#there's a quarter of scene + a really quick scene that I still need to ms paint | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlightkun · 2 months

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⏯ word count: 9.5k ⏯ genre: fluff, established relationship, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, sequel to filler episodes, reader isn’t completely boring anymore! yay!, she’s still figuring it out a little bit but it’s not a full-fledged quarter life crisis anymore, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ warnings: the usual cursing, and reader briefly gets creeped on in a scene but gets out of there pretty quick, and that’s really it! if i missed any please let me know ⏯ extra info: this is the sequel to filler episodes, it cannot be read as a standalone! ⏯ author’s note: guys i almost died writing this they’re so cute 🤧 ⏯ now playing… pluto – xdinary heroes | undercover – a.c.e | injured crow – bears in trees

He didn’t pull away when the kiss broke, affectionately nuzzling his nose with yours again. “Yeah…” he murmured, a content smile on his face. “I get it.”

“Get what?”

“The sappy love songs, all the wars, carving things in trees, the locks on bridges, all of it.”

The excited hum of the crowd was audible from backstage as you helped the band with their final checks before going on.

“Shotaro, your in-ears,” you handed said equipment to the frontman.

“Oh, I was looking for those! Thanks!” He grinned as he took them from you, slipping one in his ear.

“Wonbin, I thought you weren’t going to wear more white shirts after you stained the one from yesterday blue with your sweat,” you reminded the guitarist, fixing a piece of his freshly-dyed dark blue hair that was out of place.

He looked down at his white tank top as if just remembering this, then shrugged. “This was the only clean shirt I had.”

“Laundry. We’re all doing laundry tomorrow,” you declared, looking around for the remaining members. “Where are the other two?”

“We’re here, we’re here,” Sungchan appeared at your side, Eunseok right behind him, tucking his shirt in. “Just had to use the bathroom.”

“Alright, everyone good?” You pointed at all of them, receiving various yeses and thumbs-up in return.

Another crew member called out two minutes before they had to go on, and you started backing away as they grabbed their instruments. “Okay, good luck, have fun, I’ll see you guys after.”

“Thanks, Y/N!” The other three members beamed at you, attentions turning to the stage in front of them.

Sungchan hung back with you for another moment, cupping your cheek with a hand to pull your lips to his. “Thank you, baby.”

“Good luck, Sungchan,” you murmured, giving him one more peck. “I love you.”

“Love you more.” He let you go with a grin.

You emerged from backstage almost directly in the crowd, having to pass through a set of curtains and step over one rope until you were in the packed venue. Feeling a bit bad as always, you tried to squeeze through the people as nicely as you could. A staff member of the venue who was standing up by the stage and facing the crowd eyed you as you got closer and closer, and you held up the lanyard around your neck indicatively. Hanging from the lanyard was a crew member badge for the headliner band. Roses for Eyes hadn’t been able to get any of their own made—both due to how last-minute of an addition they were, and because they didn’t really have any crew or staff of their own, relying pretty much on the headliner’s crew and you—so you had been given a badge from the headliner’s crew to allow you to move freely in the venues.

The venue staff member relaxed and nodded, gesturing between them and the barricade, asking if you needed to get in there. You shook your head, stopping a few people behind barricade and off to the side.

As the guys came out and started their first song, you pulled out your phone to start taking pictures. On top of becoming the de facto tour manager for Roses for Eyes, you had also been in charge of taking videos and pictures of all the performances for their social media. They only had a thirty-minute set, and you always felt the pressure to capture all the best moments from each night.

You were focusing in on Wonbin’s guitar solo when you became aware of a presence over your shoulder. Thinking it was just someone in the crowd trying to get closer, you shuffled forward as best you could while still recording Wonbin.

“Hey.” A guy’s voice was right by your ear, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

The guitar solo was over, and as you switched back into taking pictures, you offered a polite nod to the man next to you in the crowd who had spoken to you. “Hi.”

“They’re good, right?” He was still shout-talking to you over the music.

“Yeah, they’re awesome.” You agreed, catching the perfect moment of Eunseok and Shotaro jamming out together.

“You a fan?”

“Uh-huh. Big fan.”

The lights went down for a dramatic rise back up into the next song, and you pointed your camera at Sungchan, knowing he always went hard on the intro of this one.

“So are you here by yourself?”

“I’m working,” you told him shortly, flashing your badge at him.

He either didn’t get the hint or didn’t care. “Cool, cool. So are you single?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to stop answering, focusing back on your job.

“Come on, what’s—” As soon as his hand grabbed your upper arm, you whipped around to shake him off.

“Fuck. Off.” You glared at him, lowering your phone as you focused on this problem.

“So you were lying. About not being single?”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed back. “Doesn’t matter if I’m single or not.”

He held his hands up. “We got off on the wrong foot. Can I try again?”

“No. Fuck off.”

A group of women who had been off to the side of you must have taken notice of what was going on, as two of them stepped in between you and the man, staring down at him from the top of their very tall platform boots.

“She said fuck off.” One of them spat at him. “We heard her tell you twice.”

“We were just talking.” He looked at you sheepishly, as if expecting you to defend him.

“No, we weren’t.” You retorted.

“So fuck off.” Another woman took a step closer to him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He muttered something about bitches as he slunk off into the crowd. You let out a breath of relief as the women swarmed you to check on you.

“Are you okay?” The first woman who had stepped in bent down to ask you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured them. “Thank you, really.”

“Of course!” A third one fixed your jacket for you. “We weren’t going to stand around with that happening right in front of us!”

“Do you want to watch the rest of the concert with us?” The first woman offered. “We’ll keep you tucked in safe right in the middle of us.”

You flashed them an appreciative smile. “If you don’t mind, then please.”

“Oh my god, of course!” They welcomed you into their group, encircling you, and letting you get lost in their fun energy for the night.

At the end of the show, you were sat at the band’s merch table. In addition to being the de facto tour manager and photographer/videographer, you also usually managed the merch table for Roses for Eyes. The headliner had plenty of crew to spare to work it, but you wanted to help however you could, and this was honestly one of your favorite parts. Various members usually came to hang out by the merch table and meet and talk with the concert goers, and you loved hearing all the praise that was showered on the guys. Almost nobody had heard of them before coming to the concerts, but it made your chest puff up with pride at how many people stayed just to tell the guys how much they loved their set.

Roses for Eyes didn’t have a lot of merch. In fact, they had exactly one kind of t-shirt, and CDs of their one and only semi-professionally recorded EP for sale. Which made your job easier, you just had to either hand them a CD, or ask their size in shirt.

“Oh my god, you’re here too!” Your next customers were the women who you had spent almost the whole concert with, their eyes sparkling with recognition and delight at you.

“Yes, I am!” You laughed as one reached out to fix your hair. “I’m everywhere, I swear. What can I get you guys?”

They each got a shirt, and a couple got CDs too. As you ran their cards and accepted their cash, they raved to you about the show.

“You know, I’d never heard of them before this, but they were so good!”

“That’s what everyone says,” you replied with a grin.

“I loved the first song they played, that was like—” She started mimicking the melody, and you recognized it immediately.

“Ah, ‘Lonely as Mars’!” You perked up. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“What’s your favorite song then?”

“Oh, I can’t say.” You grinned. “It’s not released yet…”

They all laughed and giggled at this. One peeked at the track list of the CD she had just bought from you again before looking up at you. “Guess we’ll have to wait until it’s released then, huh?”

“Yes, yes, please keep an eye out!” You couldn’t help it, you were proud of your boyfriend and the rest of your friends.

“Alright, beautiful, we’ll stop holding up your line.” One of them chuckled, giving your cheek a final tweak before the four of them moved over to the short line to chat with the band.

You couldn’t pause on that moment for too long, as more patrons came up to your table.

Once people had finally started trickling out of the venue, and you had no line left in front of either your merch table or to meet the band, you were unsurprised when Sungchan pulled up an extra folding chair next to you.

“You know,” he let out a sigh, scooting right up next to you until your legs were pressed together. “I think we need to completely deck you out in Roses for Eyes merch from head to toe.”

“One, you guys don’t even have that much merch. Two, I think all that would accomplish would be making me looking like a crazed fan.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I am your biggest fan,” you acquiesced with a giggle at how serious he looked, squeezing his leg. “But we need security to let me in, you know.”

“What about a shirt with my face on it?”

“I think that’d be even worse.”

“It can say ‘CREW’ on the back or something.”

You laughed again. “I did tell that guy I was working, you know. Which did nothing.”

“I know, baby, I’m not mad at you.” Sungchan put an arm around the back of your chair, leaning in closer to inform you, “I was up on stage wishing I could’ve been kicking his face instead of the bass drum.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t hop off stage just to beat up somebody in the crowd.” You whispered back. “Even if it would’ve been deserved.”

“God, I don’t know if I can take another month of hearing you get hit on from right next to me.” He was presumably referencing times like now, with you at the merch table and him nearby talking to patrons.

“You think I like hearing people compliment your tattoos as an excuse to feel up your arms?”

“I don’t let them!” He protested. “And sometimes they do actually like my tattoos!”

“I know, Sungchan,” you snickered. “It’s hard being the hottest couple ever, isn’t it?”

“God truly gives his toughest battles to his sexiest soldiers,” Sungchan joked back, letting his arm drop down to your waist.

“Hey, on the bright side, tomorrow is the Venue:Hell show,” you reminded him. “I’ll have Jeno and Jaemin and my other two much less sturdy friends there. Not to mention Anton, Sohee, and Seunghan.”

He didn’t seem much happier about this, letting out a little grumble, “Mmm, alright.”

You looked around at the nearly empty venue, the only fans left chatting with a couple of the members from the headlining band by their table. “Do you think we can shut it down for the night?”

“Yeah, I think you’ve done plenty, baby.” He snuck a quick kiss to your temple. “So thankful for you.”

Your hometown was only a short, three-hour drive from the previous venue, so Roses for Eyes made the very cost-effective decision to drive straight there after the show to crash at the band’s apartment for the night instead of getting a hotel in the city right next-door. All of you let out groans of both relief and exhaustion when you finally opened the front door to their apartment. Luggage was immediately dropped on the floor of the living room as muttered ‘goodnight’s were lazily tossed over shoulders and everyone disappeared into their own rooms. After the five of you had been sharing two (or sometimes one) hotel rooms every night and a van every day for the past month, you knew everyone was glad to have some space again. You dropped onto Sungchan’s bed, a subtle happiness spreading out through you at being in the familiar surroundings again.

Sungchan flopped down pretty much on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he wrapped his arms around you tight.

“Night, baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, then left his face there, nuzzling his nose against your cheekbone. “Love you so much.”

“Mm, night, Sungchan.” You pulled one of his hands up to drop a peck on the back of his fingers. “Love you so much… even more…”

In the morning, you woke up still underneath Sungchan, and smiled to yourself, letting your eyes flutter shut. You fell asleep again for who knows how long, being woken up by gentle kisses being peppered all over your cheek.

Shifting a little bit, you squinted one eye open to offer Sungchan a sleepy smile. “Morning.”

“Did I wake you up?” He whispered. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay, Sungchan,” you chuckled softly. “It was a great way to wake up.”

“I just woke up and saw you and I was thinking about how much I love and appreciate you,” he hummed, pressing two more kisses to your face. “Love you so much, and I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for us, you know.”

“I was serious about being your biggest fan.”

“I know. But I mean, we would’ve already crashed and burned so many times on this tour without you. And you stepping up not only to manage, but take photos and run our merch table? You didn’t have to do any of that. I asked you to come with because I couldn’t stand the thought of going two months without you. Not because we needed a crew member.”

“But you did need a crew member. Several, actually,” you replied humorously. “And I wasn’t going to just tag along and do nothing. Even if you had a manager and social media person and a fully staffed merch table already, I would’ve found something.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “God, I’m so in love with you. Love you so, so much I feel like I’m going to die.”

“Alright, well don’t do that,” you hummed, shifting onto your back and carding your fingers through his hair. You pulled him up to give him a kiss on the lips, laughing into his mouth when he dropped his full body weight back onto you again. “I love you too, Sungs. You big, clingy snugglemonster of a guy.”

“Your guy.”

“Yeah, you are.”

With your second load of laundry in the dryer, you hauled the stuff you’d just pulled out of the dryer into Sungchan’s room, dropping it onto his bed to start folding it. It’d all be going right back into your suitcases, but it was nice not having to do this in a laundromat.

You hadn’t heard a peep from the other three all morning, and as far as you knew, they were still passed out. Not that they were really morning people under normal circumstances anyway, but you figured they deserved to sleep in for today. If they weren’t up by the time Sungchan came back with lunch for everyone, you’d probably wake them up. After all, they had a show tonight, and you would need to be back on the road tomorrow morning.

Sungchan’s bedroom door opened again, your boyfriend poking his head in. “Food’s here.”

“Can you help me finish folding all this first?” You requested, and he obliged immediately, joining you by the mattress and picking up a t-shirt. “We should probably wake everyone else up so they can eat before the show.”

Suddenly, Sungchan started chuckling as he grabbed the next article of clothing to start folding.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how… normal this is.” He pointed between you, him, and the laundry. “After being on the road for a month, it’s weird. I love it, I love not being cooped up in hotel rooms with everyone and having to smell-test my clothes as I’m rushing to get changed to go on stage but—” He laughed again. “I don’t know, it’s crazy how I love even stupid little chores like laundry with you.”

“Ah, Sungchan.” You tossed aside the socks you had just paired up, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “You’re going to make me explode if you keep saying stuff like that.”

“Explode because you love me so much, I presume?” His grin was audible in his voice as he kept moving around to fold the rest of the laundry.

You just nodded against his back, continuing to hold him.

“Are we going to eat lunch like this?” He asked, and that’s when you realized he had finished up the last few garments.

You let out a dramatic sigh, taking your arms back. “I guess not.”

“You want to wake up Taro and Eunseok while I get Wonbin?”

Knowing that he was willingly taking the short end of the stick, you agreed easily. “Sure.”

You knocked on Shotaro’s door first, waiting for a few seconds before knocking again after you got no response. This time, you heard a garbled ‘Eh?’ from inside.

“Taro? You up?” You called out.

He groaned, and you could hear his feet as he shuffled over to open his door. The frontman rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Mm, hey. What time is it?”

“Lunchtime,” you informed him. “Good morning.”

“Oh, morning.” He grunted and stretched. “I’ll help you get Eunseok up.”

The two of you approached the bassist’s door together, and on the other side of the apartment, you could hear Sungchan’s unsuccessful attempts to wake Wonbin. Shotaro attempted very loud banging on the door once, and when he inevitably got no response, just threw it open. It was pitch black in the room thanks to Eunseok’s blackout curtains. You hung back by the doorway as Shotaro flicked the lights on then grabbed his bandmate’s shoulders.

Eunseok swore loudly, throwing an elbow out towards Shotaro as he rolled over and tried to push his face into his pillow.

“Nope!” Shotaro shook his shoulders again. “Come on, Eunseok! Wakey wakey! Good morning! Food! We have food! And if you don’t come eat it now, we’ll eat it all without you.”

Eunseok let out a long, slow sigh before sitting up straight in his bed. He pushed hair out of his face as he glowered at Shotaro. “If there’s no food, I’m going to cut your guitar strings one by one with kitchen shears while you watch.”

“Good morning, Eunseok,” you added with a snicker. He wordlessly flipped you off. You returned the gesture.

The three of you were already in the kitchen by the time Sungchan came back, practically dragging a still-snoozing Wonbin with him. Sungchan had a harrowed look on his face, while the guitarist yawned and nuzzled his cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Glad you could join us, sleepy,” you cooed, fixing Wonbin’s bedhead.

Shotaro and Eunseok finished making their plates and took them into the living room to eat—the guys had no dining table. You immediately started fixing two more plates of food in addition to your own, for Sungchan and Wonbin. Carefully balancing the three plates you brought them out to the living room as well, Sungchan dragging Wonbin behind you. He deposited Wonbin onto the couch next to Shotaro, and you set his plate and utensil down on the coffee table in front of him. Shotaro immediately took over prodding and waking Wonbin up to start eating, letting you and Sungchan squeeze into the armchair together with your food.

Roses for Eyes were doing their soundcheck that evening when you felt your phone start buzzing in your pocket. Checking it quickly, you saw that it was Jaemin, and stepped away to take the call.

“Hey!” You greeted him brightly, plugging your other ear to be able to hear him better. “Are you guys here?”

“Yeah, we can’t figure out which door to use?” He said, and in the background, you could hear the distant voices of Donghyuck and Renjun bickering. “And we don’t want to get the cops called on us or anything.”

“That wouldn’t happen, promise,” you snorted. “Places like this aren’t particularly fond of cops. Anyway, I’ll come get you! Are you by the front?”

“If the front is an unmarked rusted metal door, then yes.”

“Okay! Wait there!” You hung up.

Stepping back into the band’s eyeline, you lifted a hand to get their attention. They didn’t stop playing, but a couple of the members looked at you indicatively. You jerked a thumb at the exit and mouthed ‘be right back.’ Sungchan nodded, and Shotaro, who had been holding his mic with two hands anyway, gave you a thumbs-up.

Jogging through the venue, you opened the front door, squinting against the bright light of the sun for a moment. It was easy to find your friends, as Renjun presently had an arm around Donghyuck’s neck and Jaemin and Jeno watched on like they were two dads grilling at a cookout.

“Hey, guys!” You called out, running up to them.

“Y/N!” Jaemin whipped around, bright smile on his face as he went to hug you. “Oh my god, hey! You’re okay!”

“Hi, Jaem,” you laughed, hugging him back just as forcefully. “I didn’t go off to war, you know.”

“I know, I know.”

“Just ran off with my dirtbag boyfriend,” you couldn’t help but tease him, feeling as he scoffed, and perfectly imagining the eyeroll that came with it.

“Yeah, you haven’t let that one go, huh?”

“I’m afraid the guys are going to get matching shirts at this point.”

“I didn’t even call him your dirtbag boyfriend, I’m pretty sure I said—”

“Alright, you’re hogging her and now you’re nagging her,” Jeno interrupted, grabbing Jaemin’s shoulder.

Jaemin sighed and patted your head fondly as he let you go.

“Hey,” Jeno was beaming too as he grabbed you for a hug next.

“Hey, Jeno.” You squeezed him tight. “Thanks for the save, as always.”

“We used to be ‘the guys,’ you know?” Renjun had let Donghyuck go, and lodged his own teasing complaint as he gave you a brief hug. “Now it’s them?”

“I’m staying out of this one,” you announced, holding your hands up in surrender. “You all were my first ‘the guys,’ they’re my ‘the guys’ I’m around all the time right now, and Sungchan is, well, we all know—”

“Your dirtbag boyfriend!” Your friends said in unison, even Jaemin.

Renjun peered at your face inquisitively then, declaring, “You’re different.”

“What?” You tilted your head, absent-mindedly patting Donghyuck’s back in a one-armed hug.

“He’s right,” Hyuck agreed. “You’re not our same boring Y/N anymore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” you snorted. “Come on, you guys can catch the rest of their soundcheck.”

Walking back into the venue with the other four in tow, you could already tell which song they were playing just from the drum beat that reverberated up the stairs that you were descending. The air became noticeably cooler as you went underground.

“Ooh, you guys are lucky,” you told your friends over your shoulder. “They’re playing one that isn’t released yet. It’s my favorite.”

You emerged back to where the main stage was, staying put towards the back as the band kept playing. Your foot tapped along to the beat, and you hummed along to the melody under your breath as Wonbin started singing first. Your eyes strayed from the band over to your friends’ faces every so often, however, anxious to see if they were enjoying it at all. You could still remember clearly the only other time they’d seen Roses for Eyes perform, and how well that went. They were here to show their support for you as your friends, not because they actually liked your boyfriend’s band, you were aware of that.

Jeno was bobbing his head along to the music, Renjun didn’t seem to be outright put off by it this time, but it was Jaemin and Donghyuck that concerned you. Their heads were together as they seemed to be quietly talking, but they were too far away for you to distinguish anything they were saying.

An errant sound in the song made you snap your head back over towards the stage, and you could tell that the rest of the members had noticed it as well, all of them looking at Sungchan for a second as they continued performing. As the song finished, you walked up towards the stage, concerned frown on your face as you looked up at your boyfriend.

“You alright, Sungchan?” You questioned. “You came in early for the last verse and hit the snare instead of the toms…”

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay,” he reassured you, pushing some hair off his forehead that had stuck there. “Just got distracted and accidentally started doing the last verse for Lonely as Mars instead.”

“Mm, alright.” You sighed. “Drink some water. All of you! I’m going to ask them to turn the AC up in here, you guys are dripping already and there isn’t even a crowd yet.”

A chorus of ‘thanks, Y/N’s followed you as you turned from the stage. Your friends were still standing uncertainly by the back wall, and you detoured over to them for a second.

“Sorry, can you guys wait here a second?” You requested. “I have to talk to the venue staff, it’ll just be a minute. I’ll also grab you a few VIP passes or something.”

When you returned, with the AC successfully nudged down a few degrees and four of the headliner’s VIP passes in hand, you saw that your friends had approached the stage, and were chatting with the band. Shotaro was sat on the edge of the stage, tuning his guitar, as Eunseok stood behind him, Wonbin was splayed out on his back on the stage, and Sungchan was still sat at his kit, miming drumming so as to not distract the others. His brow was furrowed with concentration as he ran through a pattern, not paying mind to anybody else.

“Here you go,” you smiled, handing out the VIP passes to all your friends. You then turned to the band to announce, “It should start getting much colder in here soon.”

Wonbin just lifted a thumbs-up in response before flopping his arm back onto the ground next to him.

“Thanks, Y/N!” Shotaro beamed. He turned to your friends again, “Like I was saying, we don’t know what we would’ve done without her. I don’t know how we managed before her, honestly.”

“You guys were doing just fine.” You shook your head. “You got invited on this tour all on your own, I had nothing to do with that, remember?”

“Dumb luck,” Eunseok snorted. “Their first opener’s vocalist broke his leg.”

“But if you guys hadn’t already put in the work yourselves, and weren’t awesome, they wouldn’t have asked you to fill in.”

“Alright, maybe you have a point,” Shotaro grinned.

Sungchan had finished what he was doing, and lumbered over to the edge of the stage, hopping down to stand next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him. “You done already?”

“Seemed like everybody else was taking a break.” He gestured to the rest of his bandmates.

“Because you said you needed to run your solo in ‘Split Seconds’ again on your own,” Eunseok retorted.

Sungchan pointedly ignored him, turning to your friends instead, giving them all good-natured nods. “Good to see you guys again. Glad you could make it out.”

“Yeah man, you too,” Jeno gave him a smile back.

“Of course, thanks uh, for inviting us out here…” Jaemin looked around the underground venue that you all were in, having a hard time keeping the uncertainty from his face, if he was even trying.

“Yeah, that was really convincing,” you hissed, pinching his arm.

“Ow!” His hand flew to rub the spot that you had just wounded, a pout coming to his face.

“So, where will the safest place in the crowd be?” Renjun asked the band, gesturing to the empty area behind you all.

The band exchanged confused looks. You clarified, “They don’t want to be in the mosh pit.”

They let out unanimous ‘ohh’s, and Shotaro took over explaining.

“A pit usually forms in the center… front-ish.” He waved his hand over a large swath of the venue. “So if you stay off to the sides, you should be fine.”

“I’m usually up by the barricades and off to the side, since I’m taking photos and stuff,” you added.

“Honestly, you should try it,” Eunseok suggested. “One of the rules of a mosh pit is to look out for the other moshers. You shouldn’t get trampled or anything.”

Renjun shot a look at Donghyuck, who already had a mischievous grin on his face. “Lee Donghyuck, if you shove me into a mosh pit, so help me, I’m dragging you in with me.”

The other guys snickered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar bickering of your friends.

Checking your phone for the time, you then nudged Sungchan’s side and started shooing the rest of the band back towards the stage. “Alright, break’s over. You guys need to finish your soundcheck so we can hand the stage over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eunseok saluted you as Shotaro hopped back to his feet and both of them started yanking Wonbin up.

Sungchan kissed your temple and squeezed your shoulder in a wordless ‘thanks’ and ‘be back soon’ before effortlessly climbing back on stage. You stepped back to stand with your friends as the band counted off for their next song.

“Shotaro said that you’re not just tagging along, you’re like, doing everything for them?” Jaemin lowered his voice as much as he could to keep the conversation between the two of you, but still be heard over the music. “Like, tour manager, running their merch table, photos and videos…”

“Huh?” You looked over at him from where you were watching Sungchan closely to see if he had gotten out of his funk from earlier. “Oh, yeah, yeah. They needed some help, it’s not like I was really doing anything else.”

“I thought you might at least pitch in like doing merch or something, but…”

“But what?”

“Do you think you’ll keep doing this? When you get back? Being their manager or whatever?” Your friend sounded genuinely curious. “They all said they really rely on you.”

The expression fell off your face as you blinked at him, having never genuinely considered this. You frowned and tilted your head. “I… don’t think so.”

“Why not?” After a beat, he half-joked, “Pay’s not great?”

You gave him a light-hearted eyeroll at that. “Not only are they covering my travel and lodging expenses, but they’re insisting on giving me a cut of the tour and merch proceeds, too. Whatever we actually end up making, if anything.”

“Not bad.”

“I mean, I filled in now because they needed someone now. But, I just don’t think that’d be good for me and Sungchan,” you admitted. “Pitching in at their merch table or even backstage every once in a while is one thing, but working together that closely and dating… I don’t think it’d be good to do for the long-term. You know?”

Jaemin nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. So you’ll be looking for a job when you get back?”

“Yeah, I’ll have to find something.” You shrugged. “Eventually.”

All of you were hanging out in the band’s area backstage when a venue staff member tapped you on the shoulder. You turned to her inquisitively, stepping away from the conversation to hear her properly.

She sighed and shook her head. “There’s three guys at the front claiming they’re with you all. They’re really insistent. Anton, Seunghan, and Sohee?”

The look on her face made it clear that she didn’t believe them, and she was expecting this whole errand to be a waste of her time.

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” You replied brightly. “Where are they? I’ll bring them in.”

“Front door.”

“Thanks!” You darted off through the building. Grabbing three more passes from the headliner’s crew first, you then poked your head out the front door.

A line had begun forming already, and off to the side were your three friends, waiting with a rather unamused-looking venue staffer. You walked over, greeting the staff member politely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Roses for Eyes’ crew.” You showed him your badge. “Thanks for letting us know. They’re good to come in.”

You were handing the guys their own lanyards as you spoke, and the employee glanced over you one more time before shrugging.

“Cool. You got it from here?” He asked.

“Yep. Thanks again.” You flashed him a smile before starting back towards the door. Addressing your friends over your shoulder, you added, “Hi, by the way. You guys weren’t giving them trouble, were you?”

“What? Us?” Sohee replied with mock offense. “Never!”

“Did you get a haircut or something, Y/N?” Seunghan asked suddenly.

“Huh?” You looked back at him. “No, my hair’s the same.”

“Maybe it’s the clothes,” Anton suggested. “I think is the first time we haven’t seen you in a pantsuit.”

You scoffed. “It wasn’t growing from my skin, you know.”

“Yeah, we know that now.”

“They’re right,” Sohee agreed. “Something’s different.”

“You think so?” You looked down at yourself, furrowing your brow thoughtfully. “That’s what my friends said too…”

“Did you dye your hair?” Seunghan was apparently still stuck on your hair. “Like, a different shade of the same color?”

“No, I didn’t change my hair.” You shook your head. “You guys are late, by the way. Completely missed both bands’ soundcheck.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Anton teased, making the other two snicker.

You turned around to grab his ear. “Not your mom, you little punk. Take out your mommy issues on some other girl.”

“Ow! Ow!” He whined. “Okay, fine, you’re way more like an aggressive older sister anyway.”

Sohee and Seunghan were still laughing at Anton, who cradled his wounded ear as the three of you reentered Roses for Eyes’ green room. It hadn’t been very spacious before, already rather cozy with the band, you and your friends, now a bit cramped with the addition of the other three.

“They’re finally here!” You announced loudly as you opened the door.

The band’s faces immediately lit up at seeing their friends again, welcoming them in.

“Your girlfriend’s a bully, Sungchan.” Anton apparently wanted to continue your hallway bickering.

“Whatever it was, you probably deserved it,” Sungchan replied without hesitation, putting him in a headlock and messing up his hair for good measure.

Packed into the crowd, with your friends all around you and Roses for Eyes’ music coming through the speakers by your head so loud that you could feel it rattling your ribcage, you couldn’t picture anywhere else you’d rather be in that moment. The crowd was unbelievably energetic, feeding right back into the guys’ performance, and you eagerly yelled back the lyrics to them, one of the few who did, but entirely uncaring of that fact as every time you caught your boyfriend’s eye, or one of your friends’ gazes up on stage, they would give you the wildest grin and continue singing along with you.

For their part, your friends did look like they were having fun. They danced with you, clapped and cheered between songs, and followed your lead on chants. Anton, Sohee, and Seunghan were of course having a blast, this was already their scene, and they broke away from you to join in on the mosh pit when it formed. They even managed to convince Donghyuck to come along, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched the four of them disappear into the throng.

Sungchan had taken you aside before the show and told you to not worry about pictures or videos tonight, to just have fun with your friends. And you were, fully immersing yourself in the moment.

You excitedly hit the closest person’s arm—Jaemin—as the vocals stopped and tension rose in the song, knowing what was coming next. “Ahhh! Listen! Listen! Here!”

It was one of Sungchan’s drum solos, and you couldn’t hide your pride, gripping Jaemin’s arm maybe a little too hard as you jumped and cheered. As it finished out and the other instruments joined back in, you let out one last yell of Sungchan’s name, and he threw his head back to shake his hair out of his face, shooting you a grin and a wink.

“Y/N!” Jaemin yelled from next to you.

“Yeah?” You replied just as loud, still half-watching the performance.

“He’s really good, but I think you’re going to make my arm bleed!”

“Shit! Sorry!” You let go of where you had been unintentionally digging your nails into his forearm in your elation, and he rubbed his other hand over the skin.

“It’s okay.” He patted your back, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you. “I’m having fun.”

“Good!” You beamed, giving his arm a kinder squeeze this time.

After the concert, the others all went back to Anton’s place to drink and continue catching up—you again were surprised when your four friends accepted the invitation that had been extended to them. But Sungchan waved them off, saying he was worn out from the show.

Since the others had taken the van, you and Sungchan were left to walk home, which you didn’t mind, their apartment was just a fifteen-minute walk from Venue:Hell, and the night was cool and clear. Your path took you along the riverfront, and you pulled on Sungchan’s hand to stop at the railing overlooking the water. The lights shimmered along the dark, rippling surface of the water, and you took a deep breath of the crisp air.

Sungchan pecked your temple, letting out a sigh against your head before letting go of your hand and moving to sit down on a nearby bench. He let out a deep-held groan as he lowered himself to sit, resting his elbows on his knees.

You turned around, leaning back against the railing to watch him. “Do you want to go straight home? I know you said you were tired…”

“No, it’s okay, baby. It’s nice out here,” he reassured you, and his tone didn’t make you think he was lying about that, but there was still something that was bothering you.

“Is something wrong, Sungs?” You questioned. “You’ve been… off since soundcheck.”

“It’s being back home, made me realize that it’s going to be over.”

“Aw, you’ll go on tour again.” You pushed off the railing to close the space between you two, cradling his head to you and kissing his hair. “I know you will. You guys are only going to do bigger and better things.”

“Thanks, baby.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek against your middle. “But that’s not what I was talking about. I meant being with you all day every day, getting to see you be our badass manager and stuff.”

“Ah, Sungchan…” You cooed again, rubbing his back. “I’m going to miss this too. I think this was really good for us, being able to spend time together like this, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m so happy that you invited me to come with you, that I’ve been able to really see what you do and do this incredible thing with you, even if it kind of terrified me at first. But I don’t think that working together like this all the time would be sustainable for our relationship long-term.”

He let out a loud, drawn-out sigh. “Yeah… You’re right. You’re always right.”

“So you keep saying,” you replied humorously. Your voice turned soft and serious again as you added, “I’ll always be there supporting you guys; don’t think I’m going to stop being your biggest fan. But I don’t want to risk this in the process.”

“Neither do I.” He kissed your stomach through your shirt, making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sungs.” You kissed his head again. “And tonight also made me realize something else too.”

“What’s that?”

“As much as I’ve loved helping you guys out and being able to support you from behind the scenes, and I’m looking forward to spending the second half of the tour doing that… I also missed being able to just cut loose with the rest of the crowd and support you like that too.”

Sungchan looked up at you, a fond smile coming to his face. “Yeah, I loved seeing you have so much fun tonight. I want you to have the time of your life at every one of our shows that you’re at, not be working.”

“Then after this tour…” You pecked his nose. “I quit.”

He was smirking as he teased back, “Not if I fire you first.”

You couldn’t help yourself, cupping his cheek and kissing him. Sungchan eagerly kissed you back as one of his hands went under the hem your shirt, fingers on the skin of your waist as he pulled you even tighter to him.

You broke the kiss with another giggle, squirming and grabbing his hand that was under your top. “Your fingers are cold, Sungs.”

He didn’t seem offended by the rebuff at all, watching you fondly as you sandwiched his one large, cold hand between your own two slightly warmer hands in a futile attempt to warm it up. “Hey, have we done your something new yet today? We’re back home, it’s not a new city.”

You let go of his hand to check the time on your phone. “It’s almost one in the morning…”

“It’s not tomorrow yet until we’ve gone to sleep.”

“Alright,” you chuckled. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s a surprise.” He jumped to his feet and offered you his hand with a grin.

You took it without hesitation, letting him pull you down the empty sidewalks at a near-run. The two of you finally skidded to a stop at the back of a building you’d never seen before in your life.

Sungchan tested the door handle, chuckling when it opened easily. “He still leaves it unlocked.”

You didn’t question where you were, who Sungchan was talking about, or if you were allowed to be here as you followed him in, the door slipping shut behind you. You ended up in some kind of stairwell, and your boyfriend started taking you up. A few yellowed lights dimly lit the concrete stairs under your feet, flickering every so often, but affording just enough visibility that you didn’t think you’d trip and face-plant. You passed by doors that seemed to lead to the actual inside of the building, only marked with numbers indicating their floors. You reached the top of the stairs after floor four. There was another door, this one marked ‘ROOF ACCESS – KEEP CLOSED’ and propped open with what looked like a broken mop handle.

Sungchan pushed the door open without hesitation, leading you right onto the roof. While the building you were on top of wasn’t a skyscraper by any means, it was taller than the others in its immediate vicinity, affording an unobstructed view of the city lights at night, glittering and shimmering all around you. The air was cool on your cheek, but you were kept warm by Sungchan’s jacket. Leaning against the railing that went around the entire roof, you took your eyes off the view and looked up at Sungchan.

“This is great, Sungchan,” you said, feeling the persistent smile on your lips that was there whenever you were with him.

“Hold on.” He slipped off his backpack, and you watched with interest as he rooted around in it before bringing out a box. It was a box of hand sparklers, these ones in particular being familiar to you as the same ones you all had gotten a few stops ago to celebrate Shotaro’s birthday.

“I thought we used all of them,” you accepted them from him as he fetched a lighter from the bag before dropping it on the ground.

“Eunseok found one more box rummaging through a box of cables earlier.”

“So you stole them.”

“So I stole them, yeah.”

You took out one sparkler for yourself, and handed another to Sungchan. He lit yours first, the firework immediately sparking in front of you. A giggle bubbled out of you as you held the sparkler out in front of you, watching it until it fizzed out. Getting another two and turning to Sungchan for him to light, you realized he hadn’t even used his first one yet, his gaze resting on you.

“Hey, you didn’t light yours,” you nudged him.

“I was watching you, baby,” he admitted freely, grabbing you by the waist to kiss your forehead. “Trying to remember that forever.”

You shoved the other sparklers haphazardly into his hand before wrapping both your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. He chuckled, rubbing your back. You could feel the curve of his smile where his cheek rested against your temple. His hand left your back before you heard his lighter click and the familiar sizzle of the sparkler again. You turned your head just enough to peek at it over your shoulder, seeing that he was being careful to hold it as far out away from you as his long arms would allow.

When it went out, you turned yourself fully around in his arms, leaning back against him. He playfully pushed you forward with his body until the two of you were both leaning against the railing on your elbows, Sungchan caging you in with his arms and hooking his chin over your shoulder to see around you to light your next pair of sparklers.

You moved to draw a star in the air with yours this time, and Sungchan spiraled his around until they both went out. On your next ones, you held yours still as he seemed focused on writing his name. His went out a second before yours, and you laughed victoriously.

“I win!” You declared, holding your still smoldering sparkler.

“Oh, we’re playing the game now?”

“Mm-hm,” you confirmed. “Didn’t you hear my telepathic message?”

“Missed that one, sorry, baby,” he snickered, giving you a sweet kiss. “But I’d never forget your prize.”

Both of you held your respective sparkler still this time, watching the tiny pops and miniature explosions as they burned through. Sungchan’s went out right after yours, and you let out a huff as he waved his burned stick in the air.

“I won.” He didn’t cheer very loudly, with his mouth right next to your ear.

You turned your head, nose bumping into his for a moment, making the both of you let out a synchronized breathy giggle. Pressing your lips to his, you let your eyes flutter shut as you melted into him even further—if that were even possible. He moved his mouth against yours as if he hadn’t just kissed you a few moments before, teeth and tongue eagerly joining too.

He didn’t pull away when the kiss broke, affectionately nuzzling his nose with yours again. “Yeah…” he murmured, a content smile on his face. “I get it.”

“Get what?” You asked quietly, searching his eyes curiously.

“The sappy love songs, all the wars, carving things in trees, the locks on bridges, all of it.”

You pushed your forehead against his, unable to do much more past the insurmountable feeling of your heart about to explode. “That almost sounds like the start of a sappy love song right there, Sungs.”

“You think?”

“Sappy love songs, all the men who went to war, locks on bridges, all the tree barks carved with hearts,” you mused. “I’m no songwriter, but I think you can pull some rhymes out of that.”

He was grinning now. “And I promise the next time you hear it, it will be one entire sappy love song unto itself. All about you, baby.”

“Gah!” You clutched at your heart as you twisted enough to bury your face in his neck. “If I don’t die of an exploded heart before then.”

“I won’t let you,” Sungchan growled playfully, rubbing your back. “You’re stuck with me. We haven’t even done all that stuff yet.”

“Is going to war for me is on that to-do list?”

“Duh. Now who’s missing our telepathic messages?”

You laughed. “That’ll be a ‘something new’ for the history books.”

At the second to last stop of the tour, you had caught brief respite in a narrow spot backstage behind the curtains, careful to stay out of the way of the other crew members bustling about. Roses for Eyes were all either changing, eating, or otherwise hanging out before the show began, and you were in a rare moment of not putting out a fire or looking for smoke before one began.

“Y/N?” A voice that you’d only heard over loudspeaker announcements or in addresses to the entire crew came accompanied by a gentle tap to your shoulder. You turned to see the tour manager for the headliner next to you, snakebites spreading with the wide grin she was giving you.

“Yes, is there something I can assist with?” You stood up straight and at attention. She was usually so busy coordinating literally everyone on the tour that you’d never even had the opportunity to introduce yourself and talk to her one-on-one like this, surprised that she even knew your name.

She offered you one of the two sweating water bottles in her hand as she flipped up the mic on her headset. “Nayoung. I don’t think we’ve officially met.”

“No, but I understand, you’ve been very busy.” You accepted the bottle with a thankful head nod.

“So have you.”

You were once again amazed that she had apparently also taken note of any of what you were doing this whole time. Honestly, you were worried about being a nuisance—a band member’s entitled girlfriend tagging along on the tour, not even lifting a finger to help, and just making the entire crew’s lives harder sounded like a pretty plausible issue for her and her staff to have faced before.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head again.

“You seem like you liked it, you picked it all up really quick after being thrown in the deep end, you know.” She cracked her own bottle cap before lifting the drink to her pitch-black painted lips.

“I’ve really loved it all, actually. Not just supporting the guys, but the work itself, surprisingly enough,” you beamed fondly as you twisted your water open. “It’s totally different from what I used to do, so it’s been really awesome learning about it all. Your staff is incredible, by the way, they’ve been so patient with me whenever I’ve had questions and helping us out when we need an extra extra hand. Really, you guys have been fantastic, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Nayoung lifted a dark eyebrow curiously. “So what’s this I hear about you quitting after the tour then? You and Sungchan didn’t… did you?”

“Oh, no no no,” you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “The opposite, actually. We agreed that working this close together isn’t a good long-term plan for us. But it was a good experience, and I’ll figure out a way to put it on my résumé.”

“Résumé,” she repeated with mild interest, giving you an avenue to keep talking.

“Yeah, better than just saying I was unemployed for two months when interviewers ask,” you chuckled. “Not looking forward to breaking out the pantsuits again when we get back, though.”

“Who says you have to?” She asked. “You’ve been exposed to jobs outside of an office, you know there’s other options. Did you like your old sort of job so much, despite your apparent dislike for the uniform?”

You faltered for a second in what had so far been a pretty light-hearted conversation on your end, your easy-going smile slowly dropping off your features as you became overcome with confusion. “I guess… that’s what I’ve always done. I know I’m okay at it, I can get a job like that again.”

“But you don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”

You looked down at your feet as you took a thoughtful sip of your water. “You’re right. I’ve… I didn’t even think of that. Thanks, Nayoung.”

“And once you polish up that résumé, send it my way, hm?”

You almost did a spit-take on her, covering your mouth as you coughed and choked down the water in your mouth. “Wait, seriously?”

“My whole crew’s loved you since day 1. I’ve kept my eye on you, and like I said, I can tell you’ve really taken to all of this. You’ve pretty much been informally interviewing for two months already. I just need the résumé.”

“Absolutely!”

She took out a business card for the event and tour management company, this one with her own number and email on it and handed it to you. “Here, when you’re ready. We do all sorts of local stuff too, by the way, we’re not just on the road year-round. There’s a lot of planning that comes before that part.”

You held the card with two hands, well aware that your eyes were shining at her. “That sounds perfect, actually. I will totally send my stuff to you. Thank you!”

“Look forward to hearing from you, then.” She gave you one last grin before snapping the mic back down into place on her headset and started off in another direction with purpose in her steps, already talking to someone else over the mic.

Sungchan found you still rooted to that same spot, looking down at the business card in your hands. He hesitantly grabbed your elbow, startling you from your happy trance.

“Hey, what you got there?” He peered over your shoulder at it curiously.

“Nayoung asked for my résumé,” you told him brightly, practically shoving the card in his face to show him.

He jerked his head back to actually read the writing, a big smile coming to his face as well as he held a hand up for you to high-five. “Congrats, baby!”

You hit his hand hard before throwing your arms around his neck, excitedly bouncing up and down even as you had a vice-like grip around him. He just laughed and hugged you back, doing a small spin with you that the narrow space behind the curtain would allow.

“We’ll just have to make sure all your future acts knows that you were our badass tour manager first,” he teased, smirking as he cradled the back of your head to kiss you.

You pressed your lips to his once, twice more before pulling away with the same wide grin on your face as before. “Oh of course. And hopefully one day, they won’t ask me who that is when I say that.”

His jaw dropped in mock offense as you went to give him another kiss on the cheek in apology, despite your giggles. He just scoffed and pinched your side, making you squeal. “Rude.”

“I’m kidding, Sungs, you know I’m kidding,” you leaned against him affectionately. “Like I keep telling you, you guys are only going to do bigger and better things. I’m going to be the one bragging that I was your first tour manager.”

“Pretty sure you have something even better to brag about,” he reminded you, and you could feel him practically puffing out his chest with pride. “But I’ll take it.”

As you were about to open your mouth to continue your teasing banter by acting confused about what he could possibly mean, something suddenly occurred to you. It didn’t seem like Sungchan had just stumbled across you backstage, or was even looking for you just because he wanted to see you—he had seemed to be on a mission when he found you. You pulled back enough to look up at him with a knowing frown.

“Did you need something, Sungs?” You questioned.

“I didn’t need anything but to see my beautiful, awesome girlfriend.” He put a defensive hand over his chest, then added, “But Shotaro lost his in-ears again.”

“Of course,” you sighed, beginning to detangle yourself from his grasp. “One more night of this, huh?”

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anakin-pilled · 9 months

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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part one)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.8k

warnings: minimal uses of y/n (trying to avoid writing this as much as possible but sometimes u need to!), awkwardness, anakin needs a break, POV switching (im trying something new, but its still in 3rd POV), reader is a popstar (very loosely based of taylor swift), too many scenes (i'll limit it next chapter) rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

taglist: lmk if u want to be added!

author's note: well, here it is!! my first anakin fanfic!! i was listening to gorgeous by taylor swift and it just reminded me of how much i hate beautiful men (hayden christensen) and the effect they have on me and then this feeling just spirialed and became a fanfic--and my first ever mini series! i'm aiming for four or five parts? enjoy!!! (proofread but if u see a mistake pls tell me). sorry if the first part is boring, i'm just trying to set the vibe and introduce the major plot elements! creds to saradika for the header!

All Anakin Skywalker wanted was one, uninterrupted kriffing break. Yet, even that seemed like too much to ask from the Maker. With an annoyed sigh, Anakin quickly ended the call on his comlink and made his way out of his living quarters and towards the Jedi Council’s meeting room. “What do they want from me now?” Anakin thought to himself.

It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to sport an attitude, but lately, his foul mood had been exacerbated in the last few months for several reasons. Anakin’s recent breakup with Padme laid heavy in his heart. As the war raged on and both of their duties called them away for weeks, even months, at a time, the young couple rarely had time to see each other. It was supposed to be a small break at first–Padme was working on an important bill that could change the tide of the war, so she wanted to focus all her energy on gaining support for the bill from fellow Senators and campaigning for its passage on the Senate floor. So, Padme suggested that she and Anakin take a quick pause on their relationship until she was finished with the bill. But even after the bill passed, Padme was too consumed by her senatorial duties to put her all into a relationship. Anakin was just as busy on the battlefields, traveling to distant systems, and ensuring that the Separatists did not win any more than they already had. However, he was still willing to put an effort into their relationship because he loved Padme more than life itself. Padme was Anakin’s first love, and they had already been through so much together. Didn’t that mean something? It was late one night when the couple retired to Padme’s apartment that she dropped the news. Anakin felt as if his whole world shattered. He begged on his knees to Padme, to give them another chance. She insisted it was for the best and that she would reach out to him in a few months when she felt ready. Anakin would be lying if he said a part of him was shocked. After all, Padme put her job as Senator above everything else. But still, it hurt knowing that the one person who he would abandon everything for, would not do the same for him.

Aside from the breakup, Anakin was tired of the constant fighting, the rising death toll, and the never-ending chaos that always seemed to follow him. The 501st Clone Battalion’s most recent war campaign was brutal, and they lost a few men to Trandoshan separatists while in battle at a small, Outer Rim planet. Anyone could see that Anakin thrived in war. He was nicknamed the “Hero With No Fear” for a reason. But, the death of his men, or any man under Republic forces, always left his heart and mind unsettled.

As Anakin reached the door to the Jedi Council, he quickly shook his head as if to ward away his dark thoughts. He really should meditate more. The door opened and Anakin was greeted with the sight of the Jedi Masters sitting in a circle, he noticed many of them appeared via holoprojectors.

“Hello masters,” Anakin said with a bow. He looked around until he met eyes with Obi-Wan, who happened to be off-planet at the moment. Obi-Wan gave Anakin an uneasy smile which blared the alarms in Anakin’s head. Anakin was already in a defensive mode due to his rocky relationship with the council.

It was Mace Windu who spoke first. “General Skywalker, we have called you here today to discuss an upcoming mission. It is to our understanding that you are currently on a break right now, however, you were specifically requested by the Chancellor for this task.” It must be an important mission if the Chancellor himself requested that Anakin carry it out.

“There will be an upcoming charity event hosted in honor of the Republic to raise funds for the war effort. The event is being held in Corulag in ten rotations from now. While Corulag is part of the Republic, there have been recent Separatist activities within the planet and its system,” Master Windu continued.

“And what will I need to do while in Corulag?” Anakin asked with a slight edge in his voice. He really didn’t want to travel off-world.

“You will be the personal escort and bodyguard to the charity’s main event, singer (Y/N) (L/N). She will be performing a show as part of the charity and her presence is estimated to bring in a lot of credits for the war effort. While we don’t personally believe there will be a threat on her life, the Chancellor suspects that the Separatists may try to infiltrate the singer as a way to ruin the charity’s efforts.”

Anakin felt his annoyance flare up again. He was being taken away from his well-deserved break time to babysit a singer? This was a job that even a Padawan could carry–Ahsoka could do it with her eyes closed.

Even through the holoprojector, Obi-Wan could see the tale tell signs of his former student’s growing anger. He pitied the boy. Obi-Wan felt that Anakin deserved his break, especially after his most recent mission. However, it was not up to Obi-Wan alone to make these decisions. With the war prolonging itself more than necessary and the expenses rising every day, the Republic needed as many credits as it could get from its supporters. Obi-Wan quickly piqued up from the side to calm his friend, “Anakin, the Chancellor personally requested you as the singer is a family friend of his, and he trusts you. The Council will discuss giving you vacation time after completing your mission.” As vexed as Anakin might have been at first, he certainly didn’t want to disappoint the Chancellor. He had no choice but to accept the mission. Anakin silently nodded to the council.

“Recieve more instructions tomorrow, you will. Rest for now,” said Yoda from his chair.

And with that, the meeting was over. Anakin said his goodbyes with a bow and walked out.

After Anakin left the meeting, he headed towards the Jedi Archives to conduct some research on his new mission. He wasn’t interested in who the singer was, or what she did. Rather, he wanted to know what kind of person she was–was she a controversial celebrity, or did she stay in the lines? Anakin prayed he wasn’t dealing with some crazy, entitled celebrity who did whatever she wanted. That would make his mission harder than it needed to be. He had heard of the singer’s name in passing from Ahsoka, who kept up with recent trends via the HoloNet. As a General and a Jedi Knight, Anakin no longer had the same sense of freedom that he had as a Padawan, even though he had much less freedom than his other Padawan counterparts. “Perks of being the Chosen One, I suppose,” Anakin bitterly whispered to himself.

Anakin filtered past the front desk of the Archives after giving Madame Jocasta a quick nod and small time. He wanted to be in and out so he could get food from the Temple’s cantina before retreating to his living quarters for the night.

“What do you mean they are assigning a Jedi Knight as my security detail?! I thought this was supposed to be a simple concert for a charity event, why are they assigning a Jedi if there is no imminent danger?!” you exclaimed to your manager, Gido Frisco, with a pointed look.

When you agreed to perform at this charity event, you did so because you wanted to help raise credits for the Republic. Your management discouraged you from having any outspoken opinions on politics as it could lead to alienation from fans and tabloid backlash. But after your home planet became a recent victim to Separatist forces, you could no longer idly sit by and continue living as if the war didn’t affect you. When the charity’s organizers approached you to do this event, you happily agreed because all the credits earned were going to a meaningful cause. To the Republic. To democracy.

The event was to consist of several performances by famous artists from throughout the Core Worlds, but you were the headlining event. Though you would humbly deny it, your popularity superseded everyone else set to perform. The media and your fans dubbed you “the Galaxy’s princess” due to your popularity as a singer across the Galactic Core. You hated that nickname. You were very far from a princess–you were just lucky enough to be born with an innate musical talent. Nonetheless, you were still treated as if you were royalty.

“Look, I’m going to be blunt with you. There has been Separatist activity in and around Corulag, but we don’t predict that it will directly affect you. Think of the Jedi as an extra security personnel. They won’t let anybody or anything hurt you,” explained Gido.

“Who is we?”

“We as in myself, and the Chancellor. He was quite worried for your safety when he heard of your acceptance to perform.” That made much more sense. The Chancellor, an old family friend of yours, often looked out for you throughout your years on Coruscant. You had no family on the planet as all your family lived on Bar’leth, only visiting you every few months. While you saw them as often as you could, the help and care they provided you was limited to messages on your holo tablet and calls via communicator. The Chancellor took it upon himself to help you whenever he could. You were extremely grateful for his help, but you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the thought of having a Jedi accompany you. You knew Jedis were the peacekeepers of the galaxy. As the war started and worsened, the Jedi were thrust into a new, partial position. Where the Jedi went, trouble unfortunately followed. Would more trouble follow you if you were accompanied by a Jedi than if you were not? Only time would tell.

“Very well. And when will I meet this Jedi?”

“You will meet him tomorrow morning. Please do not stress the situation. We are merely taking precautions. Rest for tonight and we will talk more in the morning. Goodnight, princess.” And with that, Gido walked out of your apartment and you were left alone.

You walked outside and onto your balcony and observed the night sky. Your eyes followed the speeders flying through the air–a cacophony of honks and whizzes! reached your ears. You leaned upon the stone masonry of the balcony’s railing and rested your elbows on its surface. You then laid your cheek in your palm and closed your eyes as the lights of Corscuant reflected off your statue. You took into the slight breeze of the night and enjoyed this moment of serenity. Who knows what the next few rotations will bring? You could only hope you would suffer a nicer faith than your home planet. Your eyes opened, and you retreated into the lush interior of your apartment and began your nightly routine.

Holy kriff, this man is kriffing gorgeous! Those were the first words that popped into your head when you saw the Jedi knight walk into your living room. It was early in the morning. You thought he was only supposed to accompany you at the charity benefit, but your team thought it would be best if he accompanied you throughout the week as you prepared for the event and ran errands.

As he walked closer to you, you felt your mouth run dry and a creeping heating sensation sprouted from the base of your neck to your cheeks. You could only hope he didn’t feel the heat radiating off your body. He was wearing dark-colored robes, with a maroon long-sleeve undershirt, and only one leather glove on his right arm. Was this a fashion statement of some kind? Gido spoke up before you could say anything.

“Welcome, and thank you for being here Jedi. I can assure you that it means very much to us and I hope that you find yourself comfortable for the next few rotations. Our team will do its best to ensure you are properly accommodated. My name is Gido Frisco, and I am (Y/N)’s manager.” Gido reached out his hand for Anakin to shake. Anakin took his hand in a firm grip and replied.

“Thank you. My name is Anakin Skywalker, general of the 501st Legion. I will do my best to keep (Y/N) safe.”

Anakin. You had heard of him before–he was the Republic’s poster boy and a very successful leader. Though you knew of him, you had yet to put a face to the name until now. Instead of making eye contact with the man, you simply stared at the ground until Gido included you in the conversation.

“And this is (Y/N),” Gido said.

You then looked up at Anakin and made eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the color of his eyes. They were a dazzling shade of blue that was highlighted by the scar running down the right side of his forehead to underneath his eye.

There was an awkward moment of silence before you stuttered as you reintroduced your name to Anakin and shook his hand. Shit, he's strong, you thought as he shook your hand with a firm grasp. If there was one thing you were weak for, it was a strong man. A strong, beautiful man!

“Pleasure to meet you too. I’ll be at your service this week,” Anakin stated with a small smile. Kriff, even his voice was attractive! You could only stare at him and nod. You were truly at a loss for words. Wait, can he hear my thoughts right now? You thought to yourself. You heard the Jedi could use the Force to read minds, but you didn’t know if this was just a rumor. You hoped it was just a rumor or you'd find yourself burying yourself six feet under the ground out of embarrassment.

“Well, now that you two are acquainted, I’ll be taking Anakin so we can go over the security details. Stay here until then.” Gido then led Anakin out of the room and that was the last you saw of the Jedi until dinner time.

When Anakin woke up the next morning, he walked toward the Temple’s catina to grab a warm cup of caf and breakfast. The food was meager most days, but it beat having to live off the plain-tasting ration bars that he ate most of the time when he was on missions and campaigns. As Anakin walked through the tables to find a seat, he was greeted by the site of his former master sipping on a cup of tea and conversing with Ahsoka.

“Ahh, Anakin. Nice to see you this morning. I am terribly sorry that you have been called upon for another mission. I do believe that your rest was well-deserved, but unfortunately, I had no power over this decision,” Obi-Wan stated as he continued to sip on his tea.

“Thanks, Master. I can’t say I’m particularly excited about this, but hopefully, after this is done, I can properly enjoy my rest.”

“Master, you’re so lucky! I am so jealous of you right now. I wish I could join you, but Master Sinabu has requested that I assist him in a few lessons with the younglings,” Ashoka pipped in. “Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?” She was excited. Ahsoka was no stranger to being in the company of high-profile people, but most of the time, it was limited to officials and members of the Senate. Boring! The thought of her master working with one of the most famous singers of this generation was honestly hilarious to her. A part of her wished it was her on this mission instead. The last time Anakin was on babysitting duty was when Ahsoka first joined Anakin as his Padawan was to rescue Jabba the Hutt’s son. Much like Anakin, Ahsoka believed this task could’ve been carried out by a Padawan, but as Obi-Wan explained to her, the Chancellor personally requested Anakin for this task.

“Snips, I’m there to protect, not get autographs. Try practicing your mediation skills, and maybe I’ll get you an autograph,” Anakin said with a small smirk on his face. Much like him in his Padawan days, Ahsoka found meditating tedious and boring. He honestly should meditate more to set a better example, but Anakin’s teaching method was more of “Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Oh come on Skyguy! You owe me this favor after I saved your butt back on Florrum. What would you have done if I wasn’t there to save you from all those assassin droids?” quipped Ashoka with a slight raise in her eyebrows. Damn, she got me there, thought Anakin to himself. But, he wasn’t going to let her have this win so easily. One might say that Anakin was acting immature for his age, but he and Ahsoka’s relationship thrived off witty remarks and friendly competition. Anakin’s relationship with Ahsoka was one of the most precious things in his life.

“Except I won our last sparring battle. That makes us even, no?” Ahsoka’s smile quickly dropped, and she glared at her master. Anakin took a sip of his caf and continued, “Only kidding, Snips. I’ll try to get you that autograph. I might be too busy trying to keep this singer out of trouble.”

Obi-Wan observed his former student and Ahsoka with fondness. “Do not worry, young one. You will beat Anakin one day. A student is only as good as their teacher, and you have a good teacher. I would know–I taught him,” Obi-Wan joked with the two. “Anakin, I hope this mission goes smoothly. I know how badly your last assignment went.” Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Though Anakin’s ego subsided since he lost his arm at the Battle of Geonosis, it didn’t mean he liked talking about his failures. The Separatists somehow acquired important Republic intel and managed to ruin Anakin’s battle strategy with a surprise attack. He and his men just barely made it out on time before a full Separatist takeover happened. Anakin’s appetite was ruined by the thought of it.

Suddenly, Anakin’s commlink beeped and he knew it was time to head out to the hangar and receive his instructions for the week. He said his farewells to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before going to the hangar, where he was surprisingly greeted by the Chancellor. The older man smiled at Anakin and shook his hand.

“Anakin, my boy. I cannot express my gratitude to you for accepting this assignment. You see, I specifically asked for you because I knew that I could trust you with my dear family friend. I do hope that you take care of her well.”

“Of course, Chancellor. She will be safe under my watch.”

“Now, she shouldn’t give you any trouble. She is a well-mannered girl. However, I have just received secret Separatist intel and wanted to share it with you before I visit the council. According to the intel, Count Dooku has ordered intelligence to interfere with the benefit. Our report says that he is planning on hacking our broadcasting signal and threatening the talent for the whole galaxy to see. For what, I do not not know. While we do expect the benefit to raise many credits for the Republic, the show will also provide a boost in morale for the citizens of the Republic. I theorize that Count Dooku wishes to ruin the public’s perception of the Republic’s efficiency and control over the war and the talent are a way to do this,” explained Chancellor Palpatine.

Anakin furrowed his brows. “Seems like Count Dooku is running out of scare tactics. Chancellor, the Jedi will ensure that the benefit proceeds as expected and that no harm comes to anyone there.”

The Chancellor smiled at Anakin’s words. “Thank you, my boy. Now I mustn’t take any more of your time. I will let you go now. You will receive more information on the Separatist intel later on.”

Anakin and the Chancellor shook hands once more before Anakin boarded his ship and plugged in the coordinates provided to him by the council.

Anakin’s first impression of you was that you were pretty. A delicate kind of pretty that Anakin had only seen in one other person before, Padme. But as quickly as the thought entered his conscious, he pushed it toward the back of his mind. What was he even thinking? He chalked up to him missing Padme. Yeah…Anakin just missed Padme and now that he was in the same familiar situation that he was in a few years ago when he first met Padme, familiar feelings are rising. After all, this wasn’t the first time Anakin had been sent on bodyguard duty for a well-known beautiful public figure.

Your manager introduced himself to Anakin and then introduced you to him. Though he wasn’t excited about this mission, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved that he would be staying in your luxurious apartment for the next few rotations until you traveled off-world. It wasn’t very often that the Jedi were afforded such accommodations. Anakin had spent his fair share of nights seeking refuge in strange, foreign biomes with only mere sticks and leaves as shelter. If he couldn’t sleep in the comfort of his private quarters at the Temple, he might as well enjoy the lavish high-rise Coruscanti apartment.

Despite Anakin’s initial impression of you, your reaction toward him was…intriguing. Based on his research last night, Anakin couldn’t anything on the HoloNet that painted you in a bad light. Sure, there were the occasional tabloid articles that made outrageous claims about you, but all of those were overridden by the amount of good publicity you got. Charismatic, friendly, confident, a sweetheart–these were all words used to describe you by the various media outlets. But the person standing in front of Anakin seemed everything but that.

Your nervous energy radiated off you and permeated Anakin’s senses through the force. You avoided eye contact with him until your manager forced you to properly look at Anakin and introduce yourself to him. You definitely didn’t seem as confident as the Holo Net made you out to be, but Anakin didn’t fault you for this. He’s sure you felt nervous in the presence of a Jedi because it implied that there was some danger lurking around. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been assigned to his task. What did you know about the terrors of war and the cruel reality of death and destruction? You were just a rich celebrity located within the safe confines of the Galatic Core. Anakin felt a twinge of jealousy at this notion. He knew that he belonged with the Jedi, but Anakin couldn’t help but feel envy at the fact that you were simply an innocent civilian whose daily life was virtually unaffected by the war. You didn’t have to witness violent bloodshed, say goodbye to your comrades, and live life constantly on the move. Sometimes Anakin longed for his days on Tatooine when he lived with his mother and worked in Watto’s workshop. He was a poor slaveboy, but at least he had his mother, and life was relatively peaceful. Before Anakin could harp on these thoughts any longer, he caught a stray thought that didn’t belong to him.

Kriff, even his voice was attractive! Anakin was sure the thought didn’t belong to Gido, so he could only assume that it belonged to the woman standing in front of him. Anakin internally smirked to himself. Could it be that Anakin made you nervous for reasons other than him being a Jedi? Perhaps…you found Anakin attractive. Anakin didn’t care if you found him attractive, but it did boost his ego a bit. It seems his split from Padme was affecting him more than he thought. Since when did trivial things like this matter?

Anakin looked over you once more before following Gido to discuss the schedule and plan for the upcoming rotations.

Dinner was…awkward, to say the least. It was just you and Anakin eating in your dining room. Gido had some business he needed to attend to so he could not join you for dinner. Anakin insisted that he could eat somewhere else as he did not want to intrude, but you insisted that he eat with you. It was the polite thing to do. But after you insisted that Anakin sat with you, you realized that you had nothing to talk about. A singer and a Jedi Knight turned war general? What would you have in common? A pregnant silence enshrouded you both. Only the soft clinks of silverware could be heard.

You sipped on your water every few bites to calm your nerves. This was so unlike you! Honestly, you were never one to shy away from anyone’s presence. A part of your job was selling a likable persona to the public–countless interviews, media appearances, meet and greets! You had done these all with grace and a smile. Yet you couldn’t find the proper words to say to the gorgeous man sitting right across from you. Geez, he must think I’m one of those stuck-up celebrities, you chided in your head. You were far from stuck up, but something about Anakin set your nerves on fire and made the social part of your brain feel like mush. Sweat started building up in your armpits as you thought about it. You had to do something to salvage your reputation and stop yourself from sweating through your outfit.

You cleared your throat and looked up from your dinner plate. “So, Anakin. How do you know the Chancellor? I hear you’re friends with him.”

“I’ve known the Chancellor since I was a little boy. We first met when I left my home planet after I was discovered by a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn. He was Naboo’s representative back then.”

“Oh, that's interesting. My family goes way back with the Chancellor too. My father and him studied at the same university on Naboo. Though my father was a few grades below the Chancellor, they became good friends,” you replied.

Anakin nodded at your story before focusing his attention elsewhere. You internally deflated once you saw he did not seem to care about keeping a conversation. However, if you were going to spend the new few rotations together, you’d rather it not be more awkward than it already was.

“Uhm, where are you from? You mentioned that you left your home planet. I’m not from Coruscant either! I am from Bar’leth.”

“Tatooine,” Anakin answered curtly. The way Anakin said Tatooine almost made you think that he disliked his home planet. He didn’t say it with any fondness, or longing.

“That’s in the Outer Rim, right? I’ve never been. How is it?” you questioned.

“Hot, lawless, and sandy.” Another short answer.

You got the impression that Anakin wasn’t exactly fond of his home planet, so you decided to change the subject of conversation. “You travel a lot as a Jedi. Which has been your favorite planet so far?”

Anakin was silent for a moment before, as if he were thinking deeply about it. In reality, Anakin knew his favorite planet. Naboo. He only paused for a moment because he was unsure if he wanted to reveal this information to you. Though it was seemingly an innocent question (and it was), Anakin felt it was a vulnerable question. Naboo is the planet he spent days frolicking in the lush, romantic meadows with Padme, falling deeper in love with her as the days passed. Naboo represented a part of Anakin that no longer existed–an Anakin that didn’t know the pain of losing a mother, losing a part of himself in the process. When his mother died, gone became the young boy with a golden aura and eyes full of hope. On Naboo, Anakin was still bright and naive with a laughter full of joy and excitement. That Anakin died the day he and Padme set out to find his mother on Tatooine. Anakin wished every day to the Maker that part of him could come back from the dead and replace who he currently was. To better days.

“Naboo. That’s my favorite planet,” answered Anakin. He decided to be truthful instead of responding with a random planet. Anakin didn’t know what compelled him, but he knew you were only being polite.

“Naboo is beautiful. Though I mainly grew up in Bar’leth, I spent a lot of my childhood summers in Naboo. I don’t think there is any other planet with views as stunning as Naboo,” you revealed.

You felt that there was nothing else to say. The remainder of the dinner was quiet. Though there wasn’t as much tension as before, it was still awkward. You finished your dinner as quickly as possible before retreating to your personal quarters for the evening.

To be continued!

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maimingaffairs · 1 year

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anon i am so sorry… my post got deleted somehow so i had to repost 🤨 anyways this is terrible because i wrote it at 3 am but at least it’s proofread!

warnings: SMUT (18+ only!)

word count: 2.6k

Oblivious (aleksander morozova x AFAB!reader)

Aleksander had always had a soft spot for the good things in the world. The beautiful things.

You were both.

From the moment he met you, he knew you were.

The two of you had met when you arrived in Os Alta after running away from Ketterdam. Being a known Healer had been getting dangerous, and the wrong crowds often sought your services out.

The first time he’d met you personally was a spectacle, really. You’d been brought in to heal a deep cut on the back of Vasily Lantsov’s head because he had slipped drunkenly down the stairs. Aleksander was almost always present when his Grisha were needed in The Grand Palace, and he stood back and watched as you healed Vasily with ease. It hadn’t even been a moment later before the young prince started to flirt with you.

You awkwardly took a step away from him, which he in turn took one towards you. You had laughed nervously and before you could take another step back, he had grabbed onto your kefta and tried to pull you towards him. You jumped backwards quickly and the kefta came loose from his fingers and you fell backwards, catching yourself at an odd angle on your elbows.

Aleksander was quick to come help you up and he bid Vasily goodbye sharply before he whisked you out of the room and back to the Little Palace. You hadn’t spoken a word, in fact, you trembled under the hand that The General had laid on your upper back to guide you. He noticed your trembling after a moment and the second you two had reached the solace of the Little Palace, you turned to him and clasped your hands together nervously.

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“Oh, General, I am so terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene in front of the prince, I just was nervous and-“

He cut you off by holding a hand up and he gave you a gentle smile.

“Everyone knows Vasily doesn’t know personal boundaries. It was not your fault, y/n.” He responded and you instantly calmed down, relieved to not be in trouble with the most powerful Grisha in Ravka.

Since then, Aleksander had been curious of the clumsy, nervous little Healer that had been brought to him, and he made a point to get to know you better.

After a year of being at The Little Palace, you and The General had gotten very close, and you considered him to be your best friend.

He however, considered you to be more. He hadn’t found himself so taken with a single person for nearly four hundred years, and the worst part was you didn’t even seem to realize it.

He tried to make it known to you, but he wasn’t quite sure how at first, so he’d do little things. For example, one night after you’d been caught in the rain out riding with him, he came to your quarters and swaddled your shivering form in his warmest cloak. Or another time when he took you on a walk out to the forest and he’d plucked flowers from the ground and tucked them in your hair.

Eventually it grew into more. He’d shower you with compliments often. He became much touchier with you, embracing you for long periods of time, giving you little cheek and forehead kisses when he greeted you or bid you goodbye.

He’d even revealed his name to you one night while the two of you laid in his bed. You liked coming to his room late at night, and he’d entertain you by messing with his shadows above your head. You’d watch them intently as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world while he watched you with the same passion.

But you still didn’t seem to get it.

It had been about two weeks since you’d seen Aleksander, and he had just returned from a little trip to the frontlines to check up on everything and bring more troops to the Second Army. When he arrived at the Palace, you excitedly greeted him on his horse and he wrapped both arms around you, almost tackling you to the ground.

“Take me with you next time! I about died of boredom here. I can’t keep mending David’s paper cuts, it’s so mundane.” You complained playfully.

“Take you with me? And have you distract me? Keep dreaming, pretty.” He commented and you sighed dramatically and fell backwards, knowing he’d catch you.

He did, of course and he pulled you up straight again and then grabbed your hand, leading you towards the Little Palace.

“Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to dinner with the King this evening?” He asked slowly and looked down at you.

You glanced up at him with your eyebrow raised and you shook your head, “I’m not saying no. But is that the kind of thing you do with friends? I mean, I feel like it’s an opportunity wasted on me. You could take David or Genya. The King likes them more, anyway.” You stated.

He nearly rolled his eyes. Friends. How oblivious could one person be?

“Perhaps. But I wanted you to come. Because you are important to me, and there’s no one else I’d rather spend my time with, truth be told.” He explained and pushed open the door to the palace. You both walked inside hand in hand and you glanced up at Aleksander with a bright smile.

“I’ll go then. If I’m that important, how could I miss it?”

You had no idea.

The dinner had gone well. Aleksander convinced you eagerly to wear a black kefta that matched his own, and then upon seeing you in it, his heart utterly melted. It was hard to keep his focus on anything other than you at dinner, and that was for certain.

The walk back to The Little Palace was a quiet one. You had your head leaned against his arm while the two of you walked and he glanced down at you with a small smile.

“Would you care to join me back in my chambers for a little while?” He asked and you looked up at him.

Your eyes pierced his own and the urge to kiss you right there in the hall was inexplicable. He had to tear his eyes away from yours while he walked you the rest of the way to his room. Once inside, he closed the doors behind both of you and he turned to you.

“Did you have an enjoyable night?” He asked softly and you walked around his war table, dragging your finger along the edge.

“Mhm. It was nice, thank you, Aleksander.” You said sweetly and looked back at him over your shoulder.

Your eyes caught his once again and you gave him a soft smile, “You look nice.” You commented and then turned your attention back to the war table. You touched the model of The Fold in front of you and you let out a giggle.

“Considering how much time you spend hovering over this, I’d expect a more lifelike model.” You teased and twisted a bit of your hair around your finger.

“Well. That’s the best we did.” He teased back and approached you, sending a tendril of shadow through the air to tap your nose. You scrunched your nose up cutely and reached up to run your fingers through the cold shadow wisps in front of your face.

“I love it when you do that. Your shadows are so… lovely.” You hummed, and with that, he sent more little tendrils of shadow your way, loving the way you giggled, stared at them in awe, and reached out to touch them as if they were fragile.

You had never been one to shy away from his shadows. Perhaps you were one of the only ones like that, too. He kept his eyes on you while you dragged your finger through the shadowy air before you, and he suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take the aching feeling in his chest when he looked at you, the burning desire to have you as his own, the indisputable and undeniable fact that he was in love with you.

He found himself moving forward at alarming speed and he grabbed your face in his hands desperately. He stared down at you wildly and the gaze you returned was bewildered and confused.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, your voice so little and nervous.

He shook his head and he pulled your face closer to his so that he could kiss between your eyes.

“No. But I need you to listen to me.” He said eagerly and you gave him a little nod, allowing him to continue.

“Y/n. You are one of the most oblivious people I’ve met in my life. How much more obvious can I be?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aleksander.” You replied nervously and your eyes raked his face.

“I am in love with you, for the love of the Saints, y/n. I am so in love with you, it brings me to my knees. For months now, I have only fallen harder and harder for you, and you just don’t seem to even notice. You sleep in my bed, I hold your hand, I’m glued to your side whenever I’m here, I take you to events, I show you off when you wear black… I don’t understand how you don’t get it! I am in love with you, so painstakingly in love.”

You blinked a few times up at him and then you let out a mirthful little giggle.

“Oh, oh my. Aleksander, why didn’t you say something sooner?” You asked and raised your eyebrows up at him.

Your reaction clearly wasn’t the one he was expecting and he stared down at you with wide eyes, his hands still holding your face gently.

“You should have just told me, because then I would’ve told you that I’m so, so in love with you.” You said with another little laugh.

Aleksander didn’t even have time to feel relieved and elated about your reply before you were standing on your toes and dragging him down to you by his shirt to plant a warm kiss on his lips.

Your kiss now wasn’t like any of the times he’d ever imagined kissing you. It was so much better. He kissed you back with a sweetness that was almost tangible between your lips and your hands found his neatly combed hair.

He broke the kiss breathlessly and he stared down at you in the dim light of his bedroom. You bit down on your bottom lip as you looked up at him and he shook his head.

“You’re intoxicating.” Was all he said before he dove back down and kissed you again, this time backing you up against the table before he lifted you up onto it. He stood with your legs on either side of his thighs and he placed a sloppy kiss on either corner of your lips before he kissed down your chin and up along your jawline.

You let out a breathy moan when his lips brushed across the spot just between your ear and jaw, and he closed his eyes tightly. He sucked on the skin over that spot and pulled back once he was satisfied with the blossom of broken capillaries just underneath your skin, creating a mark that would stay for the next few coming days. You reached up and pushed his kefta off of his shoulders as he began to kiss down the side of your neck sloppily and you shivered.

“Aleksander.” You whispered and he pulled back slowly to look down at you questioningly.

You glanced up into his eyes and then you let out a little whine.

“Take off your shirt please.” You said softly, your cheeks heating up.

He let out a little chuckle at your request but he didn’t argue as he took off his layers of tops. While he was undressing himself, you rid yourself of your own kefta and you slipped down off of the table and turned around in front of him to show him the buttons of your dress.

“I’ll need help with this too.” You said shyly and he wasted absolutely no time, moving in and unbuttoning your dress as quickly as he could. When he pushed it off of your shoulders, he brought his hands around to rest on your bare torso, drawing your back up against his chest tightly.

Your dress hung loosely at your waist and you wiggled a bit against him to get the skirts to fall to the floor. You stepped out of them and then you took his hands and brought them up to your lips. You placed slow kisses on each of his fingertips and he let out a long sigh, your lips feeling like the softest silks in the world to him.

He gently pulled one hand away from your grip while you kissed the other and he reached down to gently slip his fingers down into your underwear. He rested his chin down against your shoulder and he very slowly dragged his middle finger in two little circles around your clit. You gasped against his fingertips and you froze, your body moving backwards against his even more.

He repeated the same motion a few more times before you grabbed his wrist and shook your head.

“Oh, please don’t tease me. Please.” You whispered and he let out a little chuckle. Normally he’d be more inclined to make you beg for him, but he’d save that for another day.

He spun you around and reached behind you carelessly and swept all the models of landmarks and such off of his war table and he hoisted you back up onto it.

He quickly reached up and pulled your underwear down until they were around your knees and you could easily kick them off, and he pushed your legs apart, standing in between them. You leaned back against the table on your elbows and looked up at him, letting out a needy whine.

“Aleksander, please.” You breathed and he brought his hand up to your cunt.

He looked up into your eyes for a while before he inched his fingers upwards through your folds, gathering your slick on his fingertips. You leaned your head backwards and let out a little sigh of relief and he took this as encouragement to press his thumb down against your clit. You let out a little mewl at the new contact and he had never heard such a pretty sound before. He started slowly, his thumb gently circling your clit.

“Look at you, being such a good, patient little thing.” He murmured appreciatively. He glanced down at his hand on your core and he continued to move his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

After a moment of this, he brought his free hand up and he pushed your legs open further before he traced his pointer finger around your entrance. You wiggled your hips down closer to his hand, feeling utterly empty and Aleksander only clicked his tongue and murmured something about having patience up at you.

A few agonizing moments went by of him running his finger along your entrance, when without warning, he pushed it inside of you. You clenched around his finger and you let out a little moan, waiting for him to move again. He steadily continued the movement over your clit as he curled the finger inside of you up a few times and you raised your hips off of the table.

“Oh, please. More.” You begged and lifted your head to stare down at him. He simply gave you a wink before he pulled his finger out of you. You didn’t even have time to be disappointed before he was plunging two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out of you steadily. You moaned again, this time much more breathlessly and he quickened his pace on your clit along with his fingers inside of you. Within moments, he had you gasping and whining, chasing a release that was so close.

You sat and pleaded quietly with him to go faster and when he finally obliged, you snapped. You let out a sharp gasp and then moaned loudly. He didn’t even need your moans to know you were cumming, because you tightened impossibly around his fingers and he hummed.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good job.” He murmured and continued to fuck you with his fingers through your orgasm. When you’d finally calmed yourself, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to your lips.

You opened your eyes to see his fingers in front of your face and you opened your mouth obediently and took them inside.

“Good, taste yourself, angel.” He breathed and then pulled his fingers away from your mouth only to put them in his own. He licked them clean before he gently grabbed you by the thighs and held your legs on either side of his hips and lifted you off of the table.

The hardness in his pants brushed up against your newly sensitive core and you gasped, earning yet another chuckle from Aleksander. He carried you into his bedroom and then gently tossed you down on his bed. He stood over you as you stared up at him with eyes glazed over with need and he kicked his boots off and yanked his pants off along with his underwear.

He looked down at you and stroked himself a few times before he leaned over your body and brushed the tip of his cock against your entrance a few times.

“If I knew this is how it would end, I would’ve confessed my love for you sooner.” He teased with a breathy laugh.

You smiled blissfully up at the man above you and you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled him down for a slow kiss, and he slipped himself inside of you, earning a gasp. You distractedly stopped kissing him and he pulled away from your lips slightly as he slowly slid himself into you fully. Once you’d taken all of him, he stayed still for a moment, giving you time to adjust.

You tossed your head back and then you tapped the back of his neck, “Aleksander, I do adore you, but I need you to move.”

He did as you asked and he slowly pulled out before plunging himself back inside of you, a lewd, wet sound echoing off of the walls.

He let out a low groan and he closed his eyes, leaning his head down so that his forehead touched yours.

“You feel so good, my love. Taking me so well.” He grunted and easily found an initially slow pace that the both of you enjoyed.

You pressed your fingertips into his shoulder blades and you let out a few soft moans in the form of his name. You pressed your lips to his ear and you let out a whimper against it.

“Faster, please.” You whispered and he had no choice but to increase the pace of which his cock was pumping in and out of you at, just to earn a few more sweet moans from you.

It wasn’t long before all that was audible in the room was the sound of skin slapping together and your high pitched moans, mixing with his low praises. Your second climax approached you quickly, and Aleksander deduced this by the way you were clenching around his cock. He grabbed onto one of your legs tightly and hoisted it up around his waist and he thrust in particularly sharply, and he hit a spot deep inside of you that had you screaming his name and digging your nails into his back.

“Come on, my love. Cum for me. You’ve done so well, let me reward you.” He whispered and you dragged your nails down his back, whimpering and moaning simultaneously.

He continued with his sharp thrusts up into you, hitting that spot within you each time, and after just a few more quick strokes, you tightened your leg around his waist and threw your head back as your second orgasm of the night washed over your entire body in waves. You clung to him shakily as he continued to fuck you, chasing his own high. It wasn’t long after you had came that he finished as well, releasing inside of you. He stayed still over you for a few moments while you panted and slowly calmed down, and finally he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

“Have you really been hinting at being in love with me for months now?” You asked after moments of post-coital silence.

Aleksander rolled his eyes and snorted, pulling you tightly down against his chest.

“I have. And I was just about to give up.”

“Nah. You could never give up on me.” You said with a little giggle and Aleksander smiled and placed a few kisses against your cheek.

“Oh, milaya. I know.”

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x you #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #the darkling #the darkling imagine #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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helpallthenamesaretaken · 8 months

Text

E👏P👏I👏S👏O👏D👏E SEVENNNN

We just started off with percy walking his way into crusty’s place like woah hold there buddy we’re starting quickly

the set is so pretty and colourful why couldnt everything else be like them ahem ahem waterland cough cough

Why do they know everything already 😭they’re really taking out the middle school cluelessness out of everyone in this show and its making me mad sometimes

What do you MEAN he casually has an entrance to the underworld?

walker’s acting was rlly good in this ep btw

The whole bed scene was so anticlimactic and quick STOP

”youre lucky we let you keep your head on” YEAH WELL SO IS DISNEY

grover just walking in like is it over now?? DISNEY I BEG OF YOU LET GROVER DO SOMETHING

grover’s squeaky ball to calm himself down😭 🥺

Sally and percy angst was not on my bingo card but here we are

WHEN YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO KEEP HURTING EACH OTHER 😭😭

That transition was neat

wow what a well lit underworld dayum

its confirmed percy and annabeth watched that movie

“Only suckers wait in line” savage

rip ‘we drowned in a bathtub’ hello ‘everyone is dying to some extent’

i dont know if its just me but i feel like the jokes and the humour of the show was more aligned to its pjo adult fans, rather than the books, which rick included middle school humor because that was what the initial audience was. I mean removing the fun of the lotus casino and replacing it with a scene of percy driving a car (which is an activity adults do) and the dying on the inside is something only adults in their quarter life crisis complain about

Idk it doesnt feel like annabeth is scratching cerberus because she genuinely likes dogs, it feels like more of a strategical move which i am not the happiest about BECAUSE I WANT SOFT ANNABETH

squeak squeak

PERCY PULLING ANNABETH UP FROM A CLIFF

”excuse me” i love how professional she is

i read so many fanfics and theories on how the fourth pearl would go missing?? And grover lost it??? Thats it???

I hate that principal why are you taking something a 10 year old said and say he needs ‘psychological monitoring’?? Hon he drew a horsie with wings that he claimed he saw, he doesnt need to go to a psych ward or therapy or something

but imagine percy hearing this in the other room🥺

I feel like all of them have a reason to get rooted and stuff in asphodel but its apparently only annabeth so

not grover seeing two of his friends turning into trees🥺

Idk grover’s not that emotional at all about anything?? Hes supposed to be scared and on the verge of tears 24/7? Not aryans fault just the writers

ANNABETH STRESSING ON THE FACT THAT THEY NEED TO SAVE PERCYS MOM TOO 🥹

Percy rlly just said “periodt💅”

They really copy pasted hades from the musical why is no one talking about that?

walker’s acting>>>>>

why are you trying so hard to get rid of me 🥺

THE WHOLE SALLY AND POSEIDON SCENE 😭 NO SALLY U ARE NOT FAILING

I love the fact that percy’s still chilling there

I WAS ACTUALLY EXPECTING POSEIDON TO GO ACT AS A WAITER TO TALK TO PERCY LOLL

what do you mean they have to find the helm too???

why no one help grover up??

poseidons speech as percy gets up and looks at ares is peak cinema

#General thoughts: its not as cramped as i thought it would be thankfully #But still there was so much going on #percy jackson #rick riordan #pjo fandom #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #heroes of olympus #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy and grover #percy pjo #percy series #percy and annabeth #annabeth #grover

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dr-futbol-blog · 5 months

Text

Hide and Seek

Finally, we get to Sheppard and McKay.

Lead characters, it is natural for them to be in scenes together. Their initial meeting is at the chair platform in the Antarctic base. The one notable aspect of this is that while McKay's jealousy of Beckett and his ATA gene was laid out real thick just moments ago, he displays only excitement watching the platform come to life at Sheppard's touch. He admires this man from the start.

The next time we see them together, it's in Atlantis. And for some reason, McKay seems to follow Sheppard where ever he goes. The major is walking around the gate room turning on lights around him and McKay is right on his heel. From the moment he steps out of the gate, he is following this man that is a stranger to him. They seem to keep winding up in the same places.

Rodney is also doing the looking but trying not to look thing. Looking everywhere else but where he clearly wants to be looking.

Make note that during this scene there was a clear focal point in the room in the bottle of champagne that had just rolled through the gate. Everyone else in the room was looking at Elizabeth holding up the bottle.

Their first proper exchange is the one where Sheppard reveals his math skills to McKay, which has been analyzed to death. Sheppard is cool and calculated, uses his charm to get his way. Rodney is only too quick to acquiesce. Unlike Col. Sumner and Dr. Weir, he is completely defenseless against it. Intuitively, Sheppard also knows what strings to pull. Weir is charmed through candor, Sumner (who does seem to warm up to him eventually) is charmed through the display of guile. Rodney McKay is charmed through intellect, so that's what Sheppard uses to manipulate him.

We get much more interaction between them in the next episode, Hide and Seek (S01E03).

The throwing off the balcony, shot him in the leg scene is familiar to everyone. There's certainly bonding going on, people seeking companionship marooned in another galaxy. McKay displays his admiration of Sheppard in multiple ways, the least of which is not volunteering for experimental and potentially dangerous gene therapy for the hope that he might become just a little bit more like the major.

(And note that while Sheppard and McKay are playing with each other, there are people still without living quarters because "the major seems to be taking his time" making sure they're safe. Priorities.)

There's a big lampshade moment in the scene where the two of them walk into the closet together, and then come out of the closet together. A closet is, in fact, explicitly referenced:

McKay: Someone thought it would make a nice closet. Sheppard: This is definitely not a closet.

This episode also marks the beginning of Rodney being oblivious to Sheppard finding double entendres and innuendo in something he says innocuously in a tense, potentially life-threatening situation.

Sheppard: Think we're going to need a bigger boat. McKay: Size doesn't matter. Sheppard: That's a myth!

My guy, is this really the time for this?

In fact, Sheppard never misses an opportunity to turn something McKay says into a sexual reference (and this is far from the only instance that reveals he is a total and utter size queen; what is he saying here? He's saying that a big dick is better, that's what he's saying here. He's saying that he prefers a big dick). It's pathological. It's Freudian. It's witness to Sheppard constantly having sex on the brain when it comes to this one man, and only this one man, as we never see him do it with anyone else.

All of this is really cute and fun, but what I actually want to highlight is Rodney's Big Damn Hero moment toward the end of the episode.

You see, John Sheppard is presented as the All-American Action Hero. We, as the audience, are supposed to see him like this and the people in-universe are supposed to think of him like this. Rodney McKay certainly sees him as the hero, idolizing him to the point of constructing an image of Sheppard that barely corresponds with reality. He is the protagonist.

Only, for John Sheppard, it is Rodney McKay that is the Hero.

This is lampshaded in the episodes Sateda (S03E04) and Tao of Rodney (S03E14). Rodney often surreptitiously volunteers information, masked in the guise of humour, that he means about Sheppard but would never confess out loud. In the former, he tells us (through describing to Beckett his relationship with Ronan): "We have an unspoken bond. I mean, there are things that go deeper than words, my friend. Deeper than words. But you wouldn't know anything about that, because you never look past the surface of anyone, do you?"

It is humorous when he says it about Ronan. It is absolutely true of his relationship with Sheppard.

Similarly, in Tao of Rodney he describes his relationship with Zelenka to Ronon: "He tries to hide it, but deep down, I'm the wind beneath his wings."

It is humorous when he says it about Zelenka. It is absolutely true of his relationship with Sheppard.

He is the wind beneath the wings of the flyboy, the pilot, the airforce major/colonel, the guy who thinks that people who don't want to fly are crazy. The guy with the wings. Rodney McKay has been the wind beneath them from the moment onward that happens at the climax of Hide and Seek that changes everything for Sheppard.

The lyrics of the song from Bette Midler, arguably the world's best known gay icon, tell us how Sheppard views McKay:

It must have been cold there in my shadow To never have sunlight on your face You were content to let me shine, that's your way You always walked a step behind

So I was the one with all the glory While you were the one with all the strength

Did I ever tell you you're my hero? You're everything, everything I wish I could be Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle For you are the wind beneath my wings

It is obvious that Rodney thinks of Sheppard as his hero. Because we frequently see Rodney fear for his life, avoid conflict, think his way out of situations, his heroism is more difficult to recognize. But the thing is, Rodney feels the fear and does it anyway. He is not afraid to show that he is afraid.

John, on the other hand, is so full of fear every moment of his life that if he were to acknowledge it even for one moment, it would paralyze him. He cannot afford to entertain fear, let alone show it to anyone else, friend or foe. And it is not merely losing the people he cares about that he fears, he also fears showing other people who he is where Rodney is always unabashedly himself. John thinks that Rodney doesn't care whether people like him or not, which makes him free.

Conversely, John has consciously constructed himself into someone that people will like, he reflexively uses his charm as a weapon, as self-defense. He has spent his entire life pretending to be someone he is not, even going so far as to marry the woman his father liked, as a survival mechanism. In the episode, we learn that Sheppard thinks scary things (the masks of hockey goalies are scary while football "is a real man's sport") are unmanly. Fear is unmanly. Showing fear is the unmanliest thing there is.

For John Sheppard, Rodney McKay is a Hero.

We are shown this explicitly in Harmony (S04E14). Oh, we're meant to snicker at this. This is so counter to reality, is it not? This is not how the world sees it. This is not how Rodney McKay sees it, even though in the episode he jibes that this is how he remembers the events. But this is 100% exactly, entirely and fully the way John Sheppard views the two of them, and has done so since the end of Hide and Seek.

This is in contrast to Beckett and Peter making fun of McKay at the beginning of the episode by inventing hero names for him: Mister Invincible, Captain Untouchable. While everyone recognizes Rodney's intellect, no one else thinks of him in this way. The thread running through the episode is McKay conquering his fear which is highlighted by the ancient mcguffin that he is initially unable to turn off because his fear is too great to relinquish the protective barrier.

For John Sheppard, because of who he is and how he has lived his life, Rodney McKay is a Big Damn Hero. Rodney McKay is brave enough to not only feel the fear but to let his fear show, and go for the Hail Mary anyway.

At the beginning of the episode, John was mostly amused by Rodney and his antics; amused enough to want to spend time with him, invite him to share something very personal to him (the football game that was one of the few possessions he had brought with him), to repeatedly tease him knowing what buttons to push, to talk about him even when he wasn't there ("Don't tell McKay what I said about hockey not being a real man's sport ‘cause it's a Canadian thing; a little touchy about it."). Also, look at him smiling as he's thinking about McKay here! All of these classic signs of attraction, by the by.

And yet by the end of the episode it's transmorphed into something more, something genuine.

Where previously he mocked McKay for his fear ("He... fainted"; "That's okay, you might faint again"), he now reinforces Rodney's self-ascription ("Thank you for not saying the other thing"), displaying his respect and admiration for Rodney's willingness to and capacity for self-sacrifice even in the face of paralyzing fear. Sheppard recognizes that although he might undertake one suicide mission after another, Rodney is able to do something that he does not believe he ever could.

This is where it begins. This is why he falls so hard.

#stargate atlantis #sga #sga meta #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. hide and seek #ep. harmony #ep. sateda #ep. tao of rodney #ep. rising

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simp999 · 7 months

Text

A New Home Ch. 28

Various! Splatoon Manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

Wc: 1k

A/N: Gloves looks so much better this time I hated how I drew him last banner www

Back to the Start! Previous Next

Your smile only widens at the whole 'aren't you the special reserve?' line, knowing what Rider truly had planned. He really was good at this whole deception thing. This match was packed with action, there were many notes to take. Of course, Emperor likely wouldn't fall for the same move twice- but it goes to show what he's best at predicting. This game isn't all about reading your opponent's actions and adapting, it's about reading, predicting, and being able to adapt before actions take place. Guessing properly. Knowing that if somebody fliches towards one direction even a little how the whole following 10 seconds may play out. Seeing it many, many steps ahead.

It was hard to explain, but you believed that you and your team were slowly making it to that point- if not already there. Seeing plays happen before it even crossed the opponent's mind. Seeing their best option, knowing what they're gonna do next, and intercepting.

One thing that was obvious but you realized could be a liability was how diligent and precise they were. There was no room for mistakes- or rather, they were unsure of how to deal with them because of how used to perfection they are. There is absolutely no chaos. They freeze in the face of disarray.

You scribble down a few more notes as the match comes to an end, shutting your manual with a quiet thump. You quickly glance over at Prince who's analyzing his past opponents, slowly going through character development right in front of you. It's interesting to be able to know what's going on behind the scenes and in character's heads as things play out, really.

It's annoying sometimes, though. You can't help but worry about how fake this all feels, or how you might be in a coma or something. It feels too real. Not to mention; what if other characters found out? Canon as well as non-canon ones? Would you be hated? They'd be skeptical at the very least, right?

No, you've done a good job with cover-ups up until this point. Living in Calamary county, running from home- it was all realistic and added up to a good backstory, right? You'd be fine, you're sure.

You rub the bridge of your nose and lightly shake your head before huffing as you stand up. You needed a mental break. If you remember correctly, Goggles and Gloves' battle was next, so that could be the perfect time to relax and possibly have a laugh or two.

Off The Hook announces the quarter finals- wait, weren't these supposed to be the semis? Something must have changed given your team entering. No big issue, things have all gone just as the manga has predicted it, so there's no need to worry.

You make your way out of the stands out to Deca Tower, having to wait a bit for your teammates to catch up. You couldn't blame them, being with their idols; but it seemed the S4 was trailing along once again. Nothing better to do, you suppose. You tease the idea of them wanting to be around you,- Aloha's quick to wink at that and shoot you some finger guns, but is quickly cut off by you saying that surely it's because they're looking forward to more of your... "fun" training. Skull's the only one who doesn't seem to inwardly panic at your words, tilting his head. As airheaded as always, that sweetheart.

You do a small stretch, your body not being a fan of sitting still for too long. You let out a soft groan before going over to the board to remind yourself where the next battle takes place. With one hand on your hip, you trail a finger along the board, looking for your timing. You eventually find it and your team and the S4 are off to watch the next match.

Leo's quick to say hi to Rider and find some seats nearby, and you offer a lazy wave and smile before sitting down. Tasha's surprisingly quick to sit next to Bamboo and begin some small talk. Now that's new. But you're proud of her, not dwelling on it too much. The two keep their voices low, as expected of them- it seems they're talking about weapons or something.

The match begins, and you can't help but smile at all the shenanigans. You forgot how fun and easy-going matches could be; being so used to salty, aggressive, and rude opponents. You lean your cheek into your palm and chuckle at Half-Rim's "four-eyes" comment. He seems so serious all the time, you think it adds to the humor. You enjoy the back-and-forth banter, and even enjoy the shouts from Leo, unsure whether to cheer for Bobble Hat or Gloves. It seems he has some bias towards Gloves, though... you can't blame him, he must be happy to have a "bro" (more of a fanboy-turned-friend, but that doesn't matter now).

"As always, I have no idea if he's amazing or just stupid,"

Ah, so this is when that iconic line was said. Hah, nice.

You look down at the battle before you. Each member has a smile written across their face, and you're beginning to rethink how they could take down Team Monarch. 'Realistically, back in my world, it would make no sense. Those main character powers sure are something. Or, well- Goggles seems to be a very amiable guy, so there's that too.'

You look around at his other teammates, admiring each one and their own strategies.

'He surrounds himself with good people, too.'

You shift from your palm to your knuckles to lean on, watching the battle continue to play out.

'He never did end up swaying Mask, so maybe it's not all about being a main character, but having a good heart? Wonder if that's why so many people follow along with him and enjoy his presence.'

Unbeknownst to you, you have a few pairs of eyes on you for all the same reasons.

Feb.7.24

Next Part

#x reader #fanfic #splatoon manga #splatoon #coroika #splatoon manga x reader #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #splatoon manga gloves #splatoon manga goggles #splayoon manga gloves x reader #goggles coroika #gloves coroika #emperor coroika #splatoon manga emperor #splatoon manga emperor x reader

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out-of-luck-and-minorly-stuck · 1 year

Text

Secrecy || Wandanat

(Alternate Universe)

Natasha has always been obedient. Does literally everything that the Red Room has tasked her to do, which was mainly to assassinate people.

It wasn’t like she was given much of a choice anyway, she just does it.

Her goal was to seek information then kill mercilessly. She was so used to it that she doesn't really feel guilt anymore. All that's on her mind is to kill. Because that was her place in this world, to kill.

Wanda, on the other hand, was on the opposite side of Natasha's. Though, they haven't seen each other but they are fully aware of each other's reputations.

Nat, being the most dangerous assassin that she is, and Wanda, being one of the earth's defenders, an Avenger.

Wanda was bored... and hungry, but mainly bored one night. Her face scrunched, not wanting to get up. It was also like quarter till midnight so she really should be asleep by now, but she's not. And she can’t just go outside her room and get snacks, people would think she was like sleep walking… again.

It's okay, happens to most of us.

As she rolled over to another position, finding a spot on her bed, she felt a sudden vibrate from her phone which said, received a message from "Tasha".

U awake? :/

Yeah, why r u still up

Well, I can't sleep. Something's been eating me alive lately, I need to tell u something.

U can tell me anything now, u know

Yeah, but I feel like it's more appropriate to tell you this in person.

Oh alright, meet me at our spot? :0

Sure. Thanks, Maxi :) stay safe, love

She immediately got up from her bed, grabbed her red jacket, tied up her shoes, and quietly attempted to sneak out of the Avengers Compound.

The things that she does for the girl… damn.

She is literally sneaking out for the night, couldn’t get anymore exciting than that.

Walking past the kitchen, tiptoeing only to hear a sudden cough from someone behind her.

Fuck, I'm screwed... She thought, as she slowly turned her head only to find Pietro, who crossed his arms, looking at Wanda suspiciously.

"What are you doing? Also, why are you sneaking away in the middle of the night? Oh- Are you meeting your girlfriend somewhere?" Pietro asked a million questions at a wide-eyed (also so close to having a heart attack) Wanda. Noticing the other girl’s expression, Pietro smiled smugly at the other girl, who shook her head at her twin. He knows she's queer and supports her. But your lovely girl, Wanda here, is still closeted.

"Shut up, she's not my girlfriend" Wanda chuckled at her brother's comment.

Then quickly added "Please don't tell anyone, I'll be quick" Wanda pleaded, as the guilt was slowly washing on her. They can never know that she's meeting up with the one and only, Black Widow.

"Okay, but promise me you'll be quick?"

"Of course"

Wanda walked into the familiar path of her and Nat's secret place was. As the fresh zephyr flows through her, she smiled, looking at the moonlight above her.

She silently walked as she arrived at her destination, a small park around the city's uncrowded areas.

Looking around slowly, she spots Nat sitting on a bench, waiting patiently.

She instantly smiled at the scene, Nat looked cute, although the other girl would not hesitate to argue with her when she says it out loud.

She walked up to the girl, sitting down with her while mumbling out, "Hey".

"Hey, Um- I have something to tell you, little red" Nat whispered out loud enough for Wanda to hear.

"Yeah?"

"Um, I don't know how to say this but-"

"Take your time, love"

"I was originally tasked to kill you..." Nat looked down, whispering. She couldn't look at Wanda's face after saying that.

"Why didn't you?" Wanda whispered back, softly.

"Because... I can't- I couldn't- I- I couldn't imagine killing someone I'm in love with"

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sherbet-shivers · 5 months

Text

A Minor Malfunction Part 2/3

**Please do not share to non-kink snz blogs — no need to drag vanillas into this! Formatting tips are always welcome <3**

Blurb: Co/nnor is still suffering a little virus (Part 1 here and Part 3 here)

Characters: Co/nnor R/K800 (-centric because he’s babygirl) and H/ank A/nderson

Length: 5k+ words

TW: cursing, human and robot injuries and homicide, fake drugs, some coughing; lightest of spoilers

Since investigations were never quick, Connor really should’ve expected this case to be no exception.

It took roughly half an hour just to reach the crime scene alone, and now that they’d arrived, minutes were accruing like Deviants themselves. The scene wasn’t too unique compared to other similar incidents, but that didn’t mean it was absent surprises either.

For starters, there were multiple human victims — two adult men aged somewhere between thirty and forty years. They were dealers allegedly draining their own androids for their Thirium in order to produce more red ice for local distribution. The Androids were both inactive and found just outside the immediate area given they’d lost a critical amount of blue blood. It was likely they’d shut down since there was no way their bio components could sustain their systems on such minimal fluid. This was the first case in which Connor and Hank had investigated people using their own androids to bolster their personal RI supply, and for some reason, Connor doubted it’d be the last.

The men had been assaulted by the Androids in their kitchen based on the amount of blood smattering the countertops and the overall state of disarray. Chairs were knocked over, the fridge was left open, the stovetops were on when police arrived, and there were broken dishes, toppled pots, and loose silverware scattered everywhere. The men had done a good job remaining inconspicuous in their affairs; even their next door neighbors reported no suspicions of their notorious trade, nor the abuse of their Androids. Connor purported that the tiny apartment was designated for the sole purpose of their operations — not particularly lived in or used for shelter. His theory was based on the fact there was no food in the house, and every single cabinet, cupboard, or similar compartment had been repurposed for RI storage. Not to mention the home was completely battered, obviously lacking much needed maintenance and cleaning. Even the naked human eye could catch the layers of dust and grime coating every flat surface in sight. Hank was the first to say as much after he entered the living quarters and immediately tripped over a bag of old Chinese food containers and syringes.

“Fucking shit!” He had hissed, glaring down at the trash bag like it had personally assaulted him. “I swear if this place is crawling with rats like that damn pigeon house I will shoot those filthy bastards on site!”

Miraculously none of the officers had encountered a single rodent; however less fortunately, Connor’s nose was starting to grow unbearably itchy given all the dust and cobwebs decorating the dry air. Not to mention it was freezing inside — the other investigating officers bundled under several layers and still chattering against the cold. Connor suspected the leaks in the roof and broken windows were to blame for the influx of frigid air, which was starting to really stiffen the cogs in his chest and extremities.

Connor slowly gravitates to Hank’s side, peeking over his shoulder as the senior observes one of the victims.

“More red ice,” he grumbles as he plucks a PVC packet off one of the men’s person. The crystallized drug sparkles like false ruby under the scope of Hank’s flashlight. “Given the toxicology report, it’s a wonder how this guy didn’t overdose before he was murdered.”

Hank passes the packet to Connor, the latter fumbling the substance between his fingers while he examines it more closely.

“The composition isn’t exact to other red ice compounds we’ve seen in the past,” Connor observes. “Perhaps they were developing a hybrid; something inexpensive with a similar effect and appearance.”

Hank scoffs, shaking his head. He pats down the rest of the victim’s body. “A living eye could never catch all that, but I guess that’s why you’re here, right Connor?”

“Correct,” Connor confirms.

“Well,” Hank says, rising from the floor and clapping his hands together to rid them of the dirt caked in the grooves of his skin, “I have my theories, but uh, why don’t you go first while I wash this shit off?”

“Of course,” Connor nods as he watches Hank step over the victim’s body and head for the kitchen sink. He wastes no time pulling up the list of evidence saved to his specs.

“Based on what I’ve gathered and the analysis of my digital reconstruction, Victim A was likely assaulted by Android B first. Victim B was preoccupied with the stovetop while Victim A busied himself with collecting the Androids’ Thirium.”

Hank hums, encouraging Connor to continue while he tries to unstick the sink’s rusty left handle. “Go on.”

“To access the blue blood, the victims would often drain a specific wound afflicting the android’s torso; the area just beneath where a human’s right rib cage would end. The puncture wound was scarcely healed between draining instances, and therefore the most reasonable source of continued drainage. I believe Victim A was attempting to reach Android B’s puncture when the bot suddenly refused his inspection. Thus-“

“SHIT!”

Connor jerks in surprise as Hank yanks his hands from the sink basin to avoid the gush of suspiciously gross water pouring out the faucet.

“Ah that’s just fucking great! Ice cold, filthy fucking water! Matches the house itself, I guess,” Hank curses as he extends his hands away from his body. Even a few of the surrounding officers take steps away from his reach.

“Hang onto that thought. I’m gonna go wash this off in a puddle or something.”

With that, Hank and the remaining officers head outside the home, leaving Connor alone with the still running water. The Android heads over to the sink and promptly halts the flow, which has collected in the basin turning it a muddy, sewage brown. For sanitary reasons, he should really drain the fluid, but something about the discoloration even has him grimacing.

While inspecting the mess, Connor is completely unaware of the steady pool of rainwater collecting just overhead, seeping through the cracks of the ceiling; and just as he’s about to return to his former position, the roof panels give way and unleash their tide. With his reaction time hindered, Connor barely side-steps the planks crashing to his sides. It’s a lucky dodge, but still not quite good enough to avoid the wave of water that crashes him dead on. Within the blink of an eye, he’s become drenched in icy fluid.

He’s thankful he was the brunt of the accident and not Hank or the other human officers, but if he wasn’t already shivering before, he sure was now. That pummeling had put a dent in his defensive barrier, and the large influx of water was starting to sink into his circuits faster than it could be flushed out.

A similar alert blares through his system, only this time it glows red and reads as a warning.

WARNING!!! Functionality: Highly Impaired. Code: C5Y0091-44BC. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Water Intake: Level 4. Risk Of Shut-Down: Moderate. Self-Repairs Update Ongoing. Time Remaining: 53 Hours, 21 Minutes, And 17 Sec-

“IHT’TDSHY’yiiEW!”

Connor sneezes freely towards the ground, his hands pathetically hugging his shoulders and shaking against his sodden sleeves. Water had definitely infiltrated his cavities, only congesting him further. Get a grip, he mentally commands. Don’t-!

“Hh’PTSHH’huh! ssh’hHIEW!”

Come on! Get a-!

“Connor!”

The Android lifts his head, spotting Hank who's just re-entered the house and is already barreling his way.

“Connor! What happened?!” He asks, examining the android’s body then glancing between the fallen debri and the hole in the ceiling.

“N-Nothing, L-Lieutenant,” Connor stammers, his voice as uneven as autotune. “Th-the ceiling…it must’ve fallen under the p-pressure of the s-storm.”

His voice has taken on a robotic vibration, frying it with digital gravel.

“Jesus…,” Hank murmurs absentmindedly, his gaze returning to Connor himself. “Did it fucking fall on you? Why are you soaked?!”

“I-I’m okay,” Connor reassures, though the constant shivering and sniffling probably doesn’t make him any more convincing. Two other, entering officers are starting to look at him. He didn’t need this extra speculation, so he opts for changing the subject, and fast.

He glances at Hank’s hands.

“D-Did you manage t-to w-wash your hands off?”

Hank stares at Connor like he’s asked him to perform the electric slide. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the smoothest transition out of the spotlight. But even so, he didn’t say something wrong again, did he? Connor smiles through chattering teeth, when suddenly, Hank catches his cheeks in his palms and sternly peers into the Android’s eyes.

“Christ Connor you’re freezing,” he murmurs, an unusual hint of worry seeping through his tone. Connor wasn’t supposed to evoke that tone, so he does his best to console his partner.

“I-I’m okay, Lieutenant,” Connor repeats. “I-I’m just glad n-no one was injured,” he adds, blatantly ignoring the 59% efficiency report blinking in the corner of his sight. “The temperatures m-may slow m-me down, but I assure you I a-am s-still capable of completing my job.”

Hank doesn’t look convinced, far from it actually, but he ultimately chooses to free Connor of his hold, perhaps motivated by the approach of the remaining officers. He clears his throat and nods, averting his eyes to the remainder of the scene. He’d have to clean up the fallen shit, but honestly that was the least of his current concerns. One victim was piled beneath rooftop shambles, and if he knew anything, it was that Fowler would blame him for the tampered scene — whether it was his fault or not.

“Alright,” he grumbles. “But-,” he exclaims, pointing a finger in Connor’s face, “-you’d better tell me if you start bugging out! The last thing we need is you breaking down or glitching or something.”

Connor’s gears tighten. “Of course, Lieutenant. That won’t happen,” he assures.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not filing a broken equipment report after we’re done here,” he mutters, returning to the crime scene. As he does, he huffs under his breath, shaking his head and hiding his expression behind a curtain of loose bangs.

“Fuck, almost actually had me worried there, Con!” He admits. “I seriously almost asked if you wanted a break, or were hurt or feeling okay, but I forgot you don’t really want or feel, well, anything, do you?”

Connor’s hands grip tighter against his arms, leaving scratches across his synthetic skin that are slow to regenerate.

“Correct, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, his LED flashing yellow.

Hank accepts his answer, already having shuffled over to the fallen planks to scoop them out of the way. Connor tries to help him, but Hank intercepts his reach.

“Uh-uh! You keep telling me what you found, then go ahead and re-investigate the bodies, yeah? Or at least, y’know,” he glimpses down at the victim half-buried beneath the rubble, “the ones you can still see.”

…

By the time they’ve managed to clean up the majority of the roof and granted Connor enough leeway to re-inspect the final victim, more than an hour has passed. His metal was freezing cold to the touch, barely above 35 degrees, and his malfunctions were getting worse by the second — only functioning at an even split of 50%.

Still, it looked like their investigation was nearly over. The other cops had long left the area (probably in order to avoid clean-up duty), and Hank was equally ready to go with just the final victim remaining to be studied. For a man who hated his job, he’d rushed to get another look at the body. He was already down on his knees, hovering over Victim A and scouring his wounds with his flashlight.

“So, you’re saying this one attacked the Androids first?”

Connor nods. “Y-Yes. It’s m-most p-probable.”

His stutter was getting worse. So far Hank had been ignoring it, but there was no way he hadn't noticed.

“So run the last part by me again? Y’know, about how the second Android got involved?”

…No response.

That was unusual.

“Connor?” Hank calls.

No response. Again.

What the Hell?

“Connor? Connor??” He repeats, this time glancing back at the Android in question. To his unease, Connor is looking somewhere unseen, as if in a trance. Making a face, Hank claps his hands together, startling the Android out of his daze.

“Goddammit! Connor!!”

Connor blinks twice and immediately looks to his partner.

“Apologies. D-Did you need me?” Connor asks.

“Well I’ve been calling your name four damn times, so yeah,” Hank answers sarcastically. “I thought you said you were fine. The Hell is up with you?”

“N-Nothing, Lieutenant. I’m sorry,” Connor apologizes again. This time though, Hank isn’t letting him slide so easily.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. What’s going on, huh? You’re even loopier than yesterday,” he scoffs. “Y’know I was joking earlier but now I’m not so sure. What is it, huh? You actually malfunctioning or some shit?”

“N-No!” Connor exclaims a bit too hastily, based on the way Hank raises an eyebrow his way. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice so high. It was an impulse he rarely leaned into, but it was difficult given the constant red warning swimming through his ocular piece. “N-No…my operations are functional.”

“Functional?” Hank repeats, placing a hand on his knee. “What happened to optimal?”

For a middle-aged drunkard, Hank was remarkably astute — a quality Connor often admired, just not in this moment.

“I am fine,” Connor breathes, trying to keep his voice as still as possible. “I’ve already ran internal diagnostics. It s-seems that I’ve contracted a small virus that is affecting the r-regulation of my bio-components.”

“What?” Hank exclaims, suddenly up on his feet and fully facing his Android. “Affecting how? For how long??” He asks, bordering concern and curiosity.

“My temperature regulation is h-hindered, resulting in fluctuating internal temps ranging from r-roughly 30 to 120 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“30?!” He knew Connor was cold, just not that cold.

“My ocular c-components are s-similarly impaired, occasionally resulting in low visibility and an inability t-to scan c-certain d-data in the environment. I s-suspect I will not be able to immediately diagnose b-blue blood, as taste receptors are partially numbed.”

Hank honestly didn’t see that as a negative per se, but he wasn’t about to say that aloud.

“And I am experiencing m-mild g-glitching affecting airway c-cavities, though this is, again, a m-mild inconvenience.”

Hank looks Connor up and down, expression unreadable. For the first time, Connor swears he’s sensing something. Something internal outside his usual program, and aside from the errors he’s affected by. This was something new, something strange and unpleasant. Something like…

Anxiety?

He waits for Hank to say something — anything — even if it’s at his own expense, and yet all the detective does is stare at him. Finally, after a few more bated moments, Hank does something unexpected: he laughs. And when he does speak, it’s in the flattest tone Connor’s ever heard out of him — a tone befit an Android.

“So you have a cold.”

Blue rises to Connor’s cheeks. Anxiety was giving way to another unwanted emotion: humiliation.

“…Yes, Lieutenant. The common cold would likely be an equivalent to my condition.”

Hanks laughs again, placing his hands on his hips as he shakes his head in amusement. “Learn something stupid everyday,” he muses. Then, more seriously, he continues: “So what exactly uh, happens when you’re-,” he waves his hands around Connor’s person, gesturing to his entirety,” -like this. Hm? I’m assuming bots don’t get sick leave.”

He was genuinely curious (maybe even a smidge compassionate), and as always, Connor has an answer.

“CyberLife has been notified of my dysfunction, and their report denotes that as a m-model RK800, I am c-capable of both s-self-diagnostics and administering minor self-repairs. A-As such, this inconvenience is nothing I c-cannot h-handle myself. Given approximately-,” his LED hums and glows a faint blue, “-51 hours, 32 minutes and 11 seconds, my s-systems should be rebooted, and myself returned t-to optimal f-functionality. In the meantime, I apologize for any hindrances this may c-cause our investigation, Lieutenant; however, CyberLife has assured that these errors are m-more likely to c-cause self-contained discomfort, and are therefore highly n-negligible to outside company.”

He wiggles in place. “That is why I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m s-sorry for the disturbance, and urge you to ignore my incongruity lest it endanger or c-concern you or others directly.”

“Right…,” Hank nods, still eyeing Connor with skepticism. “But you know it does kind of concern me when you’re all dopey, ignoring my questions and shit.”

“It won’t happen again.”

Hank snorts, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take your word for it, but forgive me if I think you’re full of shit when you say so,” he says, returning to the victim. “So, anything else I should be aware of? Any other surprises?” He chuckles.

Hank awaits an answer, even if it’s meant as a joke, but once again he’s met with silence. He sighs and mutters something unintelligible to himself; something along the lines of “I swear to God kid if you aren’t listening”; but just as he’s about to call Connor again and wake him from whatever tizzy he’s fallen back into, the Android makes a sound he doesn’t recognize.

“H’ih-!”

“Huh?”

Hank waits, but there’s no response again. Was Connor trying to say something and he’d missed it? “Hey! Connor! What did you sa-?”

“Hidt’TZSH’ieEW!”

Hank startles, jerking enough to lose his grip on his flashlight, which tumbles from his hand and rolls across the wood flooring. He swings around fast enough to give someone his age whiplash, still not entirely believing such a human sound was produced by his partner. That is, until he watches him make it again. The android’s shoulders bounce twice, chest inflates with a faux breath, and then-

“Ih’TSHH’Uui! E-Excu’h-! Hhh’idTSHh’iew!”

He somehow catches the final sneeze in an artificial web of fingers. Why he even bothers Hank doesn’t know; after all, it’s not like he could infect anyone. Then again, it was probably just another habit to make him appear more human; though to be honest, Hank almost found it creepy.

When Connor catches his partner staring, he looks utterly embarrassed; the sky-blue blush rushing to his face and discoloring his ski-sloped nose. To regain his composure, he’s quick to readjust his trademark tie and fidget with the cuffs of his sleeve.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” Connor offers sheepishly.

“…did you just fucking sneeze?” Hank asks, only the way he says it makes it sound more like an accusation than an inquiry.

Connor nods and rubs his nose. “Forgive me. It’s another side effect of my-,” he pauses, refusing to say malfunction aloud. “-condition. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“It’s not that I just, didn’t know you things uh, did that,” Hank replies un-eloquently. “Not that I even knew you got sick for Christ’s sake.”

“It’s not common,” Connor answers, his eyes averting shyly. “It’s to vent out my systems. Usually androids don’t need to resort to these processes since they clean themselves manually, but with my bio-components partially corrupted-“

Connor sniffs and pinches his nose, unaware how he seems to be bewildering Hank further.

“-my systems are relying on automatic reflexes. CyberLife did add that they m-may be on high alert for outside disturbances. S’h-?! So given how duh’hsty this area i’hiH-! is…”

Connor glimpses around the abandoned kitchen, wiggling his nose and sniffing in succession, again.

“-I suppose I’m-…I-hH‘m…-?!”

He’s intent on continuing, he really is, but he just can’t. Therefore, he swivels around out of Hank’s sight, and sneezes as quietly as possible into the bed of his palms.

“pP’SHHIi’Eew! ihH’SCH’yuU! ‘chyiieEW!”

Or not quietly at all, really. It was just so hard; especially when his nose was so relentlessly ticklish! Staving off the fit for hours probably didn’t help, but in his defense, he still wasn’t 100% sure fighting it off actually made it worse. Just…99% sure.

“ahH’Ah-! H’ahH-…! HH’ATSCH’hyieEW!”

The water soaked into his systems must be more agitating than he thought. He sniffles damply and rubs his nose on his sleeve before clearing his throat of the congestion that’s settled there. When he faces Hank again, he isn’t even aware of just how blue he’s turned, or the little curls of hair that've been freed by the exertion of his fit. He coughs into his fist.

“Excuse me. Sorry. I was saying that I’ve become highly sensitive to the changes in the environment. Like the rain and-“, he sniffs, hesitant to even utter the word, “-dust.”

The initial shock of disbelief wearing off, Hank’s expression dissolves into a smirk that teases more at one corner of his mouth than the other. “So first you catch colds and now you get allergies, too?”

Connor swallows.

“Not necessarily,” he defends.

Hank nods, still looking cheeky. “But you are sneezy.”

“A bit…yes,” Connor confirms, scrubbing at his face again. Static is still tickling his nose, and spreading an itch to the rest of his face. Is this how humans felt when they were overreacting?

“I’ll stop it next time. I’m sorry.”

He fears he may have given the wrong answer the way Hank stays silent, but ultimately, his partner must appreciate his courtesy, because his expression softens and he rises to rub Connor’s shoulder in earnest.

“Twenty more minutes and then we get you out of here. I’m starting to freeze my balls off, anyway.”

…

Twenty minutes don’t come fast enough. Thankfully they’ve managed to piece together exactly how the crime went down — from the names of the victims and their Androids, to the means of assault, the murder weapons, and the motives. The cost however was Connor’s comfort, which if not indicated by his breathy sneezing and constant shaking, was evidenced by the 44% efficiency he was operating at. He needed a charge, and maybe just a little time to shut his eyes, which were being swarmed by constant alerts. The walls of text and meaningless numbers were starting to pile up in the corners of his eyes and really impair his sight. He had attempted to blink them away as quickly as they popped up, but at some point he’d given up altogether — doing so was expending crucial battery life he couldn’t afford to spare.

And now even his balance was beginning to suffer, causing him to lean and rock whenever he inched in any direction. To keep himself steady and warm, his hands were permanently grounded to his arms, keeping him enveloped in a hug of his own making.

As he watches Hank wrap up, Connor suddenly remembers that his night was far from over. He still needed to file his case report to CyberLife, and the idea of walking all the way back to the station was no more appealing. As an Android he wasn’t afforded the luxury of catching himself a taxi since it was illegal to spend currency on himself alone. Usually Connor didn’t pay this inequality any real attention, but in his current state, he finds himself fixated on the rule. If he thought on it further, perhaps he would’ve inspired some kind of opinion; ultimately though, he knows there’s nothing he could do but accept it. Thus he turns his attention back to his current priority: Hank, who he needed to return home safely before reporting their findings to CyberLife. He’d made a promise to Sumo, after all.

He may be exhausted, but he still wasn’t ready to deem his performance a total failure just yet.

“Alright, I think we’re just about done here,” Hank sighs, looking and sounding just as relieved as Connor was. “Don’t tell the Chief but uh, based on what we found here-“

Hank peeks at Connor who meets his glance.

“-fuckers probably deserved what they got.”

Connor glimpses at the Android bodies, then that of the human victims. He shrugs, albeit reluctantly. “That is n-not a j-judgment I can m-make,” he answers.

“Sure it isn’t,” Hank sighs. “Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of here. Come on.”

Hank leads the way towards the exit, and as usual, Connor is quick to trail him like a puppy chasing its owner. He’s so close to being done and escaping this fortress of death and dust, but of course, fate can’t let him off so easily. The whole day had been work, and apparently his shift wasn’t quite over yet.

He feels it before he fully realizes what’s happening. That prickling burn in his face had returned with a vengeance, syncing with another alert that blinds his view completely.

WARNING!!! Functionality: Critically Impaired. Code: C5Y0091-53BC. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Risk Of Shut-Down: Imminent. Self-Repairs Update Ongoing. Time Remaining: 54 Hours, 26 Minutes, And 03 Seconds.

Wait, did the time remaining increase?

Connor is too preoccupied with completing his objectives to heed his system’s warnings, and thus dismisses the alarm pounding in his head. With a mighty effort he attempts to trudge forward in Hank’s wake, every step heavy and audibly creaking. His bio components slosh with rainwater, sending chills through every circuit and rendering every movement sluggish and dizzying. The pixels in his view were collecting like a storm and creating clouds of noir fuzz that eat away at his peripheral sight.

And that damn vibration in his chest and nose! It was so fucking distracting! He doesn’t need to alert Hank to his current state any more than he already has, and he definitely doesn’t need to get whisked up in another pathetic fit…but the tactics he’d used so far to abate his reflexes just weren’t providing him any hints of reprieve.

Desperate, he resorts to a new plan of action, quick to secure his nose between the pads of his thumb and forefinger. He’s seen Hank do it before, so maybe if he just…! Connor clamps down hard on the sensitive tip to try and curb the itch that’s nested there, eager to quell the phantom sensation by massaging and kneading strategically. Rain water squeaks against his grip, and the stubborn tickle has him coughing breathily against his control. Please let this work! He can stop this one! He just needs to concentrate. He just needs to try harder! He just…ne’hH’eds…t-t’hHU…!

Abandoning his cause, Connor blindly frees his hand and reaches for Hank’s shoulder. He ends up at his sleeve instead, but honestly that’s close enough given the urgency of his position. He gives the detective’s jacket a little tug, signaling for his attention.

“LieuyY’hH-!…Lieutenant-?!”

Hank peeks at Connor over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“S-Sir-! I-I’hh am…,” Connor trails off, and catching the Android’s desperate gaze, Hank pays him his full attention. The Android shuffles, blinks side to side, then flusteredly exclaims, “g-going to do ih’hIHT-!…a’hh’gain-!”

Hank blinks, and when he finally catches on, he blinks again.

“Connor,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes and gripping the Android’s hand. “You’re a damn-near indestructible supercomputer worth double my yearly salary. Are you seriously telling me you’re about to sneeze again? Like a preschooler?”

“Y-Yes-!” Connor answers seriously between hitching breaths. Hank isn’t surprised he didn’t catch his attempts at teasing, but he’s also unaware of just how mortified Connor is — how he’s feeling. “I understand I — huh-! — f-frightened-“

“I wasn’t scared.”

“-you la’aast time s’so I th’hah-! I thought I’d try to w-warn you’that’I-!”

“Fuck’s sake just shut up and get it over with!” Hank hisses.

Permission granted. To spare his commanding officer the unsightly scene, Connor twists his body and races to cover his mouth with steepled hands. He hiccups two “breaths” (a pattern Hank was beginning to pick up on) against his palms before succumbing to his nightmare.

“Hh’IPTtsSH’IEW! Aah’-! eH’SCH’hh! Iy’hh-! hah-! H’hiHH-! hHYi’DSHH’uU!”

He coughs so hard afterwards, his chest rattles and mouth leaks stale rainwater. It’s the trigger that melts Hank’s bemused expression into one of utter fear, his eyes wide and unblinking. Up until now he’d found this whole thing funny, maybe a bit quirky and unusual, but now? Now this felt serious. Dangerous, even.

“Connor!”

Hank scrambles to Connor’s side. Without seeking permission, he grabs both Connor’s wrists in his hands and forces them away from his face, revealing a tortured expression he should’ve noticed earlier. Connor looked outright uncomfortable. He looked distressed. He looked…

Really sick.

Guilt anchors Hank’s heart to the bottom of his gut, and out of some sort of paternal instinct, he holds the Android steady by pulling him into a hug.

“Connor!” He calls, but the Android is prisoner to a loop of gasping and sputtering. Pressed close together, Hank can hear the faint whistling emitting from the Android’s chest. Paired with the aggressive huffing and whimpers of sound, Connor didn’t sound too much unlike an asthmatic. Hank’s hands are becoming numb the longer they remain locked around the man’s body, and with every violent shiver, his body shakes in chorus.

Connor clutches greedy fistfuls of Hank’s jacket, relying on him entirely for support to stay upright. It’s like he’s clinging for life support, and the impression makes Hank’s own blood turn to ice.

“Connor?! Connor, son!! Are you okay?!”

To his horror, Connor blindly shakes his head. It’s the last hint to compel Hank to action. Desperate to comfort the Android further, Hank cradles a hand to the back of Connor’s head and pillows his face against his chest. The Android wiggles weakly against his grip, but Hank adamantly refuses to budge.

“Relax, kid. I used to be a dad, remember?”

He closes his eyes and traces soothing circles between Connor’s shoulder blades.

“Getting sneezed and coughed on is part of the job; maybe for detectives too. So quit your fighting and just get it over with — I’m here for you now.”

Either his words resonate convincingly enough, or Connor can’t hold out any further. Either way, the result is the same.

“HAH’DZSCHh’hiuUH! h’DTZSH’HUH! ih’KSCHH!”

Connor groans faintly from the bed of Hank’s breast pocket, barely catching another breath before he’s snapping forth again. First coughing, then flung into another sneezing fit.

“EH’DSHH’CHhui! ‘CHiiEeW! ‘SCHH’yyiuh! hHi’tshiiew!”

The last one is barely a sneeze, more like an exhale of empty, fizzled out air. Hank noticed how Connor, even in all his desperation, had refused to sneeze on him; instead letting loose at the last possible moment by pressing his forehead to his chest and aiming each burst towards the floor. Even while at the end of his rope the damn man was too polite — a wholesome and unreasonable characteristic Hank acted like he abhorred, but silently envied.

Relieved to be finished but feeling infinitely worse, Connor lifts his head slowly, already pulling out of Hank’s touch to crush the back of his wrist against his nose. He wasn’t about to look Hank in the eyes, not that he could see clearly to begin with. Errors were swarming his senses like gnats, declaring him critically defective and dangerously malfunctioning — as if he needed a reminder of the obvious.

Rocking on his heels he clutches his head in his hand and surrenders to the glitches tearing up his bio components.

WARNING!!! Functionality: Critically Impaired. Code: C5Y0091-53BC. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Risk Of Shut-Down: Imminent. WARNING!!! Functionality: Critically Impaired. Code: C5Y0091-53BC. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Risk Of Shut-Down: Imminent. WARNING!!! Malfunction. Malfunction.

Malfunction.

“I-…I’m not…”

Malfunction. Shut-Down Sequence Initiated.

N-No. He wasn’t going to shut down. It was a status he couldn’t afford, especially given his type of work, his mission, his expectations, and his model. A malfunction this spiraling…was unbefitting a rumba, let alone an RX800 Android like himself. If he couldn’t pull it together and send back a satisfying report to his creators, then…what could he expect? He’d be forced apart and aptly replaced by a new Connor model. He would be broken down; he’d be expendable once again. He’d lose his purpose. He’d lose his job! He’d lose Hank!! He didn’t want that!!!

“Connor! CONNOR!!!”

He…he didn’t…

“Hank-…I-I…don’t…f-feel…”

DING!Shut-Down Sequence Complete.

#snz #snzfic #snzblr #snz kink #d/etroit: b/ecome h/uman #co/nnor r/k800 #h/ank a/nderson

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heymrsandman · 5 months

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Wanna Try Star Trek?

Hi tumblr! I love Star Trek, as do many of you, but it can seem intimidating to folks who are interested but don’t really how to approach such a large franchise. The thing is, Trek’s “golden age” lived in that delicious sweet spot where tv shows outside of soap operas were only just starting to learn about serialisation. These shows were built for drop in, drop out viewing. So I’m gonna write some beginner friendly summary/reviews of various episodes and you can see if it strikes your fancy. If you decide to watch an episode I talk about, please, feel free to talk to me about it!

Also, I made a big spinner wheel of all the TNG/DS9/VOY/ENT episodes and I needed something to do with it.

Today’s random pick is Deep Space Nine’s “Indiscretion”, episode 5 of season 4.

So real quick, Deep Space Nine aired between 1993-1999 and was set aboard the titular space station. It’s still the only Star Trek show not to be based on a ship. The long and short of the premise is that, after a long and gruelling occupation by the Cardassian Union, the planet of Bajor wins its freedom. Having no means of defending themselves from something like this happening again, Bajor reaches out to the Federation (the post-scarcity multi species utopia that humanity is part of) for protection. They send a Starfleet detachment to administer the space station the Cardassians left behind, commanded by one Benjamin Sisko, who has to manage the delicate political situation. This show is by far the most serialised of this era, but nowhere near the extent of modern shows.

First Officer’s Note: Starfleet is an all-in-one exploratory, scientific, defense and diplomatic service, and most of the shows and movies revolve around the various adventures of Starfleet crews.

Our episode today opens with DS9’s First Officer, Major Kira Nerys, receiving a call from an old friend named Razka Karn. He tells her that he’s found a lead on a ship she’s been searching for called the Ravinok. He won’t share the information over a video call, so she’ll have to come to him.

Ship Counsellor’s Note: Kira is a Bajoran, and was previously a member of the Bajoran resistance against the Occupation. Bringing in “one of Kira’s old resistance buddies” is one of the writer’s favourite ways to start up a plot for her.

The station’s security officer Odo shows up for a scene where he’s giving Kira a security report, but her mind’s clearly elsewhere. Odo asks her what’s wrong, and Kira asks whether he thinks she should go after the Ravinok. He tells her it doesn’t matter, as he knows she’s going to go anyway, so all he’ll say is “good luck”.

Usually, there’s some hand wringing over whether or not Sisko will send one of his officers on these personal missions, but here we skip right to Kira packing for her trip, only for Sisko to give her the unpleasant news that the Cardassian government wants in on the search too. See, the Ravinok was a Cardassian ship transporting Bajoran prisoners when it was mysteriously lost.

Kira’s come a long way in her feelings towards Cardassians since the start of the show, so she does (huffily) agree to delay her departure by 52 hours to allow a Cardassian delegate to join her.

Science Officer’s Note: Bajor, and by extension DS9, has a 26 hour day. This is one of those little writerly worldbuilding details that stays consistent, and really helps sell the idea of Bajor being its own place. Take note, aspiring writers!

It’s b-plot time! Sisko has been dating a freighter captain by the name of Kasidy Yates. Jadzia Dax, the Science officer, teases Sikso that things are getting serious, which Sisko denies. Kasidy then shows up to say she’s got an interview to sign up as a freighter captain for the Bajoran government. She’d be around all the time, she could even have quarters on the station! Sisko is clearly scared by the idea, but Jadzia is having way too much fun encouraging Kasidy to care. She’s a cad.

Back at Ops (the command centre), the Cardassian delegate arrives - it’s Dukat! Dun dun dun! Ad break!

Tactical Officer’s Note: Dukat (whose first name is never confirmed in the show, but some of the novels name him Skrain) is a major recurring character on the show. Sometimes an ally, often an opponent, but never liked by the crew. He was the officer in charge of the Occupation of Bajor during its final stages, with the rank of Gul. At this point in the show, he’s recently been promoted to Legate.

On their way to rendezvous with Razka, Dukat, galaxy brained individual that he is, decides to debate Kira on the merits of the Cardassian Occupation. When Kira pushes back on this, he says “I have to desire to debate the merits of the Occupation with you”. Charming guy.

We do get Kira’s motivation here, which is that the Ravinok was transporting a prisoner by the name of Lorit Akrem. He was the man who inducted Kira into the resistance, and one of the many friends and mentors she gained during that time.

Back on the station, Kasidy is telling Sisko over dinner that she got the job and how excited she is. All he can say is “it’s a big step”, and before long Kasidy gets sick of this and storms out.

Razka’s come through though, in his new role as a scrap metal merchant. He’s gotten his hands on a piece of the Ravinok’s hull. Kira and Dukat are able to use it to track the Ravinok to the Dozaria system, which conveniently has one (1) habitable planet.

Arriving at the planet, the pair are unable to determine much more than the wreckage’s rough location and decide to land their ship and explore on foot.

Chief Engineer’s Note: Star Trek is famous for its “technobabble”, made up science-y sounding phrases designed to create and solve problems. Due to the “ionic interference”, neither scanning for lifesigns or using their transporters to beam directly to the surface are possible. Ionic interference is a favourite of the writers, great for when you want to make sure a problem can’t be solved too quickly or easily.

Sisko is busy commiserating the situation with Jadzia and the station’s Chief Medical Officer Julian Bashir. They’re no help as Julian is also having entirely too much fun with this. Quark, the owner of the local bar, which is basically a space Dave & Busters, pipes in with his own two cents. Given that Quark is a Ferengi, and Ferengi culture is so misogynistic they make your average MRA look like a feminist ally, it’s not much help.

The Ravinok is found in short order, along with a series of 13 graves. Dukat sets about identifying the remains, and refuses to let Kira help. He claims that Cardassian funeral rites are very strict, and non-Cardassians must not view the remains. Hell, he even quotes a Bajoran religious leader to justify why she shouldn’t concern herself with the bodies of her fellow Bajorans. Luckily, Bajorans all wear earrings unique to their family line, so Kira can identify the bodies from those after Dukat excavates them.

Medical Officer’s Note: they’ve landed in a scorching desert, which Dukat loves. Cardassians are lizard-like and prefer hot environments. This was a major plot point in the season 2 episode The Wire. The desert shots were filmed in Soledad Canyon, California!

A little while later, Kira emerges from the ship’s wreckage with a passenger manifest to discover Dukat lost in thought as he stares at a piece of jewellery that she identifies as a Bajoran pledge bracelet. Dukat admits that he had an ulterior motive for coming on this trip, as he hoped to find a Bajoran woman by the name of Tora Naprem. She was his mistress, and he claims that the two were in love.

Not buying that last part. Also, Dukat absolutely has a thing for Bajoran women. It keeps showing up throughout the show. He even hits on Kira every now and then.

Anyway, Kira’s able to use an old resistance trick to track the survivors.

Later that night, as they make camp in a cave, Dukat manages to get a giant stone spike impaled in his ass. The sight of him hopping around in pain as he rubs a medical doohickey of the wound prompts Kira to burst out laughing, and Dukat even joins in. It’s not really a bonding moment, but there is a certain energy to it. An abatement of hostility, perhaps.

Whatever it is, it gives Kira the courage to ask about Tora Ziyal, the name of a civilian she found on the ship’s manifest. Dukat admits the truth, Ziyal is his and Naprem’s daughter. Dukat’ sensing the Occupation was coming to an end, planned to quietly ship them off to a neutral planet to live out their lives in peace, as neither Cardassia or Bajor would accept them. Kira, naturally, assumes he’s come to rescue Ziyal. Dukat says he’s come to kill her. Dramatic music sting. Ad break.

First Officer’s Note: Bajoran names follow Eastern naming order, meaning that Kira and Tora are family names. Also, Star Trek loves doing things in caves because they can build a new set out of the same few prop walls they have. It’s a fun detail to notice as you watch these shows.

The next day, Kira & Dukat are arguing as they pick up the trail. Dukat claims that he has too many political enemies, and a bastard child, let alone a half-Bajoran one, would give them ammunition to go after him. Kira accuses him of just being out for himself, but Dukat insists that he can only protect his family if he remains in power.

Are you getting a good feel for the kind of bastard Dukat is by this point?

This is all a bit much, how about another comic relief break in the b-plot? Sisko and his son Jake are having breakfast, and Jake mentions that he (and his friend Nog) spoke to Kasidy. As Sisko’s getting ready to give Jake a talk about the hard facts of life, Jake (having talked things through with his friend Nog) correctly diagnoses the problem as a fear of commitment. Sikso’s a widow, see, and it was his career that got Jennifer killed.

Sisko is rather bemused by this, but he can’t deny that Jake’s spot on. He asks if Jake said any of this to Kasidy. Jake says that he (and his friend Nog) considered it, but ultimately decided that Sisko should speak to Kasidy himself.

But now, at long last, we find the survivors. They’ve been taken captive by a mysterious alien race called the Breen, and are being forced to mine Dilithium ore from the planet. Presumably, it’s quite easy to do, as there’s only a few dozen survivors and no signs of heavy industry. There’s a young girl there too, presumably Ziyal.

Kira tells Dukat to go back to DS9 for reinforcements. Dukat refuses, and Kira’s obviously not going to leave Dukat with a chance to kill his daughter. Instead, they decided to mount a two person raid on the mines, which goes out without a hitch.

Well, except for the fact that Lorit died two years ago and a brief firefight gives Dukat a chance to slip away and find Ziyal. She instantly guesses who he is, having held out hope for the last six years that he’d come rescue her. Kira catches up to Dukat and threatens him at gunpoint to drop his rifle.

It’s ultimately Ziyal’s words that sway him, and Dukat can’t find it within himself to mow down his own child in cold blood.

Back on DS9, Sisko apologises to Kasidy, who accepts, and Dukat says he’s going to take Ziyal back to Cardassia to live with him. Aww, maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all.

First Officer’s Note: Yes, he is.

This is a pretty great episode. It was directed by LeVar Burton, who had been a main cast member on The Next Generation, and is remembered by many as the long running host of Reading Rainbow. He did especially well with the location shoots, making the narrow Soledad Canyon look like an expansive desert. Marc Alaimo as Dukat shows yet again why the writers kept bringing him back. He’s smarmy, oozy, hypocritical, but still retains a certain charm.

Though he only gets two short scenes, Roy Brocksmith does great as Kira’s old friend Razka. He was a jobbing character actor in the 80’s-90’s and if you’ve seen American tv from that era, chances are you’ve seen him in something.

The b-plot is a needed reprieve from the heavy nature of the main plot, but smartly it’s not played for broad comedy. Instead it’s more subdued, more grounded and relatable. Luckily, Kasidy sticks around and has a sweet relationship with Sisko, built on a genuine chemistry between the two actors.

Would I recommend this as your first Star Trek episode? Conventional wisdom would say no, it’s too steeped in the lore of DS9 and the relationships of these characters, it’s the start or mid point of so many character journeys. Sod that for a game of soldiers, I say. This is a great little story, and even without context for everything you can pick up what’s going on well enough to understand the emotional stakes. That’s far more important than knowing all the lore and linking plot points.

So, what’s next? Time to spin the wheel, I guess!

Oh boy, we're doing Voyager!

#star trek #deep space nine #star trek deep space nine #ds9 #st ds9 #please share and interact!#wanna try star trek

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capnsaveahoe · 4 months

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Thoughts on TO S1/EP1

So, I finally went down the rabbit hole and decided to watch The Originals. Pray for me. 😂

Here are my thoughts:

Magical Baby Plot:

This is literally a forced loophole—thanks, but no thanks. 🙅🏻‍♀️ Klaus being lured back to NOLA with the news that Hayley is pregnant with his magical baby. Is just not the biz. While the baby plot is obviously a significant driving force for the narrative, it seems implausible that Klaus, a vampire for over 1000 years, could father a child. Fuck outta here with that shit.

Klaus:

Will forever be my baby. There's no if's, and's or but's. He's still his little villainous self, and I'm here for it. This will NEVER change.

Elijah:

This man will obviously go through hell and highwater for his brother, but he needs to know when to give up. Elijah searching for his 1000+ year old baby brother will never not be funny to me. He’s the Steve Harrington of the TVDU (fight me on it). We all know that his ass will be daggered in the next episode without fail. He obviously can't seem to comprehend that while Klaus loves his family he also sees them as a weakness, and he would rather put his bro to sleep than lose him to a dumb baby plot twist.

Rebekah:

My girl Beks is currently angry at Klaus and refuses to help Elijah find him, which in all honesty, her ire is well deserved. She's been treated like shit for ages. It was about time she stood up for herself. 👏👏👏

Marcel:

I love that they gave Klaus a long lost adopted son! Now THIS is a plot twist. He was believed to be dead and rotting somewhere, but my man is now the king of NOLA and rules the city with an iron fist who has total control over every supernatural creature within it. He’s shaping up to be my favorite out of all the new characters introduced so far. He’s also fineeeeee as fuck! 😋

Quarter Witches:

They’re okay so far, but honestly, they could have gotten pretty far if they had just let Klaus and Elijah kill Marcel/Hayley right off the bat. Instead of following a bunch of idiotic rules. It was smart of them to link Sophie and Hayley, though. It gave them leverage with The Originals, which is what they wanted. Still deciding if I like them or not.

Camille:

I’m trying to give her a chance, but it’s a feat let me tell you. I didn’t think she would break out the psychology card so quickly, tbh. I’ll look past it, for now. I can say that she does have a teeny bit of chemistry with Elijah…I really liked their 1st scene together. It looks like they'd be a good match.

Quick question: I thought Camille was still studying to become a psychologist? But, she mentions that she already has a grad degree in this episode. Can someone clear this up for me?

Davina:

Seems pretty cool. I want to learn more about her and what she can do. Let's see where they take her character. Since we all know that having strong female characters on these shows is not something that the writers really like.

Overall, given Klaus' brutal and decisive nature, it's surprising that he didn't eliminate all threats immediately to take control of the city. But, I can also see why he wouldn't as he sees the potential the city he once lived in still has. Moreover, I'm a little annoyed at Elijah during this episode. In all honesty, it's Elijah's fault that they ended up in the mess that follows. Elijah sees the baby as a way to redeem Klaus, but it feels unrealistic to force Klaus into a role he’s never desired. Klaus has always craved power, loyalty, and family, but not necessarily a baby. This dream seems more in line with Elijah’s personality, who has always exhibited gentlemanly and family-oriented behavior. Though I still love Elijah, he really irked my nerves in this first episode. I will say that I'm loving the more in-depth look into the complex sibling relationships that we didn’t get enough of on TVD. On another note, I think it would have been a good plot twist to try and lure Klaus to NOLA by using Marcel as a pawn somehow instead of a baby. You can clearly see that he still cares for him in his own twisted way. I hope we get to see more of their dynamic as the show goes on.

#the originals #klaus mikaleson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #marcel gerard #davina claire #camille o'connell #hayley marshall

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italeean · 2 years

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A good way to end a bad day

Levi is stressed after a day where every force of the universe seemed to work against him, but luckily for him, Erwin can't have that and is more than ready to do something about it

A/N: Good evening everyone!! I hope you had a great week and an even greater weekend ahead of yourselves ^_^ Thanks for waiting for my work, it really means a lot to me. As I had already anticipated, this is a request made by @oddslimee1 😸 Grazie per la richiesta, spero ti piaccia... e anche a tutti gli altri 💚🤍❤️ (Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy it... and everyone else as well)

DISCLAIMER: This is a tickle fic, if it’s not to your taste I don’t suggest you need it

To say that Levi was pissed was an understatement. And to say that his day had been one was the worst of his life was even more of an understatement!

First, he woke up extra early to finish some paperwork... that was actually due to the next day, then one of the new recruits bumped into him at breakfast, making his cup of tea fall, and one of the cadets made a scene in front of him because he'd scolded her.

He was sitting in the dining hall, eating his dinner while sulking so much that even the members of his squad decided to leave him in peace. Maybe he had really been harsh with the cadet, but crying so much? If she was that emotional, why did she even enrol in the military force? Once you're outside of the walls, you don't get a scolding if you do wrong... he knew that way too well...

"Captain, I'm sorry for disturbing but I'd need a favor." His train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a voice he knew way too well. "What do you want, brat?" He asked quickly since he wanted to get over with whatever the kid needed.

"So, I know I'm on cleaning duty tomorrow, but Hange wants to experiment something new on my Titan form and I wanted to ask for perm-" The young soldier got interrupted by a sudden squeak on the captain, accompanied by a little jump. It didn't take long for Eren to figure out why he'd done that. "Sir, are you perhaps ticklish?" He asked, with a smug, Cheshire Cat-like smile.

"Jäger, go run ten laps outside. Now." Levi's tone was so cold that everyone could swear that the temperature had dropped of a few degrees all of a sudden. "But sir, it's night... and it's raining..!" The teal-eyed guy whined; "Which is why it's in your best interest to run as fast as you can." The man's gaze was literally furious, so the young soldier decided to go and avoid any other repercussions.

After dinner, the exhausted Captain went to his quarters... only to be met with an extra pile of paperwork. He tsk-ed and went to his desk, with the only intention to finish everything as soon as possible. When he was about halfway through, he got interrupted by a knock on the door. He would've probably murdered the one who dared to show up at such a late time, but since it was Erwin, he made an exception.

"Good evening, Levi" the Commander greeted him with a warm smile "Shall I come later? You seem a bit busy..." He asked, not even trying to hide his concern for his friend. "If it's something important, I can take a quick break." The shorter man replied, ignoring every fiber of his body telling him to continue his work and go to sleep immediately.

"Well, it is rather important actually," the blond said to catch Levi's attentiok "I noticed you were in a bad mood, so I only came here to check on you. But the fact that you're still working with those dark circles under your eyes is even more concerning." He added with a stern tone. "Tsk. I'll go to bed as soon as I'm done, don't worry." The dark-haired man tried to dismiss his superior, but it didn't work at all.

"Absolutely not. That pile of documents will take at least another two hours to complete and you don't have that much time. Just go to bed and I'll ask to my superiors for an extra day to hand in everything." Erwin tried to reason with him, but he hit a wall... way more solid than Maria, Rose and Sina combined together.

But he had an idea of how to make that wall crumble, whether it would be slowly or with a single blow. He walked behind his friend, making it seem like he was just checking what kind of report he was writing, only to mimic what Eren had done at dinner that evening.

"GAH- N-not you too! Are you seriously copying that brat?!" Levi was caught by surprise once more and didn't manage to hold back his reaction, much to his dismay and Erwin's amusement. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd seen something on your neck and I just tried to brush it off." The Commander apologized, with a performance that would've won the prize for worst performance in the history of acting.

The ravenhead jumped quickly on his feet and tried to reach the door, but his friend was quick to anticipate his move and managed to beat him in speed (also thanks to his longer legs, but it's better if we don't say it out loud). He reached the captain and dragged him to bed, then he threw him on the mattress making him lie on his stomach.

"So, are you going to get some rest?" He asked while keeping a hand in the middle of the other's back to not let him get up. "I said I don't need it! Just let me finish my work!!" Levi exclaimed with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "If you still have that much energy, I'm sure this will be nothing for you to handle." Erwin grinned while spidering his free hand up and down his friend's side and ribs.

"W-whahat are you thihinking?! Arehe yohou twelve?!" Levi tried to hold back his laughter but he couldn't do anything for his legs kicking reflexively, indicating how much that gentle touch was affecting him. "I was sincerely hoping to just convince you to go to bed, but you decided to be stubborn and say no..." Erwin tried to blame it all on him, although he knew he could've simply ordered him to drop everything and go to bed. Levi's strict work ethic would've made him follow that command.

But this was way funnier, and it was too rare of an opportunity to miss.

"Juhuhuhust cuhut it ohohout alreahahadyehe!!" The shorter man squealed while trying to cover up his side, but his friend's fingers always found a way to worm through his defenses. Also, not being able to see where or when he would strike made him feel more sensitive.

"If you still have enough energy to bark like that, you're not tired enough yet." The Commander stated seriously, as if it was some kind of serious report or anything. "Yohohou're juhust sahahaying nohohonsensehe nohow!" The blue-eyed man replied once more, still keeping that hint of harshness in his voice.

"Nonsense? I think your tiredness is making you lose your sense of judgment." Erwin fake-gasped, feeling surprisingly playful that night "Also, I think you should pay attention to your tone in front of a superior." He was still kidding obviously, he never minded Levi being a bit harsh. It was just how he was, and now they weren't even technically working, they were just hanging out as friends so the militar hierarchy didn't count.

However, that "rude" tone gave him the excuse to change spot and go for the ravenhead's thighs, which he already knew they were really, really bad for him. "Juhuhust gohoho ahahawahahahay!!" Levi squawked while he struggles and kicked harder to break free.

"Oh well, why didn't you ask sooner?" Was the only thing that came out from the blond's mouth before his wiggly fingers went to softly scratch the other's scalp, exactly where his hair was shaved. That never failed to draw the best reaction out of him. "AAAAAAHAHAHA OKAHAY YOU WIHIHIN YOHOHOU WIHIN JUHUHUST STOHOHOHOP!!"

Levi's death spot was the only one that managed to get him to laugh really loud, but it also annihilated his stamina in a few seconds. The Commander knew that, and that night he'd decided to use that to his advantage. However, the Captain was really exhausted from that stunt, so much that his eyes were closing on their own.

He fell asleep while thinking of Farlan and Isabel, remembering all those times when they would playfight like that without a care in the world. They were his family after all, they were his safe space.

After checking he was actually asleep, Erwin rolled up his sleeves and sat to the Captain's desk, ready to fill some paperwork and make his friend's life just a little bit easier.

#attack on titan tickle #lee!levi #ticklish!levi #ler!erwin #ler!eren #kinda...#tickle fic #aot tickle

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justmeinadaze · 2 years

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Unattainable Part IX (Eddie X Theater Girl)

A/N: I genuinely took my time with this one. Not that I don't with the other stuff I write but lol I think I read and reread this a billion and one times.

Warnings: *holds up hands dramatically* TIS TIME! Loss of Virginity for my beautiful theater girl. Eddie is sweet and adorable (as always). Some scenes of her past memories, slight trauma triggers but nothing too dramatic.

Word Count: 3900

“Eddie! Oh my god. You should just ask for more fries!” I giggle as he reaches over to steal a fry for the second time from my basket of food.

I had been staying at the Munson residence for a couple of days now. My dad never tried to call back and my mother never came looking for me. Wayne asked if I would feel comfortable with him driving to my house to explain to her that I was safe.

“Pfft”, Eddie scoffs. “You’d be wasting your breath.”

“I wasn’t asking you, Eddie.”

I told him it was fine and when I saw him again he said that she appreciated him telling her.

“Is…is she okay?” I ask as quietly as possible so Eddie wouldn’t hear from the bedroom. Wayne removed his cap and rubbed the top of his head.

“Physically she seems to be. I can’t imagine anyone who smells like bar floor is really ok.” I look away guiltily. “Hey. Um, I think you two being away from each other is good for her. Maybe she’ll realize she needs to shape up; be a better mom.”

I respond with a tiny half smile. He’s way more optimistic about that then I’ll ever be.

Eddie insisted we still get out of the Hawkins for the day so we got in his van and made our way up north. We stopped for lunch at this diner called “Oasis” and got two baskets of burgers and fries. After inhaling his meal, he was now trying to pick at mine.

“But your fries are so much better. Ow!” He jumps as I lightly kick him under the table with my shoe. “Well shit. I’m not taking you to the arcade then.”

My eyes narrow in his direction as I reach for a fry and hold it in his direction. As he leans in to take it, I pull it away at the last second and take a bite. He sticks his tongue out me and I bunch up my nose to mock him.

A few miles up from the diner is a huge arcade with wall-to-wall games to play. When we step inside it is packed with kids ranging from elementary to about our age. In the back corner there are pool tables under clouds of smoke from the patrons that were playing. There was a bar in the middle of the room where some people were sitting and watching a football game.

“I’m going to get some change. Go find a game.” He kisses my temple before he disappears. I walk along the wall looking at the selection. I stop when I see a game I used to be familiar with; Galaga.

“Okay, baby girl, sit right here.” My dad picks me up and places me on a stool near the side of the machine. “Now watch and learn. These were the moves that got your mom to marry me.”

My mom smiles as she rolls her eyes at him. “Calm down, Danny.” She leans down near my ear and whispers loud enough so my dad can hear. “I took pity on him because he was so terrible at it.”

“Abby, stop telling our child lies.” They both laugh as he leans across me to give her a quick peck on the lips.

“Oh! Good choice.” Eddie comes up next to me, shaking his cup of quarters. “You want to go first?”

“Sure.” I plaster a smile on my face. He kneels, puts a few coins in, and hops onto the stool next to me. The music starts to play as the game comes to life. I try to focus on the ship as it targets the little alien bugs above it but I feel my brain start to wonder.

My dad glances over, catching my mother adjusting the watch on her wrist.

“Got a hot date?”

“No”, my mother replies with an edge. “I was just checking the time.”

“Why? We don’t have anywhere to be.” His eyes stay on the monitor as his fingers repeatedly smash the button on the consol.

“I do tomorrow morning. Some of us still have to work.”

Dad doesn’t say anything, choosing to focus on the task in front of him.

“You know what? I’ll go wait by the car. Come out when you’re done.” She sighs and stomps her way out the front door. There’s the faint sound of an explosion coming from the game. My dad doesn’t move. I see his head hang for few seconds before he finally turns to me with a big grin on his face.

“Come on, little one. Let’s go home.”

“Sweetheart?” I turn my head to the left to see Eddie is no longer sitting but hovering over me. “You okay?”

I furrow my eyebrows, sighing. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit rusty I guess.” I push at the game with my sneaker as I smile up at him. “You should go next. Show me how it’s done.”

As I start to step aside, I feel his arms wrap around me from behind. He gently nudges me forward with his hips, taking my hands, and placing them back on the controls. He lets go only long enough to put some more money in and move my hair to one side as he rest his chin on my shoulder. The screen in front of us lights up as the level begins. With his hands guiding mine, we start to play.

Safe. I am safe.

“I wish you would tell me where you go.” Eddie’s voice is low in my ear.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” I joke trying to distract him but I can see in the reflection of the screen in front of me that he’s not falling for it. I feel his breath heat up my skin as he sighs. The next level begins to start.

“I can’t.”

“Because?”

The game makes a congratulatory sound as a small cut scene plays.

Tell him. Let him know what he’s in for. Go ahead! Geez, you’re so pathetic! How do you expect to—

“My parents used to hang out at arcades when they were younger. They would sit me on a stool like this or another machine and I would just watch them play. After a while it was just me and dad going. Then it was just me.”

The ship crashes into a bug and explodes. Eddie pulls my hands off the controls and wraps my arms around my chest cocooning me against him. I turn my head to look at him. “I’m just happy to be able to create new memories here with you.”

He smiles down at me, placing a kiss on my forehead. “That is the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. Why are you so obsessed with me?” He rolls his eyes playfully as I lightly elbow him. Eddie pretends to fall letting go of one of my arms as he twists the other one making me twirl in a circle. “Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s go make some memories.”

########################################

After spending a few more hours at the arcade, it was time to head home. Halfway through our drive it had started pouring rain. When we got back to the trailer, we had to make a mad dash to the door.

“Jesus! It’s really coming down!” Eddie shakes his hands through his hair.

“I-I-I-I am regret-t-t-ting wearing shorts-s-s-s.” I say as my teeth begin to chatter. His head whips around and notices I’m completely soaked.

“Oh my god.” Eddie tries to control the smile that begins creeping across his face at my words.

“D-D-Don’t laugh, you jerk!” I hug my arms around myself and head towards his room. Eddie makes a quick detour into the bathroom and grabs a towel. As I sit down on the bed, he flops down beside me and runs the towel over my arms trying to warm me up.

“Better?” he asks.

“Y-Y-Yes. Thank you.” Eddie keeps chuckling at me. “Stoooop! Dork. I’m going to go shower really quick.”

####################################

As soon as I step out of the shower, there’s a loud crack of thunder followed by the lights going out.

“Whoa! Ok, babe. One second!” Eddie shouts from his room. I hear his feet shuffle around and then a light knock on the door before he opens it just enough to push his hand through. He’s holding a lit candle in his hand. I thank him as I grab it and he closes the door. Now that I can see I search the bathroom for my bag so I can put on my pajamas.

Uh oh. I do three circles before I realize I forgot it in Eddie’s room. As I reach for the doorknob so I can ask him to bring it to me something makes me freeze. I turn and look at myself in the mirror.

You are beautiful. You love him. You trust him. Go for it.

Whore.

No, I’m not. I’m not! I am safe. HE is safe with me.

With the towel wrapped around me, I grab the candle and open the door making my way to Eddie’s room. His back is to me as he lights a couple more candles and I place the one I’m holding on his dresser. He had changed while I was in the shower, putting on a simple black shirt and sweatpants.

“Hey, so I don’t think we are going to get any food delivered in this. Do you want me to try and find something or—” His sentence is cut short as he finally turns around. His jaw falls slightly open as he tries to keep forming words.

I move forward slowly towards him. “I was thinking we could try something.”

Thunder shakes the trailer causing Eddie to jump, juggling the lighter in his hands before it falls to the floor with his failed attempt to catch it. We both laugh but his comes out slightly more nervous.

“Wow. Did I just cause thee Eddie Munson to become speechless?” I cock my head to the side as the grin on my face grows.

“Yeah, well, um”, his hand flies up to rub the back of his neck. “It happens when I’m thrown off.”

“Thrown off in a good way or a bad way?” I ask trying to sound as confident as possible. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Definitely a good way, my lady.” His eyes shift between me and the floor as if he’s unsure of where to look. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little nervous.”

I’m now directly in front of him, standing so close my hair shifts with the wind of his breath near my face. “Why?”

“Well, I mean, I’m a guy. Guys get nervous and”, his eyes meet mine, “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

I reach up, placing a hand on his cheek. “You could never disappoint me.” I open my hand that’s holding the towel around me and it falls to the floor around my feet. “I trust you.”

He leans forward with his hands pulling my lips to his. As we kiss, Eddie slowly guides us back towards his bed. The back of my legs touches the cold metal of the bedframe and I let go of him to climb on the mattress. On my knees I left myself up so we’re face to face. I reach below him to take off his shirt and he raises his arms to left it over his head, tossing it casually to the floor. My hands move down his chest, brushing over every tattoo and beauty mark on his skin. My lips land on his shoulder as they make their way towards his neck. I feel his chest pressed against me exhale in as a small mewl escapes from his throat. His fingers become entangled in my hair holding me to him.

Eddie tilts his head down so he can capture my lips with his. Tilting my palm downward, I glide it down into his sweats. He whimpers slightly when my hand wraps around his already hard cock. I lean my head back so I can look at him. His eyes are closed with his mouth hung open. I watch him as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip and hums in pleasure. It’s weird for me to be able to have this effect on someone especially Eddie.

He always seemed so confident and strong. On the outside he looked like he didn’t care about anything and had everything all together. To see him come undone like this; it was wonderful.

“You look really good like this.” I whisper.

He opens his eyes to look at me. Eddie hadn’t realized I was watching his face. “Like what?”

As I scoot my body closer to his, I reach over and pull the waist band of his pants low enough to pull his cock free. Without the constriction of his sweats, I can move my hand a bit faster. His eyes start to close again as he leans his head forward to rest on my shoulder.

I press my lips to his ear. “Like this.”

“Oh my god” Eddie’s arms wrap around my waist as he abruptly pushes me flat against the bed. He lets me go and shoves his pants off the rest of the way leaving him completely naked. He starts to crawl up the length of my body stopping at my stomach. I watch him as he runs his tongue from my belly button up to my chest between my breasts. With his right hand he reaches up to run his fingers of my nipple causing a small whimper to fall from my lips. I run my hand through his wavy mane as he takes my other nipple into his mouth sucking on it delicately.

His soft lips gradually make their way up to my neck. He pulls back to look down at me affectionately as his hand comes up to caress my cheek.

“Have you done this before?” Eddie asks, his voice laced with nothing but compassion and care.

“This exactly, no.” My voice comes out a bit shakier than I wanted it to. “Have you?” I’m not sure why I asked. I already knew the answer and he confirms it with a nod.

“Does that bother you?”

“No. Makes me feel a little better, like you know what to do. I just, um, I may not be any good at first.” Eddie tilts his head to the side with an amused smile as his hand slides down to my tummy. “I just mean *I* don’t know what I’m doing.” His smile turns into a big grin as I feel my face flush with embarrassment. He grips my leg closest to him and pulls it over his hip as he runs his hand along my calf up to my thigh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m nervous to.”

I swallow down a moan at the familiar feeling of his fingers opening my folds as he rubs his middle finger between them. His mouth gradually leans down to meet mine quickly before making their way down my jawline.

“I got you, ok?” I feel his finger invade my entrance causing me to groan and turn my head into his voice. I wanted, needed to hear more of him. “I’m going to take care of you. You don’t have to be nervous or scared. You’re safe with me.” He turns his head slightly and leans up on his elbow to look at me again. His eyes meet mine as he slides a second finger into me pumping them in and out at a slow pace.

“Eddie” I moan as I claw at the sheets trying to control that need to grab his wrist. He notices and smiles to himself. My leg drops from around him as he moves down the bed, situating his upper body between my legs. He pulls both my legs up over his shoulders and then reaches on either side of me to grab my hands and places them in his hair. He gives me a wink before his face disappears and I feel his tongue flick at my clit.

I gasp out his name excitedly as I tug at his hair. Crafty bastard. He knew I could grab and claw at his head and hair and it only push him further into me. He definitely didn’t mind it either. With every light pull of his hair he hummed against me making me squirm. Eddie inserted his two fingers back inside of me while his tongue continued its assault. The coil in my belly snapped and his hand flew up quickly to hold my hips as he licked and suckled me through it.

“Eddie…I…stop…need a minute.” I said between pants trying to catch my breath. I felt him get up and watch him through hooded eyes as he rummages through his dresser drawer, coming back with a condom. He tore the foil with his teeth and tossed it on the floor causing me to let out a breathy giggle.

“What?” he asked as he looked down at me from the side of the bed.

“Nothing. It’s just”, I point near his bed side table, “there’s a trashcan right there.”

He lazily reaches his hand towards it before dropping it back to his side shaking his head. “Eh. Too far.”

I laugh at him then and continue to watch his slide on the condom in his hand. He gently hops back on the bed and lays down on top of me. His head bends down to kiss the edge of my nose.

“I love your laugh. It’s so beautiful.”

I reach up with my hand and brush the crazy strands of hair that fell out of his face. “I love you.”

Eddie reaches his hand down to grab his cock and guide it toward my pussy. My stomach starts doing little nervous slips and I, a bit too quickly, wrap my hands around his shoulders. He places a delicate kiss on my lips before he whispers “I love you to. Are you ok?”

I let out a timid chuckle. “You know you ask me that a lot.”

A gigantic smile spread across his face. “You’re right. I should stop caring.” He slowly pushes himself into me.

We both let moan but mine comes out a little sharper. He starts making slow forward and back motions with his hips inching his way further in. During one particular movement, my brows furrow together as I let out hiss. Eddie immediately stops moving, eyes flying up to meet mine with concern.

“It’s ok. I’m ok. It just hurt a little bit. Please don’t stop.” I crane my neck to reach his lips as he resumes his original pace.

“Oh wow”, I exhale when I feel him fully sheathed inside of me. Eddie’s forehead had been leaning against my own. His eyes were squeezed shut trying to control his body as best he could.

“Good wow or bad wow?” he breathed out, wetting his lips.

“Good wow. I think”, I roll my hips slightly causing Eddie to growl. “I think you can move a little faster.”

With that his own hips start to thrust at a confident pace. I felt my eyes roll back as I whimpered his name. His head lulled forward and I could feel him breathing heavily into my neck. I positioned my arms around his neck pulling him as close to me as I could. Eddie reached down to grab my leg and wrap it around his waist.

“Hey.” I whispered in his ear. “Babe.” He grunted in response. “Look at me, Eddie.” His head lifted, his eyes meeting mine. “I know you like watching me cum.” I smiled up at him. His pace slowed as he thrust into me harder. I watched him as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them, before reaching down to rub fast circles on my clit. My pussy started clenching around him and we both exclaimed at the same time.

“Fuck!”

“Fucking hell!”

My back arched as I felt that familiar coil snap. Eddie started groaning above me as his hips began to sputter. I opened my eyes as he closed his and with a few more aggressive thrusts he came into the condom.

His hair had fallen around his face slightly blocking my view of him. His gorgeous brown eyes met mine as I moved his ruffled fluff out of his face.

“I wasn’t lying you know. You really do look good like this.” He smirked at me as he carefully pulled himself out of me, taking off the condom, and throwing it in the trash. I let out a fake gasp. “Did you just throw something in the trash?”

He glared at me playfully as rolled back over on his side to face me. I slid closer to him as he slung his arm over my waist. We laid like that for a while with Eddie’s hand rubbing up and down my back and arm. As peaceful as it was, his silence made me a little nervous.

“You okay?”

He tries to contain his smile as he mimics my voice. “You ask me that a lot.” Giggling at his impression, I lightly push at his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m good. Better than I’ve been in a while.” He props himself up on his elbow. “I know this was a big step for you. I, um, not many people trust me. Usually they see this mean, scary dude and…” Eddie’s voice starts to trail off. “What I’m trying to say is thank you for trusting a freak like me.”

I prop up on my own elbow as I reach over with my other hand to lift his chin. “I don’t think you’re a freak. I never have.”

As Eddie leans in to give me a kiss, the lights in the trailer spring on. “Well, shit.” He dramatically rolls off the bed onto the floor making me laugh. “I know I had pants at one point.” He starts sifting through the pile on the floor. I lean over the bed where I knew he had left his boxers and throw them at his chest. “Oof. Why thank you, my Lady.” He saunters into the kitchen and I hear him shuffle around before he comes back, flicking off switches along his path. He casually tosses a pizza box on the bed and walks towards the bed side table, setting some drinks. He looks around the floor again and bends down to grab one of his shirts before tossing it at me.

I beam at him as I shove it over my head. “Thank you, my knight in shining armor.”

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn smut #fan fiction

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coldshrugs · 8 months

Text

longing's favorite season 🔹 part two

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau rating: explicit word count: 2.5k additional entries: prologue 🔹 part 1 🔹 stable scene 🔹

Estinien's head swims with ale as they step off the swaying lift. It groans behind them, relieved of their weight, and begins its descent to the lower floors of the Congregation.

"Onward then?" His guest gives him a sly look. There is a suggestion—no, they left the realm of suggestion on their barstools in the Forgotten Knight—there is an invitation in his voice as he puts his hands on Estinien's chest and moves him backward, against a wooden support beam.

What was his name? V-something.

He drops a hand to Estinien's groin and cups him. He's rough. Estinien's head meets the wall behind him, and he barely gives a fuck what his name is. Gods, it's been a long time since he's felt a touch like this. "And upward, hm?"

Estinien licks his lips, takes the hands roaming his body and spins the man whose name he swears he knows so that he is the one against the wall. Estinien pins his wrists over his head and the stranger's hips shoot forward, grazing his. It feels like a lifetime since another's arousal has pressed against him so blatantly, the bloodrush of need held right to the place his own should be, and all he can manage is a growing knot in the pit of his stomach.

This is new... Inadequacy where desire should be. And still, he's come this far. He wills his body to react, to stiffen. To show some physical sign of his intentions.

He can want this.

"Quiet. My quarters are at the end of the hallway."

He nods through the low light, looking up at Estinien with dark, dilated eyes and pretty, expectant lips (it is then another set of lips flash in his mind–more full, more beautiful than the ones in front of him—too fast to place them, but the uncommon urge to graze them with his own lips floods his senses…). All of him is pretty, really. His short pointed ears, giving away more than a passing trace of Hyur ancestry. His ocher skin dusted with little moles. The thick, dark lashes that frame his eyes in a way that is almost familiar...

A stray spark catches and there is hope of a fire yet. Yes, he wants this.

Estinien releases him and leads him down the dark corridor, fumbling with the key when they reach his door.

His pretty companion clicks his tongue. "If we manage to get inside, I hope you're more accurate in bed, Ser," he slurs, bending over to watch Estinien work the lock. The key finds its home and the lock clicks open. His grin spreads in slow triumph. "Lucky me. Looks like I'll find out after all."

They stumble inside and Estinien shoves the door closed. Some middling recruit has seen to his hearth and a few lanterns around the room. Everything else is how he left it: orderly, simple, comfortable enough for him and Cat, who must be prowling the tower halls.

The only abnormality in this scene is the ambitious seducer undressing by his bed, and even that was not so strange a year ago. Then, he often sought release, from pain, or anger, or grief, in the bodies of others. It was easy to lose himself in them for a few hours, and easier to bid them farewell. But tonight, he is… off.

Too much drink, perhaps.

"Remind me," Estinien says quietly. He strides slowly across the room as his guest removes his pants with a sensual twist of his hips. Estinien's eyes hang on his erection, so very aware of his own lack. "Your name is...?"

"Victorien Riemort," he smiles, freeing long, sand-colored hair. Hm. "I serve House Durendaire as a retainer. You may call me Vic, if it's easier to remember."

Victorien moves in front of him, skin glowing orange-gold in the firelight. He casts his eyes down, making quick work of the buttons on Estinien's shirt, and Estinien admires his lashes from this angle too.

"Vic," Estinien repeats, testing how it might stick in his mind. His eyes close. Firm hands explore his exposed chest, groping, admiring, and he swallows a coarse moan as his shirt falls to the floor.

Fingertips ghost across his left shoulder and Estinien sucks in a breath. Besides his chirurgeon, no one has touched the craters Nidhogg's eyes left in his skin. He wills himself not to flinch, to stay. Tells himself the violent, florid scars are not so different than any other wound earned during the Dragonsong War. He is not monstrous, or bizarre.

Just a man with a history more visible than most.

Vic offers no further touch to that particular expanse of skin, and the heat of his fingertips leaves entirely.

Estinien opens his eyes to find him looking at the scar. Not quite grimacing, more worried than that. Pitying, almost.

"Does it still hurt?" he asks, voice free of the flirtatious wit he's used all evening.

"No." He lifts Victorien's hand and places it on his chest. Somewhere neutral, where only the memories of common scrapes and cuts live. "Pay it no mind. And please, stop talking."

"If you say so." Vic slides both arms around his neck and presses his body close, closer. His mouth, set in a temptingly crooked smile, tilts toward Estinien's. He wanted to put his lips on something, on someone, did he not?

He turns his face away.

"Ah," Vic says, "one of those."

His head falls against Estinien's shoulder—the unmarred one—and the flicker of familiarity he felt in the corridor rushes back. Evening air and cold, wet stone. The dreary sky above him, and Io... Io in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her warmth washing over him as his arms wind under her cloak–around the body in front of him. There is heat on his neck, real heat.

Victorien.

His lips pass over sensitive skin, clumsy in their eagerness. Estinien steps out of his memory and back to the present, to the hand wandering down his chest, his stomach, into his trousers. Victorien does not delay, his stroke is immediate, urging Estinien to rise and meet him.

He lifts his lips to Estinien's ear. "It will not do for me to have the Azure Dragoon without his lance at the ready. If my hand does not please you, would you prefer my mouth?" His tongue slides up the blade of his ear, making his point clear as crystal.

If Io had turned her lips toward his neck, would they brush in the same way? Is he allowed to wonder? Her mouth is the one his addled mind seems set on conjuring, after all. His friend and comrade.

She knows him easily.

She knows him best.

How would she touch him? How would she want to be touched? Pieces of an image form in his mind, and another spark catches.

"Aye." Estinien's chest shakes as he reaches between them and unlaces his pants. Vic takes his wrist and leads him to the bed.

The mattress edge dips and he spreads his legs so Vic fits between them, on his knees.

Now is when he chooses to slow, to touch him with careful hands. His breath is hot as he closes in. Estinien closes his eyes and lets his head roll back. His hand settles on the nape of Victorien's neck, and if this someone who is not Io can manage to let him pretend, he can see this through.

He can appreciate the searing heat of another's tongue gliding over his most sensitive places, and soft lips moving to a rhythm that beckons his hips to follow. It doesn't have to be the pretty stranger he met in the tavern. It could be...

"Halone's fucking tits, you really are something when you relax." Vic's laugh rings high and clear in the space of his chamber, ruining any hope Estinien had of enjoying this facade. And this is the foolish beginning.

He looks down, and Victorien is gazing up at him, holding uncomfortably fond eye contact as he puts his hand, and then his mouth, back to work.

His eyes.

Estinien thought his eyes were darker... Not that he'd sought any certain feature, but lately, he's found himself inexplicably drawn to a specific shade of midnight. In the tavern, out on the street, and in the dark of the hallway, Victorien's eyes looked nearly black. Estinien was less sober in the tavern. Perhaps he saw what he wanted to see.

Here, in the lantern light, his head is clear, and Victorien's eyes, even blown wide with lust, are a bright, clear blue.

What he couldn't explain to himself before, what he has been failing to fight all night, what he already knows he wants… it washes over him all at once.

"Leave me," he says, "now." The words carry no threat, but the gravel in his voice does not invite debate.

Victorien's too-light eyes widen, and there is a small satisfaction in seeing him thrown off, but he ceases his task and sits back on his heels.

"You know," he begins, mouth held in a long, tight line and using Estinien's legs as leverage to stand straight. "You are not good at wearing a mask. A helmet, maybe, but not a mask."

He snatches his clothes from the floor and tosses them next to Estinien, redressing at his leisure. Estinien rolls his eyes and falls backward on the bed, half-dressed, half-hard, and willing this unfamiliar man to make haste as he stares at the ceiling.

But he must admit some curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"I was in front of you all night—my mistake, really, Ser Varlineau, and your loss—but you were looking at someone else. Looking for someone else. Your business is your own, but if the real thing enthralls you half as much as the shade you hoped to find in me, well... I only hope you let them know."

Estinien's brow pinches. What is there to tell?

Victorien becomes a barrage of sound and movement, his annoyance heightened by Estinien's skyward gaze—or so he assumes. Alberic and Aymeric tell him he is 'avoidant,' but most find him inordinately direct. Vic wrangles his boots on loudly, shaking the bed, and Estinien wishes either of them were anywhere else. When he has finished dressing, Victorien blazes a path for the chamber door, ensuring he is heard as he leaves. Estinien smirks as the door slams behind him—a small price to pay for the ire he stoked.

He is alone.

The fire crackles and pops, but all else is still. He fills his lungs, deeply, slowly, until tonight's humiliation begins to burn away. One thought rises to take its place:

A week or so ago. He is standing in the Jeweled Crozier, looking up at Io Laithe. The sun is in her squinting eyes as she turns to him, already smiling, and he doesn't dare move. Her breath hangs in the air around her, a hazy frame, and his own is stuck in his lungs. Had he truly missed her so much? Had he always been a parched field, and when did she become rain?

It occurs to him there are parts of himself still untouched, pieces unknown to even him. He met Io while consumed by vengeance, so singleminded that he hardly noticed how his edges smooth when she is near. But now...

For a moment, the news Aymeric had so casually delivered was untrue. How could he believe it, when for one frozen, flawless second, the whole of the star condenses to them on the stairs? His awareness shrinks to the space between them, where his sudden solace echoes from himself to her, and back. Io is just as relieved to see him.

Years of rigorous training, honing his body and steeling his mind for every eventuality, and none of it left Estinien prepared for this. For the sun in her eyes.

And now he must endure her bond to another—a backbreaking demand when he has refused to even think of it. Prayer has never suited him but, in his way, this denial is a small, selfish plea, to Halone who seems to favor him, to Nymeia who has ever scorned him, to whichever deity might hear it and reverse this wrongness—

But this is her reality, and his.

He will accept it. When next he sees her, he will ask about her husband, a man he should like. He will ask about her life here. He will use her stupid fucking formal address if he must.

In the meantime, he closes his eyes and she is here.

Io's earnest beauty is matched by no one he's ever known—every inch of her dark and inviting, and her eyes most of all. In his mind's eye, she fits seamlessly among his things, few as they are, and makes herself comfortable in his space. She turns her gaze to him, on display at the edge of his bed. Fantasy and reality blend.

What would not budge for Victorien's very real touch, stirs impatiently at the simple thought of Io.

Estinien shivers as his fingertips drift across his ribs, down his belly, and lower... until he brushes himself. He will finish what he started, what he longed for but could not admit. Light at first, matching how he thinks Io might test the feel of him, his reaction to her touch, and he does not bother to stifle the groan.

He sees her hands moving over his skin, her body moving against his. His hand tangles in his quilt as his own touch intensifies and pictures her graceful, needy. Guiding his hands to the places she wants to be touched. The choked little moans when she discovers a way to be closer, to take him deeper, to have more of him, as if he is not already hers entirely.

His stroke grows erratic, as does the touch he envisions. His hand (her hips) moving with furious determination, one goal in mind. His chest heaves.

His end is within reach.

The image shifts and he wonders at the taste of her skin. Salt and sweetness as his mouth roams her back, her belly, lingers at the slick center of her thighs. Imagines bringing her to the peak of bliss, her body trembling against his tongue. And when he crawls up to face her, she is smiling (as she was on those stairs) before her lips collide with his, softly, suddenly, and he would not turn away.

Estinien shatters, and so does the illusion he can painlessly bear this.

With a ragged gasp, he rises on an elbow, unconcerned with his mess; the vision of Io clings to his senses, and he is not yet ready to push it from his mind. He holds it for as long as he can, eyes squeezed shut as he laments what he will never have, what he cannot touch.

He rises to clean himself and dress for bed, and attempts to slot Io—her smile, her freckle-scattered skin, her soft voice, and her eyes—back into the realm of friendship. She fits as he remembers. She occupies some new space as well.

He will figure it out later.

Tomorrow he will make for Fortemps Manor. He promised her an adventure.

#azia writes #longing's favorite season #ffxiv #io/estinien #misery au #🤡 CLOWN BEHAVIOR HERE 🤡#sorry to make him obsessed with her in every universe it's just that he thinks she's wonderful all the time

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hlizr50 · 2 years

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Merry Christmas to my @acotargiftexchange recipient, @velidewrites!! I know I sent a message already, but I was too excited to wait to post.

I hope you love this Princess Bride-inspired oneshot, featuring Jurian and Vassa :)

Read on AO3

How could someone care if she were the most beautiful woman in the world or not? What difference could it have made if you were only the third most beautiful? Or the sixth? Vassa, of course, would never dream of being ranked so highly. Not because she didn’t think she was beautiful; quite the contrary. The human queen with unblemished caramel skin and silken mane of fire knew the mirror held the reflection of a woman that would be the envy of many. It was her curse, the shackles that bound her to the death god Koschei, that knocked her down a peg or two.

So what she liked to do, preferred above all else really, was to taunt the general.

The general did what she told him. Actually, Jurian wasn’t much of a general any longer, at least at that point in time. Not after he had betrayed the fae female he’d claimed to love, had been tortured and destroyed, imprisoned in Amarantha’s ring, and then resurrected and pieced back together. But she referred to him that way still. “General, fetch me this”; “Prepare my horse, General, and make it quick. I wish to ride before the weather turns dour.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

That was all he ever answered. At least at first.

Fetch that, General. “Yes, my Queen.” Dry this, General. “Yes, my Queen.”

He’d become a bit snippity as they kept closer quarters. Of course, he would always relent, his gritted, “yes, my Queen” sometimes bitter or biting on his tongue.

As was the case currently.

“General, I think we need more wood for the fireplace in the evenings,” Vassa crooned, her ocean eyes flaring. The general had raised an eyebrow, unamused as the golden glow of fae lights cast shadows over his sullen brown eyes. Always so morose. So brooding. The queen would never admit it, but she enjoyed these evenings. When Jurian argued with her as if she were nothing more than a typical human. Not a queen. Not a woman cursed.

The general’s gaze dragged down the length of her reclined form, and she could feel it as if it were the caress of his battle-roughened fingertips. When he locked eyes with her again his stare was steely and assessing. “The weather is so warm that you cannot stand to wear more than a frilly little nightdress that leaves nearly nothing to the imagination.” Her cheeks reddened, heat flooding her face with the realization that his languid looks had served to peruse her frame and how meagerly she had covered herself in the warmth of the spring night. Jurian added, “My Queen.” Vassa’s eyes narrowed, the reverent title at odds with his observation of her body and how little of it was covered.

But, of course, two could play at this game.

“I do so love the comfort of a crackling fire. As your queen, as you always say, I would imagine you would prefer to satisfy my wants.” Her clear blue eyes took him in, her intense gaze traveling down his well-built form in an imitation of his own perusal. “And I do so enjoy watching you work.” The human queen smirked, satisfied with her own argument. And she was even more pleased when his lips quirked to one side in a half grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

None of his smiles ever did.

“Yes, my Queen.” Jurian dipped his chin.

And so the following afternoon, in the heat of the day, Vassa found herself perched upon a branch, watching intently as the general’s muscles rippled with every stroke of his ax. Anyone who would have come upon the scene might have been confused to find a majestic bird swathed in fiery feathers lazily observing something that many would consider mundane.

But the general, being so arrogant and self-appreciative, had made nothing less than a spectacle of tormentingly slowly lifting his tunic over his head, revealing his lean, muscled form. And as he chopped the quite unnecessary wood, sweat glistened over his tan skin, droplets following the wending pale scars that painted his body with the constant reminder of his torturous life, death, and rebirth.

Jurian had never shared anything about his ordeal, instead choosing to keep himself so tightly wound and protected that he was likely to explode at any moment. More and more, recently, he had done just that, protesting anything from a simple question about the weather to the strategies being taken by the fae to address the death god that held her leash. Vassa had never broached the subject of his scars, both physical and mental, because as little tolerance she had for brooding, petulant bullshit, she did not have the courage to pry into that heavily shielded part of him.

Perhaps, if he knew just how beautiful she found him - scars and all - it would be different. But, then again, he did know, for if he didn’t would he make such a show of pouring water over his head and down his sculpted chest and chiseled stomach? Would he be so deliberate about rolling the sleeves of his tunic up those corded forearms when he prepared a meal or washed the dishes after, all purposely within her line of sight, if he thought she would not find him attractive?

Flaring her wings only slightly she tilted her head, considering the general in a different light. Did he think that the pleasure of viewing his body was all that she wanted? There had been times, she recalled, when she thought the coldness of his chocolate stare had melted into something more like passion or desire. But Jurian had never acted upon it, and the icy calculation and indifference had hardened his gaze in the very next moment.

Perhaps it was he who did not desire her.

“Am I ruffling your feathers, my Queen?” His voice was like honey as it floated across the clearing, thick and decadent. He’d turned to face her, a dark brow arching in conceited amusement.

The pompous ass.

Vassa squawked and spread her wings, hoping her message was clear as she narrowed her beady eyes on him.

‘I have half a mind to peck out those eyes of yours, general.’

But Jurian just huffed and returned to the task she had assigned.

~~~

“Jurian!”

Her legs were wobbling, and she couldn’t be sure if it was because she had been wretched from the feathers and wings that had usually contained her during the daylight hours, or if it was because there were so many dead, and she feared that the general - her general - would be one of them. She called his name again, voice cracking.

The battle had lasted days, and through it all Vassa had been powerless to assist. Koschei had tightened his leash and forced her into the form of the firebird, taking no chances that she might be able to fight alongside his enemy. She had flown over the killing fields, over and over, desperate to keep a watchful eye on the human general that fought with the skill and fervor that rivaled his fae companions.

But she had eventually lost sight of him, and had not been able to find him since. Now that she was human again - fully and permanently, she dared to hope - she could only see what was in front of her, and could only go as far and as fast as two legs could manage.

Gods, what if he was dead? What would she do then?

Not for the first time, she cursed herself for not making it more clear, for not telling Jurian what was in her heart. She prayed he understood how much she cared for him, that the agony simmering in his gaze when he realized that she had not transformed back into a human woman that first night was because he cared for her, too.

“Jurian!” she called again, desperately. Vassa was only vaguely aware of the hot tears trailing down her golden cheeks. She had attributed the burning in her eyes to the death that hung heavy in the air and permeated everything around her. Her feet felt clunky and unsure as she tried to carve a path through the battlefield, in the direction she thought the main camp would be. But she couldn’t be sure, not since she could no longer take to the sky and survey the landscape. Her blurring sight fell upon the men and males, women and females, left standing around her. She recognized none of them.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, shoulders sagging. The hope that had filled her chest when she’d become human again had dwindled. What good was being free if her general was gone?

Heart cracking, she buried her face in her hands and wept. Tears for the future she’d hoped to give him, for the smiles she’d so desired to see in his eyes, finally. Tears for the broken man who had never been given the opportunity to mend. She didn’t know how long she stood there, shoulders heaving and legs quaking, when she felt the caress of roughened fingers over her temples and into her hair.

Slowly she lifted her head from her hands, and those callouses dragged back down to cup her damp cheeks. And when her wet lashes lifted her gaze was met with one that was devastating and dark and glistening.

“My Queen.”

Vassa’s lungs seized, her shuddering exhale fading to silence as her eyes darted over the handsome face before her. That same hard chin and sharp jaw, proud and stern. Those chocolate brown eyes, their attention focused and intent. Blood splattered his cheeks like freckles and rich, dark strands fell in front of his eyes as they escaped from the leather tie at his nape.

It was him.

“Jurian?” she rasped, unsure if she had enough breath to speak. The general pushed tendrils of copper away from her face as his lips curled up and he dipped his chin.

“Yes, my Queen.” His grin widened, and she watched in wonder as the warmth of it brightened his eyes. For the first time it felt true. Real. As he held her and his gaze flicked to her mouth before returning to connect with her.

And then she was consumed by him.

Jurian crushed his lips against hers, speaking words that neither of them had been daring enough to say in the days and weeks and months leading to this moment. His kiss was the fiercest flame she’d ever felt, the softness of his lips at odds with the way they demanded more and more and more from her. Vassa’s hands slid up the front of his leathers, his muscles unyielding as stone beneath her touch as they trailed up until she could curl her fingers into the hair at his nape. All the while he stole her fear and desperation with his kiss, his tongue parting the seam of her mouth and finding hers in a tantalizing dance.

When the general pulled away he was breathing hard, shoulders heaving. Vassa was much the same, her wide-eyed stare pinned on the devastating man before her.

“I should have told you. Before the battle, before Koschei bound you completely. Before all of this. So I will tell you now that I love you, Vassa.”

Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest, and she nearly choked on her words. “You… love me?” Jurian huffed a laugh.

“I’ve been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn’t listen,” he murmured, and her brows furrowed in confusion. His smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, so full and bright, warm and genuine. “Every time you said ‘General do this’ you thought I was answering ‘yes, my Queen’, but that’s only because you were hearing wrong. ‘I love you’ was what it was, but you never heard.” With a tiny gasp Vassa pulled back.

“But you… you never seemed happy. You were never content with my company,” she sputtered. “You were downright unpleasant! A regular piece of shit half the time!” She bristled at his breathy chuckle, as if he had any right to be exasperated with her.

“I have stayed in that estate because of you. I made my body strong so I could defend you, so it might please you, scarred and marked as it may be. I have attempted to live, a broken and ruined man, simply because your presence has made life something worth living. The very sight of you makes my heart race. You are my prayer before I go to sleep, you consume every dream, and you are my first thought when I wake in the morning.”

Her own heart was racing, thudding against her ribs as Jurian poured himself out to her. Laid himself bare. Her lips parted, but she could not form words. He smiled tenderly, stroking battle-roughened fingertips over the freckles that dotted her cheeks.

“How could I admit such things to you? You are a queen, a veritable goddess. Your beauty rivals the fairest of the fae. Your fortitude puts the bravest of warriors to shame. Your mouth is so witty and foul and fucking perfect, and I would gladly be torn to shreds by words falling from those pretty lips every hour of every day, so long as it’s me that you’re verbally abusing.”

The queen laughed, her head falling back. But he pulled her back and kissed her again, resting his brow against hers. Breaths mingling, they stood in silence, reveling in each other. They were alive. They loved each other. There could be that future, full of arguments and menial tasks and smiling eyes.

“General,” Vassa whispered thickly, “take me home.”

Jurian did not hesitate for a single instant, sweeping her up in his arms as she gasped. The general dipped his chin and captured her lips, his kiss lingering as if he could hardly bear to pull away. And then he spoke his oath once more.

“Yes, my Queen.”

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