#tow captain exchange

[rosepuding]

Packing | Sawamura Daichi

TW: Suggestive, Volleyball Idiots

WC: 1k

"Daiiiiiiiiichi," a voice calls to the captain from the other side of the club room. Tanaka had a magazine propped up in his lap and let out another groan upon reading the article yet again. "If I got an article like this I'd get so many girls," He continues in a whining tone.

"If you're so upset about it stop reading," Daichi strips the sweaty shirt off of his toned chest before throwing it into Tanaka's face. Daichi snags the magazine and skims the article.

Another groan emits from Tanaka's lips as he peels off Daichi's sticky shirt from his face. "You already have a girlfriend so you don't understand my woes."

A corner of Daichi's mouth tugs upwards. How could it not? It had barely been a month since you two started dating, yet he was certain of one thing, he was madly in love with you. Not only that, but he no longer had to deal with the so called 'woes' that Tanaka has to deal with.

Daichi feels a finger poke his cheek lightly. "Look! He's blushing," Suga coos. Daichi rolls his eyes and shoves his hand away.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am-"

"That is not the issue at hand!" Tanaka bursts in between the two, wanting all the the attention to fall back to him. "This is unfair! He has an entire article about him. Think about all the chicks he's getting! And you just know he's packing too."

A few hums of agreement sound around the club room while Daichi's eyebrows knit together. "He's what?"

"Packing," Tanaka says again, slower this time. Daichi only tilts his head, showing his confusion further. "You know," Tanaka gestures to the lower half of Daichi.

"No, I don't," He sighs and grabs another shirt from his bag, throwing it over his head. "I don't understand your strange second-year terminology."

"C'mon Daichi, even I know what that means," Asahi peeps up.

"Then what does it mean?"

"Lets just say-" Noya starts, "-we all think you're packing too."

The room erupts into laughter while Daichi looks between everyone in confusion. "Maybe we should ask {l/n}?" Suga snickers and slings his bag over his shoulder.

"I think I saw her outside waiting for Daichi on my way in."

Suga and Daichi exchange glances, just before Suga bursts out the door, the rest of Karasuno shortly in tow with catcalls and hollars.

"{l/n}!" Suga calls while racing down the steps towards you.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder how the team functions off of seemingly a singular brain cell. The rest of the boys gather around you, with your boyfriend nowhere in sight.

"We have a question," Noya starts.

You sighs. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Ever since you got together with their captain, occurrences, where they would ask you questions about your relationship or about Daichi in general, were normal. You weren't sure if it was because of their strange obsession with each other or the nearly cult-like dynamic the team held.

"What is it?"

The second years and Sugawara giggle between themselves, "{Y/N}, is Daichi packing?"

Your jaw pops open at his question. The audacity of these boys to ask you about something so vulgar. You take a quick moment to say thank you to any higher being who brought you to Daichi instead of these imbeciles.

Daichi comes up beside you and slings an arm around your waist to pull you into his side. You throw a mildly annoyed look at his team, before meeting the eyes of your handsome man. "Hi baby," you send him a cheeky smile.

Daichi glances between you and the team, specifically their looks of mischievous anticipation. "Did they ask you about the packing thing?" That his team them over the edge, as each of them, save for Tsukishima who did not find any humor in all of this.

"Why're they asking me?"

"I'm not sure, I don't even know what it means."

Of course he doesn't. "Why are you asking me?" You turn to the team.

"Well, we all think Daichi's packing, we thought you may be the only one to know."

You scoff. The lack of boundaries these boys had was unbelievable. Seriously, Daichi had only introduced you to them last week. However, a smirk curves onto your lips. "I'm not sure actually," You cock your head to the side, "I suppose though, for the sake of scientific research, we should go on and find out."

You grab the sleeve of Daichi's jacket and practically drag him away from his team, leaving all of them gob smacked behind you, save for Suga, who continued to cat call you until you were out of earshot.

"What was that all about?"

You don't answer, but instead, continue to walk towards your house which thankfully, was only a short ways away from the school.

Daichi and you finally reach your door where you open it and beckon him inside. Closing it, Daichi turns to you, "Is someone going to tell me what packing means?"

You had lost a bit of your confidence now it was just the two of you in your home. Alone. "Can't you just google it or something?"

"I could-" He grabs your hand and twirls you around, making you place your hands onto his chest for stability, "-but that's not nearly as fun." He peers down at you with the same dark brown eyes that make you swoon every time you look into them. He leans down and captures your lips in his for a quick kiss, he tastes like rosemary and comfort. "Plus, this is making you sassy, but flustered, and you're cute when you're flustered."

You bury your face into his toned chest and emit a groan as he wraps his free hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Fine," You say after a few moments."Packing means you have a huge dick," You say very quickly before breaking away from him and running through your house squealing.

Daichi throws his head back with laugher while racing after you until he grabs your waist and pulls you against his chest, his cheek against yours with an adoring smile on his face.

"You're too cute {y/n}," He says while pressing kisses from your cheek down to your collarbone.

"Daichi," You whine and shove his head away.

"I am you know," He murmurs against your neck.

"You're what?"

"I think you already know."

[sunflower1experiment]

Jimmy x Reader

Pre crash anyway

Tw// slight nsfw?, thighs, Jimmy, harassment, cursing

in this it's simply you doing his hair while he rests between your legs.

It was quiet, your hands massage Jimmy's hair while water spills past him onto the tub, he was antsy at first. Why are you wasting time? To which you roll your eyes with a quick remark. "Keep acting a fool and your chair stays a mess and greasy. Jeez."

For some reason he always calmed down when you used his own logic against him, like the time he made that crude comment. You simply responded with, "Wooow Psych evals must be so useless for you to make such comments, but that puts at the top of needing some eval anyway so, you can come see me later on." He was silent, and didn't really harass Anya after that but with you it was arguments left and right. Sometimes he'd leave in a huff, but now here he is.

Snug between your thighs while you use a tow to cover his eyes, he rubs a hand over them then kisses your thigh tiredly. "How come you're catering to me now?"

"You were complaining about the showers, you act like everyone is out for you, and let's not forget that you get anxious easily. For someone who works with the Captain you're not very headstrong." The way you called him out sort of annoyed him, it made sense when he called Curly out and was able to read him. But for this to happen to him was a bit overwhelming, so he just used it as an opportunity to nuzzle your thighs again.

Once you finish with Jimmy's hair he relaxes and begins to cuddle you, "Lucky me..."

"Sure, lucky you. Let me know when you need help okay?" The copilot nods, his nose touching along your inner thigh then he'd press his face into them. "Okay, in exchange I can hold your thighs, right?"

"Sure Jimmy, you can totally do that...find some decorum please." The man stares at you with an eye roll but watches your hand rub his hair, it was obvious you had a slight soft spot for him. Yet there was a huge boundary, displayed between the two of you that he respects and yet also dismissed.

It was agitating watching this man silently defy you, while you gave him such a cold gaze until he looks away. Sometimes he'd get on his knees and rest on your lap. "I hate the way everyone looks at me...."

"That's just your mental state crumbling, best to do a pysch eval-"

"I hate the way you look at me! You hate me, don't you?" You watch him and then caress his face, "No. I hate how you reject the chances to get help and then wallow in self-pity...makes wish I could help but I can't, not if the guy I like rejects it."

Jimmy nuzzles your lap some more, letting tears shed down, "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry..."

"I know."

Jimmy sobs pathetically, and you hug his head.

[wonderlanddreamer]

Alfie Solomons x Reader

Summary: Just an all-around cutesy fun family fic based on this request. I'm so sorry this took me so long!

The living room was a sea of chaos and laughter. Alfie Solomons and his three sons, Jacob, Levi and Noah, were engaged in an epic mock battle. Pillows were strewn about like fallen warriors, and cardboard swords clashed with imaginary foes.

Jacob, the self-appointed leader, stood atop the sofa, brandishing his makeshift sword with authority. “To arms, men! We must defend the ship from invaders!”

Levi, ever the enthusiastic six-year-old, charged forward with a pillow shield. “Aye, Captain! No pirates shall cross this line!”

Noah, the youngest at four, followed suit, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’m gonna get the treasure, Daddy!”

Alfie, playing the role of the fearsome pirate captain, let out a hearty laugh that filled the room. “Arrr, you think you can best ol’ Captain Solomons, do ye? Well, you’ll have to try harder than that!”

With a playful growl, Alfie lunged forward, swooping Noah up into his arms and spinning him around. “I’ve got you know, me heartie!”

Noah squealed with delight, waving his arms around as if trying to fly. “Put me down, Captain! I’ll tell you where the treasure is!”

Jacob, not to be outdone, leaped from the sofa with a mighty battle cry. “Charge! Rescue Noah from the clutches of the pirate!”

Levi followed, the two brothers launching a coordinated assault on their father who feigned dramatic defeat, falling to the floor with exaggerated groans. “Oh, the mighty Solomons crew has bested me! What cunning fighters you are!”

You watched from the doorway, cradling your six-month-old daughter, Rosie, who cooed happily in your arms. The boys sprawled across the floor, laughter filling the room, which made you smile. “Okay, crew. Time to tidy up on deck. Our guests will be arriving soon.”

Today was a special day, as your sister Clara and her family were visiting from the countryside. Alfie, ever the doting father, ruffled each of the boys' hair affectionately before making his way over to you. With a tender touch, he cradled the back of Rosie’s head, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek and then one on yours. You rose on your tiptoes to return the gesture with a kiss on his lips before you all busied yourselves tidying up the delightful chaos of your home.

Your family arrived a little while later, just as Alfie and the boys had renewed their game of Pirates. Clara, always the embodiment of poise and grace, stepped into the bustling household with her husband Henry and their children, Emily and James, in tow. The contrast between the two families was immediately noticeable. Emily, a ten-year-old exuding quiet confidence, and James, her shy seven-year-old brother, stood close to their parents, their eyes wide as they absorbed the lively scene around them.

Henry, a man of few words with a fondness for order, appeared slightly uneasy. His gaze lingered momentarily on the scar etched across Alfie’s face—a vivid reminder of the life Alfie had lived and the battles he had faced. Sensing her husband's discomfort, Clara, ever the diplomat, gently nudged him and offered a reassuring smile as they ventured further into the vibrant chaos.

As you ushered them into the living room, Alfie paused in his play, his gaze softening as he greeted your sister with a warm hug. "Clara, love, it's been too long. Henry, good to see you, mate," he said, extending a hand to Henry, who shook it with a polite nod.

The children exchanged tentative smiles, with Emily and James hanging back slightly behind their parents, unsure of how to navigate the exuberant energy of the Solomons boys, who had resumed their play with newfound vigor. Emily, with her neatly braided hair and a book clutched to her chest, surveyed the scene with cautious curiosity, while James, clutching a small toy car, shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Alright, you lot, settle down for a bit,” you called out, your voice a gentle command amidst the lively chaos. The boys, though reluctant, heeded your words, collapsing onto the sofa in a tangled heap of giggles and elbows, their laughter bubbling up like an unstoppable tide.

As dinner approached, you found yourself orchestrating a delicate balance between chaos and calm. The dining table, a long, sturdy wooden piece that had witnessed countless meals and family gatherings, was set with meticulous care. Each place was adorned with simple yet elegant tableware, and the soft glow of candles flickered gently, casting a warm, inviting light across the room. The aroma of roast chicken, infused with herbs and surrounded by a medley of colorful vegetables, wafted through the air, offering a comforting contrast to the lively chatter and occasional bursts of laughter that echoed around you.

Seated at the head of the table, Alfie took it upon himself to engage Emily and James, his natural charisma shining through as he endeavored to draw them out of their shells. “So, Emily, James, you like stories, yeah? I’ve got a few good ones about treasure hunts and daring escapes that'll have you on the edge of your seat,” he announced with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of challenge.

The children exchanged nervous glances, their eyes flickering between their plates and Alfie’s expectant gaze. Emily seemed both intrigued and wary. James, clutching his fork tightly, was visibly torn between curiosity and caution. Despite Alfie's best efforts, the scar that bisected his face and his naturally booming voice cast a shadow over his otherwise friendly demeanour, making the children hesitant to engage fully.

Noticing their hesitation, you leaned over to Alfie with a gentle smile, your touch on his arm a subtle cue. “Maybe start with something a bit less adventurous, love. How about the story of how you outsmarted that fox in the chicken coop?”

Alfie chuckled, a deep, warm sound that softened the edges of his rugged exterior. He nodded, shifting his approach with ease. “Ah, right, that one’s a classic. So there we were, middle of the night, and this cheeky fox thought he’d have a go at our chickens…” His voice took on a playful tone as he launched into the tale, weaving humour and suspense into his words, gradually drawing Emily and James into the story with each vivid detail. Slowly, their apprehension melted away, replaced by smiles and wide-eyed anticipation.

As Alfie wove stories with animated gestures and a playful tone, the ice continuing to thaw. Emily and James listened intently, their initial apprehension giving way to genuine curiosity. Alfie had a way of turning even the simplest story into an epic adventure, and soon the table was filled with laughter.

Meanwhile, Jacob, Levi, and Noah, ever the mischievous trio, had taken it upon themselves to share their peculiar brand of "wisdom" with their cousins. The boys, with the kind of solemnity that only children can muster, demonstrated what they deemed the "proper" way to eat peas—by launching them like tiny catapults across the table using the backs of their forks. Each pea flew through the air in a perfect arc, landing with a soft plop amidst the plates and cutlery.

Your stern look was met with their exaggerated innocence, the boys' eyes wide and faces a picture of feigned ignorance. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a serious demeanor, you couldn't suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The sight was both exasperating and endearing, a reminder of the boundless creativity and joy of childhood.

Little Rosie, perched in her high chair with a perfect view of the spectacle, was utterly delighted. Her tiny hands clapped together with glee, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched her brothers' antics. Her giggles, a sweet and melodic sound, filled the room, providing a joyful counterpoint to the mayhem. Her laughter was infectious, and soon even the adults found themselves chuckling, the initial chaos softening into a shared moment of family warmth and connection.

As the meal progressed, conversation flowed more freely. Clara and Henry shared stories from their quiet village life, while you recounted the latest antics of the boys, each tale more outlandish than the last. Alfie, ever the storyteller, chimed in with anecdotes that had the whole table in stitches, even managing to coax a few smiles from Henry.

After dinner, the children burst forth into the garden, and their liberation from the confines of the dining table met with joyful exuberance. The garden, a sprawling oasis of lush green grass and vibrant wildflowers, was bordered by towering oak trees whose branches swayed gently in the evening breeze. The sky above was a canvas of deepening blues and purples, with the first stars beginning to twinkle against the fading light of day.

The Solomons' boys, natural leaders in mischief and adventure, quickly took charge, inviting Emily and James to join them in a spirited game of hide and seek. Their voices rang out through the crisp air, filled with excitement as they dashed across the lawn, weaving between garden furniture and disappearing into the shadows cast by the trees. Emily, her braids bouncing with each step, giggled as she found a perfect hiding spot behind a sprawling rose bush, while James, his earlier reservations forgotten, crouched behind a large oak, his eyes wide with anticipation. The children's laughter echoed like music, a joyful symphony that spoke of new friendships being forged in the twilight.

Inside the house, you and Clara worked side by side, clearing the table in a seamless rhythm born of years spent sharing chores and confidences. The clatter of cutlery and the gentle scrape of dishes against the wooden table were soothing, familiar sounds. Clara paused for a moment, surveying the room with a smile that reached her eyes. “You’ve got quite the lively crew here,” she commented, her voice tinged with both admiration and amusement. “But I can see the love in every corner of this home.”

You turned your gaze toward the window, where the scene outside unfolded like a cherished painting. There stood Alfie, his silhouette sturdy yet gentle against the dusky sky. He watched over the children with a gaze that was both protective and tender, embodying the essence of a guardian and a father. Rosie, nestled snugly against his broad chest, was a picture of contentment. Her tiny hand clutched his shirt as she nuzzled closer, lulled by the rhythmic motion of Alfie’s hand, which stroked her back with soothing, whisper-soft movements. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with the promise of sleep, as she basked in the warmth and safety of her father's embrace.

“It’s chaotic, but it’s ours. I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” you replied to Clara, a sense of deep satisfaction and love swelling within you. The chaos was a tapestry of cherished moments, woven together by laughter, love, and the vibrant energy of family life.

Clara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze shifting to Alfie. “And Alfie... he’s really something. I think he won over Emily and James with that story about the fox,” she said, her voice soft with appreciation.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you recalled the scene at the table. Alfie’s voice, usually so commanding, had taken on a playful lilt, weaving a tale that captivated the children and drew them into his world. “He has a way about him. Once you get past the rough edges, he’s got the biggest heart,” you remarked, your voice filled with affection and pride. Alfie’s storytelling was more than just entertainment; it was a bridge that connected him to others, revealing the kindness and warmth that lay beneath his rugged exterior. As you and Clara continued to tidy up, the laughter from outside mingled with your own, wrapping your home in a cocoon of love and togetherness.

As the evening gradually drew to a close, the first stars began to twinkle against the velvet backdrop of the night sky, casting a serene glow over the garden. The children, their energy finally beginning to wane after a day filled with laughter and adventure, were coaxed back inside with gentle words and promises of bedtime stories. The transition from the lively outdoors to the comforting confines of the house was seamless, the warmth of the interior enveloping them like a soft blanket.

Upstairs, you tenderly settled Rosie into her crib, her tiny form nestled among the plush blankets. Her eyelids fluttered briefly, a sleepy protest against the pull of slumber, before she succumbed to the peaceful embrace of sleep. Her breathing slowed into a gentle, rhythmic pattern, each exhale a soft sigh of contentment. The boys, still buzzing with the remnants of their outdoor escapades, were soon tucked into their beds. Their whispered conversations, filled with the lingering excitement of the day, gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing cadence of their breaths as they drifted off to dreamland.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was relaxed and convivial. Alfie and Henry sat comfortably in the dimly lit living room, each nursing a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the light, casting a warm glow that mirrored the camaraderie between them. Their conversation flowed with ease, the occasional burst of laughter punctuating their dialogue and breaking the stillness of the room. The day’s earlier formalities had given way to a genuine connection, a shared understanding forged over shared stories and mutual respect.

You joined Clara on the sofa, the cushions soft and inviting beneath you. A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle clink of tea cups and the soft rustle of fabric as James and Emily, their energy finally spent, dozed quietly with their heads resting on Clara’s lap. The moment was a peaceful respite, a chance to reflect on the day’s events.

“It was good to see you,” you said, breaking the quiet, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “We should do this more often.”

Clara nodded, her smile warm and genuine, radiating the affection of a sister and friend. “Definitely. It’s nice to be reminded of what’s important,” she replied, her gaze drifting momentarily to the sleeping children, her voice laced with gratitude.

As the evening wound down, the sense of fulfillment in the air was palpable. Clara and her family prepared to leave, gathering their belongings with the unhurried pace of those reluctant to part. The visit had been more than just a gathering; it was a celebration of familial strength and the joy that could be found amidst the chaos of everyday life.

Standing at the door, Alfie clapped Henry on the back with a friendly grin, the camaraderie between them evident in the easy banter. “You take care, mate. And don’t worry, next time, I’ll have even better stories,” Alfie promised, his voice a playful rumble that hinted at future gatherings filled with laughter and tales.

Henry chuckled, finally at ease, his earlier reservations long forgotten. “I look forward to it, Alfie,” he replied, the sincerity in his voice a testament to the newfound friendship between the two.

As you waved goodbye to Clara and her family, watching them disappear into the night, you felt a profound sense of contentment. The house, though quieter now, seemed to hum with a lingering warmth, a testament to the bonds that had been strengthened and the love that had been shared over the course of the day.

Turning to Alfie, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you close, you found comfort in his familiar presence. “Well, love, I reckon that went alright in the end, didn’t it?” he mused, his voice a soft rumble that resonated with satisfaction.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your side. “It did, indeed,” you agreed, your voice filled with both relief and joy.

Together, you lingered in the doorway, watching as Clara’s car taillights faded into the darkness. The night settled around you, quiet and still, a gentle reminder of the connections strengthened and the memories made. Feeling the warmth of Alfie's arm around you, a sense of calm and satisfaction washed over you, knowing that the day had brought everyone closer.

[sleepymarimo]

𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕡 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥!

summary: when he sees you falling for the charms of a particular chef, law decides that he needs to step in... pairing: law x gn!reader cw: law is lowkey (highkey) manipulative?? an: a little longer than i thought it would be lol but i hope y'all enjoy wc: ~900 ⤷ based on this song! ⤷ part of this arctic monkeys mini event!

law's decision to take you to punk hazard with him was based on, more or less, rational reasons. you had a level head on your shoulders, your loyalty was unwavering and you were skilled in your area of expertise.

but most importantly? he could keep an eye on you.

yet, as the thousand sunny sailed off with the two of you in tow, he can't help but regret his decision.

with crossed arms, he leans against the railing and watches the love sick cook tend to your every need. the blond pampers you with flirtatious comments and treats of your choice, his eyes pooling with lust.

law can just tell that you're flattered by the attention.

for a second he opts to look away, his gaze snapping downwards to the swordsman who was napping a couple feet from him. he rolls his eyes at the sight, unable to keep his focus off of you for long.

your fidgeting fingers, bashful smile and the way you don't even attempt to push away the cook all wear law's patience down. you even lean into sanji's personal space, your whole body turning as you offered him all of your attention.

are you completely blind? law wonders, unable to hold in a scoff. briefly, he considers grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking the foolishness out of you.

he gets it.

confined to the walls of the polar tang, surrounded by crew mates who were akin to family, this kind of attention must have been appealing to you. that doesn't mean he has to like it, though. especially when, for nearly the past month, he's been thinking of a plan to tell you how he feels.

between managing the crew's best interests and his own desires, he chooses to bide his time. he can hold out. he's been holding out, ever since you came aboard his vessel. but he's smart and wary when it comes to such matters, so he takes to making things happen behind the scenes.

it's a little much, sure, but the surgeon is adamant on getting what he wants.

does he know what's best for you? law likes to think so.

the moment sanji drapes an arm around your shoulders, he decides that he's had enough. a familiar blue hue encapsulates the deck of the ship. "room."

accustomed to the spectacle that is law's devil fruit ability, you simply look towards your captain and offer him an inquisitive expression.

"shambles."

now, you're right beside him.

your head snaps towards where you were once standing, bringing a hand to your mouth when you notice sanji's arm wrapped around the shoulders of a groggy green haired swordsman. the two men don't have time to focus their attention on law, instead turning their anger towards one another as they began to exchange heated blows.

now in your own private corner of the ship, you give law an incredulous look. "law..." you say with some caution. "what was that about?"

he says your name, sharp and direct. "you need to snap out of it."

your brows furrow, arms crossing over your chest. you struggled to connect the dots and understand what he was referring to. the surgeon wasn't exactly the most open when it came to matters of the heart, so it didn't cross your mind that he'd be referring to anything of that nature.

"snap out of it?" you echo back, head tilting. "what're you talking about?"

that perverted chef. he thinks to himself, masking away any hints of displeasure by rolling his eyes and giving you his signature indifferent, observing expression. he'll fall for anything with two legs and a pretty face. just wait for this to all blow over and then i can take care of you how you want me to.

he can't tell you all that though, so he coolly manipulates his words and frames his concern in a more rational light. his tattooed fingers curl around your chin, squeezing lightly as he turned your face back towards the cook. he can't let it show, but he savors the feel of your soft skin under his fingers.

your eyes widen when you see sanji swooning over nami, pulling all the same lines and offering her her favorite dishes. you can feel your cheeks get warm as a sense of clarity runs through you, realizing that maybe you were a little too naive when it came to these things.

but at least you have a captain you can trust to steer you in the right direction, right?

"distractions." he says, simple and to the point, not giving you room to consider any ulterior motives he might have. "we're here for a reason, understand? don't forget what's at stake here."

he lets go of your chin and waits for your response, already thinking about what he would say if you kept insisting on wasting your time with the cook. luckily, you get the point.

you give him a nod and appreciative smile. "yeah, you're right." your shoulders shrug, your fondness towards your captain growing. "i won't forget. i mean, even though we're in an alliance and all that, we should make sure to take care of each other first, right?"

the surgeon can't help but smirk, satisfied. "bingo."

law has patience. he can wait for the right time to make you his, but until then, he'd make sure no one else got in the way.

taglist: @dimplewonie

[amethystarachnid]

NEW YEAR EVE WITH THE KIDS

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: New Year Eve party with a 10, a 6 and a 2 years old kids isn't easy, especially when it's a Stark party, but can you and your husband, Bucky, manage it?

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Request: not requested but I wanted to write for Bucky from the Holiday special with this trope: 29. New Year’s Eve Party with the Avengers (or X-men)  – The Avengers come together to celebrate the New Year, but there’s a twist: the kids are part of the celebration. How does your character juggle both the kids' excitement and their own fun as the clock counts down to midnight?

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ From now requests can only be done in the asks, not in the comments because it's confusing and I'm scared of forgetting a request <3

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

The evening begins with chaos, of course. In your household, it always does. You’re standing in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom, trying to fix the clasp on your necklace when you hear a loud crash from the kids’ room, followed by Estelle’s exasperated voice.

“Liam! I told you not to throw the ball near the closet!”

You sigh, glancing at Bucky, who is currently on the floor wrestling Julie into her tights. “I thought the party was supposed to be fun,” you mutter, and he chuckles, looking up at you with that boyish grin that still makes your heart skip.

“Fun’s subjective, doll,” he replies, finally managing to slide the tights over Julie’s chubby legs. She giggles, kicking at his vibranium arm as if it’s her favorite toy. “There we go, princess. All set for your grand entrance.”

Julie claps her tiny hands, her pigtails bobbing. “Pahty!” she exclaims, and Bucky scoops her up, planting a noisy kiss on her cheek. She shrieks in delight.

The crash upstairs is followed by Estelle shouting again. “Mom! Liam’s stuck in the closet!”

You exchange a look with Bucky. “Your turn,” you say, gesturing toward the door.

He smirks, standing up with Julie still perched on his hip. “Sure thing, boss.” He taps your chin with his free hand before heading out, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.

In the kids’ room, you hear the commotion quiet down as Bucky arrives to handle the situation. You use the brief reprieve to fix your makeup and take a deep breath. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all, and Tony Stark’s parties are legendary. You can’t show up looking like you’ve just run a marathon.

A few minutes later, Bucky returns with Liam in tow. Your six-year-old has a sheepish grin and a telltale smudge of something across his cheek. Bucky looks bemused, though not particularly surprised. “Our boy thought he could climb the shelves to get his Captain America action figure. Guess who came to the rescue?”

“Captain America?” you tease, raising a brow.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Close. His dad.” He sets Julie down and crouches to Liam’s level. “You okay, bud?”

Liam nods vigorously. “Yup! Daddy saved me!” He beams up at Bucky, who ruffles his hair and mutters something about reckless behavior being genetic. You stifle a laugh.

By the time everyone is dressed, it feels like an entire year has passed. Estelle looks radiant in her sparkly silver dress, which she picked out with great care. Liam has been persuaded into his tiny suit after much negotiation, and Julie, in her poofy pink dress, keeps twirling and declaring, “I’m a pwincess!”

Bucky, who looks as devastatingly handsome as ever in a sharp black suit, whistles low as he glances at you. “Doll, you’re stealing the show tonight.” His eyes trail over your outfit with such open admiration that it makes you blush.

“Flattery won’t get you out of diaper duty later,” you say, smirking.

He grins. “It’s worth a shot.”

With everyone finally ready, the five of you pile into the car and head to the compound. The drive is lively, filled with Julie’s excited babbling, Liam’s endless questions about fireworks, and Estelle’s occasional exasperated sighs about her younger siblings. Bucky is at the wheel, his hand reaching over to rest on your knee every so often, grounding you amidst the chaos.

When you arrive, the compound is already buzzing with life. Tony has outdone himself, as usual, with glittering decorations, an extravagant buffet, and a live band playing festive tunes. The kids’ eyes widen in awe as they take it all in.

“Remember,” you say, crouching to their level. “Stay close to us, okay?”

“Yes, Mom,” Estelle says dutifully, though she already looks like she’s itching to run off and explore. Liam bounces on his toes, clearly more excited about the dessert table than anything else. Julie clings to Bucky’s leg, her little hand clutching his fingers.

Bucky picks her up effortlessly, his eyes soft as he looks at her. “Ready to have some fun, sweetheart?”

She nods, her face lighting up. “Dance with me, Daddy?”

His grin is immediate. “Always.”

The night is young, and though wrangling three kids at a Stark party might be a Herculean task, you know one thing for certain: with Bucky by your side, it’s going to be an unforgettable start to the new year.

The party is in full swing as you and Bucky step into the grand hall with your three little ones. The band plays jazzy renditions of holiday classics, and the room sparkles with golden lights and elegant decorations. Tony is in his element, greeting guests with a drink in one hand and an effortless quip on his lips. Somewhere near the center of the crowd, you catch a glimpse of Steve, already engaged in a polite but animated conversation with Natasha.

The kids, of course, are magnets for attention. Within minutes of your arrival, they’re surrounded by adoring Avengers.

“Is this my favorite Barnes family?” Sam’s voice booms as he makes his way over, a broad smile on his face. He leans down to fist-bump Liam, who immediately grins.

“Uncle Sam!” Liam exclaims, hopping with excitement. “Look, I’m wearing a suit! Dad said I look like James Bond.”

Sam chuckles, throwing Bucky an amused glance. “James Bond, huh? High praise coming from your old man.”

Bucky shrugs, looking unapologetically proud. “He pulls it off.”

Julie, meanwhile, reaches for Sam, her tiny arms stretching toward him. “Unca Sam!” she demands, and Sam obliges, scooping her up with ease.

“Well, aren’t you the prettiest little princess,” he says, spinning her around. She squeals with delight, and you take a moment to exchange a relieved smile with Bucky. At least for now, someone else is helping entertain the kids.

Estelle, however, is more interested in catching up with Uncle Steve, who spots her and immediately crouches to her level. “Is that Estelle? Or is it a movie star in disguise?”

She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “It’s me, Uncle Steve. Can I show you the drawing I made for you?”

“Of course,” he says, his face lighting up. She pulls out a folded piece of paper from her small purse and hands it to him. It’s a detailed sketch of Captain America’s shield, meticulously colored in red, white, and blue. Steve whistles, clearly impressed. “You’ve got talent, kiddo. I’m gonna frame this.”

Estelle beams, and you exchange a look with Bucky. “She’s been working on that for days,” you whisper, and he nods, pride etched in his expression.

As the evening progresses, the kids take turns dragging you and Bucky in different directions. Liam is enthralled by the dessert table, where Thor is loudly extolling the virtues of a massive chocolate cake to anyone who will listen. Julie insists on dancing, tugging at Bucky’s hand until he relents and twirls her around on the dance floor. The sight of him, in his sharp suit, crouched down to Julie’s height and spinning her like she’s the star of the evening, melts your heart.

“You two make it look easy,” Natasha teases, appearing at your side as you watch them.

“Easy?” you laugh, sipping your drink. “Nat, I haven’t had a single moment to sit since we got here.”

“Well, you’re doing great.” She gives you a sly smile. “And if you need a breather, let me know. I’ve got my ‘scary Aunt Nat’ face ready to keep them in line.”

“Scary Aunt Nat?” you repeat, grinning. “I’m not sure they’d buy it.”

Natasha shrugs, but there’s a glimmer of affection in her eyes as she watches Julie try to dip Bucky during their dance. “Worth a shot.”

When Julie finally tires of dancing, Bucky scoops her up and makes his way back to you. “This one’s gonna crash soon,” he says, his voice warm as he adjusts her position on his hip. Julie rests her head on his shoulder, her thumb in her mouth.

“Want me to take her for a bit?” you offer.

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve got her.” His free hand finds yours, and for a moment, the chaos of the evening fades as he gives you a soft smile. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

Before you can respond, Liam reappears, his mouth covered in chocolate frosting. “Mom! Dad! Uncle Thor let me try the big cake!”

“Of course he did,” Bucky mutters, giving Thor a mock glare across the room. Thor grins unapologetically, raising a glass in salute.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, buddy,” you say, grabbing a napkin and crouching to wipe Liam’s face. He squirms but lets you do it, his excitement about the cake apparently outweighing his aversion to being fussed over.

The rest of the evening is a whirlwind. Steve steps in to play “superhero tag” with Estelle and Liam, giving you and Bucky a much-needed moment to sit down and enjoy a plate of hors d'oeuvres. Clint distracts Julie with a balloon animal he somehow fashions out of a stray party decoration. Even Tony gets involved, showing Liam and Estelle how to use a holographic projector to create firework simulations.

You lean back against Bucky’s shoulder, savoring the rare quiet moment. “We owe them all big time,” you murmur.

Bucky kisses the top of your head. “They don’t mind. It’s family.”

The word settles over you warmly, and you glance around the room. Estelle is laughing as Steve pretends to trip over his own feet during their game. Liam is perched on Thor’s shoulders, looking like he’s ready to conquer the world. Julie is curled up in Natasha’s lap, her eyelids drooping as Nat quietly tells her a story.

It’s chaotic, messy, and exhausting, but it’s yours. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The quiet moment doesn’t last. It never does.

You’re just about to take another sip of your drink when Liam barrels into you, clutching your leg with surprising force. “Mommy,” he whines, his voice muffled against the fabric of your dress, “I’m sleepy.”

You glance down and notice the way his little face is pressed against you, his arms wrapped tightly around your thigh. He’s usually full of boundless energy, so this sudden clinginess catches you off guard. “Sleepy already, huh?” you ask, crouching down to ruffle his hair. “It’s not even close to midnight.”

“I’m not tired,” he insists, his eyelids drooping even as he says it. “I just want to sit with you.”

Bucky appears at your side, Julie still nestled in his arms. She’s half-asleep now, her thumb firmly planted in her mouth, her head resting against Bucky’s shoulder. He rocks her gently without thinking, his movements instinctive and soothing. “Looks like the little ones are winding down,” he observes, his voice low.

You glance over to where Estelle is happily chatting with a small group of other kids her age. She’s animated, her hands gesturing wildly as she tells some story or another. Clearly, she’s inherited your social streak.

“Estelle seems fine,” you point out. “We just have to figure out how to keep these two awake.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his vibranium hand lightly patting Julie’s back. “You mean how to keep them awake without a meltdown.”

“Exactly,” you say, standing up with Liam still clinging to your side. He seems content to stay glued to you for now, his cheek resting against your stomach. You stroke his hair absentmindedly, already brainstorming.

Natasha appears out of nowhere, her sharp eyes taking in the scene. “Looks like bedtime’s creeping up on them,” she says with a smirk. “You two need a strategy?”

“We’re open to suggestions,” you reply, gesturing at Liam and Julie. “We want them to make it to midnight, but…”

Natasha tilts her head thoughtfully. “Maybe some fresh air would help. Take them out to the balcony for a bit. It’s quieter out there, and the cold might perk them up.”

Bucky nods. “That’s not a bad idea. What do you think, doll?”

You shrug. “Worth a shot.”

With that, you gently pry Liam from your leg and scoop him into your arms. He protests half-heartedly but quickly settles, his head drooping against your shoulder. Bucky adjusts Julie, who lets out a sleepy little sigh but doesn’t wake fully, and the two of you make your way toward the balcony.

The cold air hits you immediately as you step outside, and it’s invigorating. The sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly, and the faint sound of the party inside provides a comforting background hum. Liam stirs slightly in your arms, blinking against the crisp air.

“Hey, buddy,” you say softly. “Feel that? It’s nice out here.”

He mumbles something incoherent, but his eyes stay open. Julie, on the other hand, gives a little shiver, prompting Bucky to wrap her more tightly in his jacket.

“You think this’ll do the trick?” Bucky asks, his breath visible in the cool air.

“Let’s give it a few minutes,” you reply, swaying gently with Liam.

The two of you stand there, side by side, enjoying the rare moment of relative peace. Estelle pokes her head out onto the balcony a few minutes later, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Mom! Dad!” she exclaims, her voice slightly too loud for the serene setting. “There’s a game inside with prizes! Can I play?”

You exchange a glance with Bucky, who nods. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he says. “But stay where we can see you, okay?”

Estelle grins and darts back inside, leaving the two of you alone with the younger two. Liam starts to perk up slightly, his head lifting from your shoulder as he takes in the view of the compound grounds below.

“Are there fireworks?” he asks sleepily.

“Not yet,” you tell him. “They’ll happen at midnight.”

“I want to see them,” he says, his voice firmer now. You take that as a good sign.

Julie stirs again in Bucky’s arms, her big blue eyes blinking open. She glances around, taking in the unfamiliar setting, before giving Bucky a sleepy smile. “Daddy.”

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky says, his voice as soft as the snowflakes that begin to drift down from the sky. “You waking up a little?”

She nods, resting her tiny hand on his vibranium arm. “Cold,” she murmurs.

“We’ll go back inside soon,” he promises, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

After a few more minutes, you decide it’s time to return to the party. The fresh air has done its job—Liam is more awake now, and Julie is at least partially alert. Once inside, the warmth of the room welcomes you, and the kids seem to adjust quickly.

You and Bucky take turns carrying Julie and coaxing Liam into small activities to keep him occupied. Tony, always the entertainer, steps in at one point with a bubble machine he’s somehow rigged up, and that distracts Liam for a good ten minutes. Estelle reappears briefly to show you the prize she’s won—a small stuffed animal—before darting back to her group of friends.

“Are we actually going to make it to midnight?” you whisper to Bucky as Julie leans heavily against him again, her eyelids drooping.

“We’re stubborn,” he replies with a grin. “The kids get it from us.”

You laugh softly, taking his free hand in yours. “Alright, Sergeant Barnes. Let’s see if we can pull this off.”

The final stretch to midnight begins with a burst of energy you didn’t see coming—mainly from Liam. As the games inside kick off, his drowsiness evaporates like snow in sunlight. The moment he notices kids gathering around Tony, who’s setting up some sort of interactive holographic game, Liam wriggles out of your grasp and bolts across the room.

“Uncle Tony’s got a game!” he shouts, weaving through the crowd like a little rocket.

“Liam!” you call, but he’s already in the thick of it, his excitement contagious. Other kids, Estelle included, gather around Tony as he explains the rules with dramatic flair.

Bucky chuckles, watching Liam’s antics. “Looks like he got his second wind.”

“Lucky him,” you reply, adjusting Julie in your arms. She’s growing heavier by the second, her little head lolling against your shoulder. “Wish I could say the same about this one.”

Julie lets out a soft hum, her eyes fluttering shut. You sigh, exchanging a look with Bucky.

“Almost midnight,” he says, checking the clock on the wall. “Think we can keep her up for the fireworks?”

You cradle Julie closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We have to try. She’ll be upset if she misses them.”

Bucky steps closer, his vibranium arm resting gently on your back. “Fireworks, huh?” He leans down to nuzzle Julie’s cheek, his voice soft and coaxing. “Hey, baby girl, you wanna see the fireworks? Pretty colors in the sky?”

Julie stirs at the mention of fireworks, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. “Fiwerworks?” she mumbles, her voice slurred with sleep.

“That’s right,” you say, kissing her forehead. “But you have to stay awake for them, okay? Just a little longer.”

Her eyes open a fraction, and she nods weakly, her thumb finding its way back into her mouth. Bucky grins, clearly charmed by her determination. “That’s my girl.”

The promise of fireworks seems to work, and Julie stays semi-alert as the minutes tick by. You and Bucky take turns holding her, walking her around the room to keep her from dozing off completely. Occasionally, she perks up when she hears laughter or music, but it’s clear she’s hanging on by a thread.

Meanwhile, Liam is fully immersed in the games, his earlier sleepiness forgotten. He’s running back and forth with a gaggle of kids, cheering loudly whenever someone scores a point or completes a challenge. Estelle joins in too, though she occasionally glances back at you and Bucky to make sure everything’s okay.

As the final minutes of the year approach, Tony takes the stage to announce the countdown, and the energy in the room shifts. People start gathering near the large glass doors leading to the garden, where the fireworks will be launched. The kids trickle back to their parents, their excitement palpable.

“Mom! Dad!” Liam calls, sprinting over to you with flushed cheeks and wild eyes. “It’s almost time! Can we go outside? Uncle Tony said the fireworks are gonna be HUGE!”

Estelle follows close behind, clutching her prize from earlier and looking equally excited. “I want to see them too!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling at their enthusiasm. “Let’s get our coats.”

You and Bucky bundle the kids up as quickly as possible. Julie, now fully awake at the mention of fireworks, clings to Bucky’s neck as he wraps her in her tiny pink jacket. “Fiwerworks, Daddy!” she says, her earlier sleepiness replaced by anticipation.

“That’s right, princess,” he replies, adjusting her hood. “Let’s go see them.”

The five of you step out into the garden, joining the crowd of partygoers waiting for the show. The night is crisp and clear, the stars twinkling above, and the air buzzes with the thrill of the approaching countdown. Bucky keeps Julie in his arms, her wide eyes scanning the sky, while Liam stands between you both, bouncing on his toes. Estelle stays close, her hand gripping yours tightly.

As the final seconds tick down, the crowd begins to chant. “Ten! Nine! Eight!”

You look up at Bucky, who’s already watching you with a soft smile. His free hand finds yours, squeezing gently. “Happy New Year, doll,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush a kiss against your temple.

“Happy New Year, Buck,” you reply, your heart full as you glance at your children, their faces glowing with excitement.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” the crowd cheers as the clock strikes midnight, and the first firework explodes in the sky. It’s a brilliant burst of color—red, gold, and blue—illuminating the garden in dazzling light.

Julie gasps, her tiny hand flying to her mouth. “Oooh!”

Liam lets out a cheer, jumping up and down as more fireworks light up the night. “Look, Mom! Look, Dad!”

Estelle claps her hands, her eyes sparkling as she turns to you. “They’re so pretty!”

You and Bucky exchange a look, a shared understanding passing between you. This moment—surrounded by your children, their laughter and awe filling the air—is everything you could have hoped for. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile against him.

“Happy New Year, Mom and Dad!” Liam shouts, tugging on your hand. “This is the best!”

Bucky laughs, pulling you both into a group hug with Julie still in his arms. “Happy New Year, buddy. It’s just getting started.”

The fireworks die down, and the cheers from the crowd begin to fade into a hum of conversation and laughter. Midnight has come and gone, and while the party is just getting into full swing for most, you and Bucky exchange a knowing look.

The kids, their initial excitement fading, are starting to show signs of exhaustion. Liam tugs at your hand, leaning against your leg, his earlier energy replaced by sleepy eyes and slow movements. Julie rests her head on Bucky’s shoulder, her little hand clutching his jacket. Even Estelle, who usually has the stamina of a marathon runner, yawns widely as she rubs her eyes.

“You ready to call it a night?” Bucky asks, his voice low and warm.

You nod, brushing a strand of hair from Liam’s forehead. “Yeah. They had their moment, but they’re done. And honestly, so am I.”

Bucky chuckles, pressing a kiss to Julie’s temple. “Alright, let’s round them up.”

The kids don’t protest much as you gently guide them toward the door, saying your goodbyes to the Avengers along the way. Natasha gives you a knowing smirk, Sam teases Bucky about being an old man, and Steve promises to stop by for brunch soon. Tony makes a grand gesture of bidding farewell, but even he keeps it brief, clearly understanding the delicate balance of leaving before a kid meltdown.

By the time you reach the car, the crisp night air has lulled the younger two into a state of near-sleep. Bucky carefully buckles Julie into her booster while you help Liam into his car seat. Estelle climbs into the back with minimal fuss, clutching her stuffed animal and leaning her head against the window.

Once everyone is secured, you climb into the passenger seat, exhaling a long breath. Bucky starts the car, and the hum of the engine fills the quiet night. The drive home is peaceful, the streets nearly empty save for the occasional car heading in the opposite direction. The kids are silent, their breathing slow and steady as they drift off.

For a moment, it’s just you and Bucky, the soft glow of streetlights illuminating his profile as he drives. His hand rests on the gear shift, and without thinking, you place yours over it. He glances at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Tired, doll?” he asks, his voice soft.

“A little,” you admit, returning the smile. “But happy. It was a good night.”

Bucky nods, his eyes flicking back to the road. “Yeah. Seeing them light up like that for the fireworks… worth every second.”

You squeeze his hand gently. “And you? You didn’t hate the party?”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “I had you and the kids with me. How could I?”

The quiet comfort between you is palpable, and you take a moment to study him. The way his jawline softens when he’s relaxed, the way his eyes crinkle just slightly when he smiles. You’re about to say something when a small murmur comes from the backseat.

“Daddy…” Julie mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. “Fiwerworks pretty…”

Bucky’s smile widens as he glances at the rearview mirror. “Yeah, princess,” he says softly. “They were pretty.”

By the time you pull into the driveway, all three kids are sound asleep. Bucky kills the engine, and the two of you sit there for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell of the quiet car. Finally, he turns to you with a grin. “Think we can carry them all inside without waking them?”

“Challenge accepted,” you reply with a playful smirk.

Bucky goes for Julie first, carefully unbuckling her from her car seat. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her head resting on his shoulder as he cradles her against his chest. Meanwhile, you gently coax Liam awake enough to walk inside with your help. He grumbles softly, rubbing his eyes but ultimately lets you guide him.

Once inside, Estelle trudges toward her room on her own, too tired to argue about brushing her teeth or changing into pajamas. Liam makes it to his bed with a similar lack of resistance, flopping down onto his mattress as soon as he’s within range. You manage to get him into a pair of pajamas with minimal effort, though his eyes remain mostly shut the entire time.

Julie is the hardest, her small body limp and heavy in her sleep. Bucky sits on the edge of her bed, holding her upright while you gently pull off her party dress and replace it with her favorite unicorn pajamas. She lets out a sleepy sigh, her thumb slipping back into her mouth as her head lolls against Bucky’s chest.

“Almost done,” you whisper, smoothing her hair back. Bucky’s gaze softens as he looks down at her, his vibranium hand carefully tucking the blanket around her tiny frame once she’s settled in bed.

“She’s out like a light,” he murmurs, standing up and following you out of her room.

With all three kids finally in bed, the house falls into a deep, soothing quiet. You and Bucky make your way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch together. He stretches his arm along the back of the couch, pulling you close as you lean against him.

“Happy New Year, Mrs. Barnes,” he says, his voice teasing but tender.

“Happy New Year, Sergeant Barnes,” you reply, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “We survived another year,” he says with a chuckle.

You laugh softly, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest. “And we’ll survive many more.”

The two of you sit there in the quiet of your home, the promise of a new year stretching out before you, filled with all the chaos, laughter, and love you’ve come to cherish.

[furidaimonia]

— ❄️ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄: 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄

summary: zhongli recalls the fateful tale of when a certain snezhnayan princess was sent on a mission to liyue. fem reader. 682 words.

warnings: none

masterlist

It was another mild, serene day in Liyue Harbor. Ships glided across the sea's turquoise waters, and the market was rife with the usual hustle and bustle. Zhongli felt the gentle caress of Barbatos' breeze as he sat on the patio of the newest up-and-coming tea shop in the city, with notes of chamomile, orange, and Qiaoying's signature black blend dancing on his tongue. He watched with quiet affection as a young man proposed to his lover on the streets below, and the sun warming his face brought forth a small, content smile.

Zhongli had, admittedly, become quite fond of fading into the background and watching the lives of everyone around him play out. He felt a sense of duty to know the ins and outs of every person residing within the city he had personally fostered and protected for centuries. Off the top of his head, Little Xia would start school soon. The ship with the blue sails had caught a large haul of fish and would be allowed to stay in the harbor with their families longer once they returned -- it had been many weeks and he knew their spouses could hardly wait. Hu Tao had seen an increase in business in the past few days. Yun Jin had just completed the production of her newest play. His birthday would be approaching in the coming weeks and with it, the tide of a new year.

Preparations for the lantern rite festival had already begun, and stalls selling both materials for making and completed lanterns could be found scattered down along the waterfront. The man took another slow sip of his tea, but before he could muse further, the familiar babble and laughter of children roused him from his reverie.

"Mr. Zhongli! Mr. Zhongli!" Little Lulu called, running up to where he sat, her playmates in tow.

Zhongli made the timely decision to set his teacup down as the young girl barreled into him, wrapping her small arms around him in a tight hug. Zhongli's smile widened into a surprised grin.

"Little Lulu, how lovely it is to see that happy face. How are your parents?" he asked, gently patting the top of her head.

"Everything's great! 'Cept my daddy forgot my mommy's birthday and their anniversary. But she told me not to tell anyone!" she beamed, and Zhongli's smile faltered ever so slightly.

"Ah... I see," he chuckled awkwardly before gazing at the two other boys waiting patiently for his attention.

"What's the occasion? Surely you didn't run all across Liyue Harbor just to give me a hug."

Little Lulu detached herself from Zhongli's side as Little Fei pouted. "We were playing pirates again, but we couldn't come up with a good story... and then we remembered you're the best at telling stories, so we came and found you!"

"So it's a story you seek, is it?" He said, leaning back in his seat. "Must it be about pirates? I'm sure Captain Beidou has much better tales than I about life on the sea."

"Anything will do!" Little Fei exclaimed, crossing his arms. "We're just bored, but your stories are always entertaining."

Zhongli's lips quirked at the young boy's compliment. "Hmm... have I told you about the Rabbit on the Moon?"

The children nodded.

"I see... well then, what about the Hare and the Tortoise?"

"You've told us that one, too!" Little Meng said, coming up to lean on Zhongli's knee. "We want something new."

"Yeah! Something new!" Little Lulu parroted, jumping excitedly.

The man brought a finger to his lips as he contemplated. Something new... a story he had never told anyone before...

"Perhaps I have the perfect story after all. It took place here, in this very harbor, not far from where we sit now..."

The three children quickly drew nearby stools and took their seats before him, exchanging excited smiles.

Sensing that his eager audience was ready for him to continue, he spoke once more. "This is a story about yin and yang - the fateful crossing of paths between a princess and a god. Shall we begin?"

[xoxobuckybarnes]

August 2024 Reading List

Complete

War & Peace and the Redemption of Bucky Barnes (Rated: E, Words: 51K) by ThePirateStorm / @fsbc-librarian

Summary: Bucky Barnes is running from his problems. He’s housesitting for his best friend while she’s on her honeymoon - the almost a year prior that he’s been staying in her house doesn’t count - when he’s woken in the middle of the night by an angel and a demon. Okay, maybe they’re not a literal angel and demon, but Steve Rogers *looks* like an angel, and his daughter Charli certainly *acts* like a demon. The father/daughter duo are running from their own problems, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t crash headlong into one another’s lives. Throw in a cursed book for good measure, and it’s about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Sleep, Baby (Rated: E, Words: 4K) by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle)

Summary: Have a baby, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. And it is, but it’s also the most bone-crushingly tiring thing in the world. Bucky needs a nap, coffee, and sex, but his baby WILL NOT SLEEP! He should have known his husband always has a plan, especially on Valentine's Day. Written for the Hell Yeah Bottom Bucky Valentines Exchange.

Winter's Children (Rated: E, Words: 66K) by Neery

Summary: When their attempts to recreate the super soldier serum failed, Hydra started trying to breed Captain America clones from his genetic samples. Unfortunately, the serum's effects aren't passed down genetically, so instead of an army of tiny Captain Americas, they get a bunch of tow-headed, asthmatic, allergic, immuno-compromised little Steves. And then the Winter Soldier stumbles across Hydra's failed experiment...

tin cans with string (Rated: T, Words: 22K) by Somanywords / @somanywords

Summary: Bucky’s mother was looking at him knowingly, and she pulled out a chair for him, which he climbed into gratefully. “You’re an only child, aren’t you, Steve?” “Yes Ma’am.” “It ever gets to be too much for you, you just excuse yourself and come sit in the kitchen a minute. It’s a little noisy with the baby at times, but other than that you can catch a breath.” Steve looked up at her gratefully. She understood, and having someone understand was the best thing in the world. --an exploration of mothers, and of one that isn’t yours.

Where You Lead, I Will Follow (Rated: T, Words: 11K) by attackofthezee (noxlunate)

Summary: When Steve was sixteen years old Peggy Carter had placed a tiny, blonde six pound, three ounce bundle into Steve’s arms. She’d kissed the top of Carter’s head, kissed Steve’s cheek and said “I can’t do this.” with such strength and conviction that Steve hadn’t even questioned her. “I know.” Steve had said, shifting Carter to rest against his chest, a hand on her bottom and the other cupping her tiny, soft head. “But I can.” AKA it's a Gilmore Girls AU and Steve loves his kid, Bucky, Stars Hollow, and coffee. In that order.

Seahorses (Rated: E, Words: 31K) by poppyfields13 & tinzelda

Summary: Now that Bucky’s taken over the role of Captain America, Steve feels like it’s finally the time to start a family. Bucky doesn’t know what to feel when Steve breaks the news he’s going to adopt a baby. He wants Steve to be happy, but he’s worried it will affect their friendship. Once Steve becomes a dad though, Bucky can’t help falling in love with the baby. And maybe Steve will finally see Bucky in a different light.

Loves Me Like A Rock (Rated: T, Words: 4K) by musette22 / @musette22

Summary: “You’re not that bad, Steve,” Sarah reassures him, though she can’t be entirely sure. “I’m sure you must’ve gotten a little better at flirting since your high school days?” Steve makes a face. “What on earth would give you that idea?” “Well,” Sarah says, reaching over to give Steve's hand a consoling pat, “you have other qualities, my darling.” “Such as?” “You could out-stubborn a donkey,” she answers, without missing a beat. “You’ve got a decent singing voice, too. Dogs love you.” Steve huffs. “Gee, thanks, ma. That's really helpful.”

A Wedding to Remember (Rated: E, Words: 19K) by SucculentHyena

Summary: It’s Becca’s wedding, her happiest day. Bucky just wants it to go as planned. And it does! Repeatedly.

Five Times Bucky Modelled For Steve (Rated: T, Words: 8K) by Selenay

Summary: The first time Steve drew Bucky, he had purple hair like something out of a cartoon. "I don't have a brown," Steve said when he got to Bucky's hair. "Sorry. It got broken."

sharing beds like little kids (Rated: M, Words: 17K) by tesselated

Summary: Steve and Bucky are childhood best friends who get separated when they're thirteen and Steve moves away. Five years later, they see each other at a party. ++ It seemed to Bucky that there had to be a certain all-encompassing awkwardness in going up to the guy you loved best when you were twelve and saying “Hey buddy, remember me?”

Love Thy Neighbor (Rated: M, Words: 7K) by hermionesmydawg / @anthonystan

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a few problems with his new neighbor: 1. He's hot 2. He's loud 3. He might be a secret superhero

if your heart's still open (Rated: E, Words: 8K) by steveandbucky

Summary: “What’s wrong, Buck?” “You really gotta ask that?” “Yeah, I do.” Steve clenches his jaw. “You were the one who ended things.”

WIP

Gold Must Be Tried By Fire (Rated: M, Current Words: 28K) by lavenderpanic / @lavenderpanic

Summary: The pamphlets about escaping abuse always glossed over this part, and Bucky finally understands why. Nobody would fucking leave if they knew how hard recovery would be. In the midst of a trial that questions every hard-won truth out of Bucky’s mouth, can he possibly allow himself to heal- physically and mentally? **Sequel to I Am Ash From Your Fire**

The Life of Jamie Barnes (Rated: M, Current Words: 9K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: The continuing adventures of Steve, Bucky and baby James from the Heart of Mine series through the years.

Rereads

Nothing Good Ever Happens on a Tuesday (Rated: T, Words: 28K) by megs_bee

Summary: Recently discharged soldier James Barnes is back in Brooklyn, down an arm and missing five years of memories, but he’s got his PTSD mostly under control, a fancy metal prosthetic, and what’s starting to feel like it could be a half-decent life. What he doesn’t have is any memory of the kid looking at James and asking him, “Are you my daddy?” -- or the gorgeous blond guy standing next to her. Steve Rogers lost his best friend Bucky five years ago, with no warning and no answers when he tried to find out what happened. So it was one hell of a surprise to walk into the grocery store one afternoon and come face to face with the man he thought was dead.

Prince Charming (Rated: E, Words: 55K) by Brenda / @brendaonao3

Summary: Bucky Barnes leads quite the charmed life. He has a thriving tattoo shop, a son he adores, the world’s best dogs, and a great group of friends — almost all of whom are in relationships. And maybe he'd been the one nudging them towards each other, but there's nothing wrong with a little match-making. The world could use more romance. As for him personally, well, he doesn’t need anyone for the long haul. Not when every girl he meets is someone who he thinks would be perfect for someone else. But then Steve Rogers comes into his shop looking for some ink, and maybe that’s the problem right there. Maybe what he's looking for in a relationship isn't a girl at all.

[echoreconcrew]

Meet Me In the Woods

Chapter 5: Lines in the sand

Author's Note: Shits. About. To. Go. Down. Well, some of it anyway.

Summary: Valérie returns home, hoping for solace, but instead, she finds herself caught in a storm of words.

Word Count: 3,500

Warnings: General angst/brimming anxiety; lots of desperate longing, mentions of impending danger, we all know the empire, arguments, controlling behavior

The HUB | Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

▄︻デ══━一

Val crept ever closer to the Syndulla residence, if it could still be called that. In truth, it was little more than a makeshift home the family had occupied after the droid armies fell, and during that brief window when Ryloth’s capital still stood and the Twi’lek had dared to hope. It was a temporary claim, like so much during the war, fragile and conditional. And more recently, a reclaim at that. 

After Howzer’s departure, Val had used the opportunity to hide the rifle just beyond the city walls. Smuggling it back into the house would’ve been too risky. Instead, she’d found a small cavern, half-collapsed and littered with old crates and forgotten supplies. Perfect. If anyone stumbled upon it, they’d just assume it was leftover debris from the war’s chaotic end—nothing worth questioning.

But now, as she drew near the house, her steps slowed.

There he was again. Strutting.

Howzer always moved like that—shoulders back, chin high, like he was on parade even when the world around him was crumbling. At first, she’d blamed the armor for the posture, thinking maybe it forced him into that confident stance. But no—it was just him. All him. That same damnable pride he wore like a second uniform. Val rolled her eyes to herself for finding it intriguing, as she scoffed under her breath.

Then she saw Hera. And Chopper. In tow behind Howzer and his men.

Her gaze flicked toward the girl, catching the droop of her shoulders, the tension coiled in her posture. The chatter on Howzer’s comm earlier hadn’t sounded good. Now, seeing the look on Hera’s face confirmed it—something was wrong. But what was the girl even doing out there?

A knot formed in Val’s chest.

Gobi had spoken to Hera that morning, in hushed tones, barely a whisper between them. She’d noticed it then, but now—now it made sense. Her own brother had sent a child on some errand that reeked of risk. Reckless. Cowardly. It was one thing for Gobi to endanger himself. But Hera? That crossed a line.

Val lingered in the shadows, waiting. Watching.

The Captain was speaking with Cham—his words barely audible from where Val stood. She caught fragments of the conversation, just enough to piece together the situation as Gobi left the balcony, stepping away from Eleni to intercept the girl. Hera’s mother moved swiftly, ushering her daughter inside while Howzer assured Cham he wouldn’t be filing a report about the child’s presence in a restricted zone.

Val had already guessed as much. She’d seen the Captain before he made his way over—seen the look in his eyes, the quiet resolve in his stance. He’d made up his mind then, long before the conversation began. Whatever rules he was breaking, he wasn’t about to drag a child into this mess.

And then he nodded at Cham, departing with his men. As he passed by Val’s hiding spot, he gave a brief nod—nothing more. No words. No acknowledgement beyond the subtle dip of his chin. That was how it had to be. Out here, under the scrutiny of everyone's eyes, even a glance too long could raise suspicion. Better to seem distant. Cordial at best. Silent always.

Still, Val couldn’t help noticing the way he carried himself. Helmet under his arm while his men kept theirs on—an act that was almost certainly against regulation. Bold. Defiant.

And in a way, oddly comforting.

Once Howzer had disappeared down the path, Val shifted her focus back to the argument unfolding across the courtyard. Her brother was in a heated exchange with Cham—and from the look on the general’s face, he’d already connected the dots. Gobi was to blame.

And honestly? Cham wasn’t in the wrong for being angry.

Val clenched her jaw. As furious as she was, she chose to stay silent, trusting Cham to handle it—at least for now. She could deal with Gobi later, away from public eyes and ears. A more private confrontation. She edged closer, careful to stay hidden in the shadows while she listened.

“Do you realize what could’ve happened if this had been reported? My daughter, spying on an Imperial facility?” Cham’s voice was sharp, laced with restrained fury.

Even from a distance, Val could feel the smugness radiating off her brother. That familiar, infuriating air of righteousness clung to him. “Why call it spying?” Gobi fired back. “What don’t they want us to see?”

Cham scoffed, frustrated. His stance was rigid, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Val moved in as close as she dared, keeping behind cover. This—this—was exactly what Howzer had warned her about. Gobi was crossing lines now, pushing limits he couldn’t afford to. Reckless didn’t begin to cover it. And child or not, Hera was caught in the middle.

Val had promised herself she’d stay out of Gobi’s plans, no matter the blood between them. That promise was getting easier to keep with every stunt he pulled. More and more, she found herself agreeing with Howzer’s quiet warnings. There were smarter ways to resist—safer ways.

“This is a delicate situation,” Cham said, his voice low but firm. “I will not have you dragging Hera into the middle of it.”

Gobi didn’t answer immediately. His gaze shifted, scanning the courtyard where a handful of clone troopers lingered at their posts. His expression darkened.

“The clones were supposed to leave Ryloth when the war ended,” he said, the words cutting like glass.

Val felt a chill crawl up her spine. It wasn’t just a complaint—it was an accusation. And he wasn’t wrong. The soldiers’ continued presence was certainly a statement. Didn’t mean she agreed with Gobi about the negative connotations, nor was she complaining about Howzer and his men’s lingering presence. Yet beneath it all, Val knew exactly what her brother's words really were about.

It was about Howzer. Gobi’s discomfort with her being near him, trusting him, even listening to him. Her brother had never said it outright, but the tension had always been there—coiled tight, waiting for a moment like this to snap.

Cham’s voice cut sharply through Gobi’s rising indignation, silencing the tirade before it could gather more momentum. The general’s words landed like a hammer blow. "The clones were supposed to leave?" he asked, his tone laced with quiet accusation. "Or is it one in particular you take issue with?"

Val, still concealed in the shadows, held her breath. The question hung heavy in the air, more than rhetorical. It was a direct strike, aimed with precision—and Gobi felt it.

He scoffed, the sound bitter and defensive. “That’s irrelevant.”

“No,” Cham replied coldly. “I decide what’s relevant when it comes to my daughter’s safety. And if you're allowing your personal vendetta to cloud your judgment—if you're dragging Hera into the depths of your paranoia because you can't separate one trooper from the rest—I won’t stand for it.”

Gobi’s jaw clenched, but Cham wasn’t finished. “Valérie is an adult now. Whether you approve or not, she makes her own choices.”

“She’s my family,” Gobi growled. “This isn’t what our parents would’ve wanted. I’m only trying—”

“To control her?” Cham snapped. “To shield her from a companionship? You are not her keeper, Gobi.”

Val could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she leaned in closer, heat rising in her chest with every word.

Cham took a step forward, his voice low but resolute. “Howzer is an honorable man. He’s proven that—more than once. And today, he saved Hera from the consequences of your actions.”

Gobi looked away, jaw tight, eyes narrowing as they flicked toward the troopers in the distance. But Cham didn’t stop.

“When will you learn to stand aside in that matter?” he asked, his tone not angry, but exhausted. Frustrated. Like a man who had seen enough war, enough damage, and was desperate to protect what little he had left. Allowing her brother’s personal unease at her choice of friendship was no excuse for endangering a child. 

Val remained rooted in place, muscles taut, heart hammering in her chest. She was suspended in that all-too-familiar space between pride and pain, where fury threatened to overtake reason.

She knew Gobi meant well—at least, a part of him did. Somewhere beneath all the righteous anger and stubborn conviction, there was a brother who wanted to protect her. But good intentions didn’t excuse recklessness. Not when it risked lives. Not when it pulled children like Hera into the line of fire.

And certainly not when it dismissed the man who had risked everything to keep her safe.

Howzer.

The very mention of him—unspoken but present in Gobi’s words—had lit a different fire inside her. It was more than disapproval. Gobi’s disdain for her connection to the clone wasn’t tactical or political. It was personal. A line drawn not for strategy’s sake, but pride’s.

And that? That infuriated her.

Howzer had saved her life. More than once. He'd stood by her when no one else dared. He’d proven himself, not just as a soldier, but as a man with a conscience. He continued to care—not out of duty, but choice. That wasn’t Gobi’s to question. Not anymore. Family or not, he didn’t get to dictate who earned her trust, her loyalty—her heart.

The argument between Cham and Gobi had shifted now, their voices lower, turning toward debates of peace and the ever-fraught question of staying armed in uncertain times. But Val had heard enough.

She stepped out from behind the wall, her boots hitting the stone with steady, deliberate weight. The air shifted as both men noticed her, their conversation faltering, tension thickening with unspoken questions.

She didn’t slow.

She didn’t offer a word.

She didn’t need to.

Their eyes followed her as she walked directly toward the house, their silence louder than anything they could’ve said. She knew what they were thinking—how long had she been standing there? How much had she heard? She didn’t tell them. She wouldn’t. What mattered was that she’d heard enough.

“Valérie—” Gobi’s voice called after her, hesitant.

She raised a hand mid-stride, not looking back. “Save it, Gobi.” The words were sharp, final. She didn’t break her pace as she passed him, brushing by without a glance, disappearing inside.

Let him wonder. Let him stew.

He’d come find her eventually—probably on the balcony where she always went to think. But for now, she had no interest in smoothing things over. Not yet. Because his words lingered. They echoed.

And they hurt.

The cool interior of the Syndulla home offered little comfort as Val slipped through its halls, the heavy silence pressing down around her. She climbed the narrow staircase with practiced steps, the familiar creak of the fourth step grounding her for just a second. But her thoughts surged too loudly to settle.

She pushed open the old balcony door and stepped out into the dusk-lit air. The sky above Ryloth was stained with amber and deep violet, a palette of a world at uneasy peace. She leaned against the railing, hands gripping the stone as if the weight of her anger might crack it.

The wind brushed against her face, bringing with it the distant hum of patrol speeders and the muffled voices of a city too cautious to speak freely. How dare he.

She didn’t even realize she was grinding her teeth until her jaw ached. Gobi’s words replayed over and over, clashing with memories that refused to fade—memories of Howzer standing beside her in firefights, of him shielding her with his own body when a blast came too close. Of him listening, really listening, when no one else would. 

Or the way he boldly renounced the republic to her. Embraced Ryloth’s rich culture and history. Her family’s history. Holding her when she was upset over the anniversary of her parent’s death. 

And Gobi dared to view it with disdain?

A choice she seemingly needed to be protected from?

He saw Howzer as nothing more than the uniform he wore. A remnant of the Republic. But Val knew better. She’d seen the man beneath the armor. A soldier, yes, but one who chose to question orders. Who risked everything to do what was right—even if it meant standing alone more often than not.

How many people can you say that about?

The door creaked behind her, soft and hesitant.

She didn’t turn. She didn’t need to.

“I didn’t mean to—” he began, voice quieter now.

“No,” she cut in, voice even. Controlled. “You meant every word.”

Silence fell between them, thick and unmoving. After a beat, she finally turned to face him.

“You think I don’t know who he is? What he represents?” Her voice didn’t rise, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. “You think I don’t question it every day? That I don’t see the uniform and remember everything it stands for.”

She stepped closer.

“But I also see the man who pulled me out of that wreckage when no one else came back for me. Including you. I see the one who stood between Hera and danger just this afternoon. The one who chose to disobey Imperial command because he knew it was wrong.”

Gobi looked away, jaw tight, but didn’t interrupt.

“You want to talk about what our parents would’ve wanted?” she pressed. “They would’ve wanted us to see people clearly. Not through bitterness. Not through some vague attempt at controlling me and my life choices.”

Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t stop. “You don’t get to decide who I trust, Gobi. Not who I care for.”

She turned back to the horizon, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest. For a moment, Gobi didn’t say a word. Then: “Our parents made me promise to keep you safe. I don’t want to lose you.”

She exhaled slowly, the fire in her chest cooling just enough for the ache to rise. The pain softened her expression, but her voice remained firm. “Then stop pushing me away.”

Gobi hesitated, then started to speak, but his words were jagged, forced. “Staying close to the clon—” He caught her glare mid-sentence, and corrected himself. “—to Howzer, means the Empire stays close to you. I won’t let that happen.”

Val's eyes narrowed, anger flashing like lightning behind them.

“That’s where you're wrong,” she snapped, voice sharp with disbelief. “Howzer is the one who warned me. About patrols tightening. About the Empire tracking movement outside the city walls. About probe droids, Gobi—likely already deployed out there as we speak.”

Her voice was rising, not just in volume, but in desperation. In frustration.

Gobi’s expression shifted immediately, away from concern for her and straight into the tunnel vision that had become so common in him these days. “Probe droids?” he repeated, eyes already scanning the distant skyline as if they might appear that instant. His tone was edged with fear, suspicion. It was his usual cocktail of resistance and obsession.

Val stared at him.

“That’s all you care about?” she asked quietly, the question cutting deeper than any accusation. “You hear that the Empire’s watching us more closely, and your first thought is how to hit back?”

“It is important, Valérie,” Gobi said, stepping forward. “You don’t see the full picture. I’ve already reached out to a contact. I’m leaving tonight to—”

“Stop.” The word came out like a blade. Cold. Precise. It silenced him immediately.

He blinked. “What?”

“I don’t want to be involved,” she said, her voice low, resolute.

Gobi stared at her, as if the words physically struck him. Then he shook his head, more in disbelief than in disagreement.

“Because he told you not to be,” he muttered bitterly.

Val took a step toward him, her tone quiet but sharper than before. “Because the senator is watching us like hawks circling womp rats. Because every meeting you hold, every plan you hatch, puts the rest of us closer to the edge.” Her voice trembled with restrained fury. “Because I’ve seen the way Orn Free Taa looks at our people. Like we’re all just one misstep from becoming traitors. And if even one toe crosses the line, he’ll come down on all of us.”

She paused, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a drawn blade. The silence between them thickened: tense, brittle, ready to snap.

“I won’t give him that reason, Gobi,” she said again, quieter this time. But no less firm.

Her brother bristled, jaw tightening as frustration flared in his eyes. “Backing down now means everything we fought for—everyone we lost—was for nothing,” he said, his voice rising with urgency. “If we wait too long, there won’t be anything left to protect. We need to act before it’s too late.”

Val didn’t flinch. She met his words with calm resistance, her voice steady, controlled.

“No. Rushing in blindly means all that we fought for ends in ruin. It continues the bloodshed. Exercising caution isn’t cowardice, Gobi. It’s strategy. Especially when we don’t even know the full scale of what we’re facing.”

He shook his head, pacing a step away, fists clenched at his sides. “You sound like Cham now. Or worse, like one of them.”

That stung. She felt it, but she didn’t let it show. “And you sound like someone who’s itching to start a war before we even understand the layout of the battlefield,” she snapped back.

There it was, laid bare between them. A growing chasm that no shared blood could bridge.

They had always been different. Gobi, the firebrand. The fighter. The one who charged into blaster fire with grit in his teeth and no plan beyond sheer will. And Val; calculated, methodical. A sharpshooter. One who saw from a distance, who waited for the right moment to strike, not just any moment.

Gobi stepped forward again, eyes searching hers, desperate. “We can’t afford to hesitate.”

“What we can’t afford, is to be reckless,” she countered, stepping into his space. “You think you’re fighting for freedom, but if you pull the trigger too soon, you’ll bring the Empire down on every man, woman, and child in this region. Are you ready to live with that?”

He faltered, just slightly. Enough for her to see it. The edge of her voice softened, though the steel beneath remained. “You and I? We fight the same enemy. But not the same way. You charge forward, and I cover you from the shadows. That’s how it’s always been. But if you drag me into a battle before it's time, Gobi… I won’t follow you.”

The words hurt. She could see it in his eyes. But they had to be said.

Gobi stood there, jaw set, breathing heavily through his nose like he was holding back the flood of everything he still wanted to say. The silence between them cracked, and he finally spoke, but not with the restraint she’d hoped for.

“This isn’t just about the Empire,” he said, voice low, bitter. “This is about him, isn’t it? About Howzer. You trust him so much you’d rather believe he’s right, more than your own blood.”

Val’s eyes locked on him, the shift immediate, violent. Her entire body tensed like a drawn bow, every ounce of restraint she’d clung to unraveling in a heartbeat.

“Don’t.” Her voice was a warning, sharp enough to draw blood.

But he didn’t stop.

“You’re not seeing clearly anymore. He’s too close. It’s clouding your judgment.”

Val took a step forward, and this time, her fury was a living thing, a storm barely contained behind her eyes. “Say his name again,” she hissed, voice trembling with rage, “and I swear to the stars, Gobi, I’ll forget we’re family.”

He flinched, but she wasn’t done.

“I never want to hear Howzer’s name pass your lips again. Not in anger, not in blame, not ever. You don’t get to speak about him. Not after today. Not after what you did. Not with what you have planned.”

She was trembling now, not from fear, but from everything she’d swallowed down since the moment she heard Hera was in danger, since Gobi dragged the girl into his plans, since he had the audacity to question the one man who had done more to protect them than either of them wanted to admit.

“You think he’s the danger?” she spat. “He’s the only reason we’re not all standing in a prison cell right now.”

Gobi looked stunned, guilt flickering across his face, but Val didn’t let it soften her.

“You’re so obsessed with fighting the enemy, you’ve stopped seeing the difference between a threat and a shield. He is not the enemy. But right now? You’re starting to look a lot like one.”

She turned her back on him, stepping away, the fury still coiled tight in her chest. “Get off this balcony, Gobi.”

He didn’t move.

“I said go.”

Her voice cracked, not from weakness, but from the weight of too much said.

And this time, he listened.

Without another word, Gobi turned and left her there, the door clicking shut behind him like the last nail in something neither of them had wanted to bury.

Val gripped the balcony’s edge, eyes fixed on the horizon, but she wasn’t seeing the sky anymore. Only the distance growing between the past and the present. Between her and the people she once thought would never become strangers.

Between blood and something else entirely.

Tag List

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[wistfulcynic]

the inn is a metaphor

They are terrible at running an inn. 

In the beginning. 

They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing. 

They learn. 

There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start. 

The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one. 

Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…

“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.” 

The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them. 

They get to work. 

Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul. 

(It’s not Pop-Pop.) 

A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests. 

It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are. 

The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews. 

The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes. 

“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer. 

“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.” 

“You miss it.” 

“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.” 

“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face. 

“Yes really! Do you doubt it?” 

“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—” 

“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?” 

Ed shakes his head. 

“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.” 

They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way. 

They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.” 

“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.” 

“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?” 

“Got a nice turbot we could roast.” 

“Ooh, fab.” 

The inn’s front door closes behind them. 

It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive. 

It’s what makes them happy. 

[dr-futbol-blog]

Allies, Pt. 5

The wraith queen and her entourage make their way through Atlantis from the promontory where their ship had touched down to the gate room where the welcoming committee is waiting for them. As already mentioned, McKay is not there with them. In fact, out of everyone that had been in the meeting room discussing this, he is the only one not welcoming the wraith queen to Atlantis. And what makes it even more striking, makes it all the more strange that he is not participating in it is that he seems nonetheless interested to see her. We find McKay hanging out at one of the doorways along the way of the entourage, trying to get a good look at her, craning his neck and probably standing on his tippy-toes and everything.

It is very obvious that McKay wanted to see her, and yet he is the only one of the senior staff, of the people that had been in the meeting where they had decided to go ahead with this, and even largely due to his excitement over the prospects -- and yet he is not allowed to come meet her. It is very clear that he is not allowed to be there, that Sheppard will not let him. While they have the hallways lined up with guards, the soldier standing in front of McKay and blocking his way with his finger on the trigger of his P-90 is symbolic of why he is being kept away, of why McKay had apparently had to sneak in to get peek. In fact, McKay is the first of them to get a look at her.

It is not as though McKay is not important enough to be included, that he has to hang out with the plebes watching from the sidelines while everyone else is invited to welcome her. It is also not a case of him having been too busy or otherwise occupied to attend because evidently he is not. It is clear that it had been Sheppard's decision to exclude McKay from the proceedings, not his. And it is not because he is being ostracized or what ever people think is happening here. McKay is an important asset, both to Atlantis in general and to Sheppard personally. We get confirmation here for the fact that Sheppard has a tendency to remove McKay out of the way of unnecessary risks.

Weir: I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir. Welcome to Atlantis.

The wraith queen saunters in with Michael and another wraith in tow, looking not unlike a drag queen. The welcoming committee is coming down the stairs to meet them, apparently having stayed on the Control Platform near the monitors up until it was time to meet with her personally, the Lanteans coming down as the wraith climb up as though to meet in the middle. As mentioned, Ronon and Teyla are both present for this, and you could argue that Ronon is there to secure Sheppard and Teyla is there because of her connection to the wraith and her personal connection to Michael. But then Caldwell is also present, the captain of the ship they are hoping is sheltering them from the hive, all of the key personnel here to meet up with her. Apart from McKay. It is no so much the absence of McKay that is peculiar as it is the presence of everyone else but him when he so obviously wanted to see her.

Note the way they come down the stairs with Sheppard walking slightly behind Weir and to the opposite side of her from the wraith. He has to go around her to come face to face with the queen. This means that they are going out of their way to show us that Sheppard is not putting his body between Weir and the wraith, that Sheppard is not guarding her with his life, is not offering up himself as a human shield to protect her. This is made all the more pertinent by the fact that there is an actual scene later where they make it clear that protecting one's superior is something to be expected from members of a leader's entourage, their companions. Later, when McKay has finally been allowed to meet the wraith personally with the apparent stipulation that no one lays a hand on him, they have the following exchange:

Dex: You don't touch him! McKay: He was guiding me down the hall, not sucking the life out of my shoulder! We are sorry. Say you're sorry! Wraith: That will not be necessary. He was protecting his superior. I would have done the same.

We are explicitly told that being protective of the one that is most important, most prized is instinctive behaviour to both the wraith and to humans. It is one of the things that is common to both species being that, according to Michael, humans are more like the wraith than they would like to admit. And we have seen that Sheppard is capable of being protective, of offering up his own body and his life in keeping others safe. We have seen him do it, after a fashion, with Norina in Inferno (S02E19) and genuinely with Avrid in Epiphany (S02E12). But most often we have seen him do it with McKay. McKay is the person Sheppard has an instinctive drive to protect with his own life, with whom he does not have to think about putting up his own body between him and danger. He does it unthinkingly because McKay is the most important thing in his life. And so we see him very obviously not put his body between the wraith queen and any of the people marching down the stairs by his side, even though we are able to see how on edge he is by how his hand lands on the handle of his gun, holding on to it like a security blanket.

And so Sheppard stands face to face with the queen and unlike the others -- possibly, although not certainly, excluding Ronon -- he has actually faced off with wraith queens before, and he does not exactly have warm and fuzzy memories about these previous encounters. We had learned previously that the queens are powerfully telepathic, and as the queen now looks around the gate room, likely the first wraith queen ever to set foot in it, we see how the soldiers lower their weapons as she looks at them. She may have compelled them to do it or they were just impressed by her sheer presence for, as a female of Sheppard's stature, she is indeed an impressive sight to behold.

Weir: My people are willing to work with some of your scientists, but no more than three wraith will be allowed on this base at any given time. Sheppard: They'll be subjected to extensive searches that we'll perform at random intervals. Any harmful weapons or materials found on your-- your fellow wraith...

Next, we find that the wraith queen has been escorted to Weir's office ("Really, your office?") where she is seated opposite Weir, not really like they would treat any foreign dignitary that they have usually brought into the meeting room but more like someone that had been brought in to be reprimanded. Weir and Sheppard seem to be laying down the law, recounting the conditions they have for this relationship to proceed. There are armed guards standing behind the wraith queen, not unlike there had been when they had allowed the Genii Ladon to come negotiate with them in Coup d'État (S02E17) but in contrast to that, Weir herself has agreed to sit down with her, a courtesy that she had not given the Genii. Weir is a world class diplomat and likely understands that, while they are taking some obvious precautions here, it is important to meet someone where they are for negotiations to bear fruit.

What is interesting is that Sheppard remains standing -- and many people have interpreted this as Sheppard "standing by" Weir, as though him standing next to her was some significant indicator of his feelings for her. However, observe how his pelvis is turned away from her like it always is, the masculine display of his assets here directed toward the wraith queen (not intended to entice her but to challenge, an attempt to measure up against her). Sheppard is keeping his hands on his hips but although his hands are akimbo like they had been when he caught up with Teyla earlier, they are now held lower and more loose on his hips, this posture emphasizing his... precision missile in a way that the earlier pose did not. While you can bet your bottom dollar that Sheppard is not sexually or romantically interested in the wraith queen, his energy is nonetheless directed toward her, she is the natural focus of his attention. Sheppard is also standing at the side of Weir's desk which forms a kind of a barrier between him and both ladies. Note also that Sheppard seems unable to force the words "your people" out of his mouth, having to amend it to "your fellow wraith." They are all struggling with this.

Sheppard: We'll consider it an act of aggression and immediately destroy your ship. Weir: We are also monitoring all of your transmissions... Wraith Queen: All we want is the retrovirus. It is the key to ending a civil war that could go on for centuries. Impose whatever conditions you wish. Let us begin.

Weir and Sheppard are laying out the conditions the Lanteans have for allowing any wraith into the city and, being that Sheppard is responsible for security, we can presume that most of these conditions and stipulations come from him, are precautions that he had insisted on taking. They are aware that this requires them to go out on a limb but they are once more faced with the same dilemma as McKay had faced in Trinity (S02E06) and Beckett in Michael (S02E18) of whether the potential rewards outweigh the risks.

We end the scene with Sheppard looking at the wraith with an inscrutable look on his face, possibly trying to weigh the risks in his mind, to go through everything they had thought of to see if there was something he had missed. The queen presents this as an opportunity to end a war, be that she is referring to one internal to the wraith, nonetheless managing to dangle a worm on the hook that looks very appetizing to all of them. At the same time, her reference to imposing conditions in order to end a strife may also remind Sheppard of something else, something more personal. Even though it seems clear that Sheppard and McKay have reconciled, we cannot be sure what had finally resolved the issues that had been keeping them apart. Perhaps one or both of them had had some conditions they had to impose, and we do see both of them make an effort to do things in a way that is considerate of the other's feelings in this episode. McKay staying away when it was not necessary for him to be present may have been one of them.

Continued in Pt. 6

[guardiandoll]

First Contact

{ This story takes place in the world of my original Guardian Class Combat Dolls post https://www.tumblr.com/guardiandoll/772673862516260864/have-you-ever-heard-of }

“Alright, you lot know the drill.” Roared Captain Witch Augustina Starscraper, her face aglow from the breaching-spell she was currently building between her fingers. “Group one, sweep for nodolls and bring them back to the ship. Group two, begin the retrieval of their cargo. Group three, watch over group two. I’m going to check the ship’s system logs for other possible target. Am I clear?”

“YES MISS CAPTAIN!” Roared back the loyal crew of dolls in front of her. Groups one and three were relatively small, made up of combat dolls of the clockwork variety. The second group was far larger and far more mixed however, composed of wooden, cloth, ceramic, and even a few rodolls-turned-dolls. The anticipation in the air was palpable, nothing made their witch more excited than a raid, and so nothing made them more excited either.

Augustina’s grin widened as her dolls reflected her own exhilaration back at her. So it continued, a bubbling, broiling static to the air as the Captain Witch energized her dolls and they energized her back. It was a self fulfilling cycle of exponential energy, the perfect source of fuel for the spell building ever larger between her hands. Most witch pirates still had to manually hack away at the hulls of the ships they raided with magic or machines or tools. But not her~

“BREACH!” Yelled Augustina as she turned from her dolls and pressed the compressed sphere of magic into the technocrat vessel’s hull. In equal measure both she and the hull were blown back, the only difference being she was caught the soft arms of her First Doll while what remained of that segment of hull ricochetted inside the ship. “How was that for a breach Precious?” she asked, still catching her breath from the casting and subsequent blast.

The doll holding her laughed softly, “You were amazing as always Miss Captain. Truly no other Captain Witch could compare.”

Augustina’s exhilarated grin twisted into a satisfied smirk when Precious replied, “ALRIGHT CREW, TO YOUR DUTIES.” She roared, still in her First Doll’s arms. “DOUBLE TEA FOR THE LOT OF YOU FOR A WEEK IF THERE ARE NO INJURIES!”

Another resounding cheer from her dolls followed as they all began to rush through the breach and into the ship. There was work to be done.

-

Shortly thereafter, Augustina (with Precious in tow) made her way to the bridge of the vessel. The real money was in the cargo, yes, but the flight and communications logs of these vessels often contained information that lead to future targets. This vessel had been no such exception, as the nodolls aboard this ship had recently exchanged a ping with another nodoll vessel headed in the opposite direction. Not something she could capitalize on, but certainly something that could be sold to another pirate witch for a share of the-

“Miss Captain, group one have missed their scheduled rendezvous.” Precious’s voice interrupted Augustina’s thoughts, causing the Captain Witch to turn to her First Doll.

“That’s strange…” with a flick of her wrist, a pocket watch on a chain tumbled from her dress sleeve before yo-yoing back into her hand and snapping open. “So they have.” Unconcerned, she chuckled and dropped the watch back into her sleeve. “Do you think they accidentally sealed themselves into a safe room again?”

“Who’s to-“ Precious’s voice paused as the power suddenly went out and the bridge became pitch-black. “say.”

A darkvision spell was a simple matter for Augustina, but not all of her dolls would be properly equipped for such an environment. What was going on? “We need to move, now. I don’t like this, I’ve never seen the nodolls do-“

Now it was her turn to get cut off, this time by the heavy crash of the bridge’s blast doors sealing. Several similar sounds, albeit much more faint could be heard in the distance. For the first time since starting this raid, there was worry on Augustina’s face.

-

“Breach” said Augustina, her voice firm but her volume fading as she was blown back into Precious’s arms for the 5th time today. The blast doors all across the ship had been opening and shutting unpredictably, clearly trying to block her path. When they refused to open, she’d had no choice but to blow through them. It was much easier than blowing through the ship’s hull… but it still wasn’t easy. The inside of her dress was getting uncomfortably sweaty, and she could feel herself getting weaker as she ran to where she was tracing group one to.

That had been the last one though, the last one before the room they were sealed in anyway. Heaving herself off of Precious, she walked up to the blast door and placed her palm flat on it. “Stand clear for-“ but before she could blast, the door opened itself.

-

Precious didn’t see what Augustina saw, instead only seeing its witch clutch a hand over her mouth and stumble backwards before turning and sprinting back to Precious.

“WE NEED TO MOVE, NOW. STRAIGHT TO THE CARGO HOLD.” The witch’s eyes were wide as she yelled, and Precious froze for a moment, utterly unaccustomed to such a look in its witch’s eyes. “GO” yelled Augustina, starting to run down the hall.

Without hesitation, Precious ran after its witch. What had she seen?

-

“BREACH”

“BREACH”

“BREACH”

Augustina was running herself ragged, slamming her hands into door after door. Each time Precious would catch and push her forward, allowing the pair to proceed at a strong pace. There had been a close call while falling through an elevator shaft, but a well timed double-breach had taken them through the top and out the bottom of the elevator car. Breach after breach, her mana dwindled, but she couldn’t stop, not until she reached

The cargo hold.

Like the rest of the ship it was pitch black, hard to make anything out. She’d long since dropped her darkvision spell, instead relying on Precious’s eyes in the name of conserving mana. “Precious, details please.”

“Group three is… down. Group two, unconfirmed.” Replied Precious, each word tumbling out of its mouth just a little slower than usual as its gaze rolled over the broken bodies of the combat dolls. “There was a fight, one damaged nodoll body in the rafters. Nothing else of note.”

“Fuck!” Wheezed Augustina between labored breaths. She was drenched in sweat, her mana reserves were low, she couldn’t keep this up much longer. “When we find who did this, I’m going to rip their heart out!”

-

Precious winced, the anguish in Augustina’s voice was palpable. But what could it do? The situation was truly dire, and it could not fault its witch for mourning the loss of her dolls. But now wasn’t the time, and so it turned to face Augustina, prepared to advise a full retreat.

-

“I’m going to rip out their heart and-“ Augustina’s threats were cut off as Precious grabbed her by the front of her dress and swung her around behind it. “Precious what the hell are you-“

She could only see its eyes, two glowing blue orbs. Thoughtless, calculating, it observed her back. Whatever it was, Precious had undoubtedly just saved her life. “What are you?!” She screamed at it.

But it did not reply. It just stared at her, with those accursed, unfeeling eyes.

“We’ll be leaving now. You’ve destroyed the crew. We surrender.” Interjected Precious calmly, and while Augustina attempted to voice a rebuttal, the eyes in front of her spoke first.

“You will never threaten this ship, this cargo, or this crew, ever again.” Its words were flat and emotionless, but delivered with absolute certainty.

“Never aga-“ Precious began to agree before the thing dove at it.

Augustina bit the bullet and reupped her darkvision spell just in time to see it lunge. It looked like a nodoll, but was nearly a full foot taller. Its frame was slightly bulkier, sturdier and well armored. Soft bursts of light betrayed the microboosters on its body, providing the terrifying speed at which it moved. Whatever it was, she’d never seen anything like it.

All of these observations happened in a moment, but they were not all that happened in that moment. Precious’s mangled body fell to the ground in the next. Though it had drawn its blade to defend the Captain Witch, the thing had swept aside Precious’s sword with one hand before smashing its mace down on Precious’s head with the all the ease of someone sweeping aside a blade of grass and then smashing an egg.

One moment, that felt like a million, as Augustina watched the first doll she’d ever brought into becoming fall upon the floor.

Destroyed in one blow.

Crushed between the physical, spiritual, and emotional exhaustion, Augustina’s knees wobbled and threatened to cave beneath her.

And then it ended her anguish.

-

The ship was guarded

The cargo was guarded

The crew was guarded

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hi! You wrote my clone exchange gift so beautifully I cannot resist a birthday opportunity 🥹

Name: Elara, but please feel free to make it a reader insert if that suits you better, I rarely use my name when reading or writing

Birthday: February 2nd

Timezone: EST

Character: Fives

Celebration Details:

- I haven't really celebrated my birthday for quite some time, so any kind of celebration or plans made by a loved one would probably turn me into a weepy blubbering fool. I think I'd like to be surprised with a small party at least once in my life.

- A bit of a happy medium when it comes to attention, I prefer to celebrate life and the people I've been given rather than celebrating myself. Small parties with close friends and family are what I love, full of games and good food.

- I'd love some romance, SFW but kisses are more than welcome.

- I've never been one for grand gestures, I'm not a huge fan of being in the public eye/under the spotlight around a lot of people. I love meeting new people, but large crowds or being in a spotlight with a crowd is a great way to make me uncomfortable lol. Smaller gestures or subtle things make my heart melt. I find that I grow closer to the people I love through everyday mundane things, little notions that make life go smoother on the day to day.

- Gifts are never expected but always appreciated. Again I haven't truly celebrated my birthday in a while so any little thing that someone gets for me, whether they think I'd like it or simply because it reminded them of me, would make my day.

Please reach out if you have any questions! Thank you in advance 🥰

Happy Birthday Elara / @writersnook11!

Your job working for the GAR was an exhausting one, but it had brought you some new and cherished friendships with the clone soldiers. Even long stints of overtime were made bearable by a captain popping his head in to say hi, or a pilot sending you a silly message. And when a certain charismatic ARC trooper paid you attention? You couldn't stop smiling for days.

You weren't expecting anything today, not having celebrated your birthday in a while. Fives, on the other hand, hadn't been able to stop thinking about that fact ever since you'd let it slip a few rotations ago. He and his brothers didn't have birthdays; he was low-key jealous about it. So he was determined to find a way to help you celebrate. You are surprised when he stops by your office with a handful of his brothers in tow. They're here to help you finish your work early. You certainly can't complain about the extra help and put them to work, making sure Fives is right next to you. You both pass secret looks and blushes; it's a wonder you get any work done at all, to be honest. But you finish up at a good time and then it's on to Fives's next surprise.

He takes you to an arcade a few levels below Coruscant; it's outdated and a little neglected, but it's a hidden gem that the clones love visiting on their R&R's. It's a slow night so you practically have the place to yourselves as you play every single game. Fives collects all of the prize tickets and lets you pick out a toy from the shop. You're looking so happy beneath the neon lights and he thinks he's picking up a good vibe, so he leans in to give you one more gift...

🌙 Master Master List | 🎈Request your own birthday drabble

[scapingthebottomofthebarrel]

Hey I don't know if you're still taking requests but if you are could I request Neville X Harry's year! ravenclaw quidditch captain! Reader . Maybe it's the school year after the war and between his responsibilities as head boy, her responsibilities as quidditch captain, the trauma from the war and studying for the N.E W.T.S, they're fighting a lot but then one day he sees her asleep in the library and carries her back to one of their common rooms to take care of her and they makeup.

2nd Try at 7th Year

“Alright that’s it for today. Great practice everyone!” You announce before leading the team back to the locker rooms. It’s weird being back on the quidditch pitch after everything that’s happened. How can you all play out there when so many of your classmates are gone? You shake the morbid thoughts from your head before you start to spiral. You’re the team captain. You have to keep it together.

“Hey! How was practice?” You turn around with a big grin on your face when you hear Neville’s voice.

“It was good. It still feels weird to be back.” All he can do is nod. There have been countless nights where you tow exchanged messages until the sun was rising because neither of you could sleep. Neville gives your hand a squeeze.

“I’ll wait for you out here then we can go eat dinner together.” He says with a small smile.

“I can’t. I have to study for my transfiguration N.E.W.T.S.” You sigh. It feel like you two never see each other any more and when you do it’s endless fights and now, the one day in what feels like forever, when you two are both in a good mood and as well rested as you can be you have to study.

“Can’t it wait?” Neville looks so disappointed you feel your heart crack.

“I’ve been putting it off because of practice. I really need to study or I’m going to fail.”

“Ok. It’s fine. I’ll see you later.” He turns away and starts to make his way back to the castle. Internally you’re screaming at yourself to go after him, but your feet just carry you to the locker room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m tired!” Neville says forcefully.

“That’s why I’m not suggesting a hike! We can just sit together and read or something!” You reply through gritted teeth.

“Oh so just because you now have time for me I should drop everything?” He huffs

“That’s not fair, we've both been busy and you know it.” You shoot back. You don’t know how it came to this. Both of you ready to scream all because of what? You know Neville’s tired. You’re tired too, but it feels like you're both drifting away from each other. You watch Neville take a deep breath and rub his eyes.

“How about I write down the times I’m free and you can look at it and we can work out some time to spend together.” He gives what you assume was supposed to be a smile but looks more like a grimace. Your only response is a small nod before turning and leaving before he can even hand you the list.

You can’t remember the last time you two spent actual time together. You’re both just so busy. Angry tears begin to blur your vision. Your seventh year wasn’t supposed to be like this. You’re all supposed to be going to Hogsmead together and having parties and doing stupid things that you’d be too old for soon. So many of your friends decided not to return to hogwarts to finish out their seven years. So many of them can’t return. You fairly wipe at your eyes. There’s no use crying. It won’t change anything. This is reality. This is life after the war. You answer the riddle and trudge into the Ravenclaw common room decking laying down is the only real option right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the last two weeks you’ve seen Neville three times and each time it feels like it could come to blows. It seems that you’ve both decided that avoiding the other is your best option. You can’t fight if you don’t talk right?

Your brought back to reality when your foot slips in the mud and you nearly fall.

“Why did I schedule practice today?” You mutter to yourself at you continue on your way to the pitch. When you get there everyone looks like they’ve slept as much as you have. “We should just cancel, yeah?” You ask. Your team eagerly nods. “Alright. Have a good evening everyone.”

On your way back to the castle you see Neville sitting under a tree looking at plants. You want so badly to go over to him and say something, but you don’t think your heart can handle another argument so you keep walking. You figure you might as well get some studying in and make your way to the library.

You’ve been sitting at your usual table in the library for four hours and you feel like you’ve retained nothing.

“I’m doomed…” you groan to yourself. You stand up and stretch, deciding a few laps around the library will do you some good. You take in the smell of the books and the soft whispers of your fellow students as you make your way between the shelves. You thoughts inevitably drift to Neville. Why can’t you just talk to him? What’s happened to you two? A war you think bitterly. When you finally go back to your table to slump into your seat and reopen your charms textbook. “I’m going to learn something even if it kills me.” You tell yourself resolutely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What feels like mere minutes later you shoot up in what is definitely not your chair in the library. You reach into your pocket for your wand as you look around.

“Oh you’re awake!” A cherry voice says from the doorway.

“Neville?” You ask after you’ve taken a moment to process.

“I was looking everywhere for you and finally found you passed out in the library. I’ve no clue how long you slept in there but you’ve been asleep in here for two and a half hours.” He says nonchalantly.

“I’ve missed you.” You’re eyes are now bleary from tears instead of sleep. If Neville is surprised by your sudden shift in emotions he doesn’t show it.

“I know. I’ve missed you too.” He says as he comes to lay in the bed with you.

“Why can’t we stop fighting?” You nearly sob.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the stress. I mean, I’m head boy, you’re your house's quidditch captain, we both have N.E.W.T.S, and we’re adjusting to Hogwarts post war.” Neville wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

“I don’t like this version of us.” You mutter grumpily. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Neither do I.” You both sit in silence for a moment wrapped in each other's arms.

“I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I want to try to make more time for you and not spend it arguing.” You finally say as you look up at Neville’s face.

“I’d like to do that too.” He kisses your forehead and pulls you impossibly closer.

“We’ll be ok one day yeah?” You ask almost nervously.

“Yeah. We will be.” He says with a resolute nod. In that moment that’s enough. You know there will be more fights. That you’ll struggle to have time for each other at some points, but if that means there will be more times like this where nothing else matters but the two of you you’re pretty sure you can handle it.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Yeah I'm making a backlog- so here's the next next chapter snippet

((ooc: someone pls fast forward the invention of Benedrill into the dark ages- bc I don't know how Asha is going to survive this chapter. Thanks.))

Life certainly had a funny way of roping Asha into unexpectedly unfortunate situations. 

The most she’d hoped for today was to avoid trouble, yet here she was, comfortably seated on Captain Silver’s ship  undergoing the interrogation of the century.

“So let me get this straight,” Silver started. “Ye said that ye were sailing-,” he gestured to the both of them.

“Yes sir,” Asha nodded, trying to ignore the star who seemed more interested in the gathering that was happening outside the captain's cabin than anything else.

“And that ye were aggressively attacked by and I quote- silent hooded figures in dark clothing who sent you down the Salcona river? Is that right?” 

She nodded, watching as Silver exchanged glances with Bjorn and her grandfather.

“Dark clothes and hoods. Are the goths invading again?” Her grandfather asked, promptly breaking the silence. 

“Huh I didn’t know they moved on from the Roman Empire,” Bjorn murmured. “What a day to leave the weapons at home…”

“What? Saba no! We weren’t attacked by goths!” She cried, nearly startling the star as she rose to her feet. 

“Then who attacked ye?”

“I….” She paused glancing to the star for any form of assistance or help, but alas he only shrugged before turning his attention back towards the open window. His hair had seemingly grown longer. Some thing that she’d pointlessly noticed it would only do after the star had shifted.“We don’t know,” she admitted. “But what we do know is that they were dangerous Saba.”

“And from the looks of things, they probably aren’t new here either,” her grandfather nodded as he slowly eased himself down into a chair. “Wouldn’t be the first time something strange has carried over from the days of olde,” he commented before settling his gaze on the star. “But I’ll see what I can do for you. I might have a few friends who know a thing or two about this.”

She smiled, relief filling her as for once in her life, she actually felt grateful for the suspect acquaintances her grandfather had.  “Thank you Saba-,” 

A sharp tap on the door caught her attention as Silver leaned back and called out, “Come in.”

The door quickly opened as the familiar sight of Lady Allard entered the room. 

“Good afternoon gentleman,” she politely greeted with a smile.

“Good afternoon your ladyship,” they’d answered in tow as they nodded in acknowledgment. 

“My apologies for the intrusion, I hope I’m not interrupting your conversation-,” she started as Asha felt her jaw slightly drop. Delphine was apologizing?  She knew the noblewoman had promised to be better, but this? This was nearly unfathomable, and it seemed as if she weren’t alone in that thought as well. The fleeting looks of surprise on the faces of the elderly men were priceless before Silver regained his composure and shook his head.

“No, no, yer fine! We were just finishing up-,” he waved to them dismissively. “if ya need em, then they’re yours!”

“Ah, that’s good! We were about to have a little gathering, in a few minutes! Why don’t you come and join us Asha I’m sure you and, and-” she quieted as she glanced to the star, looking as if she was nearly at a loss for words.

“Cepheus,” he interjected with a charming smile that could’ve easily disarmed anyone in Rosas.

“Oh, you’re Cepheus!” Lady Allard blinked in surprise as the star nodded. 

‘It’s what she calls me-,” he glanced towards Asha, smiling as if he were currently enjoying a joke she had no part in.

“Ah! I see. It’s nice to have a name behind a face…you know my apprentices haven’t been able to stop talking about you since you’ve arrived. Cepheus this-, Cepheus that-, for a second I was almost afraid they’d made you up as a part of some inside joke!”

“Really?” the star grinned as he glanced to Asha who was doing everything in her power to not roll her eyes. “Do you hear that Asha? My reputation proceeds me!”

“That’s a weak brag, but okay,” she grumbled under her breath before crossing her arms. Silver and Bjorn snickered as her grandfather sighed.

“Anyways,” Lady Allard waved her hand as if dismissing her thoughts, “But since you’re real and fairly new, why don’t you join us? The gathering is to make everyone new feel welcome and it’ll be fun!”

“Fun?” The star repeated, already looking more than willing to accept her offer. “We could use some fun!”

Could they? Sure they’d almost been assassinated a few hours ago, but there was still work to be done, work that did not involve ‘fun’. She still needed to decipher those manuscripts, and if the city’s discoveries had meant anything then the work that she had waiting for her wasn’t diminishing any time soon. Maybe if she read her father’s journals she could-

“C’mon Asha!” the star called, pulling her out of her thoughts as she felt his warm hand rest on her shoulder. “Don’t you want to go?”

“Go? Go where?”

“To the gathering at the deck! It’s going to be fun!”

“Oh…You can go on without me-,” she started, trying to ignore the look of displeasure that had crossed her grandfather’s face. “ I have some work to do.”

“Work?” the star frowned as if she’d said something distasteful. “Asha you’ve been working all week-,”

“Because, unfortunately, I’ve only scratched the surface of a month’s worth of I have a month’s worth of work,” she interjected, as she began to dig through her waterproof satchel for some paper and writing utensils. She had a feeling that she’d need to take notes as she read her father’s journal. When her search for the writing utensils had come up empty, she’d focused her efforts towards the spare desk in Silver’s cabin, searching the desk’s draws as she spoke,  “Which cannot be done in a week, so-,” 

“I’m sure you’re very benevolent and altruistic sovereign would be nothing short of amazingly merciful if you took a break, hmm?”  came the star’s voice as his hand rested on the desk’s surface a few inches away from her. 

She looked up, partially surprised at his persistence “A break?” she repeated, looking from his hand to his face.

“A well deserved one from the look of things,” he spoke. “Don’t you think you deserve to have something nice after the week you’ve had Asha?”

The retort had died on her tongue as she’d taken in his words. The prouder part of her had bristled at his words and the subtle revelation of her recent series of misfortune. But try as she might she couldn’t muster up the energy within herself to snap at him, not when she’d seen the subtle note of concern within his eyes.

Did…did he actually care about her? 

It was such an unfair question to ask. But she’d remember when she’d thought the king and the prince had cared. She’d even entertained the idea that she had been the prince’s friend…and yet he couldn’t bring himself to fully trust her, even when Rosas’ future had been on the line. 

But she supposed she couldn’t blame them. 

They’d been royalty, magical royalty who had no obligation to care for the needs and feelings of a non-magical peasant as long as they’d fulfilled their duties. No amount of frustration or disappointment she’d felt at their hands would ever be able to discredit how much good they’d achieved for the people of Rosas.

But the star had done some good, hadn’t he? He’d done it for her, and he’d probably keep doing it until he’d return, disappearing from her life forever. 

She took in an uneven breath, easing the heavy feeling that had weighted itself on her chest as her fingers slowly slid off the desk. 

Slowly, as she’d forced her eyes to meet his. She knew she was going to regret this, but save for her sanity, what else did she have to lose?

“I hate it when you’re rightt,” she relented, as the star’s smile grew. “Fine…I’ll go.”

“What?!” Bjorn, Silver and her grandfather said in unison as Valentino pleeated in shock. Lady Allard could only look on in confusion before shrugging.

“Do me ears deceive me?” Silver started as he scratched his ears. “Or did Asha just turn down the opportunity to overwork herself?!”

“Honestly…I don’t even know,” she confessed, before turning to the very satisfied looking star. “Come on, let’s go before I come to my senses.”

“Of course,” he called, as the pair followed Lady Allard out of the captain’s cabin and onto the deck.

“Doomed…” Asha heard her grandfather mutter beneath his breath before the cabin’s door closed. “My bloodline is doomed.”

Asha wasn’t sure what he’d meant by that, but she’d decided to focus on the more pressing matters at hand as she’d made their way to the surprisingly crowded deck. People both familiar and not were walking around, happily chattering while the band continued to play.

“Do you like the decoration?” Lady Allard smiled, as she’d gestured to the softly glowing lanterns that hung overhead. “We decided to take a page out of your book for it!”

“They’re beautiful,” she nodded, appreciating the streamers that had also decorated the deck’s interior as well. “How did you get this done in time?”

“It was a miracle really,” Lady Allard admitted. “But Alina  was exceptionally helpful with telling us how to decorate!”

“Mrs. Alina?” Cepheus repeated, before looking to Asha. “Wasn’t she one of your teachers?”

“My dance teacher, yes,” Asha nodded. “I’d nearly forgotten that she wasn’t originally from Rosas.”

“She’s not?”

“No,” Asha shook her head. “I think she and her family left their country when she was a little girl and ended up here, in Rosas.” She glanced around the crowd, catching sight of her teacher in question who was happily chatting with several people. 

There was something ironic about it all, she thought, while watching the crowd pass by. So many people here were celebrating the growth of the kingdom and it’s new arrivals, all whilst being blissfully unaware of the kingdom’s impending doom that lay ahead.

Turning to the source of the impending doom, she’d started, “Hey Cepheus-,”

“Hmm?” 

“If you had to rate Rosas on a scale of 1 to 10 stars, with one being the worst and ten being the best, where would you place it?”

He quirked a brow. “Rate Rosas? On what exactly? Because if we’re talking about the interior design of your castle, I’m going to need a number much lower than 1-,”

“No, no, no silly, I’m talking about in terms of the people, the architecture, the culture and community, you know things like that. What would you rate it?”

“Hmm,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve only been here for a few days, but all things considered, I do enjoy your food, and your people are rather pleasant-,” he paused, waving to a small crowd of admiring girls. “So all in all, I think I’d give it seven me’s.”

“Seven you’s-,” she’d paused, scowling at the star’s wordplay. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I don’t recall making that claim-,” he started.

“No, but seriously, only seven?!”

“I think seven is a very good number-,”

“But why not ten?! Isn’t Rosas perfect? I mean look at it!” she motioned to the island in the distance. “A lot of people live here, we don’t pay taxes, which is honestly amazing. We’re progressive, How in the world isn’t that perfect?:

“I should be the one asking you that,” he started as he’d leaned against the ship’s nearby hull. “After all, I wouldn’t be here to grant a ‘wish for more’ if this place was that perfect.”

“...Fine so maybe it’s not perfect! But that doesn’t mean that it’s not great for what it is and shouldn’t be around for centuries to come, right?!”

The star halted in his tracks, briefly staring at her thoughtfully before speaking, “You know Asha, if I didn’t know any better, I’d nearly be tempted to think that you’re trying to convince me to stay here” he teased as she quickly shook her head. 

“No. Absolutely not!” she’d stared at him suspiciously. “Are you trying to get on my nerves?”

“Me? Asha I would never-,”

Not this again, she facepalmed, briefly glancing past the star to Lady Allard who, to her credit, was doing her best to not ask or laugh at Asha’s misery. 

“Why don’t you two take a seat over here?” Lady Allard asked, pointing to two spare crates that had served as seats. “I’ll try and get you guys some blankets.”

“Thank you,” Asha called, watching as the noblewoman’s figure disappeared into the crowd of people. She’d nearly suspected that the noblewoman was doing everything she could to get away from the strange pair. Not that she could blame her of course. It had seemed as if the star had now redirected all his energy into aggravating her. 

“Are you cold?” Cepheus had asked, leaning towards her.

“Not yet,” she sighed as they’d taken their seat. “But wet clothes at this time of day does no one favors.”

He hummed, simply waving his hand as she’d felt all the dampness of her clothes disappear. “There, is that better?”

She nodded, a little shocked at how quickly he’d done it as he quietly shrugged off his cape, placing it within his lap before he’d pulled out a pair of sewing needles.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the cape,” he replied as he quickly threaded the needle. “Pity it couldn’t burn more so I could remake it from scratch, but I suppose I’ll have to make do with the damage that has been done.”

“You’d really remake it from scratch if it had been burnt?”

[the-bitter-woods]

A mysterious cat and her bodyguard appear, seeking a place to stay.

(Short story under the read more!)

“Captain!”

Swift turned to see Kiwi approaching, with two cats in tow. One walked with her head and tail high, while the other trailed behind her like a shadow.

“I met these two by the river. They wanted to speak with you.”

“Thank you, Kiwi. You may go.”

Kiwi nodded and turned to leave.

“So what brings you here?”

The cat in front stepped forward, dipping her head respectfully. “My name is Clover, and my companion is Skip. We’re in need of work.” Her voice was high and clear, with the air of someone who was used to being listened to. “We’re willing to do anything, if you’ll allow us a place to stay. I only ask that we work the same job.”

“What is it that you’re running from?” Swift asked.

A beat of silence passed.

Clover didn’t move, but her posture stiffened. Behind her, Skip bristled. “I’m sorry?”

“The cats in my crew come from all sorts of backgrounds. Your business is your own, but I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into if I accept you into my village. While danger is a part of our lives, I’m not interested in putting my home at risk without good cause.”

“We won’t cause any trouble for you and yours,” Clover promised. “We just need a place to lie low for a while, that’s all. We’ll be out of your fur as soon as we can."

“And does your friend speak for the both of you, Skip?” Swift asked, looking at the cat who had been silent this whole time.

He held their gaze determinedly. “She does.”

“Alright, then.” Swift studied them both carefully. “You both look like good, strong cats. You can work in the mines with me. We’re running through materials faster than we can keep up.”

Clover and Skip exchanged a look. Underground, away from sight or sound or smell. They’d be hidden.

“Any issues with that?”

“No,” Clover said quickly. “That actually works well for us.”

“Good. I’ll give you the day to get settled. You’ll both start tomorrow.”

“Thank you. We’ll make sure to earn our keep.”

“You’re doing us a service, really. We’ve been needing more paws on deck for quite some time.”

“A stroke of luck for all of us, then.”

“Indeed.”

[imagine-silk]

I've been playing TOW nonstop ough

Could you please write romantic yandere headcanons for Vicar Max or Phineas Welles (for both if you feel like it???) with a GN or male Captain? (Specifically loyal to Phineas) Those two make me feel insane 🥺 me when old men: 😳😳😳

Thank you <3

》Me also when old men: ⸝⸝⸝o⸝⸝⸝o⸝⸝⸝ Been playing Veilguard and I'm so in love with Emmerich.

【Vicar Max】

When he joins the crew for selfish goals he was all to happy to use Hawthorne to get it done. He wasn't lying when he told him having another adult on the team would be for the best, he just didn't know that would impact him as well. Sure there was Nyoka but she was just as immature as the others. He found himself seeking the company of the only person on the Unreliable he doesn't want to strangle (the exception being Parvati but she's a baby to him). This is ultimately his decent into madness considering he's trapped in space for long periods of time surrounded with people he deems incompetent. Then there's the one who is an adult like him, meaning not stupid.

He never needs to baby Hawthorne or check himself, he can swear and bitch around him. Hawthorne takes everything he does in strides and once he finds out Max's real intentions he almost never cares. "You gotta do what you gotta do. Even if I don't agree with it." That nonchalant attitude was rather attractive to him.

Of course the Architect would never have allowed him to act on this sinful lust and pleasure, the insatiable need to have him. If Hawthorne never asked then it's not in the Great Plan for it to happen. However things change after his enlightenment. He's abandoned the Plan in exchange for autonomy and peace. Now he's more comfortable pursuing what he wants

It starts off light. Hawthorne heading out? Max does too for one reason or another. Does Hawthorne need company? No? Then Max needs his. When Felix mentions something about the captain being hot like a protagonist Max reminds him Hawthorne is older than him, meaning Felix was too young for him. And it stays there. He never leaves the crew and is almost always at his side like a loyal second in command. He wouldn't care if the others died but Hawthorne is attached to them so if it's insisted he supposes.

He will would go to the other side of the galaxy to stay with him.

【Phineas Welles】

This is a man who is alone and likes to be alone, very different from being lonely. He would never seek out people if it didn't effect him and it took the universal government to get him to do just that. And he keeps his distance as much as he can, just gives Hawthorne directions and leaves him to do it. But Hawthorne didn't like that and started going to his hideout. He didn't appreciate it but it got him to keep running around to get rid of the board so sacrifices were due. He didn't expect to actually enjoy the company. He still doesn't like others but he makes an exception for Hawthorne.

Turns out Hawthorne was a fellow scientist or at least working under one and had college education. Phineas was self taught so they knew about the same information. Hawthorne was able to teach him even more, practical things you don't learn in a textbook, and Phineas was able to recap what was missed in the decades he was frozen. He respected the exchange of information without judgment.

It would be so easy to just lock Hawthorne in with him but the board needed to be dealt with and neither of them were safe until they were taken out of the equation. But he did prepare for after that happened. He's very flexible with his morals so he's not very concerned about it.

He doesn't say anything about his plans and he doesn't ask Hawthorne if he'd like to stay with him. He just continues to indulge him when he visits and asked the crew to not come inside so they don't 'accidentally poison themselves after touching the wrong thing'. Then the long awaited day comes when the colony starts to get back on track about how humanity moves on and the people of the Hope are free. After that Hawthorne is basking in the celebration glow and is immediately place in the glass room. Phineas doesn't even ask, just explains he's just not going to let him leave in any way, shape or form.

He assures Hawthorne everything is accounted for and that his job was done. Now all they had to do was enjoy the time they had together.