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#Apparently two characters just need to be on the same planet now huh

whywhatswrongwithblue · 8 months

Text

DW REWATCH

S1E1 ROSE

When Rose Tyler meets a mysterious stranger called the Doctor, her life will never be the same again. Soon she realises that her mum, her boyfriend and the whole of Earth are in danger. The only hope for salvation lies inside a strange blue box.

1. LOVE this opening. Such a great bedroom hahah. Perfectly messy and pink—makes me wonder what t2r’s shared bedroom must look like now!

2. What does Jackie do for a living? I know it’s canon (or fanon?) that she’s a hairdresser but do we actually ever see her working as one?

3. Who’s Derek? And why does Rose think a mannequin prank would be up his lane? RUN. Such a great meet cute 😭😭😭😭 these two are married now you guys!!!!!!!

4. ‘Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.  That makes sense. Well done. 🥺🥺 nothing just the Doctor always appreciating the insight Rose brings🥺🥺

5. WILSON’S DEAD

6. ‘So, I'm going to go up there and blow them up, and I might well die in the process, but don't worry about me. No, you go home. Go on. Go and have your lovely beans on toast.’ ohhhhh he wants her to join him so bad 😭 the poor guy. This is right after he’s destroyed his entire planet and there’s just SOMETHING about Rose he sees, huh? 😭🥺 also ’Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life.’ Such a great line!

7. TARDIS appearance!

8. ‘Honestly, it's aged her. Skin like an old bible. Walking in now you'd think I was her daughter.’ oh my God Jackie Tyler I have missed you. Imagine your mum reacting to you almost getting blown up like THIS though 🤣 yikes!

9. Rose doesn’t tell Mickey about the Doctor—no matter how ridiculous the plastic plot sounds she believes him, even if it is unconsciously at the moment

10. All the calls Jackie is getting one after the other insinuate a pretty closely knit neighbourhood, doesn’t it? All these people know where Rose works and are concerned enough to call up. Imagine how traumatic the sudden shift to Pete’s World must’ve been for Jackie—I know she’s got the parallel version of Bev but it’s not the same, and it must’ve taken a WHILE to adjust to everything.

11. “The airs and graces” comment. So much to be dissected here! Jackie’s relationship with herself and with her daughter implied very heavily in this one line. She seems to be jealous, even.

12. They have a cat flap! Rose confirmed cat person moment (1). The Doctor waiting outside the flat xD. Talk about picking up strays🥺

13. The dialogue is so damn gooood. And Christopher’s delivery is so endearing

14. Jackie hitting on the Doctor!!!!! Need tentoo to bring this up ASAP. She’s his mother in law😭

15. Staircase shot is incredible. Love the Sort of, yeah❤️ bit. Also love how the Doctor repeatedly checks on how she’s handling the information (*Are you alright? Do you believe me?*)—however unconsciously he’s doing it, he IS checking her suitability as a potential companion 🥺

16. Mickey SMH. Also apparently he doesn’t wash his dishes 🤣

17. Loveee Clive. RTD’s writing is so immersive, it really makes the whole world come alive. These side characters add so much depth to the story—something sorely missing in the Moffat and Chibnall eras.

18. THE WHEELIE BIN. I always forget how fucking ridiculous this episode is until I rewatch it 🤣 also lord Rose is so uninvested in this relationship. P-P-PIZZA will always be one of my fav lines

19. The infamous Jimmy Stone! I love how we’re given the one line about him and it’s inspired thousands of fics. Rose considering completing her A Levels here—would that be something she’d be interested in doing in Pete’s World?

20. TARDIS!!!!! Doomsday theme begins here 😓😓 love how the Doctor is judging how easily she can accept his alienness—he claims to be done with human companions every time but he is undoubtedly impressed by Rose. Also find it incredibly interesting he didn’t even think about Mickey being dead. This, contrasted with other alien lives (including the Daleks, sometimes) that the Doctor seems to value…is an intriguing juxtaposition. Is there a little simmering jealousy of the boyfriend already? Is he slightly unable to look at consequences of actions beyond his own? He has just come off of a genocide at this moment

21. Mickey’s mother! Bit of a mistake here, we learn that he was raised by his grandma in *Father’s Day*

22. Lots of planets have a North!!!

23. I always found it funny that Rose, who seemed so upset about Mickey a second ago, is now holding hands with Nine and running down the bridge lmfao. They really are very alike in their love for the thrill.

24. ‘Yeah, that was always a possibility. Keep him alive to maintain the copy.’ You knew that and you never said?  Can we keep the domestics outside, thank you?’ hmmm. Jealousy, perhaps? Or a disregard for lives he doesn’t believe are at the same level as that of higher beings? As much as he rejected the Time Lords, he is a product of his origin, and has quite a condescending view of humans

25. Shunt off. God, I love you RTD

26. The Nestene Consciousness is alarmed when it recognises that he is a Time Lord. Later in the show, it’s implied that the Time Lords were almost, if not as bad as the Daleks were, during the Time War.

27. RIP Clive 🕊️ fingers crossed it’s your cameo we’re getting in the 60th

28. Rose! My beloved! Bronze medalist! This screencap in particular is very Bad Wolf

29. I honestly can’t wrap my mind around people who say Rose was wrong for going with the Doctor. He came back for her!!!

30. The perfect opening episode. Extrapolation is done so elegantly and we even get a sense of how absurd the show can get. 10/10, and one of my favourite episode 1s!

#dw rewatch: s1 #ninth doctor #rose tyler #ninerose #nine x rose #rtd #meta

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baekhvuns · 2 years

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Literally Park Seonghwa your Carat card is getting revoked idc you had to practice and had no time 😡 us trying to interfere with the universe so LSH and PSH end up in the same place at the same time

Yes kids get some education and stfu, Baek has 387484 fics to write she needs to focus! <3 no bestie, compared to the stage Taeyong, the one from my dream was a sweetheart, he told me to be careful after all skjdjshdjsnss. My dreams are weird??? Tell me about it 😅 But you didn't steal from the shop? Weak, me and TY are disappointed

FURRIES?!? 🤨🤨🤨🤨

The Supernatural commentary where he watches the 1st and last episodes of shows, the SPN one is not new though. Pretty sure After makers didn't care, cause they knew hardcore fans would eat this shit up 😭 at least fookin Trevaaaaahh was in it, though he apparently disappeared quickly

The way their lore references so many books and movies I like, me becoming an Atiny was a siiiiiign! They were so cute today, I'm still ??? why they got that speshal stageu performance like they were the only ones doing that with an old song that got viral kudiednhsiejebshs not complaining but helllooooo?

Meets and greets in the shower 💀 tbh can't blame him, showers are a process for me as well

The placement of the piercing? What's going on there lmaoooo

I mean HIY does have a story that's the thing, but it's connected to miss ma'am and sure we got some glimpses of his past, but it's not enough... like I'm trying not to dislike him and maybe under different circumstances I'd find it cute (I still do to a certain degree), but it's becoming very predictable. Not too spoil too much, but basically she doesn't always know how to take care of herself I get it, but he's like "I'll do this and that for you" at times he doesn't respect her boundaries and I'm like BOOOOOOY JUST LEAVE HER BE SHE'S AN ADULT. But then she seeks trouble/trouble finds her and she's calling him to save the day 🙄 and the 2nd love interest... I knew they'd go that way 🔫 she's definitely not into him, but he's annoying af

Lmaoooo that was quick, of course you're doing MR PARK 🤦🏼‍♀️ time to rebrand and call yourself miss seongs

I don't think I had a dream featuring mr Kim, maybe I don't remember I deffo remember the two nights in a row JK ones even though he wasn't the main character. But he won't leave me alone also the amount of times I saw videos of Taehyung being goooooone and pole dancing at that party 😆 man's doing too much, first smoking now this. Some fragile fans ARE NOT happy and it makes me laugh 😭😭😭😭

Anyways ANOTHER Seonghwa fic jdudgdnsjwgdjshaha that's insanity luvvvvv and I get it. I actually had a talk with one if my friends who got bias wrecked by Hwa in the concert, but is basically the only one among her friends who doesn't bias him, she's surrounded by Shitstars 😅 maybe it's time to give in... I really thought we got after the concert, but sadly not yet. It's the one who dreamt about Hwa with loooooooong hair though

BESTIE I'M YELLING ONE IF MY FRIENDS LOOKED UP MY GOVERNMENT ASSIGNED NAME AND THE RULING PLANET IS MARS 😬😬😬😬 - DV 💖

hi hello!!

EXACTLY HOW DARE U SKIP THE CONCERT 🔫 LMFAOOOO I IMAGINE US LIKE THIS

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 omg are ur birds okay today jfbwkdhek hope they get food somewhere so they got stuck eating it and u were left alone 🤚🏼✨ BESTIE I DIDNT STEAL IDK WHAT HAPPENED FBWNFB LMFAOO 😭😭😭 U AND TY WOULD DEF STEAL HUH 😭

FURRIES?!? 🤨🤨🤨🤨

OHHHHHH YEAHHH I RMR OKOK yeah no bc why did the production value just go whomp whomp 😭😭 + they’re releasing a new one now??? so can’t wait for him to react to it LMFAOOOO TREVAAHH BEST BOY BDDBBD

YEAH AND ITS SO COOL TO SEE IT ALL CONNECT?? whoever created this theory line their mind is absolutely bONKERS !!!! SPESHOL STAGIE HES SO CUTE 😭😭😭 no bc everything is aligning together and its so crazy ???? but so MF creepy too ayo big comeback is coming fbwnfb

Meets and greets in the shower 💀 tbh can't blame him, showers are a process for me as well

LMFAOOOO 😭😭 SHOWERS ARE A LONG PROCESS first u gotta wait for the water to be perfect, by that time ur hosting a show, then u start singing and then its fans meet and then its backstage greet until then its soap time and boom <3

The placement of the piercing? What's going on there lmaoooo

BFKWHD RIGHT 😭😭 edgy hwa era coming <3

i just saw a excerpt of the drama and i get where u said his characters kinda annoying 😭😭😭 WHEN HES AT HER HOME??? ON THE COUCH JUST PLOPPING LIKE THAT 😭😭 LMFAOOOO DONT DO THAT 2ND LEAD LIKE THAT 😭😭😭

Lmaoooo that was quick, of course you're doing MR PARK 🤦🏼‍♀️ time to rebrand and call yourself miss seongs

of course 😔😔 i got reminded who i very much belonged too anyway pls expect heavy angst in that fic <3 miss yn lives a sad life and seonghwa doesn’t do anything to make it better <3 but more question would u want that fic first or the villain🔫

FBWKHDWJ JK’S AFTER U ATP 😭😭😭 nO BC THAT MAN WAS WASTED AND LIVING HIS LIFEE BDANBDKS THE WAY THE FANS ARE SO VERY CONSERVATIVE WHEN THEY REALIZE THE GUYS ARE OLDER REACHING 30 BRO ???? 😭😭

YEAHHHHHH HERE WE GO AGAIN 😭😭 so much drama but it’ll hopefully be good 😭😭 FBWNDHEJ HOW IS SHE NOT BAISING HIM SHES THE ONE WHO RUINED US FROM THE LONG HAIR DREAM 🔫???🔫??? convert her bestie convert

BESTIE I'M YELLING ONE IF MY FRIENDS LOOKED UP MY GOVERNMENT ASSIGNED NAME AND THE RULING PLANET IS MARS 😬😬😬😬 - DV 💖

BFMWBDMWBDWK ITS NOT A COINCIDENCE NO MORE BESTIE DELULU ERA DBDB 📈📈

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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starlocked01 · 3 years

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Why?

Why crack ship story idea at 2am?

"It was the kind of kiss where your mind wandered to another man's arms, but to be fair I was pretty sure the marshal had his thoughts on another dame. Didn't make for that bad of a kiss anyways."

#mercedes musings #Apparently two characters just need to be on the same planet now huh?#sparks nevadaxjuno steel has a lot of banter opportunities #and no one has written this crossover on AO3 #don't mind me i just think im a genius #noir and western are the same genre right?

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kaashikuroo · 3 years

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oooooh i was wondering if you could do the break up prank on atsumu and tendou like an angst to fluff type beat cause im addicted to it apparently haha have a good day!!

Of course! Thank you and same to you.

Pranks you pull on them -Haikyuu hcs

Characters: Atsumu and Tendō.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of breakup, tears.

Part 1: Kenma and Kuroo

MASTERLIST

Requests? Send ‘em here!

Atsumu:

Atsumu always had a soft spot for you.

He’d never raise his voice at you. When you had arguments, he’d take care of the situation quickly ‘cuz he doesn’t like fighting with you.

So you like the biggest douche on the planet when you sent a text to him, asking him if you could come over to his place cuz you wanted to make a dramatic exit to talk about something important.

You knew you made him anxious by yiour vague text, but what could you do? One of your friends not rlly dared you to do the break up prank on him or they’ll deem you unworthy of being their friend. Like srsly that’s your sign to leave 😃❓

So here you were, in his living room as he took a seat on the couch. When he saw that you were still standing, he got confused.

“Y/n~ Take a seat, babe. You hate standing.”

You couldn’t do this to him 🥺

But on the other hand, you also wanted to see how he’d react.

“It’s kind of urgent, Miya-san.”

His ears perked up as he stood up with a confused, but serious expression. Shit got real when you addressed him formally.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He stood up infront of you, trying to look stern but to you he looked like a lost puppy.

“I want to break up with you.”

——

Atsumu felt his entire world stop as you said those words.

He looked so confused as he tried to recall all the moments you two spent together, trying to find out if you were unhappy with him all this while.

“You what…?” His stern facade compeletly faded as his voice cracked.

“Wh-Where did it all go wrong? I’ll fix it baby. I’ll fix everything. I’ll change for you. Please don’t leave me. Just p-please don’t leave.” His voice was cracking all over the place as his eyes filled up with tears.

His mind was racing to all your happy moments.

He couldn’t lose you. You were the one who kept him together. You were the reason he was so happy with his life. He couldn’t handle the heartache of just imagining you leave.

It hurt you to see him so vulnerable.

But your last straw was when he knelt on the ground and buried his face in your stomach, sobs wrecking his throat.

You couldn’t bear it anymore.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him cry.

“‘Tsumu…” You tried to make him look at you as you touched his arms to make him stand up.

But he just shrugged you off.

“No! I won’t let you leave! Please give me a reason! Plea-se..” He was sobbing uncontrollably.

“‘Tsumu. I’m not leaving you, baby.” You said, raking his hair.

“H-huh?” He’d raise his head, looking at you with a confused, tear-stricken face.

You successfully pulled him up this time.

“It was just a prank. My stupid friends made me do it.” You said, wrapping your arms around his figure.

“Y-ya i-idiot!” He hugged you even tighter as you tried to soothe him by rubbing his back.

“Ya had me s-so worried. Y-you’re evil!”

You chuckled.

“I won’t leave you TsumTsum. I love you too much.” You pecked his shoulder as tears made their way down your face at the feeling of guilt from making him cry.

idk ‘bout y’all but i automatically get tears in my eyes when i see someone crying 😃❓

“Why are ya cryin’ now? Huh? Do I need to prove to you that I’m the best boyfriend in the world.”

He chuckled a little as he realized you weren’t going anywhere.

“Regardless, babe, don’t ya ever leave me. A can’t live without ya.”

He pulled away and smiled at you, making you smile back at him.

You both wiped eachother’s tears.

“A love you, honey.” He kissed your forehead.

“But! Ya ain’t gettin’ off the hook so easily! Love me!”

Mans carried you to the bedroom

What are legs when you have Miya Atsumu? 🦵❓

Would make you cut off connections with your ‘friends’

Tendō:

Mans has been rejected so much in his childhood- istg- 😭❓

You got asked one day from one of your friends that “What would happen if you guys broke up?”

You were genuinely clueless- cuz- you’ve never thought of leaving him. 🧍🏻‍♀️

Would suggest you to do the break up prank on him just to see his reaction.

Strikes your interest.

You dumb hoe. 😃❓

“Tendō.” You suddenly called out to him while scrolling through your feed.

“It’s Sato to you, missy.” Would joke from the other side of the couch.

“Tendō.”

You’d defo catch his attention this time.

“I’m sorry.” Would apologize without hesitation, putting down his phone, turning his attention to you.

“I did something wrong, right?” Would look at you with soft eyes.

“No. I just need to talk to you.” You kept your voice hard.

“What’s up?” Attempts to hold your hand but you swat it away, making him frown.

“I’m frustrated with this. With us.” You’d say, rolling your eyes.

You felt like the biggest scum on the planet rlly. As you should 🤡❓

Mans would stop breathing for a second.

“You’re kidding.” He stated, looking into your eyes trying to find some sort of a hint that you were joking.

“Tendō. I’m serious. I’m done with you. I can’t stand you anymore.”

How could you be so cruel 😭😭😭❓

Mans is stunned for a minute.

Blinks before looking down.

“I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. Please let’s talk this out. Don’t walk away. Please, love.” Will refuse to look into your eyes.

You stood your ground no matter how much you wanted to embrace the living shit out of him. cuz same 😔✊

“No. I can’t stay here.”

You were a bit confused as you saw Tendō nodding a little, stepping aside, heading somewhere.

Before you could question him he started talking.

“I understand. I’ll help you pack. But please think about this with a cool mind afterwards, love.”

You caught a glimpse of his trembling lips and his tear stained face as he passed by you, heading to your shared bedroom.

You knew you had to act quick here.

You literally just shattered this man’s heart 😭😭😭

“Babe! Come back, please! It was a joke!” You exclaimed as you caught a hold of his arm in time.

You saw him wiping his tears before turning around to face you.

“Joke? I don’t understand, love.”

Pls- his eyes were so red, you teared up

You quickly explained the whole scenario to him, not wanting him to be left in that heartbroken state any longer.

“I’m sorry, Sato. I didn’t mean to hurt you this bad.” You cupped his cheeks, caressing them.

“I really love you, Sato. I’d never leave you. Please know that.”

Now Tendō was smiling.

“I know, love.” He says, embracing you.

“But don’t pull something off like that again. It really hurt.”

You nodded.

“Sato~~”

He pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Crouch down a bit for me, please? Eyes closed!”

Looks comfused but obliges anyway.

When his face was infront of yours, you cupped his cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on top of his forehead.

“That felt really good. Do that more often.” He smiled, seeming relaxed.

Would flick your forehead.

“That’s your punishment.” Laughs a little.

“Now you have to love me all night. You know what that means?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You gasped comically

“SLUMBER PARTYYYY” You’d squeal together, holding hands, jumping up and down like 5 year olds.

“I’ll get the face masks!”

“And I’ll get the snacks!”

well- 😃❓ that escalated quickly 🤡✋

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thestarrynightslover · 3 years

Text

How to Say I Love You

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,582

Warnings: Smut implied.

Summary: One day, Jay takes it upon himself to be an extra-cute boyfriend. The reason? It takes (y/n) a while to find out.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Posting super late because the day was hard. So, just some more Jay fluff to brighten our days. Hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

As soon as you woke up, you felt light kisses being pressed to all of your very exposed skin, and an inevitable smile came to your lips.

“Good morning, princess.” Jay whispered in your ear with a husky voice.

“Good morning for you too, baby.” You answered him while bringing his face closer to yours. On that movement, before you could kiss him, you caught a glance of your bedside clock. “Oh my God, Jay! Look at the time! I thought we’d agreed to get as much sleep as we could after last night!” You quickly reprehended him. “Or have you forgotten that both of us still have to go to work today?” You asked, trying to sound annoyed at him when the most you managed to do was breathe out was a moan, as he nibbed your earlobe.

“Oh, I know how much you like sleeping, babygirl. But I know that there are a few things you’d give up your sleep for.” He stated in a very sexy tone.

“And what exactly makes you think that you’re one of those things?” You teased your boyfriend, hoping he’d respond to it like you thought he would.

“Ah, just a little something,” he teased back while slowly putting his hand between your legs, not even bothering to lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “like this.”

“Oh, Jay…” And, just like that, you were completely fine with waking up early.

---

Throughout the day, you just couldn’t keep the smile off your face, as your boyfriend took it upon himself to be the cutest person in the world. Why? You had no idea. All you knew was that he'd gotten the day off but, since you couldn't the same, he'd decided to go to work nonetheless.

His romantics for no apparent reason started with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a note that read:

“Will you be my lunch date today? *blinking face*

P.S.: 12:00 - 13:00 is all I have. Sorry, doll :(

Meet me at our spot?

⎼ Your bae.”

He used bae. If he wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t love him so much, you would have cringed at the choice, and he knew it. Ah, that man...

A few hours after that, you went to meet Jay for lunch at your spot ⎼ which was one of the benches along the Riverwalk, where you’d first met ⎼, absolutely decided on calling him out for being so mushy. But, as you walked closer towards him, you could see that your boyfriend was holding a picnic basket in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, and, as corny as that was, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Drinking on duty now, detective?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Nope. This one’s without alcohol. And, trust me, you’ll like it.” He told you, a sweet smile on his lips.

“Hum, maybe... But I wouldn’t really mind if it was bad either.” You half-whispered at Jay.

“Oh no?” He asked you with a smirk this time.

“No. The company makes up for anything else.” You said while moving to kiss him.

“Geez, babe, you're such a dork!" He said, making fun of you after the kiss was over.

"Really? That's what you're going with?" You, the dork? Big joke.

"What else can I say if it's the truth?" Jay asked you through his lashes, an innocent expression in-face.

"Look who's talking!" You said while rolling your eyes.

Not long after that, he put an end to your little banter. Saying that he didn't wanna spend another second of the few moments the two of you had until the evening arguing was an understatement. You agreed, even though you knew that both of you secretly enjoyed the bickerings as well as you did everything else.

Later, on that same day, when you were about to leave work, you decided to call your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe." He answered, on the fourth ring, voice letting on some tiredness.

"Hey there, handsome! I'm already leaving work, think I’mma go swim a little. Unless… There's a chance you're getting off a little earlier yourself?" You tried your luck, thinking about making him relax a little before you two left for dinner.

"Uh… Sorry, babe, I don't think I'll be able to." A deep sigh. Something was wrong.

"Jay. Is everything okay?" Another sigh. Shit.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Just a pain-in-the-ass case we can't seem to solve. When all I wanted to do was be home with you." He confessed.

"Huh. Now, tell me, who's the dork?" You heard his muffled laugh over the phone.

"I am. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows us knows it." At that, you were the one who giggled. "And, believe me, I bear the title with pride." More laughing, from both of you this time.

"Okay, then… So, um, is there anything I can do? Maybe we cancel that dinner reservation?"

"No! No, not at all! You just… Go do your swimming and don't worry about me, okay?" Jay sounded a bit weird this time, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was just the stress of the day.

"Okay…" You replied, still unconvinced.

"Alright, I gotta go now. Love you."

"Okay, bye. Love you too. Be safe!"

"Always, baby." With that, he hung up quickly, which he never did ⎼ always dragging the conversations for as long as he could. But, once again, you decided to do what your boyfriend told you to and not worry about it.

It was already a bit into the evening and you were stretching your body to leave the swimming pool, when you saw him. Jay. So you got out and walked over to him.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss (y/l/n)." He greeted innocently.

"Well, this is a surprise. Yet another one. On the same day." You said, just to let him know that his weird behaviors weren't going by unnoticed.

"Ah, you know what they say… Gotta keep the relationship interesting!" Ha, ha. He was up to something. So you just gave him a suspicious look. To which he answered with a huge smile, saying: "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing besides the fact that you're up to something. What is it?"

"Oh. My. God." Jay said emphatically, faking offense. "I'm offended. You think that poorly of me?"

"What do you mean?" You asked him, a bit confused this time.

"You really think that I can't just try and brighten my princess's day?" He said, walking closer to you this time.

"Well, I guess that I wouldn't object to that, but what I'm saying is tha-" Before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you towards him, pressing your bodies on a tight embrace and kissing you passionately.

"Oh no, Jay, you should let me go! I'm all wet!" You squeal out as Jay keeps holding you up in the air against his firm abdomen.

"I don't mind." He told you with a shrug of shoulders. "I'm used to having you like this." He, then, whispers in your ear and you can feel his smirk, as he kisses your neck.

"Jay!" You hissed in fake disapproval. "We're in public! You can't be saying these things to me in public!"

"Sorry, baby. But you know that I just can't help myself around you." He tells you, deliberately taking his time. At that, you just throw back your head in laughter. "Besides, it doesn't seem to me like you're feeling all that bothered with my actions…"

"But I am!" You said assertively. But then you remembered your conversation from earlier and asked him, in a softer tone: "Hey, um, how did the case go? Are you still feeling up for the dinner thing?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched Jay shift his entire demeanor.

"Yeah! We're definitely still going! And, as I told you before, the case was just a pain in the ass, nothing more." He sounded nervous. Weird. Like he was hiding something.

"Jay…"

"Let's just go, okay? Cause we still need to get ready for dinner. I already put your stuff in the duffel bag. My car's right outside." Jay told you quickly, like he didn't wanna give you time to make any conclusions.

"Okay, then…"

---

“C’mon, (y/n/n)! We’re running late!” You heard your boyfriend shouting for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t you dare to rush me! Not when you’re the reason I’m running late in the first place!” You sharply answered, stepping out into the living room whilst putting your earring on. “Besides, that place we’re going is just too fancy. I need to look perfect.” You added more calmly, only now realizing how Jay was staring at you. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Wha- wrong? No! No!” He quickly assured you and closed the distance between the two of you. “You already look perfect. Every single day.”

“What? Jay, I’m serious!” You pouted, giving him an annoyed glare.

“I am too! You look gorgeous, baby.” He told you with that glorious smile of his. “And, really, there’s just no place on the planet that could make you look any less gorgeous.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to get me to hurry up!” You accused, hitting him with considerable strength in the chest.

“Ouch! That hurt! And, yes, I am trying to hurry you up! Because we have a reservation!” He yelled at you in response. If it was any other time, you would’ve argued with him, of course. But even you had to admit he was right, you were on the clock.

“Okay, okay! I’m just gonna grab my purse and we’ll go!” You shouted back, already from the bedroom.

After that, the two of you managed to leave your apartment and get to the restaurant on time, due to Jay promising the cab driver a doubled pay if he went faster.

As soon as you arrived, though, you saw it was worth it. You still had no clue of what got in your boyfriend’s head to take you out on this kind of date for no apparent reason like that, especially after everything else he’d already done, but you obviously weren’t about to complain either.

The maître walked both of you two to a table on the upper floor of the establishment, it had an amazing view of the city and it was a pretty reserved space. So, right after you'd placed your orders and been left alone, you half-squealed at Jay:

"Oh. My. God." Your smile was wide and your eyes were shining. "This place is incredible, babe!" He looked at you with devotion, clearly amused by your reaction.

"I know right? I'm really glad we got to come here." He stated, his whole behavior letting you know that he was just as impressed.

And, like that, the evening flew by and you caught yourself stifling yawn after yawn.

"Baby, you’re not too desperate to go home, are you? Because there's still one thing I wanna show you." Your boyfriend said, pulling you by your hand to get up. Then, he guided you to that part where you'd been able to view most Chicago, earlier in the night.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the balcony to see the details, "this really is great, babe." When you’d walked past this part you wondered about why they hadn't put any tables there, only a small couch, but now you knew. They didn't want to make that space ⎼ that landscape ⎼ prisoner of one couple, or one family, that would most likely stay there the entire night.

"It is." He agreed with you.

"You know, I hadn't brought it up yet, because I thought that you'd eventually tell me on your own, but you've been acting a little weird the whole day. This morning in bed, the flowers, then the picnic lunch, picking me up at swimming, and now this… You didn't sound too good on that call either, and I gotta admit that when you said we were going out for a fancy dinner, I didn't think it'd be here, where it's practically impossible to get a reservation. So, just… Talk to me, Jay."

"(y/n/n)... Would you even believe me if I told you that that's what I've been preparing to do the whole day?" He asked you with a shy smile.

"Will you be mad at me if I say no?" You asked, a bit apprehensively. He just laughed.

"Nah, not really." He told you jokingly. "But I have." He said, more serious this time. “Baby, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He started telling you.

“Jay-” You whispered nervously, sort of anticipating what was about to happen.

“No, just- just please let me finish. I need you to understand how important you are to me, princess. Hell, I know that words aren’t really my strongest suit, but you deserve to know that you’re my light, my lifeline, my happiness… You’re my everything, (y/n/n). My entire world. And, because of you, now I think that it is actually okay to dream, to hope for a better future, for a future. That’s why I wanna ask you, tonight, to be my future, just like you already are my present.” At that moment you couldn’t keep the tears off of your face anymore, and you would’ve jumped him right then if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee. “Will you marry me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asked you with a timid smile and teary eyes of his own. As you took in the man you loved, kneeled before you, holding an open box with the diamond ring you’d recognized as being his mother’s, you just stood there crying, not managing to say anything. “B- baby? Please say something.” Jay spoke again, letting out a nervous choked laugh. So you forced yourself to answer him.

“Oh m- my God, yes!!” You squealed out.

“Yes?!?” He repeated what you said, still on the ground.

“Of course, yes!!!” You confirmed, pulling him up to kiss you. While at it, your boyfriend, now fiancé, almost dropped the small velvet box he was holding.

“Okay,” he started, chuckling, after the two of you parted a little, “let me put this thing on your finger before you back down!”

“Ha, ha. As if I was going to! You’re only in a hurry because you’re scared you’ll drop your mom’s ring.” You bickered a little, letting him know that you recognized the jewelry, to which he responded with a bright smile, saying:

“It’s your ring now, princess. And, trust me, she’d love you almost as much as I do if she were still here.” He told you, shining eyes meeting yours, as he slipped the stunning piece in your finger.

“Jay.” You breathed out as the tears resurfaced in your eyes. “It is so beautiful…” You told him looking down at the ring you had in-hand. “And… You really mean that?”

“100%, princess. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of times when you actually remind me of her…” He said, tearing up a little.

“Awww, babe...” You said throwing your arms around him again.

And that’s how you two stayed. Just holding each other, under a very starry night in Chicago. More than ready to start walking down that new road together.

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echos-newlegs · 3 years

Note

Can i request number 4 from the angst prompts list with Crosshair? In the mood to get my heart broken lmao thanks x

You Scare Me

Sure thing, but also, I felt that.

Sorry if this is messy and his character is- off. Just took a benadryl and felt like writing before I dozed off 🕴 hope this isn't that bad.

Crosshair x Reader: "I don't care about you, no one does."

Warnings: Angsty, not too bad though. His character may be a bit off? Still getting down his character, tbh.

Word count: 1.6k

You stood in the doorway. Looking at the sniper who had his back to you. Sitting in a chair leant forward as he stared down at his feet.

"What do you want?"

His voice was harsh and bitter. You weren't sure what happened between you two, or what you did. But as of late he had been.. Distant.

The two of you used to be so close. It wasn't a talkative close, but more of an affectionate one. A close that had the both of you comforted and feeling love from both sides.

"I want to know if you're okay?" You spoke. Still standing in the doorway. Too afraid to step further inside. No, you weren't afraid he'd hurt you. You were just afraid he would shut you out.

"I'm fine," he spat.

You flinched just a bit at his words. Frowning as you shuffled your feet. "Cross.. I know that's not true, but-"

"But what?" He snapped. Standing from his chair to turn and face you.

He got closer to you. Backing you up into the wall as he stared down into your eyes. Your brows furrowed in concern.

"But what, huh? But you're here for me? But you care? What is it?" He sneered.

Your eyes were full of hurt and concern. Searching his for the issue.

"But I do. I am here for you and I do care." You spoke. Keeping your voice soft.

"Why have you been so distant lately? Just answer that and I'll leave."

Your words made him ponder for a bit. He seemed to be genuinely at a loss for words. As if he didn't even know.

"Cross, I love you, you know that right?" He furrowed once more at those words. You bit your tongue, you stepped a bit too far over his line.

"Love?" He chuckled. Looking back to your face. "You don't love me, just like I don't care about you, no one does."

His voice was low. It wasn't true, you both knew it, but it was still enough for the tears to flow down your face in wavy patterns. Your breathing going jagged.

"You don't mean that," he knew you were insecure when it came to how others felt about you. You always felt you weren't enough. Your chest ached with worry if someone even stared your way too long.

His expression faltered a bit. A look of apology making an appearance for a second, before fading back to his glare.

"See, you're weak and flawed. Who would want to love that?" He barked.

You looked down, letting out a small chuckle that seemed to catch him off guard.

"Says the one who chases away everyone. All because they're trying to help." Your voice cracked a bit. Before you pushed past him to head out of the ship.

He didn't even chase after you. He only stood back and watched you leave.

"Where's y/n?" Tech was the first to notice your absence. Especially when Crosshair left his room without you.

It wasn’t like you were both attached at the waist, but you did happen to hang around each other a lot. Your presence was all he needed to feel at home. But apparently that wasn't enough anymore.

Crosshair looked up to his brother when he stood in front of him. Arms crossed. "Crosshair, Where's y/n?" Tech asked. Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker looking to the slimmer male with concerned expressions.

"She left," was all he said before he pushed past the slightly broader male.

"What do you mean, 'she left,'?" Hunter asked. Now following his brother. You were one of them. With or without crosshair, they treated you like their own. You were a friend and you'd saved all of them at least once or twice out on the field or just from wounds that could have killed them.

"Is she okay?" Echo asked, and Crosshair groaned. Turning to face them all.

"We got in an argument okay? I told her I didn't care about her. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He snapped.

Everyone stared at him in shock.

"You did what?" Hunter asked. Wrecker following echo. "We'll find her, Sarg." And with that those two were off to look for you.

"Tech, go check the transmissions. Make sure she hasn't tried to contact us." Hunter ordered, and his younger vod nodded as he headed off into the other room. Leaving Hunter and Crosshair alone.

"Why would you do that?" He snapped. Noticing Crosshairs' look of guilt. "She's nothing but sweet, 'nd kind, 'nd all around loving towards you. Hell, she does love you and you know it."

Crosshair let out a long sigh. Rubbing his forearm. "I know," "then why say you don't care about her?"

There was a long pause. Until he turned to head towards the exit for the Marauder. "Because I may as well hurt her now before it's too far along."

Hunter grunted, grabbing him by the shoulder to stop him. "No, you better find her and at least apologize. She thinks the world of you and I know you think the same of her. I can sense it for kriffs sake. I know it's scary, but we're clones. We don't get many admirers, you need to cherish this for now." He speeched. Crosshair tugging himself from Hunter's grip. "Fine."

You were in the old tree hut the six of you found on the planet you were sent to scout. Just as Echo assumed you would be. He knew you better than the rest. You knew each other from the 501st, after all.

"Y/n.." he called, and you inhaled. Watching as Wreckers head peaked through the entryway. "You were right, She's here!" He shouted as you moved to stand.

'Hey, hey, are you alright?" The pale trooper asked, and you merely nodded. Rubbing your eyes. "We heard what he said to you." Wrecker piped.

You frowned, looking down.

"It ain't true, you know."

You shrugged, scuffing your feet. "It sure felt like it was." You spoke quietly. Looking up to Echo and Wrecker.

"If I know my brother, and I do." Wrecker started. Approaching you slowly. "He does care about you. He's just scared."

You chuckled. Wiping a few more tears away that fell. "Scared? So saying no one cares about me is how he shows fear? Good to know."

"Y/n, it's not just fear. He does care, he just doesn't want you too attached in case something happens. I've watched him long enough to know this." Echo spoke. Reaching out to pull you in for a hug. Which you gladly accepted. Chuckling as Wrecker pulled the two of you closer for a group hug, as he proclaimed.

"He talks about you when we go to 79s and you stay back on the ship, or at the barracks. He says how," "no other girl can down a shot like you can." Crosshair interrupted from behind. Causing you all to look towards the entrance.

"How sweet," you spoke, though your voice was laced with sarcasm. They all picked up on it.

"I talk about how it's no fun without you. Too. You make everything fun." He admitted, and you shuffled your feet some more as Echo and Wrecker stepped aside. Watching as Crosshair neared.

"And I don't talk about feelings much, you know this best." You nodded at his words. Watching as he side eyed his brothers and they left the hut.

"Y/n," you refused to meet his eyes. Until his hand reached out to cup your face. To which you glared at him and flinched away.

"Why are you here? Thought you didn’t care about me. No one does." He sighed. Licking his lips as he watched you.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" "Go fuck yourself," you spat. Crossing your arms before turning away from him.

He sighed. Rubbing the side of his head. "It ain't the same without you, though," you rolled your eyes at that. "What do you want? If Hunter sent you here don't bother. I know your words are probably forced."

He sighed again. Pulling you back into his chest. Which you squirmed to get out of. But his grip only tightened.

"Please just listen," he requested.

You decided to still in his grasp. Which told him you were cooperating, a little.

"What I said earlier, I didn't mean it."

"It still hurt," you snapped.

"I know it did, but I'm just scared to get too attached. I'm a clone. I was built for war, not life."

You felt a wave of guilt rush over you.

"Forgive me?" He questioned. "I need you," he finished.

You pondered, then leant back against his chest. "I will, but you can’t do that anymore. You scared me and.. You hurt me. You know I already feel like no one cares about me, and that the world's out to get me. Stars, that's where we're similar." You told him, and he only nodded. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "Won't happen again." He spoke. Kissing the skin that bridged from your neck to your shoulder.

You exhaled. Craning your head to the side. "If it does, I won't be this willing to come back." He hummed at that. It was an agreeing, 'I know,' sort of hum. As he rested himself against your back.

"Can we head back?" He asked, and you nodded. "Sure, but I'm still mad." He shrugged. "I know, I'll make up for it." "You better, I thought I lost you over something I did."

Crosshair shook his head in disagreement. Turning you so he could pull you in for a proper hug. Resting his chin on top if your head. Standing like this for a moment before pulling you back to tug you back to the marauder. To which he drug you to his room to hold you in his bed. Not letting you go until Hunter insisted the both of you eat.

#crosshair x reader #bad batch x reader #star wars #star wars writing #crosshair #crosshair bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x you

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oh-boy-me · 3 years

Note

I just read both the australia and museum post and the chaos levels are top tier, but like imagine the chaos that ensues if lord diavolo discovers about amusment parks and immediately just buys tickets to disneyland. Lucifer is basically the dad trying not to loose his children(lord diavolo included). Lord diavolo wanting to ride a loopy rollercoaster and just having the time of his life! (Also I highkey see diavolo ordering lucifer to make a disneyland in devildom tbh) Also mouse ear headbands!

This..... this took forever

Hey there anon! Sorry it took literally a year to answer this! If you’re still into Obey Me, I hope this was a pleasant surprise.

Also for the first time ever a scenario post is being put under the cut for length purposes. This scenario is 2.6k words Jesus

Please note that the last time I went to Disney was in 2015, so anything that’s newer than that is taken from the extensive reading of Disney advice blogs I read in preparation for this post. Anything older than that is likely from experience.

Also, I tried my best to keep this spoiler free for the attractions that can be affected by it.

So the Devildom DOES have the concept of amusement parks. I slept on this ask for so long that we’ve learned about Devil’s Coast. It seems to be more akin to a smaller-scale theme park, though. Small-ish. I’m used to NYC idk what constitutes as small.

Something like Disney World is on such a larger scale!! When Diavolo heard about that, he knew they had to go.

They are going to Disney World in Orlando because it’s the only one I’ve been to.

Lucifer is REALLY getting tired of these field trips, but there would be no weird animals, and there would be no sobering lessons on global extinction events at a family-friendly amusement park. He. He can handle this.

Solomon has actually been banned from all Walt Disney theme parks. We’re talking blacklist-level banned. He’s barred from ever entering any Disney park ever again. However, this was back in 1976, so this must be, like, his son or something, right? There’s no way this is the same guy. Thought the security guard who let him in.

What did Solomon do to get banned? When asked, he only gave a curious hum. “Yeah, I wonder.”

The place is split into four parks, so they’ll spend one day in each.

Barbatos continued to flex his power as the only one in the group with a brain cell, being sure to get them all fast passes. He even set time back just for the passes while they were booking the rides they wanted to cut the lines for, so if they don’t get used he’s going to be very snippy.

Also for convenience sake this is taking place in an AU where everything is the same but COVID doesn’t exist to shut down some rides and attractions.

Day 1: Hollywood Studios

MC and Simeon basically have to coerce Lucifer into letting everyone run free instead of making them all line up with a walking rope all day. He relents on the condition that everyone checks in periodically so he can at least know they haven’t killed anyone.

Nobody will check in except for maybe Beelzebub and those at Purgatory Hall.

Levi immediately gathered his fellow Star Wars fans (which basically meant calling over Mammon Belphie and Asmo and then pulling in two unsuspecting people suddenly given the title of “Star Wars fan”), and made a beeline for Galaxy’s Edge. There’s a LOT to do there and damn it if he wasn’t going to hit all of it.

First up for their group is the interactive Millennium Falcon Smuggler’s Run. They fail the mission. Levi’s pretty pissed, but everyone agrees that it was fun nonetheless. They really felt like they were doing a mission in the Falcon! Plus, the gameplay element was totally up the alley of most of this group. Simeon does feel a little nauseous from Luke’s jerky steering, though.

Did you know that Diavolo loves Toy Story? He does. He’s very much enjoying the Slinky roller coaster with Barbatos.

Barbatos would rather be spending time at the shows and performances, but oh no god forbid we don’t get an autograph from Doc McStuffins. Lucifer please come find him and save him.

Lucifer somehow wandered into the Frozen Sing-Along Celebration. He wants out. Barbatos please come find him and save him.

In general, Lucifer isn’t a fan of these sorts of places, so honestly he’s just hiding from the others and waiting for today to be over. Barbatos told him that there are parks that don’t revolve around rides and characters, and he’s holding out for those.

Luckily for them Diavolo wants to do LITERALLY everything, and that does include the shows, so Barbatos and Lucifer can have at least some fun today

Levi, Asmo, and Beel are about to start their relay for getting character autographs when Satan shows up out of nowhere and starts dragging everyone over to the Tower of Terror. Solomon bars all attempts to flee on a certain Avatar of Greed’s side.

The line to the Tower is so long, and honestly? Satan feels like the ride didn’t live up to the literal hour they waited to get on. Like yeah it was fun, but way too short.

He voices those thoughts, and Levi, who Satan knows is afraid of heights, is pretty fucking livid and drags him to Rock n Rollercoaster as revenge. Satan hates roller coasters.

As for the others, Asmo and Luke have a lot of fun on the thrill rides. Mammon and Simeon do not. Beel is a little spooked by them but still manages to have fun, while Belphie and Solomon think they’re alright.

Eventually, Simeon gets too sick to move, and they assign him to Luke. They say it’s because he’s too short to ride some of the rides (even though he’s literally not, screw you guys.)

Barbatos messes with time a lil bit so they can enjoy the Fantasmic Show and Fireworks to wrap the day up.

Levi is very jealous of Diavolo’s Doc McStuffins autograph. Somehow Asmo has Buzz Lightyear’s number.

Day 2: Animal Kingdom

Satan is vibrating

He literally instantly sprints to the Kilimanjaro Safari. And good for him; that’s something best done while the sun isn’t high up. The whole gang actually agrees to check that one out, and while Satan isn’t thrilled to be within 50 feet of Lucifer, he’s glad Simeon is there because he remembers how his presence lured animals out in Australia.

Simeon also finds himself pulled along the trails by Satan and parents watch in horror as a gorilla gives him a friendly pat on the back.

If you didn’t know, Animal Kingdom is divided into the two continents of Asia and Africa, as well as the secret eighth continent Avatar (2009). Diavolo heard great things about the Flight of Passage ride, but he totally forgot to tell Barbatos about it, so they’re stuck on a three hour wait line now.

Levi takes Luke on the Everest roller coaster because Simeon saw it in the distance and looked like he was about to cry. Levi wouldn’t shut up about how the yeti effect needs to be fixed and Solomon had to explain that the effect literally couldn’t support itself.

Simeon, having escaped a roller coaster for the first and only time on this trip, grabs lunch with Lucifer and Solomon and they enjoy the Lion King performance together. Solomon’s the only one of them who’s seen the movie, but the others still found it fun. Solomon keeps making up random plot points that don’t exist, though. Remember when Simba was captured by pirates?

Mammon found the Bugs Life show very scary. Normally Asmo would laugh at him, but he’s afraid of any bug he’s never seen before and at least Mammon was afraid of the things that were supposed to get you. They agree that bugs are still not their friends.

Satan has many things to say about the Dinosaur ride and most of them aren’t good. Belphie thought it was pretty ok, though. Lucifer can’t believe there was a sobering lesson on a global extinction event at this family-friendly amusement park.

Diavolo is still in line. Barbatos abandons him. He accompanies Luke to the kiddie fossil thing and actually finds it more tolerable. Oh yeah that’s the other secret ninth continent, Dinoland.

Beel and Belphie spend most of the day together at the various petting zoos. Belphie comes back knowing more than he ever wanted to about conservation. He thought Rafiki’s Planet Watch was going to be about watching other planets, not this one!

Asmo gets very interested in the costumes of the performers, as well as the parrots in the bird show. He could probably make some really colorful designs with those as inspiration.

Nearby, Mammon runs into Kevin and squawks in surprise. The zoo staff spend the next two hours trying to find the bird that escaped.

Diavolo says the ride was worth it, don’t worry.

Honestly this park has a lot of stuff that wouldn’t translate well to a funny scenario post so this part might be a little short compared to the others. I can only talk about a zoo for so long.

Anyone remember the Honey I Shrunk the Kids 4D show? Apparently it closed in 2016 to make room for more Star Wars stuff.

Anyway, at the center of it all there’s the Tree of Life, which is really pretty all day. Lucifer is thrilled to have a decently obvious meet-up place, too. They get to catch the brief awakening show at night.

They’re very bummed to learn the Rivers of Light show isn’t happening anymore, so Levi pulls it up on his phone so they can watch it in spirit.

Then Satan learns about the Wilderness Explorers badges and the others spend the rest of the time preventing too much collateral damage over the fact that nobody told him.

Day 3: Epcot

Finally, Lucifer thinks. Boo, Luke thinks.

Beel didn’t expect this park to be that interesting to him (he’s much more into the wonder and immersion of Hollywood Studios and Magic Kingdom), but then he learned about the restaurants. China, Norway, France, Mexico, Germany, Morocco, Italy, Japan, Canada--Canada? Huh. Canada. There’s so many different restaurants from so many cuisines to try, and yeah he knows that it’s definitely not the same as going to the place and it’s overpriced (sorry Lucifer), but it’s all right there. He makes certain to take MC on a deluxe Epcot restaurant tour.

Oh yeah MC. That’s the first time we’ve heard from them in a while. They’re doing whatever you want them to I guess.

Levi buys so much from the Japanese gift shops that he has to go back to the hotel for a bit to drop his bags off.

Satan and Diavolo aren’t much better, but their stashes are more varied.

Also, Diavolo found Mouse Gear, and bought everyone a pair of ears. Lucifer says that everyone has to keep them on because it’s what Lord Diavolo wants, but he is by far the most upset about them. Mammon snaps a picture and Lucifer throws his DDD into the lake.

Asmo and Belphie decide they’re gonna take it easy this day, and they nab Solomon and Barbatos for some exhibition hopping.

Luke finds Mission Space and please father no Simeon thought he was safe he thought he was safe here no please

Aside from that, though, Luke honestly finds this part of the park boring. He’d have been more interested in these attractions elsewhere, but as a kid he’s in Disney for roller coasters and Mickey Mouse.

Simeon is very grateful that Luke doesn’t have much that he wants to do, because it means that he can enjoy the Gran Fiesta and Living with the Land boat rides and have a single moment where he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be sick. He’s not even afraid of the rides; he just gets motion sick easily.

Asmo makes sure to see the Chinese acrobat show, and Mammon catches that with the show-hopping gang since there isn’t much he wants to do here either.

Epcot has alcohol and Solomon hasn’t been able to drink in ages so he really wants to spend some time doing that with MC. No demons allowed, thank you very much. He doesn’t hold his liquor as well as he’d like you to believe, but he just gets really talkative when drunk so it’s ok.

Epcot is a nice day to take a breather and Lucifer and Barbatos definitely needed a breather before tomorrow.

Day 4: Magic Kingdom

This is the day Diavolo has been waiting for. The crème de la crop, the best park for kids and kids in a future king of the Devildom’s body.

Also I feel like now is a good time to mention that this probably isn’t a reasonable order of events because I don’t remember the map layout of these places idk Disney city planning

This time. This time, Levi, Asmo and Beel are gonna get those autographs, dammit. Levi doesn’t even know who half of these characters are but hell if he’s not getting their autograph.

Mammon actually really loves the mascots too, but he’s embarrassed about it so he’ll only try to get one if he can use the guise of MC wanting one. MC, please help him out

Belphie isn’t big on rides, but he does have a soft spot for the more retro ones like Dumbo and Seven Dwarves. And like I said before, Beel loves Magic Kingdom for its wonder. So Belphie is perfectly happy being led (read: piggybacked) around by Beel today, because their favorite attractions match up pretty well here.

Actually, Beel’s favorite Disney movie is Lilo and Stitch, but. RIP Stitch’s Great Escape ride 2004-2018

Diavolo and Lucifer take a moment to enjoy the Carousel of Progress, and they reflect on how much the Human World is always changing and how much about it they still don’t know. It really does make them think, like. Grandma found the VR games at Christmas! The Devildom doesn’t have grandmas!

Mammon is terrified of the Haunted Mansion ride, and Satan has literally never felt so much schadenfreude in his life.

Mammon’s afraid of most rides to be fair, but he likes water rides, so Levi eventually takes pity on him and they go on Splash Mountain together more than once.

The Peter Pan ride broke down

Luke wanted to go on Space Mountain and Simeon was the only one around, so. RIP Simeon ????-2021

Diavolo was That Guy. If you know, you know.

Beel accidentally spun the teacups way too fast. Not even Solomon got out of that one unscathed.

Following that, Solomon manages to drag Barbatos onto the Jungle Cruise while Lucifer is busy. What is Lucifer busy with? Riding the Buzz Lightyear shooting ride over and over until he hits every single target and gets a perfect score at a Disney ride, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve. Anyway, Barbatos finds it really charming and Solomon finds it a nice break that he didn’t know he needed.

While looking for a food place that sells water for a reasonable price, a kid runs up to Asmo asking for a picture and autograph. He’s kind of confused, but goes along with it to make the kid happy.

Turns out, Asmo’s so naturally charming that they mistook him for a prince. Other groups see that family and follow suit. Mammon eventually catches wind of it and shows up to charge a fee. The parents are pretty sure Disney doesn’t charge fees like that, but their kids really want a pic with Asmo so they hand over the two bucks. (“Oh it’s so low” come on Mammon’s not a dick to children.)

And that’s the story of how Mammon and Asmo ended up in Disney Jail. You’re very much not allowed to pretend to be a cast member and then charge money for it. Lucifer has to bail them out as their “guardian,” and as punishment they aren’t allowed to opt out of It’s a Small World.

Small World isn’t that bad imho, and those like Diavolo, Satan, Simeon, and Levi would like it a lot. But Lucifer has been playing parent all day, Belphie does not like the noise, and Solomon has literally been on this ride at least fifty times. Very mixed feelings on this one, but it feels fitting to end with that and a fireworks show.

All in all though this wasn’t the worst trip Lucifer’s been on (cue everyone applauding for some reason).

Barbatos by far had the least fun of them all because for four days he was stuck in a park where the mascot is a fucking rodent and he wasn’t allowed to annihilate Mickey Mouse where he stood

“Disneyland Devildom when” “Lord Diavolo, no”

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #my favorite park is def epcot and my favorite ride is def splash mountain #also my sister helped me out by reminding me about animal kingdom but most of her photos were of random birds

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silkling · 3 years

Note

Hi! I remember you said you liked angst. So... Can you write another fanfic on the AU where the rescue bots were found by the Autobots, with the following plot: Blades is forced to repair one of his comrades, who was seriously injured in battle?(either Chase or Heatwave, your choice) 👀

Ooh, I like this idea! Imma do it. I’m going to make it worse though. Just because. Apparently I really like hurting my favorite characters. Go figure, huh? Also, for those who didn’t read the first, this fic is in the same verse as this one.

Also, beware that there will be descriptions of graphic injury, so be wary if that’s something that upsets you.

———————————————————————————————————

The stars were silent. They always were, of course, but during the Ark’s recharge cycle the silence was all-consuming. Blades was in the rec room, sitting in the little viewport alcove that took up a small portion of the wall. They were passing by the same star system where the Sigma had been found by the Autobots, all those stellar cycles ago. 5 vorns or so had passed since then, which felt both like an eternity and like no time at all.

Blades knew Cybertronians lived a long time. In reality, 5 vorns was barely any time at all for one of their kind. But for Blades, who had once only ever known what it was to save lives, the past 5 vorns that he’d spent learning to take them had dragged on and felt almost unbearably long. He hadn’t actually killed yet, but he’d already learned how do so with a blaster, how to do it by hand, and even how to get in close and use a blade. Apparently, he was particularly talented at that last one. Given his name, the Protectobot found it rather ironic.

“Blades? What are you doing up? You do not have any duties this night cycle.”

The motorcycle startled, his engine revving and his processor snapping to attention at the unexpected voice. He hadn’t killed any bot yet, but he’d been in many, many, many battles now, some of which still gave him nightmares. He’d developed battle protocols very quickly after joining the Autobots, and now took being surprised as poorly as most of the others did. His optics sharpened and focused on his unexpected visitor with unnerving intensity, before his sighed and relaxed, tense armor plating loosening once more.

“Chase.” he greeted. “I know. I couldn’t sleep. I was remembering that last battle.”

“Ah.” Here, his friend’s voice softened, and the blue and white bot walked over to join him. He nudged the slimmer youngling aside until there was room in the small alcove for them both, sitting opposite from his friend and letting their pedes entangle. “I understand now.”

And he did. The last battle had been fought on a young planet, one with plentiful energon mines, and where the local species were still primitive. It had been a difficult fight. Blades, like always, had fought on the front lines with Hot Spot, Groove and Streetwise. Chase and Heatwave had been nearby, too. Somehow, they always found themselves fighting near each other. As with most of their battles, Boulder and First Aid had remained behind at the Ark, away from the battle proper. It hadn’t been a very unique battle, at first. Then the Deceptions had unveiled a new weapon. It had destroyed the planet, and every life that called it home had died with it. The Autobots had been too late to realize what was going on. They hadn’t been able to stop it, only flee before they too fell to the new weapon.

Blades had taken it particularly hard. The small motorcycle was a deeply empathetic bot, and it had hurt him to know they they had brought their war to another planet, and that it had resulted in the destruction of that planet and the loss of the lives there. Chase couldn’t blame him. All of Sigma-17 had felt that loss particularly hard. For all they had become soldiers after being awoken from stasis, all four younglings were still Rescue Bots at spark.

“We will simply have to stop Megatron next time and destroy his weapon before he can ever use it again.” Chase said after a moment of silence. He knew Blades wouldn’t be reassured by useless platitudes.

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, distant. “Yeah.” he repeated, sounding a little more present as his optics hardened. “We will. He can’t do that again.”

Blades turned to meet his friend’s gaze, chin lifting. “We won’t let him do that again.”

Chase smiled, nodding. “No, we will not.” he agreed.

Blades relaxed completely then, sighing and shifting until he could lean into Chase’s chest. “Thank you, Chase.” he whispered.

“Of course.” he said, his arms coming around to press the smaller bot to his chest. “I will always be there to support you, when you have need of it. I am your Amica, after all.”

That was another thing that had changed in the past few vorns. Blades and Chase had always been fairly close, since they found they balanced each other out quiet nicely. Even before stasis, they’d been close friends. Blades appreciated Chase’s calm, peaceful logic and found it helped bring him him back from some of his nervous breakdowns, and Chase found Blades’s natural easy-going and sociable demeanor soothing and helpful at understanding situations which normally gave him pause. It had only taken them a couple vorns after coming out of stasis to formally perform the ritus and become Amica Endura.

Blades laughed, his hands raising to curl across the arms pressed to his chestplate. “Yeah, you are. And I’m yours. You can always count on me, Chase.”

A small smiled tugged at his lips, and he turned his gaze to the stars outside the viewport, in his chest, his spark pulsed, warm and fond with affection and belonging. He knew that Blades was feeling the same right now, both younglings basking in the quiet peace and comfort of each others’ presence.

“I know.”

Outside the Ark, the vast expanse of space stretched on. The billions of stars shone brightly, and life moved ever forward. Time ticked on, and though this moment was calm and soft, there would be many moments to come that would not be. What the future held exactly, only Primus knew. All his children could do now was hold on and ride out the storms to come.

——————————

When it finally happened, Blades would later reflect that he was surprised it had taken as long as it had. But then again, First Aid and Ratchet would probably have done their best to keep it from happening, to make sure his own emotional turmoil wouldn’t cause him to falter. They couldn’t stall it forever though, because this was War and at the end of it all that only meant he would have been forced into a situation like this eventually.

The orn had stared out like most other orns. The only difference has been that the Ark had landed on a planet that apparently was fairly rich in energon. The planet was also largely uninhabited, save some plant life, so they wouldn’t have to worry too much about harming the local inhabitants. Everything had been going well. They’d managed to collect energon, enough to halfway fill one of the storage hangars, and had been in the process of mining more when the Decepticon attacked.

Blades still wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Maybe they’d landed the Nemesis on the other side in the planet and travelled the rest of the way themselves. Maybe the Nemesis was still above them all, and the ‘Cons had just made planet fall on their own in order to attack. Either way, Megatron and his soldiers had showed up, and once again a battle had begun. Blades hadn’t been near his team or his brothers when the attack had begun, so he hadn’t been able to join them for the fight. That had made him nervous, but he’d fought anyway, shooting at any Decepticons who got close and using the terrain as cover.

It hadn’t been long before there’d been a call for medical attention, and Blades had reacted on instinct. He’d sprung from behind the large stone he was hiding behind, following the call until he came across Cliffjumper and Arcee. The other two-wheeler was unconscious, a shot leaking energon from her neck. Blades had been quick to get Cliffjumper’s help to drag her behind another nearby outcropping, and he’d settled down to begin triage care. As soon as he’d been assured of her survival, he’d swiftly ordered the red mech to bring her to the med-bay. Usually, he didn’t have the rank to order other bots around, but he’d found that all the Autobots would tend to do what he told them when it came to medical matters.

He’d turned to rejoin the battle when Sunstreaker had dragged his twin around the outcropping, dropping Sideswipe with a snarled demand to fix him. Blades hadn’t taken offense. They were split spark twins. They shared a spark bond with each other, like he did with his brothers. It wasn’t the same exact type of bond, but it was close enough that he understood the panic. He’d fixed the severed fuel lines, patched up the sparking wires, and welded the gashes in red armor before telling Sunstreaker to get his brother out of the battlefield. Sideswipe wouldn’t be able to fight further with his wounds, even though Blades had managed to repair the damage completely. He’d need to recover.

It had seemed that, after that, the Autobots must have figured out that the outcropping was where emergency triage was being done. They’d probably passed the information along their comm. system while Blades had been working on Arcee. After the Twins, Blades had found himself busy with many bots. Most had only surface level wounds, injuries that needed a quick patch so they could rejoin the fight. Others needed a full field repair and a retreat, like Sideswipe had. Blaster had been dragged to him by his Cassettes in critical condition, and Blades had had to quickly patch the life threatening damage, then order Ironhide, who’d come in to get a leaking fuel line patched, to take the host mech to Ratchet and First Aid immediately.

Once he’d done that and turned to his next field patient, he’d caught sight of blue and white armor. His processor was deep in its rescue and medical protocols, so much so he initially tuned out all his surroundings. It wasn’t until something in the back of his mind whispered that the shade of blue was familiar that he paused, taking in the full extent of the damage. It was bad. The bot’s chest was the worst off. It looked like they’d been hit point blank with an explosion. The metal armor of the chestplate was melted and twisted, with large areas gone altogether. Blades could see into their chest and realized that even their internals were damaged. The fuel pump was dented and had been pierced with a shard of blue armor, there were several sparking wires and spurting lines, and worst of all, the bot’s spark chamber was caved in and cracked. The motorcycle could see the weak glow of the bot’s spark. That wasn’t even all the damage. The poor bot was missing a leg, and it looked like one of their arms had been practically shredded. Even beyond that, most of the bot’s frame was dented or damaged in some way. Blades could barely pick out the paint job under all the damage.

Even so, his processor started screaming louder as he realized that, despite all that, the colors and patterns of that paint were familiar. Blades froze, his spark almost spasming with dawning horror, and he turned his gaze up to the bot’s face. As soon as he locked onto the slack face, saw the darkened optics that he knew should be a glowing amber, he couldn’t hold back the agonized keen as his medical protocols stuttered.

It was Chase.

His next vent came out in a harsh whine, and he couldn’t take his optics off the slack face of his Amica. Blades almost jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Jazz looking at him with a grim expression. The Third in Command nodded his helm at the prone form of his teammate.

“I know it’s tough’.” he said. “But ya gotta take care o’ him. If he don’t get the care he needs now, he ain’t gonna survive the trip to old’ Ratch. He needs you, mechlin’, so don’t spiral now.”

Blades stared at him for a sparkbeat, and then jolted as if he’d been physically shocked. He turned back to Chase, trying to ignore that it was his Amica who was wounded and dying in front of him, and got to work. He took in the damage once more, fingertips transforming into the tools he needed, and with a hard vent he forced his emotional processes to mute themselves in his processor, letting medical response protocols rise to the surface uninterrupted. Abruptly, his previously distraught EM field went blank and numb, making the bots around him wince with the suddenness if it.

Jazz stepped back, a flicker of regret in his visored optics. He recognized what Blades had done. He’d shut down his emotional response core. It wasn’t something the average bot could do, and he suspected the youngling only knew how to because of his medical training. The only other bot he’d seen do that was Prowl, and the Praxian had to do it if he wanted to come up with his tactics without crippling himself emotionally. Luckily, the emotional core could be brought back online later, but he knew it was never a pleasant process for the bot who had done so to come out of the emotional numbness. He only regretted that Blades had found it necessary to do so in the first place. No youngling should have to do something so drastic. It wasn’t right.

In front of Jazz and the other Autobots who were gathered behind the outcropping for minor repair, Blades worked on. He ignored the sounds of weapons fire and destruction beyond the small safe haven he was huddled in, focusing only on the task in front of him. He had to make sure Chase survived. He had to.

Failure wasn’t an option.

——————————

The rest of the orn passed in a haze. Blades was aware of things distantly, but wasn’t processing anything emotionally. He knew Jazz took Chase off to the Ark as soon as he’d ensured his friend wouldn’t die in the next few groons, until Ratchet or First Aid could get to him. After that, things happened quickly. He’d patched up the other bots around his outcropping who’d only needed minor repair, but he’d had no major patients after that. And then Megatron was calling a retreat, and Ironhide had come to guide Blades back to the Ark. None of the older bots seemed upset at the two-wheeler’s numb demeanor. He was in shock. He knew it. They knew it. They didn’t hold it against him.

Once he had been safely delivered to the starship, Ironhide had gone off. Blades wasn’t paying attention to where he’d gone. Maybe some of the others were gathering the last of the energon. Maybe everyone was preparing for take off. He wasn’t fully aware, wasn’t fully processing his surroundings. He drifted along in a haze, until he found himself in front of the medbay doors. That was when his focus sharpened. Usually after a battle, he’d join Ratchet and his brother in the medbay and do his part to help. He needed to go in.

The only thing making him hesitate was Chase. His Amica was in there. He’d done all he could on the battlefield, but had it been enough? Could he face it again?

He would have to. He stiffened his spinal strut and steeled his resolve, then stepped forward and the doors opened. He stepped into the medbay, his optics roving over the occupied berths, until they landed on a trio of berths by the far wall. On one, there was a familiar blue and white frame. Chase. On the second, a red mech lay prone and limp. Heatwave. On the third, a bulky green bot was resting on his side, unconscious and unaware. Boulder.

No.

Blades’s spark screamed in agony. He could see some of the damage from here, but he couldn’t see it all. Heatwave’s lower half looked like it had been crushed under something extremely heavy. The metal armor was dented and almost flattened. Blades could also see that the red mech’s optics were blackened and shattered, if if they’d been hit by a blaster bolt. Boulder wasn’t much better off. His entire back was a melted, twisted mess. Blades could see his spinal strut poking out of the ruined armor. There was so much energon. All three of his teammates were covered in it. It almost looked like they’d decided to incorporate pink into their paint jobs.

An agonized keen tore its way free from his vocalizer, and and medical protocols he had been ready to engage fell away under the onslaught of emotional anguish. He didn’t notice how First Aid had gasped and pressed a hand to his chest plates the second he’d noticed Sigma-17’s damaged states. He didn’t hear his brother call out to him in concern as he keened. He didn’t see Ratchet curse and begin to turn towards him, looking both irritated and worried.

He did, however, feel the hands that clasped his shoulders, the chest that pressed up against his back. He startled, drawing in a rasping gasp, and then he felt a soft warmth wrap around his spark. He knew that presence.

“Streetwise.” he whimpered, twisting to stare up at his oldest brother with wide, over-bright optics.

“Hey, Blades.” Streetwise gave him a small smile. “Let’s go, yeah?”

“B-But I have to stay. I need-“

“Ratchet and ‘Aid can handle it. This was an easy battle. They handled a lot worse than this before you came along.” he cut it. “You won’t be of any use in the state you’re in, Blades. Besides, I’m fairly sure it goes against medical code to come in and treat patients when you’re covered in filth from outside.” he said sternly.

Blades made to protest, but the soothing pulse in his spark from First Aid distracted him enough that Streetwise was able to guide him out of the medbay. He started gently ushering his brother towards the communal washracks, making sure Blades didn’t run into anyone in his shocked state.

“Streetwise, I gotta go back. They need me, I-I can’t-“

“None of that now. You did plenty today. Blades, let them handle it. Your well-being matters too. Right now, that’s actually all I care about. Your team will be fine. Have faith in Ratchet and ‘Aid, yeah?”

Blades whimpered, but he didn’t have the chance to argue further because that was when they came upon the washracks. Hot Spot was there, and he grimaced when he saw the state of his brother, but he forced a smile a moment later and reached out to rub Blades’s audial fins in a way he knew the smaller bot liked. The finial under his fingers quivered faintly, and Hot Spot wrapped a hand around Blades’s wrist to tug him into the washracks. He’d managed to get the others out earlier, and they’d been fairly understanding when he’d explained that Blades was in shock and needed a proper cleaning.

“Come on, bitty Blades.” The largest Protectobot whispered. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? You’re covered in energon, that can’t feel good.”

Blades went stiff at his brother’s words, looking down at his frame and noticing for the first time that his armor was covered in energon. Chase’s energon. A pained whine was pulled from his vocalizer, and Hot Spot winced when he realized he’d said the wrong thing.

Streetwise shot the bigger bot an unimpressed look, but both knew that talking to Blades now would be useless. The smallest Protectobot, though not by too much, had always been prone to worry and panic. Blades was an anxious bot, it was just part of who he was. It meant that sometimes, his worry overcame him and he spiraled. His brothers could always tell when that happened, because his spark pulsed almost frantically and they could sense the overwhelming panic through the bond. When Blades got like this, he lost awareness of his surroundings. They’d long since learned that the best way to soothe him was to use the bond and send comfort and safety along it, to wrap their brother’s spark in feelings of love and reassurance and peace, and pull him out of his panic that way. Thankfully, Blades didn’t spiral often. He was overly nervous, sure, but he’d never let it stop him from doing what was needed of him, and he’d learned to not let it control him. That didn’t mean his emotions didn’t get the better of him sometimes, though.

Hot Spot gently tugged them all over to one of the cubicles, where he’d already grabbed the items they needed. With all three of them in there, it was a little crowded, but they could make it work. The spray of solvent was turned on, and Blades barely twitched as it hit his frame. Neither Streetwise nor Hot Spot were bothered as their younger brother remained silent. They worked together to clean up the mess that was Blades, using wash rags to wipe away the dirt and energon, and then smaller brushes to get in between the armor plating and into the transformation seams. It took some time, especially with Blades so unresponsive, but eventually they had him fully cleaned and dried, and were tugging him back towards their berthroom.

Blades himself was still in a daze. The energon was gone from his armor, and that certainly helped, but he couldn’t stop thinking of his teammates in such dire condition in the medbay. He couldn’t get the image of Chase’s broken frame on the battlefield out of his processor.

Blades was a gentle spark, perhaps even more so than his easy-going flyer brother. Groove was a pacifist, and Blades was deeply empathetic and his brothers knew that he felt things on an emotional level far more keenly than they were really able to grasp. The rest of the Protectobots had been able to adapt to the War, especially since their introduction to it had been more gradual. But Blades, who had always hated seeing anyone hurt, to the point he’d taken any extra classes he could at the Rescue Academy just to be able to help as many others as he could? The War was hard on him. He’d adapt, in time, but with how sudden his introduction to it had been it would be a while yet before the violence stopped making him so upset.

The trio eventually arrived at their berthroom, and when the door closed behind them Blades felt Streetwise and Hot Spot move away from him. A klik later, he felt another frame press against him, and a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. It took only a beat for him to recognize Groove. He whimpered, his fingers twitching and clinging to the copter bot. Blades felt soothing warmth wrap around his spark from the bond, coming from all four of his brothers. Love, warmth, assurance, and peace soaked into his spark, and Blades let out a broken noise as everything from the day crashed into him.

Groove crooned gently, tightening his grip on his younger brother. “Easy, Blades.” he whispered. “We have you. We won’t let you fall, yeah? Just let it out.” he soothed.

Blades shuddered, then sobbed and clung tighter to his brother. He felt Streetwise press up against his back, and Hot Spot’s arms came to way around them all. The four of them stood there for a while, Blades sobbing and gasping as all his panic and worry rushed through him at once. He hadn’t been able to really process it, before. That was the danger of muting ones emotional core, as he had done earlier. It meant that he’d need to handle the emotions he’d blocked off all at once instead of steadily and as they came. So, he was forced to stay in his brothers’ hold, letting them keep him from falling as everything crashed into him. For many breems, he wept into Groove’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with the force of what he was feeling.

But, finally, his cries petered out, and then he was just venting harshly, shaking faintly in the aftermath of it all. He felt Hot Spot smooth a hand down his side, then come back up to rub his finial before his biggest brother spoke.

“How about we watch some of that old drama we used to like before the War? We still have the whole series downloaded on the old travel holo-pad. I know you missed a lot of the episodes that came out while you were in stasis, bitty Blades.” he said.

Blades reset his vocalizer, wincing at his staticky and rough his voice was even after doing so. “You have the whole series of But a Chance?”

Streetwise hummed. “You bet we do. We kept downloading the new episodes that came out after…” he paused, trailing off. Blades knew what he was talking about. “Well, we kept downloading the new ones. Never watched them, though. Not beyond the ones that came out before them Purge.”

“Didn’t feel right. Not without you there to make all your little comments.” Hot Spot quipped.

Blades huffed a weak sound of amusement. “You still watched some without me, though.”

“Awe, only a couple, bitty Blades.” Hot Spot smiled. “Not too many. So? What do you say?”

Blades gave another huff. “Yeah.” he agreed,

“Good, because I’ve already got it set up.” Groove said cheerfully.

“Presumptuous.” Streetwise teased.

“Shut it. You’re the one who told me to prepare for a Blades Cheer Up Night.” Groove snipped back.

“We all knew it was time for a Blades Cheer Up Night. Why are you sparklings arguing?” Hot Spot asked playfully.

“I’m older than you.” Streetwise said, frowning.

“Only by half a breem.” Hot Spot sang.

“And I’m not a sparkling!” Groove protested.

“Hush, little brother.” the two older Protectobots said at the same time.

Blades giggled weakly. “Yeah, hush. The big bots are talking.” he rasped.

Groove turned an offended look on him. “We’re all older than you. And bigger.” he sniffed.

“I’m prettier though.”

There were noises of outrage around him, and Blades felt his lips quirk up. Even as Hot Spot tweaked his finial in retaliation, he just felt his smile relax a little more. His spark was still heavy with grief and fear, but already it felt warmer and lighter. He didn’t protest as Streetwise eventually got the other two to simmer down, pushing them all towards the large berth. At the head of the berth, the holo-pad was set up on a small desk. As soon as all four brothers were settled, Groove started the episode Blades remembered having left off on, and they settled down to watch.

Things were peaceful, for a while. They got another episode in, and Blades couldn’t help himself then as he watched the characters go about on screen.

“I’m sorry, Clearview did what now? That’s stupid. She’s stupid. Why would she even do that?”

“Well,” Groove purred. “It could be because she’s actually-“

“No!” Blades hissed, drawing back a pede and planting it firmly in his brother’s hip, sending the flyer tumbling off the berth. “No spoilers!”

Groove cackled, but crawled back onto the berth and flopped on top of his younger brother. “Okay, okay. Have it your way.”

“You two are being far too loud for anyone else to enjoy to show.” Streetwise said blandly.

“Blame Groove.” Blades sniffed. “He started it.”

“You’re the one who kicked me!” Groove squawked, outraged.

“I will not be spoiled! Bots who spoil the show for other bots recharge on the couch, remember? That’s the rule!”

“Well, we don’t have a couch.” Groove said smugly. “So there.”

“We have a floor, don’t we?”

“I’m not recharging on the floor!”

“You are if I make you!”

“Try it!”

“Fine!” Blades huffed, and proceeded to launch himself at his brother.

Groove yelped, not expecting Blades to actually go through with it, and the two wrestled on the berth before their elder brothers pulled them apart. Streetwise grabbed Groove and rolled on top of him, while Hot Spot dragged Blades into his lap and wrapped the motorcycle in his arms.

“Hush.” he admonished. “It’s show time now, not wrestle like feral sparklings time.”

“We’re not sparklings!” Groove and Blades protested in unison.

“Then stop acting like it. Now shut up and watch.” Streetwise said, though they could all hear the grin in his voice.

There were grumbling protests, but the two younger bots obeyed and went still. After another couple episodes, they were released to drape across each other. Time wore on, and the Ark slipped into it’s nightly recharge cycle. By this time, Blades’s brothers were in recharge themselves, curled around and on top of each other while Blades himself continued to watch the drama. He was waiting, after all.

Another groon passed, and the door to their berthroom opened. First Aid trudged in, exhaustion hanging from his frame. He went straight for the berth, tipping right into it and not even bothering to get his legs in. Blades huffed a laugh, gently tugging his younger brother up into the berth. He reached out to turn off the holo-pad, then refocused on First Aid as the youngest Protectobot cuddled firmly into his side. He knew his brother was tired. Pit, he could feel the depths of First Aid’s exhaustion over the bond. But he had to know.

“‘Aid? Are they…?”

“They’re fine.” First Aid mumbled. “They’ll make a full recovery. You don’t have to worry, Blades.”

All at once, the last of the fear and worry left him, and Blades released all tension in his frame with a heavy vent. “Thank you.” he whispered.

First Aid hummed softly. “‘Course. They took care of you when we couldn’t. I won’t let you lose your team if I can help it, Blades. ‘Specially not your Amica.” he mumbled, his words slurring towards the end.

Blades smiled, his arms wrapping around the little medic as First Aid nuzzled into his embrace. “Yeah.” he murmured. They really had taken care of him. “Recharge, ‘Aid. You need it.”

“You too.”

“I will.” Blades agreed. “Goodnight, little brother.”

“‘Night.” First Aid made a sleepy, content churring noise. “Love you…”

Blades blinked, then tightened his grip around him. “Yeah.” he whispered. “Love you too.”

He watched his youngest brother drift off into recharge, then offlined his optics ans let himself drift off as well. Just before he fell unconscious, he felt Groove roll on top of them both, and Hot Spot’s arms coming around all three of them. From the other side of the largest Protectobot, Streetwise’s hand came to rest on Blades’s head, his thumb twitching against his finial.

Comfortable and warm, his frame and spark both surrounded by the peace and love of his brothers, Blades drifted off into recharge, his rest easy and quiet with the reassurance that his Amica and his team would recover. His spark was warm with the sheer joy, adoration, and contentment that pulsed all along the bond, and his rest was easy and undisturbed.

Beyond the walls of the Ark, the stars were silent.

———————————————————————————————————

And here it is! What did y’all think? For those who don’t remember, the Purge that Streetwise mentioned was the massacre of the Rescue Bots.

Also, poor Blades. He has it rough. At least he’s not alone, right?

Let me know how you liked that! If you want more of this verse, I might expand on it after I take care of more prompts. (Or you could request a specific scenario yourself.)

Until next time, folks!

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Note

Yandere alien Bucky x astronaut darling

I find this request very unique! I’ve never actually thought about this before, so thank you for bringing this creative idea <3

P.S. The action takes place in the future.

The Reason

Pairing: alien!Bucky Barnes x astronaut!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, death of minor characters, allusion to breeding and non-con.

Words: 2985.

_____________________

When you finally managed to open your eyes, everything was pitch black for a couple of minutes. Your body hurt so much as if someone threw you into a well, then pulled your dead body out, and threw it back in. The oxygen mask on your face felt heavy as hell.

You easily recognized the monotonous sounds of life support system since it wasn’t your first space mission. Damn, what had happened? Did you finally get that significant brain damage Dr. Strange was so concerned about? You didn’t remember blacking out so violently after your last spaceflights. This one wasn’t even your longest.

When you saw the room, you stared at the unnaturally high ceiling that you couldn’t blame on your blurry vision. It just didn’t look the same. Did they move the Adaptation Center to a new building or something? Did Dr. Strange mentioned it before? You couldn’t remember, really. You didn’t think he did.

Despite the fact that you felt weightless, moving your body seemed nearly impossible as you struggled to move your legs. Shit, and there you thought those magic drugs NASA offered you last time were way better than their usual treatments.

Wait. You didn’t finish your mission. You weren’t returning to Earth yet as you had around 6 more months to spend in space. Had something happened? Did Dr. Str-

Oh yes. Dr. Strange was dead. You still remembered his face when Sergeant Barnes, an extraterrestrial from Theseus-17, had shot him right in front of you.

When you saved them from their greatly damaged spacecraft, it was five of them: Steve Rogers, the Captain, their leader; Tony Stark, the Pilot; Bruce Banner, the Doctor; Vision, the Pastor, and James Buchanan Barnes, the Soldier. All of them simply used human analogues of their true names, but the members of your crew didn't protest: since Theseus-17 was incredibly far even for your highly technologically advanced spaceships, you knew very little of its inhabitants. Apparently, they attempted to establish a good relationship between your races - especially since you had so much biological similarities. In fact, they might be the closest to humans among other species you had ever encountered before, you thought.

Well, it was true, but you failed to see they would use it to their advantage to the fullest.

They were a militaristic alien race with predominantly male population controlled by stratocratic government. Their planet was three times smaller than Earth, but their technological advancement was unbelievable, especially compared to human's: it allowed them to invade several other small planets and colonize them in the past. However, due to some extreme DNA mutations, their female population was declining decade after decade resulting in zero births over the last five years. The Hydrarirans, as they called themselves, were rapidly facing extinction, Steve told you while explaining the reasons why they were so far from their home.

You had a pretty long talk after Bucky had shot Dr. Strange, and Tony strangled Wong. You barely remembered what had happened next, though you could guess you ended up being drugged by Hydrarians. Fuck. Did you send a signal back to Earth? You couldn't tell. Well, you certainly remembered Dr. Strange sending a message about saving the crew of Theseus-17 spacecraft. If you went missing, it would be a clear sign of something going very wrong.

But you still were God knew where. Gradually becoming extremely nervous with each passing second, you looked at the countless wires attached to your body and started to pull, forcefully taking them out of your skin and silently crying - you didn't remember feeling so much pain since the times of your first space mission. Violently throwing away the oxygen mask, you crawled on the bed until you fell to the floor with a loud thud. Shit.

You stayed there for a couple of minutes, afraid Hydrarians would quickly discover what you were doing, but since you heard nothing, you crawled further from bed to a wide glass wall, your vision still blurry. Where were you? It didn't feel like a spacecraft. It felt like you were brought to an unknown planet, and when you saw two red suns shining in the black sky, you realized it was exactly like Steve described his planet to you.

No, no, it couldn't be. Theseus-17 was God knew how many light years away. Their ship wasn't in the condition to fly you there so fast, yours even less so, and you certainly hadn't been put in a cryostasis. However, how well did you know what technology these alien freaks possessed? What if they could be using some teleport able to cover enormous distances? It could easily be an option.

Crawling further to the window, you had finally reached it and touched its cold surface. It certainly looked and felt like a glass beneath your palm.

The black meadows you stared upon were nothing like the ones you saw from a window of the little house where you spent your childhood. This place was wicked, evil. You could feel it in the air as you inhaled that strange, sickly sweet oxygen or whatever it was. No wonder their women couldn't handle living here, and you wouldn't last here either. It was clear what you were brought here for, and even the thought of it was repulsive to you. How dare they? How barbaric were these freaks, intending to use human women as some breeding machinery? If their military experiments made them facing extinction, then let it be, you thought, horrified and disgusted at the same time.

You rubbed your droopy eyes, feeling the wetness on the back of your palm as you tried not to cry, thinking what were your options except to submit silently to your abductors. How were you going to navigate a ship back home? How were you going to steal a ship? Actually, how were you going to leave this damn room, considering that your body was almost unable to move because of the time you spent in space? Recovery would take quite some time, unless Hydrarians had advanced medical support for cosmonauts. You hoped they did, because spending months to recover while staying with these savages wasn't an option.

Huh, it was better to listen to your mom and become a doctor. Now you'd be sitting in your cabinet and listening to concerns of elderly ladies, not being locked away on a planet with no female population. You had hard times imagining what they would do to you if you end up being thrown in a crowd of mad men yearning for intimacy for years.

Rubbing your eyes again, you exhaled loudly. You were in deep, deep shit.

When the white wall beside you suddenly moved to the side, allowing a tall, menacing man in a black military suit to enter, you held your breath, watching Sergeant Barnes walking into the room. You thought of his metal hand with a red star engraved on it - he could snap your neck with one swift motion if he wanted to, though he could probably do it with his flesh hand, too. Certainly, he was both skilled in combat and cybernetically enhanced, so escaping with him guarding you would be extremely problematic. You'd prefer to meet Vision instead of the grim Soldier.

"What are you doing, woman?" Barnes asked as he saw you on the floor with your back pressed to the glass wall, your arms bleeding from violently tearing the wires of the life support system out of your body. Apparently, you didn't look as good as he expected you to.

"A woman has a name." You said sternly, watching one of your abductors marched through the room and trying your best not to tremble. If he was raised in a stratocratic society, he valued power and strong will more than anything else, probably, so you had to pull yourself together.

“I am sorry.” He suddenly said, bowing his head as he stood right in front of you. “If it pleases you, I will refer to you by your name only, Y/N.”

You blinked, your vision still unfocused and blurry - a part of you was thankful for that since you couldn’t see Soldier’s face clearly. You doubted he looked very friendly, despite talking to you with some respect.

“Don’t touch me.” You commanded as he leaned closer to take you back to bed, his shiny combat boots touching your bare leg just slightly, making you shiver involuntarily.

“We have medication to nurse you back to health, but you still need the life support system. Please, do not resist.” Sergeant Barnes once again tried to pick you up, but you grabbed him by the wrist instead, silently staring at his pale face half-covered by that black mask he wore.

The man got silent and froze on the spot, looking at you with a strange glint in his eyes. He certainly didn’t seem menacing or angry, but there was something in him you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Why wasn’t he upset by your behavior? Soldier didn’t try grabbing you forcefully, nevertheless.

Could it be your contact, then? You might be the first woman to touch him in years. Thinking of it, the very next moment you recoiled, crawling away to increase the distance between you two.

Maybe the man was disappointed, but you couldn’t see it with that blank expression he wore as he suddenly sat down on the floor close to you, and then took his mask away, showing you his rather handsome, yet gloomy face. He looked... human, and it truly scared you.

“I know you think we are a threat to you, but we are not.” He said calmly, watching you. “I will not hurt you. I promise.”

You were ready to laugh at that. “You’ve killed my crew, people who I’d been working with for years.”

“Yes, and I am sorry for that. It was necessary.”

Necessary. What an interesting word he found to describe what he and his comrades had done.

“Don’t you understand what will happen once people from Earth learn about you and things you did?” As he cocked his head to the side, his dark uneven hair falling on his shoulder, you realized he wasn’t scared at all. “We can wipe you out of existence. Even if all of your kind are soldiers, there are billions of us, humans. You aren’t a threat.”

“We are not trying to be one.”

He extended his hand in attempt to touch you, but you recoiled and crawled away a bit further, narrowing your eyes at Sergeant. Whatever he was doing, it couldn’t be good for you.

“Please, do not be afraid. Right now you are the most precious being on our planet, and anyone trying to hurt you will be beheaded at the very least.”

Of course, you were. If Captain told you the truth, you were the one and only young woman on Hydra. You would be treasured, but you dreaded what they would do to you. Even thinking of it made you face twist in revulsion.

“What makes you think using me like a cattle won’t hurt me?”

“A cattle?”

For a few seconds Soldier got silent, and you realized he was searching the meaning of this word - now you managed to see a strange device on his ear that looked like an old Bluetooth garniture or something. Then the man looked at you with a surprised expression on his face, and you felt an urge to bite your tongue to stop thinking how human he appeared now.

“I assure you, you will never be degraded to such an inferior being. On the contrary, we can give you anything you wish for. I know the status of women on Earth is still far from being equal to men’s, but you are godlike to us.”

Carefully lifting his hand again, Barnes had took a shiny black glove from his flesh arm and showed you his hand with five fingers, spreading them for you to see he was as human as you. For the first time you felt like you wanted to cry, and bit down on your lower lip. God, why? Why did he look just like any other man? Why was he trying to seem kind to you? It would be so much easier if he was hurting you, pressing your face into the floor and binding your arms.

“I swear to you on the name of my mother, I will do anything in my power to make you happy.”

Apparently, it was some sacred oath, judging by the way his cold blue eyes gleamed, but you weren’t buying it. Make you happy? The one and only thing he could do was letting you go back home, to your own kind, and allow you to forget what had happened above your ship, the image of Dr. Strange with a wide hole in his chest still making you clench your fists.

“Why are you so sure we are a good substitute? If your own women weren’t able to survive here, what makes you think human females can?”

“Because our extensive research proves it. Moreover, a couple of human females have already been living here for several years.” Your face became distorted with horror at his words. “Captain’s wife was even able to give birth to two healthy children this year. They are the first children to be born on our planet in the last five years.”

“Humans will destroy your planet. They will kill all of you when they learn you’re kidnapping our women!”

“We are already in contact with your kind.” Dropping the glove to the floor, Barnes attempted to smile at you, confirming your suspicions he barely knew how to do it. “It is true, you are much greater in number than we are. But all of us are warriors with far more advanced technology and abundant resources. We will be able to damage your planet heavily before you eradicate each and every of us.”

The more he talked, the harder it was to follow - without the life support system, the lack of oxygen was making it harder for you to breathe, impossible to focus as you started breathing heavier, louder than before, but still refused to come back to bed, staring at the man in front of you with disgust and fear. God, it was better to suffocate than stay here with him.

“Do you know we possess twenty times more the amount of Vibranium you humans do?” Crawling closer to you like a spider, Soldier was watching you with both great interest and concern written all over his face. “We also have tritium and plutonium, too, as well as minerals you do not have on Earth at all. We are ready to trade them for something humans have in abundance.”

You were close to vomit, your eyes tearing up as you rubbed them furiously. You tried convincing yourself no one knew you were going to be captured by ruthless aliens. Of course, no one on Earth knew anything about that. There was no agreement between Theseus-17 and Earth to trade women for Vibranium and other resources. It would be direct violations of human rights and...

And it was very likely of humans to do, considering the lack of resources you had been facing over the last couple of decades.

When you started weeping, horrified of the things awaiting you in the nearest future, Sergeant finally reached you, wiping away your tears with his flesh hand. His touch was very subtle, gentle even, as he tenderly pressed his finger to your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin. His hand was warm, too.

“It’s not true.” You cried, turning your face to the glass wall and leaving wet marks on it. “They’ll come for me... I won’t become s-some shared property.”

“Of course you will not,” he shushed you gently, enveloping you in what seemed like a hug, lowering your head to his shoulder. “You will be a queen to me. I will treat you right, I swear.”

“You?”

Stilling, you bit down on your tongue, feeling the metallic taste filling your mouth as you drew some blood. Concentrating when your brain was lacking oxygen wasn’t easy, but you could still breathe, inhaling deeply, trying to calm yourself. He said something about Captain’s wife, didn’t he? He said she gave him two children. He said you wouldn’t become a shared property.

Dear Lord.

“I won’t be yours.” You whispered through tears, pushing the man’s chest in desperate attempt to keep him away from you. “I’m not your possession. I won’t be yours!”

You saw him frowning at you, his expression growing darker, more impatient, enraged even as you crawled away from him, your legs too weak to hold you. Oh, he didn’t like you looking at him like that when you realized you were given to him like some prize he won in an amusement park.

But Soldier wasn’t having it. Had you ever thought what it cost him to spend years in combat to earn his privileges, his right to travel among the best of the best? Did you know how much time he travelled across multiple universes to find exactly what he was searching for? Huh, you couldn’t even imagine what he felt when the team got coordinates of your ship, when he saw you for the first time on hologram, smiling and laughing at jokes of Dr. Strange.

Grabbing you forcefully and lifting you off the floor, he raised you in the air above his head, making you silent in fear of being smashed against the floor.

“I have fought for you.” He let out a guttural growl like an animal. “I have killed for you. I have earned my privilege to have you, and no one can challenge my right. You are my woman, and you will stay here with me.”

________________________

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#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere #mcu #mcu fanfiction #requests

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mirrorscomic · 3 years

Text

MIRRORS: CHAPTER 7

Summary: In Mainverse, the appearance of the pair from Villainverse has apparently caught the attention of the gods. Will this attention be a good thing, or perhaps be a problem?

Author Notes: i'm back finally with another chapter! this is a special chapter that marks the beginning of the original mirrorsverse context; this is no longer taking place in the dragon ball universe! some changes have been made to the story and characters, such as names and designs, as well as an art style shift! i hope you enjoy the changes ive made! <3

Another day passes in the Land of Creation--the realm where the Gods of Creation reside. Here, a creator god sits by herself in a field, seeming concentrated on one area of the sky. A figure creeps up quietly behind her, not making a sound…

“So, what is the North Creator up to today, then?”

She’s startled, but her body relaxes when she realizes who has joined her, and she lets out an annoyed sigh. “Oro, don’t you have better things to do than bother me? Go back and watch over the South Quadrant like you’re supposed to. I have bigger things to worry about over here.”

“Oh?” The other creator god, Oro, looks out to try and see what she is looking at. “Like what?”

“A lemurian living on Earth. His counterpart from a parallel universe somehow hopped through the cosmos with a wormhole and came to stay with him for a few days. I’m keeping an eye on him for now to make sure he doesn’t try doing the same thing.”

“A lemurian?” Oro seems interested. He squints, focusing where she is concentrated on. His vision flies through the galaxy, zooming in on one particular spot of planet Earth, where a lemurian farmer and his mother are seeming to practice. It’s Patoto and Zumeg, and Zumeg is encouraging her son.

“Come on, Patoto, you can do it! Dig deeper!”

“I’m trying…!” Patoto says as he seems to be straining himself to power up. In an abrupt blast of power, he achieves Super Lemurian--something he’s used to--but this time, he’s trying to reach a higher level.

The sight amazes Oro, and he widens his eyes. “What in the world is that?”

The other god doesn’t look from her spot. “It’s called Super Lemurian. Their race can achieve transformations like that to grow more powerful. There’s also a Super Lemurian Two, which is what I assume this lemurian is trying to reach. There may even be a third level.”

Oro watches in awe. “Such power…”

...should be used by a god.

He stands up straight and waves his hand as he turns to leave. “Well, you have fun with that. I’ll be off back to my own business.”

The other god frowns a little. “It’s about time.”

As Oro walks away, he glances over his shoulder with a rather devious expression.

Back on Earth, Patoto leans over onto his knees, obviously winded from all the exertion. “Phew… I think I’m gettin’ closer!”

Zumeg smiles and walks over to pat his back. “I think you are, too. Your energy seems a lot more intense now than it was before.” She walks by him, then. “I’ll go get us some drinks. You deserve a break. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay!”

As Zumeg disappears into the house, Patoto is left to stretch happily. However, almost immediately, his body transforms into that of the creation god, Oro. He’s confused by his new, smaller appearance, looking down at himself. “H-huh? What the--?”

“This is a very interesting planet you have here.”

Patoto looks over to where the voice came from. There floating in the air is what looks to be himself, wearing strange new clothes and earrings. Patoto is even more confused than he was before. “H-hey… That’s my face!”

His copy grins wickedly. “Finders, keepers, I guess. Hm…” He looks over Patoto’s clothes, seeming to inspect them for a moment before waving his hand over his own body. His wardrobe changes to that of Patoto’s suddenly, except this version is all black. He grins and holds out his hands to his sides. “Blends in a little better, don’t you think?”

Just as this happens, Zumeg returns from the house with two drinks. She stops in her tracks when she sees the scene playing out before her, furrowing her brow. “What in the world?”

Patoto looks back at her. “Mom!!” He quickly makes his way over to his mother and points at the false Patoto. “Mom, this stranger stole my body…!”

She looks at him confusedly. “What…?”

“Please believe me!” Patoto urges. “I’m Patoto! That guy over there isn’t me; he stole my face!”

Zumeg looks back at the apparent copycat. He has a sick smirk on his lips, which causes her to frown. “... I believe you. My son would never look at me like that.”

Setting the drinks down, she walks away from the real Patoto and glares at the newcomer. “Who the hell are you? What do you want with my son?”

The fake Patoto sticks up his nose with a grin. “It makes sense that you wouldn’t know me. I am Oro, one of the five Creators of your universe.”

“Creators? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand. To put it simply, I am a god of your world.”

Patoto looks at his hands. “A...god? Y’mean I have a god’s body right now?”

“Yes. But, I don’t expect you to know how to use it, heh.”

Zumeg chimes in. “What would a god want with my son, then?”

Oro folds his arms behind his back, looking around at the scenery. “I was watching you all from my world and I saw something amazing. You transformed and became much more powerful than you were before. I saw this power and realized that it was much more suitable for a god than it was a measly mortal. So, I wanted to try it out for myself.”

“So, you stole my son’s body?” “Borrowed without asking.” Oro raises a hand and charges up an energy ball with it. “I wanted to play around with it for a while.”

Realizing what’s about to happen, Zumeg dives back towards Patoto and tackles him out of the way just before a ball of energy hits the ground where he stood. Once they’re safe, she turns back and snarls at Oro. “Hey!!”

Oro doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. He’s looking at his hand, mesmerized. “Amazing… Even at base strength, the power is incredible. Now, for that transformation…”

Zumeg and Patoto watch as Oro channels his energy through his body, yelling as he does so. In a sudden burst, his hair turns blonde and his eyes go crimson, completing the transformation to Super Lemurian. He looks back at his hands, smiling. “Amazing…! I’m overflowing with immense power! This transformation is outstanding!”

Zumeg starts walking towards him. “Alright, you’ve had your fun! Give my son back his body!”

She charges at him with a punch, but he blocks it easily with his finger. In response, she begins to throw a flurry of punches, but he blocks all of them with a finger as well, almost taunting her. With a smirk, he suddenly whaps her away with his tail, and she goes flying.

Patoto is watching from the ground in dismay when he’s suddenly joined by another person seemingly out of thin air. He turns to look at them--a woman with pink skin and white hair, similar in appearance to his current body. “W-who are you?”

She turns to look at him. “I am Enlil, a God of Creation. I’m the Creator in charge of your universe quadrant. I’m here to stop Oro from causing more trouble than he already has.”

Patoto blinks. “You’re a god, too?”

Behind them, Kinpa and Evelyn come hurrying out of the house, apparently having heard the ruckus outside. Evelyn looks at the two standing in front of the porch. “What’s goin’ on out here?”

She notices Zumeg and Oro in the sky as they fight. “What in the world are they doin’ up there?”

“Your son’s body has been stolen by a god who thinks he can just do whatever he wants,” replies Enlil. She gestures towards the real Patoto beside her. “This is your Patoto.”

Patoto’s eyes start to tear up. “Mama…”

As he rushes over and hugs her, Evelyn looks startled. “P-Patoto…?”

Kinpa looks from Patoto up to the dueling lemurians. “So… That’s not Patoto? That’s a god in Patoto’s body? How did he switch bodies like that?”

“He used objects called the wishing stones on a planet called Phibia to wish it that way,” Enlil explains. “Unfortunately, those wishing stones can only be used once a year. I have to find a way to keep him at bay until they can be used again.”

Kinpa thinks for a moment. “Wishing stones…? Hey, don’t we have those on Earth? I remember an icejin talking about them.”

Enlil looks over at him in surprise. “Really?” She proceeds to close her eyes for a moment in silence, and she then opens them again. “You’re right! How did I not see them before? There’s a phibian on this planet who has a set.” She turns to Kinpa and holds out her hand. “Come with me. I need someone with me in case something goes wrong.”

Kinpa looks at her hand before hesitantly taking it. “U-um… Okay.”

In an instant, the two teleport away, leaving Evelyn there with Patoto. The next thing they know, they’ve arrived at what seems to be a campsite in the middle of a forest somewhere. As they look around, someone opens the door to the little hut that is sitting in front of them.

A green-skinned individual, the phibian in question, comes out and blinks. “Oh! Can I help you?”

Enlil steps forward. “We don't have much time to explain, but we need to use your wishing stones. There’s a crisis that could eventually endanger the whole world if we don’t stop it right now.”

The phibian looks them over. It doesn’t take long for him to nod in approval. “Okay. I can tell your intentions are good. Let me get them for you.” He starts to disappear into his hut, but he looks over his shoulder first. “Name’s Kigai, by the way! It’s nice to meet you. Now, give me one second…”

Back on the farm, Zumeg and Oro continue their fight as Evelyn and Patoto watch in concern. Zumeg is getting beaten back pretty good by Oro, who hasn’t even broken a sweat. The god dodges elegantly away from every punch.

“This was fun for a while,” he muses, “but now it’s starting to get annoying. You’re persistent; I’ll give you that. But…”

He points two fingers at her before firing a laser beam through her chest. She falls to the ground lifelessly as Evelyn and Patoto watch in shock.

“You should know never to cross a god.”

“How do we summon the dragon?”

Kigai looks at Enlil after finishing arranging the wishing stones on the ground. “Like this…” He hovers his hands above the stones. “Wish dragon Shtelru, by your name, I summon you!”

The stones begin to glow a brilliant blue, and then, suddenly, an energy beam shoots upward out from them. From the beam forms a giant dragon, towering above the group. Kigai and Enlil seem unfazed, but Kinpa is blown away from the size of the creature.

Soon enough, the dragon speaks. “Speak your wishes now, and I will grant them, if it is within my power,” he booms.

Kigai gestures to Shtelru, turning to Enlil. “Go ahead.”

Enlil steps forward. “Great dragon, I wish for you to switch Oro and Patoto’s bodies back to normal!”

Shtelru’s eyes glow a bright red. “Very well. It is done.”

In an instant, Oro and Patoto’s bodies swap back to their original owners. Oro looks down at his body in confusion. “What?!”

Meanwhile, Enlil turns to Kinpa. “Kinpa, you stay here. I need to make sure it worked. I’ll be back.” She looks up at the dragon again. “Shtelru, can you wait just a moment?”

“Do not make me wait long.”

“I won’t.”

Enlil teleports back to the farm, leaving Kinpa to stand with Kigai. When she arrives, she’s greeted by the scene of Evelyn holding her wife on the ground, sobbing over her body.

“Zumeg…!” Evelyn cries. “Zumeg, wake up…!”

Enlil is shocked. She looks to where Patoto is standing with his fists clenched tightly at his sides, now in his own body. He is trembling.

“You… You shoulda never hurt my mom,” he growls. The air around him begins to crackle as his energy spikes. Suddenly, he explodes with power, his hair turning blonde and his eyes burning red. Tears are streaming down his face. “I’ll make you pay!!!”

He launches himself at a surprised Oro, who proceeds to get the punch of his life directly to the face.

He’s flung back through the trees, crashing through the forest before skidding to a stop in a ditch formed by the impact of his body on the ground. He opens his eyes just in time to see Patoto flying towards him, and he just barely dodges an intensely-powerful blow that instead strikes the ground below him. Patoto snaps around as Oro tries to fly away, grabbing him by the leg before slamming him directly into the ground.

While this is happening, Enlil stands over Evelyn. “Wait right here. I can fix this, I promise.”

She teleports back to the others at Kigai’s camp, wasting no time before speaking again. “Zumeg was killed. Can Shtelru bring her back?”

Kigai nods. “As long as she hasn’t been brought back before, yes.”

“Okay.” She looks up at the dragon once more. “Shtelru, I have another wish!”

Shtelru’s thunderous voice responds, “Speak it now, before I run out of patience.”

“I wish for the lemurian Zumeg to be brought back to life!”

Once again, the dragon’s eyes glow brightly as he grants the wish. “It is done.”

Miraculously, thanks to Shtelru, Zumeg’s eyes flutter open as Evelyn cries over her. She sits up, surprising Evelyn in the best way. Evelyn hugs her tightly. “Oh, honey, I thought you were gone…!”

Zumeg rubs her head. “What happened…? Where’s--”

She looks up to see Patoto kicking the absolute shit out of Oro. The god is bleeding profusely, evidently having been taking an intense beating from the lemurian. Patoto performs an overhead kick and sends Oro flying down to the ground, where he crashes and slides along the dirt. When he stops, he weakly looks up to see Enlil staring down at him in disappointment. Patoto lands a few feet behind them as Enlil nods to him. “I’ll take him from here Patoto. Thank you.”

Patoto doesn’t seem to be quite finished with him yet, still clearly angry, but the voice of his mother stops him from stepping forward.

“Patoto!”

He turns to see Zumeg running towards him, and the anger in his expression completely disappears into relief. “Mom?”

The two hug tightly as Patoto powers down to his base form once again. As this happens, Enlil lifts Oro up over her shoulder and turns to everyone, who is gathering around Zumeg and Patoto.

“I’m sorry to have brought you all so much trouble,” she assures solemnly. “He won’t be back to do it again after this; I promise.”

The two gods disappear, leaving the group to stand there. Patoto nuzzles his mother lovingly, clearly happy to have her back and safe. Evelyn also seems pleased with the outcome of all this. Kinpa is the only one whose mind seems to be elsewhere.

#mirrors #chapter 7

48 notes · View notes

jaeminzie · 3 years

Text

each time you fall in love | h.rj - teaser

↳ huang renjun x fem!reader

synopsis: the moments of what it seemed like the love you gave him is something renjun would never deem to forget. without it, he’s become the type of person he’s ridiculed in the past. though thanks to you, he’s learned that the past is the past and shit happens.

genre: angst, fluff, college au

teaser word count: 1,375 expected word count: 10-15k

warnings: cursing, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, one sex scene but no explicit smut (more to add later on)

playlist: ‘real games’ by lucky daye ☆ ‘each time you fall in love’ by cigarettes after sex ☆ (more to add later on)

a/n: a belated birthday fic for renjun :,] i’ve been waiting for the right time to write a long and angsty fic and i think now is the perfect time aaaa i’m so excited to write again ! for now, enjoy a little snippet ♡

i. each time you fall in love

renjun was confused as to why he was standing between sweaty bodies of frat boys when he could be laying down in his own clean sheets while binge watching a new show. but no, his best friend just had to quite literally physically drag him to this party. jaemin has been pestering renjun into accompanying him to a frat party so renjun can finally “get some.” while in reality, the only “some” renjun is in need of is a break, and attending a boring college party only to be pushed around by intoxicated, tall, and freakishly meaty boys isn't the break he was quite fond of.

the short boy has been on his tippy toes in an attempt to look for his friend who forced him here (apparently only to ditch him) in the sea of people. as his toes begin to cramp, renjun gives up and marches his way to the backyard. the wrinkles on his forehead begin to soothe as he feels the cold air relief his slightly sweaty forehead.

he observes the area around him — people out here were dancing more appropriately than those inside, the music was calmer too. he thinks the dimly lit backyard sets the mood well, complimenting the chill rnb music playing in the back. though, the calmness came to a halt when he heard the infamous loud voice of donghyuck calling his name from the side of the area.

renjun smiles at the him and jeno who was standing right beside donghyuck, feeling relieved that he will no longer look like a stupid loner since he’s found a few friends. as he came closer to them, the acrid smell of their cigarettes became more prevalent.

“didn’t take you as a party guy, injunie.” donghyuck nudges him with his shoulder as renjun finds place in between the two, resting his back against the fence.

“that’s because i’m not.”

jeno chuckles at his response, “so jaemin finally succeeded.” renjun huffs. “well, at least enjoy it now that you’re here.”

donghyuck made a noise of agreement. “and you guys consider smoking in the corner fun?” renjun eyes the boys, obviously joking with them but was also curious if they genuinely find pleasure in welcoming those toxins into their system.

“apparently you, a prude, think being a virgin is fun. but i guess we all have different definitions of fun, huh?” donghyuck teases before taking another hit, releasing the smoke and polluting the air.

renjun blinks repeatedly to moisten his burning eyes, “yeah, i expect that same attitude from you when you need an inhaler every five seconds. that’s the only thing you’ll ever hit then.”

jeno coughs out smoke as he laughs at the remark, “you’ve done pissed him off, hyuck. here — take a hit, it’ll feel better.” jeno places the cigarette in front of renjun’s face and winks at him.

renjun mockingly smiles at the taller boy before rolling his eyes and heartily laughing at the banter between him and his good friends.

the boy observes how the smoke leaves the tip of the cigarette to form patterns in the air, creating an infinite amount of stems and designs. like a camera lens, his focus on the killing object in front of him blurs and readjusts on a dancing figure directly behind the cigarette from afar.

jeno slowly drops his hand down as he sees his friend’s gaze shift to another hazardous object — a girl. specifically, you. “you know her?”

renjun thinks about his answer, because you guys don’t know each other personally nor have even talked to one another but he does know of you but he doesn’t want to sound like a creep. saving himself from more insults, he shakes his head. “maybe i should, though.”

not that he pays attention but he’s seen you at a couple of his classes last semester, but sadly none this semester. he remembers how you’d always come in late, but not too late. just late enough for everyone to stop what they’re doing and watch you walk down to your seat. or maybe that was just a natural effect of yours that you hold on people. i mean, renjun didn’t miss the way you put thought into your outfit for every class even if it was a boring lecture. hell, you could show up to class hungover and in pajamas (which you’ve done before a shameful amount of times) and still catch everyone’s attention.

renjun has a pair of functioning eyes so he is very aware of your charming looks. tonight was different, though. you danced confidently right in the center of the grass, with a drink in your hands that hasn’t spilled once thanks to your graceful mannerisms. with the fairy lights hitting your skin, making you glow underneath the dark sky, renjun thought you couldn’t get any prettier.

he was about to inform his friends that he’ll be getting a drink, but noticed that the two boys had already left his side. he cowered at the thought of him just standing there alone with nothing and no one to accompany him while he shamelessly stared at you. making the churning feeling in stomach worsen, your gaze meets his while you continue to dance to the sensual music.

you shot a smile first, renjun immediately gives you one back as he straightens his posture. renjun sees you giggle at his actions then whisper something in your friend’s ear, simultaneously handing your drink to her, to which she pushed you toward his direction and gently patted your bottom.

renjun wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol taking control or you were just this bold, strutting your way toward him — a boy who you don’t even know.

you halt your steps when you stand in front of him, getting a clear view of his pretty face. “you seem a bit lonely.”

renjun gulps, collecting his confidence. “just a bit.”

“want some company then?”

renjun smiles genuinely at your offer. “i would love that actually.” he stares at your features, admiring the dots on your face that would resemble star constellations if someone were to draw lines to connect them. “i’m renjun.” he was smart enough to wipe his hands discreetly behind him before putting them out.

“nice to meet you, renjun. i’m y/n.” you took his hand and shook it lightly. “i think i’ve seen you in one of my classes before? i might be wrong.” you tilt your head slightly. renjun almost melts at the sight.

he smiles before nodding, eyes shining. “yeah, i’m shocked you remember. i don’t usually talk during class.” he laughs. it seems that every time he smiles, your palms become sweatier and your neck’s temperature increases.

“don’t worry, pretty boys like you don’t need to do much to catch yourself some attention.”

renjun laughs nervously at the compliment, fiddling with the ends of his oversized jacket. “you're the one to talk but thank you.” his eyes twinkled as he spoke, the moonlight hitting the highest points of his face precisely. “you wanna go sit over there?” he points to the chairs near your standing figures. you nodded and began to walk your way toward the spot with renjun following suit.

renjun wasn’t sure how it happened. how the night turned from arguing with jaemin over a pointless party to now — not wanting to leave the damn place. how he was able to maintain a real conversation with you, not some excruciatingly boring small talk that neither party enjoys. he learned much about your character and questioned how much more perfect you can be. on the other hand, you learned that renjun makes pleasant company as he eased through the night talking to you about anything. he made any topic worth listening to if he was the one doing the talking.

as he drove home with a drunk jaemin snoring beside him in the passenger seat, he realized that, for once, renjun was thankful that his best friend is the most stubborn person in the planet and made him go to that stupid frat party.

because now, you’ve got him in your hands and he was completely okay with that.

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

Of Gorgons And Gardens

Fandom(s) : The Mandalorian and Prospect [2018]

Pairing: The Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader/Ezra

Rating: Holy shit uh. Explicit.

AN: That's right. I've done it. It's time for the sex pollen. This is a standalone that's not involved with either of my previous tales related to these fine boys, so we have a Death Watch-raised Mando that takes the Creed incredibly seriously and an Ezra that's well armed. Also I apologize for the constant viewpoint switches. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @hardcorewwetrash @helplessly-nonstop @lackofhonor @oloreaa @theocatkov @jackierey09 @zombiexbody @crookedmoonsaultpunk @pedrosbigdorkenergy @absurdthirst @culturalrebel

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For obligatory dubious consent due to sex pollen, as well as threesome activities, breeding kink and gratuitous bodily fluids. Stay safe!]

The quarry was named Ezra. Not that their name mattered, the chain code was freshly generated. The strangest part was that there had been no image attached to the puck.

Din had tipped his helmet to the side, narrowing his eyes and tapping the bounty puck curiously. "Somethin' wrong with this?"

Karga shook his head. "No, he's just too slick for us to have any holorecords on him. Somebody from Bakhroma wants him alive."

Undocumented quarry was exceptionally rare, and not usually something that one requested a Mandalorian for. It indicated green prey, a first-time offender. "Bakhroma, huh? Pretty far out." He wasn't an idiot. There had to be a reason why Karga had offered him this one specifically.

"Guy apparently walked off with a majority of someone's aurelac pull. Typical floater squabble, but one of them ponied up the mining points for credits and asked for a certified, card-carryin' Mando." Karga had leaned back in the booth. "How's the kid?"

Din had just grunted noncommittally in reply, gloved fingers scooping the puck off the table. "I have to get back to the Crest."

…

"The target has been on Bakhroma relatively recently. Not sure if he was in the Green or not, but either way he'll probably be a walking biohazard." Mando muttered, turning his head towards you. "So you're staying put."

"Until something happens to you and I have to pull you out of the fire again." You retorted with a smirk.

"Hey, that was one time." You knew he was narrowing his eyes, though you weren't quite sure how you knew. Something about the way he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right clued you in.

"You were full of nexu quills."

"One. Time." The Mandalorian growled. "I even said thank you."

"You sure did," You replied, laughing. "Right before you passed out!"

He palmed over the side of your head roughly. "Brat." His grumble was fond, softening the edge of the insult. "Promise me you'll stay on the Crest, Senaar, otherwise I'll ask Omera to take you and the kid for an extended sleepover."

"Fine, I promise." You relented, huffing in annoyance.

He tinkered with his charts for a moment, then tilted his head again. "Where did you go earlier? I got done with Karga hours ago. Couldn't find you."

You stiffened, abruptly absorbed in checking the fuel levels. "Oh you know. Around." You said breezily.

"Well in the future, when you feel like going around, at least let me know so I don't think you've been abducted." Mando grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Aw, you're cute when you care!" You cooed, making him scoff and return to his control panel.

…

In hindsight, he wasn't sure what he was more pissed off about. The fact that this Ezra character had led him on a wild fucking chase over half of a suspiciously verdant moon, or the fact that his brain had apparently decided to shift into overdrive regarding you. He couldn't get you off…

Get you off his mind, that is. Stars, he was so confused.

He felt like he had been walking in circles for hours, the only noise the steady beep of the tracker. He was too hot. Thirsty. His armor was chafing like it never had before; it was less like an extension of his body and more like a too-tight skin he needed to shed. Din finally bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"You look like shit," drawled an unfamiliar voice while a set of knuckles rapped on the back of his helmet. Djarin jerked upright and immediately staggered, fumbling to grip a tree trunk for support. His vision swam uncertainly, and he blinked several times in an effort to clear it.

The man in front of him was clad in a utilitarian suit that bore an unfamiliar logo, maybe a mining corporation. No duraplast or durasteel visible, no unnecessary frills, old-fashioned rubber gaskets to seal where glove met sleeve. Din's gaze traveled upwards, past the man's chest to his large domed helmet. He kept his motions deliberate. He had been caught off-guard by this man, but he wouldn't--

What?!

"I'll assume you're encroaching upon my solitude to haul my undesirable personage back into civilized spaces?" The man inquired after Din had taken several long seconds to try and understand what he was seeing. "For monetary compensation, if I had to hazard a guess. There are few lures that tempt a man so far out into the uncharted."

Why does he have my face? Sure, the scars were different. Different facial hair, different hairstyle, and a wild little tuft of blond sprang from amidst the dark locks at his hairline. But it was him. Same brown eyes, same nose, same mouth curving into an infuriatingly benign smirk. Djarin was struck with the sudden urge to punch him, his belly writhing.

"I take it the dust has you firm in its grip. A real pity, that. I'd love to sympathize, but regrettably I am at an advanced state of the same condition." The quarry gestured at his right arm, where a bloodstain blooming on the fabric of his suit indicated a loss of the integrity of said suit. "I'm Ezra, though I'm certain you're already well aware. And you?"

"Irrelevant." Din grated out, clumsy fingers fumbling to get his binders off his belt.

"A man of action, excellent! I shall acquiesce, but only because being removed from this Centaurian mass is infinitely better than being confined to it." Ezra replied with a sage nod, extending his wrists. "Whither to, my recalcitrant steerforth?"

"Be quiet." The Mandalorian grunted, his mind still reeling. How does he have my face? Then, a new, far more troubling thought occurred to him.

If he turned Ezra in, people would inadvertently know what he looked like. They wouldn't know, but they would know. What would that mean for him? For his dedication to the Creed? Did things like that count against him? Had something like this ever happened before?

"Tell me you, at the bare minimum, have functional transport?" Ezra asked after Din had relieved him of his blaster, sounding hopeful. It was so strange hearing his own voice with such an odd, imprecise cadence to it. The Mandalorian had worked for years to improve his Basic so that anyone and everyone would be able to understand him through the coarse modulator, though he still ended up sounding hitchy or curt most of the time.

"How else would I have gotten here?" Din snapped, gesturing the other man forward with the encouragement of his own weapon.

At least now he knew how to get back to the Crest, thank the Maker for his helmet and the tracking protocols he had. Now, observing his previous path of forward motion, he realized with a jolt how much it wound back and forth. He had been walking in circles.

Since when did he lose his sense of direction? Even in unknown territory, he usually had a damn good idea of which end was up. That concerned him.

And on top of everything else, Ezra wouldn't shut the hell up.

"Be quiet." Din muttered for what seemed like the thousandth time. How long had they been walking? Probably his own fault. With how much his head was spinning, he didn't dare deviate from the winding trail he had left. Even if a straight path would have been miles quicker.

Ezra continued to drone, "a toilsome marathon of carnage, I assure-"

"I said, be fucking quiet."

The target huffed out a breath, but obliged Djarin's terse demand for the moment. Din's head was pounding, his already short fuse shrinking with every word out of the talkative man's mouth. Was this the Maker's hysterically ironic way of compensating for how little a solitary Mandalorian would speak? Making a doppelganger that was ceaselessly chatty?

Din talked a lot more these days, between you and the kid. Maker, you. His head swam again and a low, guilty heat throbbed in his belly. You talking to him, the way your mouth moved around your words-

No. No, stop, he told himself sternly, two fingers sliding idly between the gasket and gorget at his throat just so he could breathe a little easier. This planet's air felt thick, like breathing through tar.

"I would not indulge that craving, were I you." Ezra spoke up, the man obviously watching him claw at his neck. "The less exposure you have, the better."

Din wanted to snap at him because honestly how many times do I have to say shut the fuck up-

But then he stopped. Since when did he even do things like breach the seal of his own fucking helmet on an unfamiliar planet?! He flinched, tearing his hand away and hating the low, wry chuckle that issued from the quarry. The other man mused, "It's already too late for me, you know. I imagine I'll have an hour, perhaps two."

"What the hell are you talking about now."

"The dust, my armored associate. It permeates. Sludges the mental processes." Ezra shrugged with only one shoulder. "Among other things."

"How do you know so much about it?" Din gritted his teeth against the buzzing pain in his stomach. "Seems pretty stupid of you to hide out here." Especially if you know the flora is deadly.

"There is naught to do on a freighter slingback aside from read." Ezra's eyes narrowed. "And I could hardly pick and choose which moon my pod decided to give out on, you monosyllabic knuckle-dragger."

"Watch your mouth before I break it." Din snarled.

"Lo and behold, he comprehends! I assumed all you knew how to say was a stagnant variation on the theme of be fucking quiet." Ezra retorted with enraging cheer.

Din's gloves creaked with the tension of his fists and he barely kept from slamming them into his temples. They were almost to the Crest. Almost. Once they got there, he would throw this mouthy nerf herder into the carbonite and…

And what? And turn him over? And inadvertently compromise his whole identity, possibly destroy decades of loyally obeying the Creed?

All the deprivation, the loneliness, the weakness of his own heart...

"Be fucking quiet." The Mandalorian muttered, knowing full well that the other man hadn't said anything. Be fucking quiet. Be fucking quiet quiet quiet just fucking be quiet--

Din ground the heels of his palms against the curve of his helmet at his forehead, praying for some kind of relief.

Carbonite, he reminded himself.

…

Ezra grudgingly held his tongue, which even he had to admit was a rarity. Unlike the other floaters that had approached him before and met their swift demise, this particular bounty hunter was heavily kitted. The gleaming plate he sported didn't seem to hinder his motion in the slightest.

Interesting.

Ezra knew when he had been outplayed, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't banking on the other man having a functional ship even before he decided to go peacefully.

The hunter (mentally dubbed Steerforth, he rudely had not introduced himself) obviously had no idea about the pollen, for all his outward preparedness. Clearly Serpentia was not as well known as Ezra had wished.

Regrettable.

He could hope that the bounty hunter hadn't been exposed, he mused. After all, the man was wearing that positively arresting helmet, and his suit seemed of a sturdy (if unfamiliar) weave. Here was an individual that Ezra would have to tread carefully around, if he wished to escape with his life.

His faith waned a bit as he recalled watching the man 'track' him, winding back and forth through the trees like a drunken mule until Ezra had taken pity on him and turned himself in.

The hunter was terse in his speech, likely weary from the chase. Ezra could sympathize, he was weary from running. It had almost been a relief when that last hunter had attacked him and forced him to crash the pod on this moon. Though his relief had quickly turned to dismay when Ezra had done a full turn outside his pod and realized just what was making all the pollen in the air.

Serpentia, Serpent's Tongue. He had never encountered the plant in the proverbial flesh, but once upon a time he had been accidentally doused with the extract when a holding tank had burst while he was on a job site.

His skin crawled as he remembered the torment that followed during his solitary confinement. He had been nigh-certain he would not recover, clawing free of the haze that had gripped him with the barest vestiges of his mental faculties.

This moon's Serpentia population seemed infinitely kinder than the concentrate he had encountered, if only for its soft, creeping approach. It lapped at the base of his brain, dulled the edge of his panic until he was nearly comfortable with the ache that licked hot in his groin.

But thank Kevva for this bounty hunter lumbering through the brush! With a little luck, Ezra would be able to persuade him to accept a few pearls of aurelac in lieu of dragging him back to face that greatly-exaggerated justice.

...

According to the limited information from the Crest's scans, the air on this moon was perfectly safe to breathe.

And if what Mando had said was right, he probably would need the ship to himself for a little while to decontaminate. So you had posted up beside the ramp once he had departed, occasionally wiping the sweat off your brow. The atmosphere was humid and you watched as breezes too delicate for you to even feel nudged the thick pollen in the air this way and that.

The moon was liberally coated with lush vegetation; just finding a place to safely land the Razor Crest had been a Herculean effort. You wondered vaguely if there was a lake or spring nearby that you would be able to cool off in. The ship's fresher was functional, of course, but its water had been sitting in the holding tank for a few cycles now and it smelled rusty.

The pollen covered everything, orange-red substance sticking to your already-damp skin. You grimaced, wondering if maybe you should have put on your suit. But no, the atmosphere was safe. The scans had said so, and you already spent so much of your time in your thick suit…

The sunshine felt wonderful after all the hyperspace travel, like a warm embrace from a friend. You caught yourself wondering what Mando's hug might feel like. Probably uncomfortable, what with all the beskar. You scoffed at your thoughts. You really needed to stop thinking about him like that, he was technically your boss even if he called you his partner. So what if he had passed out on top of you? That had been an infection thing.

It wasn't as if he had stroked your cheek before he dropped, his voice breaking when he called you Senaar...

So what if you had solicited not one, but two Mandalorians during your last stop on Nevarro?

It wasn't as if he noticed anything that you did, aside from when it had inconvenienced him. It wasn't as if you couldn't handle your little infatuation with him, even if it did result in you seeking out Mandos that would give you attention.

You propped your chin up on your hand, your eyes half-focusing on the dust floating in the air. It was nice to just relax for once, though there was a little guilty sensation in your stomach. Because Mando was out there working, while you...were lounging around, soaking up the sunlight.

You weren't sure how long you sat there, but you finally got up with a groan and a stretch that felt heavenly. You would investigate the surrounding area, you decided, maybe you could rustle up something fresh. If you couldn't be active on the hunt for the quarry, you could at least restock the larders.

After what only felt like a few steps, you quickly stumbled across thick vines that bore an unfamiliar, violet-hued fruit. The fruit was the size of your fist, and the skin had slight give to it. Light-colored flowers dotted the vine here and there, their tiny stamens crested with heavy crowns of thick pollen. Clearly you had located one of the many sources of the dust that choked the air.

You picked one of the fruits and propped it up on a flat rock, using your trusty field knife to slice it open. It had orange pulp inside it, and a small hollow in the middle filled with pinkish fluid. The whole fruit reminded you of a sunset. Dimly, you thought that you probably shouldn't be touching this fruit with your bare skin, on the off chance that it might be caustic or toxic. But it looked delicious.

Surely just a little taste wouldn't hurt?

The pinkish fluid was almost overwhelmingly sweet, and sticky. It dribbled down your chin when you tipped the fruit to slurp it up. You laughed at yourself, tugging your tunic to scrub at your face.

Mando will love these.

You weren't sure where the thought came from, but obviously it was true. The idea of Mando being alone, slipping off his helmet to eat...the juice from the fruit glistening on his mouth…

Your breathing had quickened. You carefully harvested more of the round fruit, tucking the ripe produce into the makeshift cradle of your tunic. Once you decided you had enough, you turned on your heel and went to make your way back to the Crest.

...

No.

No no no no no-

Din stared at the partially-ajar ramp on the Crest and he wanted to yell.

"Oh dear." Ezra murmured faintly. "What a predicament." He had been getting quieter and quieter the closer they drew to the ship, so hearing him talk again sent a jolt down Din's spine. "You left your egress open? How careless of you."

"I didn't." Din snarled, wrapping his fingers around the binders on Ezra's wrists. You. The throbbing in his stomach lurched.

Ezra's eyes widened and he abruptly planted his feet. Din hadn't realized just how off-kilter he was, normally something like a shift in weight wouldn't be enough to make him stagger. But he almost toppled, barely getting his balance back in time. "Is there someone else on that ship?" Ezra asked sharply.

"Of course." Din didn't even think to lie. "Partner."

"Would they have wandered? Exposed themselves?" The prospector-thief-quarry continued to quiz him and Din resented it just a little.

"Be quiet," He grunted, tapping at his gauntlet to open the ramp, "and get in the fucking hold."

Ezra abruptly drew himself up to his full height. "I do not believe you actually want me to do that." He intoned with difficulty, his teeth gritted. "Putting myself, yourself and the potential of one more infected person into an enclosed space is a very…" His words faltered. "Oh."

Din whirled, visor traveling up the ramp into the dim hold. And just barely visible at the edge of the ramp, a small pile of what looked like fruit--was that your leg?! He lunged forward, his blaster ready.

"I would not advise you to approach them!" Ezra barked.

"Fuck you!" Din snapped, striding up the ramp to kneel alongside your body. He crushed one of the fruits beneath his knee, lurid pink juice erupting to soak into his suit. The color was high in your cheeks, your body blotchy with flush. Pollen encrusted your neck and shoulders, drifted through your hair; something pink and shiny coated your lips like a strange gloss.

Din caught himself leaning in and jerked back at the urgency in Ezra's voice when the prospector called, "Do they breathe, man?"

"Be quiet!" Djarin roared. Why hadn't he checked that first? What was wrong with him? He shoved his vambrace against your mouth, his chest clenching in relief when your breath fogged the metal. Stars.

"I'm afraid this complicates things quite significantly." Ezra said loudly, fidgeting at the base of the ramp. "I was unaware you had a partner of the...other biological persuasion. Had it just been you and I, two masculine-presenting bipeds, things would have been miles simpler."

"What the hell are you saying now?" Din was getting tired of this shit, tired of listening to the other man talk.

"This plant is...shall we say, heteronormative." Ezra drawled, waving his bound hands in the air to illustrate the cloying pollen. Din cocked his head in confusion. "You know, masculine and feminine? Male and female? Different. Hetero."

Djarin scoffed derisively. "My people don't care about that shit."

"A noble practice to be certain, very forward-thinking."

"This is the Way." The Mandalorian replied.

Ezra soldiered on, "Unfortunately, the plant that infests this planet does indeed differentiate. Fruit for the female, pollen for the male." He added hurriedly, "in the biological sense, of course! I will not make any assumptions about your partner. The fruit is a...a catalyst. Are you familiar with the old-Earth religious writings, the ones that mention the Garden? Or perhaps the Greek pantheon may have been more your style?" When Djarin shook his head, Ezra sighed. "The genus name in Basic is slippin' my mind. But this particular iteration is known as Serpent's Tongue, Serpentia. It is Medusine in nature and it inspires feelings of…" Ezra paused, licking his lips nervously. "Heat."

"Heat." Din repeated blankly, knowing that he must be missing something.

Ezra ducked his head, breaking eye contact. "As in, being in heat." The man clarified after a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm-"

"Excuse me?" Din snarled, running his fingers through the juices that coated his knee. It was thick, sticky like syrup, why was it warm--He bolted to his feet and stalked back down the ramp. Ezra took a step back, and then another, the quarry obviously wary of him. Good. The satisfied feeling took some of the edge off his frustrated panic. "So what the hell is wrong with my partner?" Din grated out.

"Er, to couch it in layman's terms…" Ezra hesitated, clearing his throat. "They are aroused."

Aroused. Aroused. Aroused. "Sexually?" Din hated the way the word came out, all breathy like he was a youngling that had just learned about the wonders of copulation.

Ezra nodded, grimacing. "From the sound of your tone, I would hazard a guess that the two of you have not been intimate."

"Why would we have been?" Din retorted bluntly.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, seeming as if he was avoiding looking at you. Good. Mine. Din had no idea where the hell that thought came from. "Oh of course, I was foolish to assume so blatantly." The prospector muttered. "That does complicate your own matters further, however. Were you previously sexually intertwined, this would have been much more simple." He suddenly doubled over at the waist, a loud grunt forced from his mouth and a low exclamation of, "fuck, fuck-"

The curse sent a hot flicker down Din's spine and it took him a second to realize that you had made a noise in reply. You sounded dazed, scared. He whirled on the ramp and knelt again, taking your hand. "Senaar, you coming around?" Your eyes looked...wrong, blinking open slowly; your pupils were blown like you'd been spiced.

You stared up at him for several long seconds before your mouth opened. "Wanted to make lunch." You managed to say. "I don't feel good."

"Well, you don't look so great either." Din said gruffly.

"Bastard." You groaned at him, trying to sit up. "Maker, I feel so hot, I...oh! Oh no, you smushed one." You appeared to have noticed the remains of the sticky fruit currently seeping into his knee. "I wanted you to try it. Tastes...tastes...it's so sweet Mando, s'like candy." You saying his name (even if it wasn't his actual name, shit) was like a lightning bolt to his groin. You dragged your hand over his knee, gathering up the remnants of the fruit and then sliding your fingers into your mouth.

You brought him food. His lungs felt too full and not full enough. Stars, the idea of you feeding him that, smearing it all over his mouth with those pretty little fingers-

No, the helmet. The helmet. He couldn't take off the helmet. The Creed.

He jerked his head up, looking to Ezra. The other man was still doubled over, holding his midsection as best as he could with his hands bound.

A dark, uncharacteristically evil thought wound its way into Din's mind, sweet and smokey like a good ne'tra gal. "Get in the ship." He grunted. Ezra glanced up and Din was a little startled by the level of emotion he displayed. He wasn't used to seeing expressions play out on his own face. The other man seemed wildly uncomfortable and Din found that grounding, for whatever reason.

"I do not dare to." Ezra panted finally. "Just being this close is...immensely troubling. I am not the master of my own body at this moment, Steerforth."

"Is this the target?" You asked softly. Din nodded and he could almost feel your eyes raking over the other man. "What happened? He's hurt."

Shit, he had nearly forgotten. Ezra was still bleeding from his arm. The quarry had obviously forgotten as well, clearly dealing with a much more pressing matter.

You beckoned to the other man and Din had to rein in the knee-jerk reaction to grab his blaster as Ezra reluctantly approached. He had never been territorial about you before, what the hell was the matter with him?

Ezra halted a good five feet away from you, keeping his head down. "I am Ezra. I apologize in advance for my untoward behavior." He muttered, his voice gone so low and gravelly he actually did sound like Din. The Mandalorian's stomach pitched uncertainly. "I am not myself at this point in time."

"What happened to your arm?" Your tone was warm, concerned. Din's fists clenched. "Did Mando do that?"

"Oh, no! Of course not. Your compatriot has been nothing if not a complete gentleman." Ezra replied wryly. "I sustained this injury during a previous floater's quarrel."

…

You hummed and you saw Mando stiffen up out of the corner of your eye. What was wrong with him? One second he had been leaning over you, all worry and hand holding. The next, he was barking at the quarry.

And the quarry was hurt. Ezra, Ezra, his slow drawl making your head swim and your chest tingle. Never mind Mando, what was wrong with you? You felt so strange, like you were hyper-fixated.

Maker, maybe you shouldn't have eaten that fruit. "I'm sorry." You apologized to Mando, your lower lip beginning to quiver. "I just wanted to give-"

"Be quiet." He ordered, his voice startlingly gentle. A gloved thumb pressed to your lower lip and you stared up at him, opening your mouth automatically even though you knew he was just wiping the juice away. You were startled when he slid his thumb into your mouth, but you obligingly cleaned the juice from the leather with your tongue. Shouldn't this be strange? But Mando just did it, like it was normal. Maybe it was normal.

Your mind flew back to your sultry encounter on Nevarro, how you had occupied yourself while Mando wrapped up his business with the Guild, and warmth lanced through your stomach as you recalled greedy gloved hands grasping and caressing your bare skin-

"Steerforth, if you are to carry on in that heated demonstration I must plead for the carbonite treatment that you were so hellbent on throwing myself into earlier." Ezra sounded like he was in pain. "I have only endured this once before and it was a torment that threatened my already-tenuous sanity. Have fucking mercy man, I implore-"

"Be quiet." Mando snapped, "we have to treat your arm, right?"

"Fuck." Ezra swore again, the sound writhing through your belly. "Hurry then."

"Get in the ship. I'll turn on the filters."

"Do not leave me alone with them, I implore you!" Ezra cried, that domed helmet finally tilting enough for you to catch a glimpse of his face. "I am not the master of my own body, Steerforth."

His eyes were dark, impossibly dark, and frantic as he argued with Mando. His skin seemed tanned or olive through the sun-struck dome of his suit's helmet. Short brown hair was plastered flat to his forehead with sweat, and the lower half of his face was coated in a somewhat unkempt mess of facial scruff. Too long to be five o'clock shadow, but too bedraggled to be dubbed anything else.

Roguish, you decided, wanting to laugh at yourself. He looks roguish. What a ridiculous thought to have! Not obviously dangerous like Mando, but still dangerous. Was that your heartbeat throbbing in your ears? You sighed softly, taking a step towards the other man without meaning to.

Mando's hand was suddenly on your arm. "Hold it. Treatment. We have to treat his wound." He said gruffly.

You nodded. Of course. Who knew what he had been exposed to through the breach in his suit? "I was going to help him walk?"

Mando shook his head. "You get the kit. You've got no gear on. He's contaminated." He reasoned. "Get me the kit and then seal yourself into the cockpit so we can filter the hold." You nodded again and his hand found your cheek, gloved fingers grazing your neck before he jerked back. "S...Sorry." he apologized.

"It's okay." You whispered.

…

Ezra, helmet discarded and suit stripped to the waist, flinched away from Din's touch yet again. "Stop. This is a bad wound. It'll get infected if I do this wrong." Din snapped. He rarely encountered blaster wounds that didn't self-cauterize, even though that tended to come with its own set of problems.

"I do not mean to tear free." Ezra protested. "Blood flow has increased. I am…" He paused, biting his lower lip. "Sensitive. Surely you have a handheld? One of the burners? Just burn it shut man, Kevva, I cannot even endure the graze of your fingers."

"If I give you a burner patch, it'll seal in the infection." Din reasoned, flushing the wound again. "Focus on something else."

"I cannot." Ezra said sharply. "There is only one matter my brain currently wishes to focus on, and it is not the dire straits of my wounded arm."

"Them?" Din asked, keeping his voice low.

Ezra shot him a guilty look from beneath his sweat-matted fringe of brown hair, finally nodding. "It is ludicrous, but I feel as though I can taste them." He confessed. "Gods, I wish I had never landed on this accursed moon. I wish I had never encountered the Serpentia."

"What will happen?" Din did his best to maintain his vocal level as he bandaged the other man's wound.

"Arousal. Sheer, unadulterated arousal. You ache, like the worst fever you've ever had. I've heard it is even more excruciatin' for those of the other human biological persuasion, due to their genitals being internal. Though it is Medusine in nature, so it has a...failsafe, of sorts. You are seized with the primal instinct to mate, conquer, claim. It does not stop until you have buried your...until you have sheathed yourself in an orifice." Ezra was gasping for air. Obviously just talking about it was enough to cause him distress, either that or Djarin was being rougher than he thought. "Steerforth please, I-"

"This will cause them pain?" Din asked slowly.

Ezra nodded jerkily. "I have been told it's like a sickly, stabbing heat. Fingers are not enough to…er, extinguish the flames." His cheeks flushed. "The tongue soothes, but not overlong. Internals require certain length, and...rigidity." Din didn't miss the way his eyes flickered down to the beskar that covered his upper thighs. "When last I encountered this damned flora, I suffered the effects alone and I felt as if I would go mad."

Tongue. Fingers. Rigidity. Din's mind reeled. "Specifics." He gritted out, his body awash with heat in his armor when Ezra made a pitiful noise.

"Kevva, have mercy on me Steerforth."

"I said. Specifics." Din fisted a glove in the other man's hair, tilting his head back and forcing him to look up. Ezra moved, albeit reluctantly, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing when he swallowed. "Specifics." Din repeated himself, a little softer this time.

Ezra shuddered all over. "They will seek you out. To be fucked." He said, cringing a bit as if he disliked using the word. "You must open them up with your tongue first, dissolve the Medusine barrier with saliva. That's the failsafe, you see, an individual of that biological persuasion who is suffering cannot be penetrated without tender effort. Ease into it and perhaps they will not loathe you when this madness has run its course-"

"I can't." Din interrupted.

"What?" Ezra gawked at him.

"I can't. T-Tongue. Not allowed. Forbidden." Din felt like he was drunk. "Helmet."

The other man's brow furrowed. "You can, I presume, take off other portions of your plate?"

Din shook his head, wishing that he could explain it better. "Technically yes, but it's frowned upon. Exceptions happen. And under no circumstances can I take the helmet off."

"How in the Fringe have you ever-"

"I...inspire feelings in people." That was probably the most delicate way he could have said I cater exclusively to bipeds with a predator/prey fetish. Din grimaced. "I'm large and imposing. Usually that's...enough. No need for warm up." He said awkwardly. "Armor stays on."

"What a bewildering existence!" Ezra tilted his head in disbelief. "So you have never removed…?"

Din shook his head. "Not in the presence of others. The Creed forbids it."

"Your dedication is admirable, but unfortunately it leaves your partner twisting in the wind." The quarry pointed out. "I would offer my services, but I am an unknown and-"

"Yes." Din gritted out, that dark thought slithering back through his mind.

"Yes?"

"Your services." Din took a deep breath. He didn't bargain with quarry, but this man had his face. He couldn't turn him in without jeopardizing everything he had sworn his life to. "In exchange, when this is...when they no longer require your services, I'll let you go."

Ezra's eyebrows bunched together. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Steerforth."

"I don't want them to be in pain." Din's voice grated in his throat and he watched Ezra's eyes widen in comprehension. "I don't want them to hurt."

"You...this is not just the Serpentia. You have a prior attachment to them."

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't have." Djarin muttered dismissively. "Because of the Creed, I...I can't. But you can."

"You can't give them your mouth, certainly, but there are-"

"If it's what makes it possible, you have to do it!" Din interjected sharply. "I don't want them to hurt."

"I need you to comprehend what you're askin' of me!" Ezra shot back, his bound fists clenched tight enough to whiten his knuckles. "They don't know me from Job, and you're all but demanding I violate their trust-"

"I don't want them to hurt!" Din roared, startling himself with his own furious reaction. Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by your staggering descent on the ladder. You looked unwell. Ezra skittered back a few steps, falling on his ass with a muffled swear.

"Mando?" Your voice wavered and you swayed at the ladder. Din lurched forward, tucking you into his arms as you sniffled, "I don't feel so good. I think I'm sick." You were radiating heat that he could feel even through his suit. Your tunic was soaked with sweat.

"Osi'kyr." Din cursed under his breath after he swapped to his infrared and saw just how brilliant your signature was. "Listen to me, alright Senaar?" He murmured, simultaneously loving and hating the way you nodded in a docile manner. "We know what can fix this. But it's not…" he paused, searching for the right term.

"Appropriate." Ezra supplied loudly.

"I feel awful." Your whimper made Din's stomach ache. His cock rubbed against the confines of his compression leggings.

Ignore it.

"I know you do." Din pressed his palm to your forehead. "Listen to me. We can fix this. You trust me, right?" Your nod was immediate and Din barely stifled his groan. "Ezra knows what's wrong. Ezra can help."

"He can help?" You echoed blearily, looking past Din. "Okay. He said something about the fruit before, right? I shouldn't have eaten it. M'sorry. Was it poison?"

"Poison may have been simpler to endure." Ezra muttered. "It is an aphrodisiac. Do not blame yourself. The fruit is visually appealing for a reason, otherwise the plant would not be able to propagate."

…

Aphrodisiac. Your mouth was flooded with that sweet taste at the sound of Ezra's drawling voice, the groan that followed burrowing into your blood.

You had never felt this way before. Your body ached and twisted, arousal pooling uncomfortably in your pelvis. Everything felt like it was trapped, your tunic sticking to your skin with sweat. Aphrodisiac.

"Please pay attention." Ezra sighed. "I understand this is incredibly distracting, but I have a limited window of coherence." He was trembling slightly, still avoiding your eyes. "Your partner has requested I aid you where he cannot. I will not harm you." He said with gravity. "This is a situation which bodes exceptionally poorly and I am...I am truly sorry for dragging you into this mess."

"Oh, it's okay. Mando gets me into messes all the time." You brushed off his apology and Ezra choked out a bitter laugh.

"I fear you may change your tune once the pain truly starts." He remarked.

"He says it'll hurt." Mando murmured. "Like stabbing."

You knew your eyes widened with fear because Mando was quick to envelope you in his arms again. He had never been this touchy before. It was...strangely nice. The coolness of his armor felt wonderful on your skin and you moaned in relief. Mando went stiff at your noise, his gloved fingers clutching the nape of your neck. Up until this point, you had just felt some minor throbbing. Distracting, but negligible.

This was different.

...

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fists curled into his suit, knees buckling as a low, wavering cry left your lips. Din jerked at the sound. He had never heard you make that kind of noise before, not even when you had been shot--

Oh he was fucked. He was so fucked. Was he excited or terrified? "Easy, you're okay, you're okay," he soothed, clumsily brushing the hair back from your face. Who was he even trying to convince?!

"Make your choice expediently, Steerforth. Am I to be thrown in carbonite or put to work?" Ezra queried through gritted teeth.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you." Din said to you, ignoring the other man for the moment. "I won't let anything happen to you. I need you to trust me for right now, alright? We can fix this."

Your grip on him tightened even further. "I don't like how this feels." You whispered.

Din closed his eyes in a futile attempt to ward off his own self-loathing, pressing your cheek against his breastplate. "I know, Senaar. I'll be right here with you. I just...can't give you what you'll need." He stuttered, offering on a desperate whim, "I-I can hold you, if you want." You nodded frantically into his armor.

"If you have a...a blanket. A sheet. Something for the floor, we are going to make a mess and I am uncertain if we will be able to protect your partner's modesty." Ezra muttered, his bound hands resting surreptitiously over his groin. "They may be more enthusiastic than one would anticipate."

Din patted your elbow, trying to gentle his voice. "Go get your pillow."

"O-Okay." You gulped.

Din tore into one of his many lockers once you released him, the armored man frantically digging around for his extra bedding. Ezra staggered to his feet, moving in close to Din. So that you wouldn't hear him speak, no doubt.

"There is still time for you to freeze me, Steerforth. I am not a man without morality, tattered though it may be." He murmured, and Din noticed that his weary brown eyes were surrounded by the same deep lines and cracks that Djarin's own face sported. The Mandalorian hadn't ever paid much mind to just how many expressions he still made beneath the helmet, probably because he knew no one would see them.

Din grabbed the other man's shoulder, searching those eyes. Ezra stared at his impenetrable visor, probably confused by his silence. "I need your help." Din rasped seriously. He didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him, but he could live with the uneasy truce if it would…if it meant that he could…

Stars, this was all so damn wrong.

Ezra finally nodded. "I will do my best to assist with the...emotional aftermath. This is not your fault, or theirs. This is merely an unfortunate side effect of a hazardous occupation."

"Thank you."

Ezra's eyebrows shot up, but other than that he gave no indication of his surprise. Din elbowed him to the side, unfolding the thick blanket and spreading it out carefully on the floor of the hold.

…

This was certainly an odd predicament.

Ezra could not say he had ever been in such a charged scenario, despite his checkered history. His jaw worked thoughtfully as he watched the armored man devote an obscene amount of care to smoothing the wrinkles out of his blanket.

Arousal swirled around him like the thick pollen outside, but it was tempered by the terrible memory of that singular past experience where he had rubbed himself bloody on the inside of his suit. He knew he was worse off than Steerforth. No, what had you called him? Mando.

Curious.

A Creed that prevented the devout from showing the world their face.

Curious. And familiar, somehow. Ezra spooled his mind back, trying to recall why it was familiar. He couldn't focus however, his own breathing becoming too distracting.

Mando hadn't gotten nearly as much of the pollen as him. The other man seemed unbearably, impossibly calm in the light of what was about to occur. Maybe it was an illusion afforded by that unreadable helm, or brought about by his lack of prior experience.

Ezra was wildly jealous all the same. "What is their name?" He asked softly.

Mando fixed him with a look and Kevva, that helmet was indeed imposing. "I call them Senaar. It...it means bird." He sounded reluctant, like he didn't even want to give up that much. "Names are sacred in the Creed. I couldn't give them mine so they didn't give me theirs, but I had to call them something."

"No names in the Creed, either?" Ezra asked incredulously.

The armored man shook his head. "To outsiders we are all Mando. To us, we are Mando'ade. This is the Way."

"A veritable legion of nameless, featureless warriors." Ezra muttered, mainly to himself. He rattled his restraints after a moment. "Am I to remain bound during this frotfest, Steerforth?"

"I'm not stupid enough to give you free range. Be grateful I didn't secure them behind your back instead." Mando snarked.

"I will not harm your little bird." Ezra protested.

"I know." Mando leaned in slightly, broad shoulders made even more intimidating by the blue-steel pauldrons that graced them. "I would kill you before you got the chance."

Oh, such confidence! Ezra wished he was in his right mind, he would obliterate this smug cretin--

His breath caught in his throat as you returned from your excursion. Gods, he had nearly forgotten what he was being called to do. He warred with the obscene urge that dragged his gaze to the crux of your thighs. "A divine sight." He murmured, not lying for once. This entire day had been remarkably truthful.

You actually gave him a ribald wink, and that eased his conscience slightly. Perhaps you were not the unsullied, blushing virgin he had feared you might be. Obviously you had used the time you took to grab your pillow wisely, maybe even given yourself a bit of a pep talk.

"Have you done this before?" Ezra asked, half-joking. He heard Mando audibly gulp in that damn bucket when you nodded, a pained smile curving your lips. "Not under the effects of such altering substances, I pray?"

"Nah, nothing like that." You replied, shaking your head. "It was back on Nevarro, I-"

"Nevarro?" Mando hissed. "You disappeared on me for hours. That's what you were up to?!"

You shrugged weakly. "It doesn't really matter but...there were two Mandalorians, and I wanted, um, something that seemed familiar, I guess." You admitted, your tone remarkably cool for the subject matter.

Ezra hid his grin. He was hardly immune to the allure of saucy gossip, and there was nothing quite like gossip that had no particular bearing on him. "Two?!" The armored man's voice squeaked even through the thick modulation and Ezra burst out laughing, the binders knocking his jaw when he tried to stifle his mirth.

"I meant more whether you had engaged in copulation in general, but I suppose that would have been a pertinent question as well." He mused once he got himself under control, the low buzz in his stomach blossoming into an excited thrum. "How fortunate that you would be so generous when it comes to your partners, little bird."

"What do you mean, familiar?" Mando carried on over him, obviously agitated by the fresh knowledge that his partner may or may not have some...tendencies. Ezra almost wanted to laugh again; you were nothing if not painfully transparent. Seeking out others like the armored man to have their way with you? Clearly you harbored some sort of affection, kept secret and safe by the walls that humans build around themselves.

But Serpentia had a funny way of sliding that dastardly pink slick through all defenses, leaving the body raw and exposed.

"I mean familiar." You replied, your pillow like a shield between yourself and Mando. Ezra settled back to watch the show, well aware that his smirk was probably insufferable. "I have needs, you know." You continued primly.

Mando's fists clenched on his thighs before he pointedly flattened them back out, fingers dragging over the plates. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't...I'm sorry." He mumbled, patting his leg.

You wavered again and nearly fell. The armored man caught you, settling you down with a cautious tenderness that fired a thrower shot of arousal directly into Ezra's gut. He had always been a weak fool for chivalry, though he was able to display precious little of it in his own life. Oh, this was the best kind of story.

...

Your face burned with embarrassment; why had you told him about your rendezvous with two other members of his Creed? It was like the words just fell out of your mouth, like your brain itself was against you.

You could still remember the way the larger one had pressed his forehead to your own and then encouraged you down his chest to his groin, the way his helmet had tipped back--

A new flood of warmth swept into your cunt and you bit down on your hand to stifle your noise at the pain that followed. Mando paused, then laid your pillow between his open legs. "Lay down on your back." He muttered, patting his leg again. "This way you can see me. I'll be right here."

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize, please." Mando cut you off. "Once this is over, once everything is...over, I...listen, we'll operate as a sealed unit. This maneuver is scrubbed from the start. I never found the quarry. Nothing that we say or do here will ever be mentioned again. Understood?"

Your breath caught in your throat. He was giving you an out. Or himself, you were uncertain. You nodded slowly and his shoulders drooped a little, but whether he was relieved or disappointed…

Well, some secrets were meant to stay that way.

Ezra nodded his own agreement. "It is best to have certain protocol already in place when engaging in uncharted waters." He muttered. "Decidedly militant, but I must surmise your Creed taught you that."

"This is the Way." Mando said firmly.

"If we are operating under burner infantry orders, then I must voice my trepidation about this engagement," Ezra confessed to you. "I have endured this crisis once before and it was not a pleasant experience. I do not envy the pain I am certain you feel at this moment, but I also know that you are in a...compromised and sensitive position. I...if any advance is unwanted, I trust you will inform me. And if I do not respond, if I am too far gone, please have your associate rescind my invitation." He gestured at Mando with his bound hands.

"Wh-What are you going to do to me?" You asked, your voice high in your ears even as you let Mando maneuver you down to the blanket.

"I am going to do for you what your companion cannot, little bird." Ezra's tongue dampened his lips nervously. "And only that, if I understand the situation correctly."

"What he…" you trailed off as a thought occurred to you. Ezra hummed quietly as if to confirm and the sound reverberated through your core, making you whine and squirm restlessly. "Oh, what, stars, you mean-"

"My mouth, little bird." He had a tiny section of blond hair on the right side of his head, the tuft residing rakishly just at his hairline. You hadn't noticed until now, but the whimsical little patch seemed to soften his stern features. "You will need the saliva, regrettably. I am certain that the idea of the mouth of a lowly aurelac harvester on you is a repulsive one, but it is the only way to get the proverbial ball rolling."

"Wait, you have to eat me out?" You asked in confusion, trying to get back up. "Hang on, I should shower, I'll-" Agony raked down your spine and you spasmed, a breathy sound of pain forcing itself past your lips.

Ezra's incredulous chuckle soothed the sensation back down to a manageable level. "What an unexpected offer, little bird! I cannot recall the last time someone bathed specifically for me. You will wholly ensnare me if you continue such considerate behavior."

…

Din's body felt like it was on fire in his armor.

You had gone looking for people like him.

You had gone looking for Mandos because you wanted familiarity. The idea of you sussing out more of his brothers or sisters because you had needs-

Din wasn't sure if he would survive this particular encounter. He was gripping his cuisses so tightly that the leather of his gloves burned against his fingertips. Mandalorians weren't celibate by any stretch of the imagination, but the Creed could make things...more difficult than they needed to be for a variety of species.

Ezra, despite his hands being bound, was remarkably capable. The man had coached you through the pain when you had tried to move, his voice obviously helping you somehow. Djarin wasn't sure if he was jealous or grateful. Maybe both.

The fact that this was causing you to suffer had him loathing how stiff his cock was in his compression leggings, even though from what he had gathered he couldn't actually help that particular reaction.

"I must beg your assistance in disrobing." Ezra was saying softly, tugging at the overly-knotted waistband of your loose pants. "Please, little bird."

"Right, yeah, of course." You mumbled and Djarin could hear the pain in your voice, could feel the twitchy little flinches as you tried to follow Ezra's directions.

Hesitantly, the Mandalorian moved his hands up until they rested on your shoulders. You exhaled a breathy little moan, nuzzling your cheek against his glove in what he had to assume was thanks.

"Better." You gasped, seeming more sure as you struggled to undo the sash at your waist.

"Well done, Steerforth." Ezra praised, causing something warm and wet to pour into Din's abdomen. The armored man's breathing stuttered, was this what Ezra had been feeling the entire time they had been walking? Stars, how had he even managed-

His cock lurched against the tight hold of his leggings, precome dampening his stomach. Without meaning to, Din's fingers tightened on your shoulders and he grunted quietly.

Your eyes shot up, locking with his visor. He knew you couldn't actually see him, but at that moment he felt exposed. "You alright?" You asked quietly, your breath hiccuping when Ezra brushed the stubble of his jaw against your naked thigh. Din ached to do that himself, Maker he wished-

"I'm fine." He choked, like he wasn't roasting alive from the double-edged heat of artificial arousal and jealousy. His left hand slid down, resting at the hollow of your throat. It soothed his ego a little to see that your eyes were still on him, despite what the quarry was about to do.

Ezra, he reminded himself. This man wasn't prey anymore, for all that he was keeping the binders on. Din at least needed that level of control. He needed the stability.

That recurrent devious thought surged forward again, dark and heady. Utilizing Ezra, he could indulge vicariously in the hazy desires he had fought for cycles. The wish to bury his face between your legs and eat you out until you cried, like in the raunchy imagecasts he picked up on rare occasion. Putting his bare hands on you, stars-

Din Djarin was a man of extreme self-control. So far, he hadn't overstepped or shamed the Creed, unless you counted the time he was loaded out of his mind with bacteria-laden quills. He hadn't realized just how many of them were embedded in his back until his vision started getting blurry as he was standing over the nexu's dead body. Served him right for letting the feline get the drop on him before he put his backplate on.

You had been so worried when he returned. You were patched into his coms so you obviously heard the struggle he had dispatching the creature. Heard how ragged his breath got and how hard he had to actually fight.

Din vaguely remembered flopping down on his belly with you hovering over him, pliers in one hand and bacta shot already buried in the meat of his shoulder. Stars, it was great to have a partner sometimes. If he had come back to just the kid like that, he'd probably be dead from an infection. You didn't even make him take off his suit, you just worked around it.

You ended up removing thirty-seven quills of various lengths, most of them bearing nasty hooked barbs. The pain had hit different because of the infection, leaving Djarin trembling boneless and silent on the floor of the hold while you wriggled quills out of his back. He had never felt more helpless, more vulnerable, beskar be damned.

"It's alright. I'm glad you made it back." You had said calmly. "I'm not letting you go alone next time, though."

"Thank you, Senaar…"

Din's face flushed when he recalled how badly his voice had cracked when saying the name he called you by, less speech and more a plaintive cry. The way his glove had slipped over the skin of your cheek, and how he had longed to remove that glove...

Maker, he sullied the Creed with his inability to reconcile over lack of touch. The hunger for skin-to-skin contact that reared its ugly head every time you were out of your heavy exosuit and durasteel served as a painful reminder, one much more poignant than the simple weight of his helm, that he was a Mandalorian.

But this doppelganger loophole was a gift to be thoroughly exploited and he wasn't about to waste that opportunity.

Ezra buried his face between your legs and Din felt the way your entire body coiled up in anticipation, another trembling cry leaving your lips and your hands twisting frantically into the blanket beneath you. "Mando-!"

His name, his name, you were saying his name even with another man's mouth giving you pleasure. Djarin couldn't help the satisfied little growl that left his lips and made its way through his modulator. He heard Ezra chuckle, the other man pausing to shoot him a sly wink over the length of your body. Din nearly laughed.

"Ezra," He said instead, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Make them cry."

He stopped caring about how wrong it was.

…

You gasped at Mando's words, already inches from bursting into tears. Ezra's mouth was slowly coaxing you open, the stubble on his cheeks and jaw rubbing your thighs. Every pass of his tongue, every gentle press and suckle sought to untangle the knotted ball of heat in your belly, but you were certain you would lose your mind before you managed to disperse the agonizing feeling.

You were too full, almost too aroused to handle Ezra's mouth on your cunt but you were positive if he stopped licking at you, you would die. Heat felt like it was sloshing in your belly, there was so much of it...

Ezra placed a series of delicate kisses on your clit, each one lighter than the last. His hands, still secure in their binders, clutched your right thigh for purchase when he pulled back to gulp air. His expression was dazed, eyes managing to focus on the armored man that loomed over you after several long seconds. "Will you not indulge, Steerforth?" He sounded like he was almost begging Mando, voicing what you couldn't bring yourself to say. "They ask for you, how can you sit there so damned impassive?"

Your breath caught in your throat when you heard Mando exhale raggedly, the bounty hunter muttering, "M' not impassive. There's nothing I-"

"Touch them, for fuck's sake!" Ezra cried, pointedly rattling his cuffs. "I cannot do both. We must work together!"

The Mandalorian lurched suddenly up onto his knees, then sprawled over your body, slamming one hand down to support his weight before wrapping his fingers in the neck of Ezra's tattered thermal shirt. "You don't call the shots here, quarry." He snarled in That Voice, the one that he reserved for his bounties.

Your hands crept up to his hips, hyper aware of the sweet taste in your mouth and how good this would feel.

…

Ezra stared at the pitch-black visor inches from his nose. Felt the strength in the gloved hand that threatened to do much more than stretch his shirt.

The prospector took a mental inventory of his body at this juncture, a bit surprised and entertained to find that he was thoroughly invested in this new direction the encounter had taken. Mando was no doubt glaring at him from the safety of that impregnable helm, the other man's hackles obviously raised by the jab from the prospector.

It mattered very little at this point in time, however, as Ezra heard a zipper fly open. Mando flinched so hard Ezra felt it in his back, and the sound you made was enough to get the devil to start sweating. "Seems that you may be outnumbered, Steerforth."

"Target rich--environment-" The armored man snarled. "Senaar, y-your--mouth, fuck-"

He stuttered. He stuttered. Ezra latched onto that weakness with a filthy grin, easily twisting out of the other man's grip to duck his head back down and taste you. Mando's other hand hit the blanket as you undulated your hips up to meet Ezra's mouth. Ezra could only imagine the noises you were making around the other man's cock. He knew you were making them by the way Mando's arms quivered. And wasn't that a sight, a man in full armor rendered helpless by the power of a warm, eager mouth on his cock.

"Watch me now, Steerforth." Ezra crooned, tilting his face up to make presumed eye contact. "This is how you make them weep with pleasure." He was sure that his chin was dripping pink at this point and he knew, even without seeing the other man's face, that Mando was barely hanging on. He had to salute the armored man's dedication. A less devout individual would have given out before they made it to the floor.

The Medusine barrier that the Serpentia formed was slowly weakening under the gentle assault of his mouth, Ezra was pleased to notice. Of course, he wasn't exactly rushing, simply going at a steady pace to keep your pain to a bare minimum. You had begun to leak around the barrier, your arousal even warmer than he had expected. Ezra couldn't tell whether it was because he was under the effects of the pollen or whether it was reality that you tasted immaculate, but he reasoned that it didn't particularly matter.

He was hungry enough to cope with either happenstance.

"Little bird, fuck my face, won't you?" He requested sweetly, chuckling at your enthusiastic response. "Grind yourself to completion on my tongue, break the barrier so that your associate can sheathe himself balls deep in this delectable pussy and give you respite."

...

"Fuck." Din rasped, his eyes wide behind the visor of his helmet. The way that Ezra spoke was like fucking music, the man wrapping filthy words in flowery, incomprehensible syntax.

The Mandalorian's fingers tangled resolutely in the blanket, the armored man panting as you urged his aching dick even further down your throat. Your hands grappled with his thighs, shoving them wider and then taking two hungry handfuls of his rear to encourage him.

"Senaar-" he started to warn you off, but stopped dead when you moaned around him. Stars, he wondered how you could even breathe--

You pulled back, coughing and gasping. "You're doing so well, little bird." Ezra murmured from between your legs. Your only reply was to take Din's cock back into your mouth and oh fuck you weren't stopping-

Your hand found Djarin's in the blankets and you tugged on it, forcing him to try and figure out how to redistribute his weight so you could have the appendage. He managed it of course, he was a fucking Mandalorian after all, but there was a moment where he nearly lost his balance.

You guided his hand to your neck and Din couldn't fight back the groan he let out when he felt his cock bulging through your throat. Fuck, no one had ever been able to take this much of him into their mouth before, halfway was usually the stopping point.

Djarin grunted and tilted his head down to watch you struggle, finally wrapping a hand around his cock and easing it back out of your mouth. Strands of saliva connected the engorged head of his dick to your lips. Din sighed stupidly at the sight, fisting his dick and coating his glove with your spit. "You're good at this, Senaar." He said gruffly, knowing that it wasn't really praise, not like how Ezra said it. But words had never been his forte.

"Keep speaking to them Steerforth, they leak at every word out of your mouth." Ezra encouraged from between your legs. "That's right little bird, just a bit more…"

Din was startled, to say the least. You liked when he talked? "I…" he hesitated, then his brow furrowed. "Can't wait to fuck you, Senaar." You whimpered, your hips shuddering. "Fuck you until you don't remember your own fucking name." Din growled. "Breed you like a good Mando should, pump you full of my come just like my Creed-siblings did, right?"

You nodded against his thigh, your sweat seeping through his flight suit to meet his own liberal perspiration. He was so hot, his armor had never been this hot--

"Kevva, that's a kink I didn't anticipate." Ezra panted, pink slick smeared all over his nose and chin. "They certainly like it though, if I understand correctly."

Din could smell you, smell the sweet scent of that fruit mixed with your own arousal. His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of Ezra's neck and he nearly headbutted him on reflex, barely reining the power back in time. Ezra seemed confused at first, the other man obviously dazed with heat and just sort of allowing Djarin to shove his face against his helmet.

…

The helm was so cool, Ezra couldn't restrain a relieved sigh when he made contact. Mando appeared to be rubbing your essence all over his helmet, utilizing Ezra's face as a paintbrush. Unorthodox, but effective.

"Oh," Ezra realized, "you've got some sort of olfactory sensors in there, don't you. You lewd creature you!" He teased breathlessly. "If you think they smell sumptuous, I regret to inform you that their taste utterly puts that to shame." Words were heavy in his mouth, the prospector having to work harder and harder to put sentences together. It wouldn't be long before his senses wholly abandoned him, he was certain. "Release me, Steerforth, I must…I must carry out my end of the bargain." He groaned, struggling free. "We are almost at their climax."

Mando was nearly vibrating with anticipation, gloved fingers clawing at Ezra's hair. "Careful," was all the armored man said hoarsely.

Ezra nodded, once again touched by the bounty hunter's surprising display of consideration for his partner. "When the barrier breaks, they will need your cock immediately, Steerforth. I will...not be coherent for much longer." He mumbled against your cunt, giving up on speech after Mando nodded.

With one last sweep of his tongue, the barrier dissolved. You sobbed out, your voice breaking as you writhed beneath your large companion and bucked your hips up against Ezra's eager mouth. Slick fairly poured out of you, leaking down your thighs and soaking the blanket beneath you.

Ezra didn't remember wriggling his bound hands beneath your rear, simply returning to his senses with your legs over his shoulders and his lungs burning for air but you tasted so good, he felt raw with hunger.

Mando's gloved hand covered nearly the entirety of his face, easing him back from his feast. Ezra watched the other man's chest heave in a daze until he suddenly remembered what he was doing. "I apologize, I...I am too far gone." He murmured in contrition, lowering your hips back to the floor.

"Ask nicely to fuck their mouth." Mando ordered, his blunt words digging into Ezra's groin. "You said it hurt you last time because you were alone. You helped them not to hurt. If they don't want to let you to fuck their mouth though, I'll…" he hesitated, "I'll figure something else out. Nobody has to hurt."

"'Something else'?" Ezra repeated, stunned. What on earth could this armored man possibly be offering? Those gloves were remarkably soft, the leather worn smooth from a lifetime of use, no doubt- "Oh."

…

The pain had eased, only to be replaced by a searing emptiness. You squirmed beneath Mando, tangentially aware that he was engaged in a discussion with Ezra. Your hand flew to your pussy, the drenched area making an embarrassingly loud noise when you thrust two fingers into yourself in an effort to quell the ache.

"Maker, please, please, Mando!" you begged, barely aware of what you were saying. The heat concentrated in your pelvis was burning you alive, desperate tears pouring down your face.

Mando stood to his full height, towering over you, just watching you quiver while you pleaded deliriously. He fairly ambled around your body, moving until he stood between your spread legs. His boot shoved your ankle, opening you even further, exposing every inch of you and the mess that covered the blanket under you. "Senaar." The low burr of modulation made you rock your hips up, whimpering and nodding when he stroked his cock like he was showing off.

Somewhere, deep in your soul, you prayed that he liked what he saw even without the strange pollen instigating.

He knelt, gloved fingers curling beneath your chin to pull your eyes up from his thick, perfect cock and the puddle of precome it was currently weeping onto your pubic mound. His touch sent flickering trails of electricity through your body, and you could barely focus on what he was asking.

"Ezra...mouth?"

You nodded rapidly, making Mando bark out what could have been a laugh. He cupped your jaw again, and then his hand stroked your hair in a way that was almost tender.

"I'll make you feel better." He promised. Ezra was a mess, he looked like you felt. The quarry simply let Mando shove him down onto his knees, his eyes half-lidded. "Undo your suit." Mando ordered and Ezra shakily attempted to obey. He was having a difficult time with his hands still in the binders so you reached out, batting his hands away impatiently to unzip the lower portion of his exosuit.

His thermal leggings were threadbare like his shirt, the waffle-weave fabric soaked through. His cock visibly twitched when you exhaled sharply. "Do not tease me, little bird, I feel as if I am on death's doorstep." The man pleaded through his teeth, "I am raw and agony gnaws at my skin; please take me in your mouth."

"I have to get your pants off." You tried to explain, fumbling with the article of clothing. The noise of despair he made had you frantically clawing at the pants, finally dragging them down low enough that his cock was freed. It slapped against his belly and he moaned, bound hands digging helplessly into your hair.

"May I please have your mouth?" He requested raggedly. "I will not take it if you do not give it freely but please, little bird."

After he had worked so hard to get you to come? You were nodding hurriedly before he finished speaking, and his deep, drawn-out groan of relief was like music to your ears when you swallowed him down.

…

You were radiating warmth, your hips twitching and shifting restlessly even as you tried to get Ezra's dick out of his suit. Din had to hand it to the other man, he did ask nicely.

But there were much more pressing matters to attend to. Mainly, your neglected cunt that was currently leaking all over the underside of his cock. Djarin took a steadying breath, and then slowly sank himself into your waiting heat.

Your cry of relief was fucking primal, a hungry, feral snarl that slithered hot and seething in his stomach under the beskar plate. Din was wholly, entirely lost, finding himself mentally shattered at the first stroke into your body. Your thighs trembled on either side of his hips and then your legs fell open, like you didn't have the strength to hold them up.

Shit, he knew he should say something, he knew he should be reluctant about this, but it was like every cell of his body needed you to fucking survive.

Maybe he always had.

Din bared his teeth and growled back at you, his attention divided between watching you eagerly suck Ezra's cock and watching the way his own dick split you open. His passage was eased by the strange pink fluid that continued to ooze out of you, stars it was so hot-

Ezra's fingers tangled in your hair after a moment, the prospector cradling your head to his groin in a manner that could have almost been described as gentle.

"Is this how my Creed-siblings f-ucked you, Senaar?" Din's voice grated in his chest, the armored man barely aware of the heated words tumbling out of his mouth. "Filling you, claiming you, fucking your throat and pussy?"

"Kevva." Ezra breathed. "Your peculiar voice working in tandem with your cock appears to be the thing that turns them into a voracious harlot. I do not know if I have ever-" His sentence broke momentarily, "oh, fuck, very well little bird, take the whole of it then." He grunted, raking his fingers through your hair as you deepthroated him. "You are absolutely magnificent at that, you know." The other man praised shakily.

Your cunt fluttered around Djarin's cock and he felt your arousal soak through his suit, hot fluid sliding down to coat his balls. "Stars, did you just come?" He groaned, unable to stop the filthy noise he made when you whined around Ezra's dick and nodded as best as you could. His fingers gripped your thigh, digging into the skin as he began to rut against you. The Mandalorian threw his head back, panting, "Feel so fucking--good around me, fuck, Senaar, so good-"

…

You felt like you were falling apart again and again. The taste, the sensations, the curling knot of heat in your belly that released inch by inch. Mando's hand on your thigh and Ezra's grip on your head were the things that allowed you to hold on to your sanity, but only just.

Mando was conquering you utterly, his dick driving into you with enough force that you knew you would be aching later, but in the moment you never wanted him to stop. You had craved him, wished for him for so long, to finally have him was total bliss.

And Ezra, Ezra, his silky voice caressing your body as his bound hands carded through your hair. His cock choked you again and again and every time you had to pull back off of him for breath he praised you, talked about how good you were, how no one had ever taken him as deep as you…

You were in heaven.

Ezra abruptly retreated, his cock smearing more precome across your lips. "If you continue on in this manner I will be undone, little bird." He muttered. "Your one-sided assault, while inescapably delicious, is rendering me wholly base. You wish for me to spill my seed on your face?" His hips twitched. "Or shall I fuck my come down your throat, request that you swallow every drop?"

"Fuck it into them." Mando rasped before you could say anything in reply, a gloved hand grabbing your chin. "Fuck your load i-into that sweet little mouth of theirs. Give them what they fucking need, quarry." He demanded, and you nearly came again from how unhinged he sounded.

"Well, little bird?" Ezra asked softly, his eyes dark with want. "Shall I take my pleasure from your lewd little mouth and let your beautiful throat milk me dry?"

"Please!" You begged, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to encourage him.

Ezra sighed blissfully at the sight, lacing his fingers through your hair and encouraging you to take his cock until your nose rested against his groin. "Fuc-king gods, you are positively celestial." He groaned, "Relegating yourself to a singular partner would be doing you a disservice, little bird. I highly encourage you to weaponize your talents in whatever field you wish."

Come flooded your mouth, his cock twitching heavily against your tongue. Your eyes rolled back, your lungs burning for air and you dimly heard Mando snarl, dropping his helm to rest on your sternum. The metal was blessedly cool even through your tunic, helping to anchor you to reality.

"Fucking touch me, please." Mando's voice shook even with the modulator, his words buzzing through your body. "Senaar please, fuck, pl-please, touch me, fucking--"

Your palms crashed into his shoulders, hips bucking upwards to meet his next thrust and you came again. Mando made a noise that you could only liken to a roar, the armored man grappling at your hips and grinding himself against your dripping cunt.

"Senaar, Senaar, Senaar--" The name he had given you punctuated every thrust, his rasping tone making your belly drop out. You weren't sure if you would ever stop coming, grasping blindly at Mando and Ezra while your cunt gripped down on Mando's cock.

…

If Ezra still had any doubts about being a blatant proxy for the armored man, that was obliterated in his post-orgasm daze.

A gloved hand slid to the back of his neck and tugged him down to your mouth. Ezra went clumsily but willingly, the prospector humming when he tasted himself and the cloying sweetness of the Serpentia on your tongue. You sobbed against his lips and Ezra soothed you with his mouth, accepting all of your hungry whimpers and whines as he stroked your hair back off your forehead.

"Little bird, little bird, you will want for nothing with this individual pummeling you so mercilessly." He breathed, relishing the soft cry that quivered against the skin of his neck. "I imagine you can feel every inch of that prodigious girth, burning like unquenchable quicksilver, threatening to breach your very womb." He moved his bound hands down, resting them on your stomach. "Steerforth, I trust you are punishin' their cervix with every thrust?" He queried, chuckling darkly when Mando just snarled in reply.

You threw your head back, hands fisted in the fabric between Mando's pauldrons and gorget. "Mando-!" You pleaded, "fuck!"

Mando's hands dug beneath the small of your back and he canted your hips upwards, sheathing his cock in the cradle of your body over and over. Ezra envied the armored man's stamina, grunting when he felt his member trying to rise again. Whether he could blame the pollen for that, he was unsure, but the lovely company certainly did nothing to dissuade his arousal. Watching this large, almost knightly figure rail into you, your face still a mess of tears from when Ezra had fucked your mouth…

Kevva, he could not recall a time where he had been so content to simply play voyeur, pressing the occasional kiss to your lips at Mando's behest. "Such tenderness, what a dichotomous sensation for you," the prospector mused, "the contrast between armor and flesh." His mouth brushed against your ear when he continued, "However, I believe you're beginning to realize that there is an untapped wellspring of man beneath all that metal, am I correct little bird?"

...

You squeezed your eyes shut and Din's hand reached up, the bounty hunter unable to keep from cradling your cheek. "I always knew." You said, your voice barely audible. "I-I always...I always-"

"Be quiet." Din grunted. "Y-You...don't have to say it." His heart slamming in his chest had nothing to do with his current exertion. You knew. Shame reached him dimly through the haze of arousal. All the times he ached to touch you, all the times he battled with himself over his desire for contact…

Your hand gripped the back of his helmet and he flinched sharply. He hadn't noticed you move and you could pull his helmet off, shit, he was so stupid for doing this! His eyes flew to yours, even though he knew you couldn't see through his visor.

After a moment of him fighting back his panic, you just shook your head. "S-Sealed unit, ri-ght?" You asked, your words hitching with his thrusts. Djarin nodded warily. Your eyes half-lidded and you knocked your forehead into his helmet, the gesture unmistakable to a Mandalorian.

A kiss.

Was his heart breaking, or just fucking giving out under the assault of this insane pollen? Was he overloaded? Was this all just some wild hallucination?

Din frantically shoved his helmet against your face, pinning your head back to the pillow. Shit, he needed to be careful, you didn't have armor. "Senaar, I--" Basic had always been so damn heavy on his tongue. Mando'a flowed, but it was secret. Sacred. Djarin hesitated and you reached up again, cradling the indents on his helmet.

"Always. Even with this." You whispered.

His brain had short-circuited. The roaring in his ears was deafening and he knew he was making some kind of ugly, wounded noise, but he couldn't actually do anything about it.

Always. Always.

His heart must have blown, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for what he was feeling right now.

…

The sound that Mando made after you assured him was heartwrenching, a guttural sob that seemed like a mixture of agony and ecstasy. He clawed at the blanket beneath you, gasping for breath as he all but broke you in half, his dick ripping yet another orgasm from your hungry cunt.

You were lightheaded from his prolonged fucking, your pussy in spasm around his thick cock, but you refused to give out yet. "Did you feel me come, Mando?" You whimpered against the side of his helmet, wringing more feral noises out of him. "Is it good?"

"Fuck, incredible, s-so--" Mando gripped your thigh, hitching it up over his hip and then dragging his fingers hungrily through the pink slick that had pooled in the crease of your hip. "Never want to leave, fuck, m'sorry, I know I'm t-taking--forever-"

"Only a fool apologizes for his length in the bedroom." Ezra remarked dryly, dipping down to kiss you when you laughed. "How do you fare, little bird?"

"So good." You sighed, feeling half-drunk on your orgasm high. The knot in your belly had finally gone slack, leaving you weak and trembling beneath Mando as he chased his own completion. You hummed and Ezra rumbled back, his touch remarkably careful when he cupped your chin.

"You have done so well." Ezra murmured. "Serpentia is no simple storm to weather, yet you have endured." Mando wordlessly bumped his helmet against Ezra's temple, the metal rubbing over the blond tuft of hair the quarry sported. "You are most welcome, Steerforth." Ezra chuckled. "One is glad to be of service, but please. You threatened to fill them, didn't you?"

Mando's hips faltered in their rhythm and the armored man finally came with a shattered moan of relief. Stars, you weren't sure if you had the Serpentia to blame for the sheer volume that he came; you could feel it frothing out of you around his cock as he continued to shudder and writhe through his orgasm.

"Holy shit, Mando." You said incredulously, unable to fight back the urge to slip a hand down between your bodies. "You told me Mandalorians were rare."

"We--are." Mando panted raggedly, his cock still twitching inside you.

"If you come like this, how?" You asked, your combined fluids soaking your questing fingers. Mando just stared at you for a moment, shoulders heaving while he struggled to catch his breath.

And then he started laughing, which was...not nearly as terrifying as you had expected, honestly. "Stars, you--" He wheezed, his helm thudding gently against your forehead. "Fuck you, Senaar." You could hear him grinning, his voice still warm with laughter.

"Odd method of displaying affection. I take it your Creed is of a fraternitous bent?" Ezra commented, a quiet noise of surprise escaping him when you tugged him down for a kiss.

"Thank you." You mumbled drowsily into his mouth.

"Hardly. I ought to thank you. When last I endured the Serpent's grasp, I was incarcerated and driven to gratify myself to ribbons on the inside of my gear." Ezra informed you, his tone nonchalant. "This experience was a rare moment of hedonistic bliss in my life. Believe me when I say I shall cherish it."

He straightened up before you could say anything in reply, extending his bound wrists to Mando.

"Whither to, my recalcitrant steerforth?"

Mando ignored him for another moment, stroking your forehead tenderly. He appeared to have noticed your weariness, because he sounded softer when he spoke. "Sleep, Senaar. It's over."

…

"I'll cut you loose on Sorgan."

Ezra swiveled in the co-pilot chair, knowing that his expression must border on the befuddled. When the armored man had left you to sleep, hauled Ezra into the cockpit and secured his binders to the chair, the prospector had assumed that whatever agreement they struck previously was rendered null and void. "I would be...wholeheartedly grateful to you, Steerforth." He breathed.

"I never found you. Your pod malfunctioned and you burned alive in the atmosphere." Mando instructed him in that level, modulated voice. "Stop stealing shit and I won't have to hunt you down again."

"Those men stole from me!" Ezra retorted hotly, knocking his elbow down into the white case that hung off his hip. "I worked alone for stands and they came along right at the most opportune juncture, put a thrower to my head and robbed me! I simply reclaimed-"

Mando waved a hand, interrupting his self-righteous tirade. "You and I both know that it doesn't matter. I'm forfeiting the credits this time, but next time…" he trailed off pointedly. "Don't get caught again. If someone else from my Guild chapter picks up your bounty, Mandalorian or otherwise, they will catch you."

Mando leaned in close, his elbows resting on his knees and helmet propped up on his folded hands. Ezra felt for all the world like a specimen underneath a microscope, barely suppressing the urge to squirm nervously.

"The bounty specified that you be captured warm." The armored man said after a beat. "No promise of half-payment upon cold delivery or even proof of demise. So whoever you got into a pissing match with wants to be the one to put that last slug into your brain. You already heard my advice. For your own good, I suggest you lay low and be fucking quiet." He gestured out the cockpit viewport at the green sphere that hovered in the distance. "There's good people on that planet. Good people that I care about. If you bring hunters to their doorstep, I will find out. And then I will find you."

Kevva have mercy, this man was no joke. Ezra was having a difficult time just mustering up the breath to give him an affirmation! Was this truly the same Lancelot he had watched engage in lotus-eating debauchery with his Guinevere not two hours hence? Ezra's belly roiled uncertainly, arousal and fear a potent combination. This must be how the bounty hunter indulged himself without divesting his plate, the prospector reasoned dimly. Fear was a remarkably stimulating thing. "Of course." He finally answered, his voice a little reedy. "Your mercy is...unexpectedly generous, but no less appreciated for its spontaneity."

Mando grunted, seeming satisfied with his response. The armored man returned to the control panel after a moment, flipping a few switches. The entire ship appeared to be miles above what Ezra was used to. Even the Testin had a dog-eared manual that hung from a chain by the central dash, and the craft was such a rattling nightmare that she needed three bodies just to keep her straight. But this man, this...Mandalorian, he operated the whole blasted vessel with a fluid ease.

His next words were so quiet Ezra nearly missed them. "Thank you."

"Pardon?" Ezra queried blankly.

Mando heaved a sigh that made his pauldrons visibly dip. "I said, thank you." He growled awkwardly. "I don't know what...I don't know if I would have hurt them because of--because of how I am."

"It will do no good to ruminate on such dour subjects." Ezra hesitated, then continued, "but your Creed...would you have broken it for them, had you known about the requirements of the Medusine barrier?"

"I…" Mando tightened his hold on the directionals, those gloves creaking with his tension. "I'm not sure." He admitted, lapsing into silence afterwards.

"Your ship is marvelously responsive." Ezra murmured by way of changing the subject. "It reminds me of a diminutive Screamer-class that I endured a few stands on, oh, nearly fifteen cycles ago-"

"Be quiet."

…

Din watched Ezra until he vanished between the large trunks of Sorgan's conifers, the Mandalorian then dropping back into the pilot's seat with a groan. Maker, he hoped he was doing the right thing. Hoped he hadn't just unleashed some mass-murdering psychopath on the unsuspecting populace.

Djarin tilted his helmet back against the headrest of the seat, aimlessly staring up at the fuselage.

What the hell was he going to say when you woke up?

Din's heart sank. He knew that he couldn't believe anything that had come out of your mouth while you had been under the effects of that fruit. Serpent's Tongue. He chewed his lower lip meditatively.

He could lie.

He fucking cringed at the thought, then shook his head at himself. You would be embarrassed at best, but at worst…

Shit, he didn't want to lose you, even if you didn't feel the same way about him. And then there was the kid to worry about. No, a lie would be better.

You had sought out other Mandos. His stomach lurched as he recalled that little fact. Fuck, fuck, was it hope that beat so insistently in his throat?

A sealed unit, he had said.

He just wouldn't bring it up. He was the one who had insisted that this whole maneuver was struck from the proverbial records in the first place, right? He just wouldn't mention it. Easy enough. If you said something, that was fine, but otherwise…

Din nodded firmly. This is the Way.

Part Two

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awhitehead17 · 2 years

Text

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 69: “I bought you a ticket.”

Enjoy! :D

Kon lets out a huff when his screen turns to black and as Tim lets out a cheer next to him. That’s the third time in the row Tim’s managed to kill his character now, it’s starting to piss him off. They were playing a multi-player game and Tim is kicking his ass at it, the sore loser side of him wants to accuse Tim of cheating but the actual fact is that Kon’s just shit at the game.

A new starting screen comes up on the TV and before they press play Kon gets up and announces he’s getting another drink and offers to get Tim one. When he returns from the kitchen and back to the living room where they’re currently camping out, Tim is on his phone looking intensely at something.

As soon as he hears Kon return he looks up. “I’ve just had a reminder on my phone about the suit fitting we have tomorrow at three and then how we’re meeting Dick and Babs afterwards for dinner.”

Kon pauses and frowns. “Huh, what suit fitting? I thought you had enough of those already. I remember about meeting for dinner though.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at him and it makes Kon feel like he’s forgotten something important. Kon continues forward handing Tim his glass before settling down beside him, once he’s sat his boyfriend elaborates further.

“It’s your suit fitting Kon. For the awards show in a couple weeks. We need to get you a new one as your other one is old and worn.” Tim’s beginning to look a little confused himself.

Kon stares at him dumbfounded. He has no idea what Tim is on about. What award show? What is he on about?

His thoughts are clearly expressed on his face because soon Tim is giving him a similar look in return. When he next speaks he sounds sceptical. “I did tell you about that right?” Kon continues to blink at him, because no, he did not, he hasn’t said anything about it. Kon’s silence turns out to be enough because Tim suddenly look sheepish. “Oh woops. My bad, sorry.”

They fall into silence and Kon continues to stare at Tim waiting for him to explain what he’s been on about. Apparently Tim doesn’t get the memo because he stays quiet and is now staring the screen in front of them.

After several beats Kon huffs, places his drink down, and rolls his eyes before speaking up. “So? What am I getting a suit for? Some awards show you neglected to tell me about?”

Tim snaps his gaze back to Kon and finally seems to realise an explanation is needed. Also setting his drink down, he nods. “Yeah, so in two weeks or so we’re going to the Oscars as guests. You need a new suit for an event like that. Because of whom he is Bruce got offered to buy tickets to attend as a guest and there’s about five of us going overall. Perks of being a billionaire I guess.”

Kon stares at Tim gobsmacked. Did he just say the Oscars? As in the Oscars that is one of the biggest award shows in the world? What!

“So when Bruce offered to get me a ticket, I made sure that you got one too,” Tim continues speaking completely oblivious to Kon’s state of shock, “because you think I’m going to go there by myself? Yeah no way, so you’re coming along too!”

“What!” Kon exclaims still feeling entirely speechless.

Tim now looks amused at Kon’s reaction. “What? I bought you a ticket to the Oscars Kon. Or well Bruce did but I made sure that you got one, same difference.”

Kon’s suddenly having a hard time breathing. Tim can’t be serious can he? The tickets must have cost thousands! How can he just casually say he’s got a ticket like that? That’s also not mentioning who’ll be attending the awards. So many celebrities will be there, Kon is going to be surrounded by the most famous people on the planet, that’s such a big thing to be aware of.

Now Kon’s delt with famous people in the past before, hell he’s somewhat famous himself, but that’s all his persona, Superboy, not Conner Kent! How on earth is he going to deal with this.

“Kon. Conner!”

Kon snaps his attention to Tim. His boyfriend now looks concerned and even a little guilty, most likely because he almost sent Kon into a panic attack for that dropping that bombshell of news onto him.

“You okay? Breathe for me.” Tim instructs slowly. After a minute Kon feels slightly calmer and more in control of himself.

He glances at Tim. “You seriously got me a ticket to go to the Oscars with you? I don’t think I’m going to be able to pay you back for that Tim! It’s an insane amount of money.”

Tim gives him a scolding look which doesn’t have any real heat behind it. “Don’t even bother Kon. I don’t care about the money, don’t even think about that part of it. I want you to come along with me as my boyfriend and enjoy the evening and meet some incredible people.”

Kon takes a deep breath and tries to accept Tim’s words. He’ll do his best to not think about it but it’s going to be hard.

Once the news has settled in his mind the confusion, worry and panic quickly disappears and turns into feelings of happiness, excitement and disbelief. He stares at Tim with wide eyes. “We’re going to the Oscars. We’re going to the Oscars Tim!”

Tim lets out a laugh and unable to himself Kon tackles Tim in a hug and they fall together onto the floor. “You’re amazing.” Kon says squeezing Tim tightly. He pauses before adding on. “I always forget how damn rich you are sometimes, it can actually be terrifying.”

Tim hugs him back and only shrugs in response. They stay hugging on the ground for a long while but it soon turns into a make out session as Kon presses his lips against Tim’s fiercely. Once they part for a breather Tim gasps “bedroom?” before dragging Kon in for another kiss. Kon hums in agreement and proceeds to causally lift Tim up off the floor in his arms and make his way towards the bedroom. The game they had been playing is completely forgotten as they move onto a different activity.

#timkon #Tim Drake #Kon-El #humour #fluff #oblivious tim #kon is a mess #rich tim #he just has no awareness #tickets #oscars #I don't know how they work #lets just pretend #100 ways to say i love you #fanfiction

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 4 years

Text

Comin' At My Friends Like a Missile

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Paring: 12th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 2,859

Warnings: a passive aggressive homophobic character (which plays a role in the plot)

Summary: The Doctor takes you, Bill, and Nardole to a fair on a distant planet to try what he says is "the best Candy Floss in the Universe". It’s incredibly busy, and it is almost impossible to find a seat, and Nardole uses it as an opportunity to set you and the Doctor up.

A/N: I just finished reading a duology recently (Crier’s War, amazing) so, inspired by that, this will be a duology too! The next and final part will be out same time next week. (this part hasn’t be edited due to technically difficulties).

The Doctor wasn’t kidding when he said this fair was home to the “best candy floss in the universe”. The area in front of the booth was packed, with people squished up against each other like it was a mosh pit, and not like it was a queue for candy floss.

You stood on your tiptoes, trying to reach the Doctor’s height as the pair of you scanned for somewhere the four of you could sit. It was no use, the Doctor was standing on a box.

“Which is cheating, by the way,” You told him when you petulantly brought up the box again. You had to shout to be heard, the crowd around you was deafening. “You’re tall enough as it is.”

Above you, the Doctor huffed. “I’ve got better eyesight than you, it’s schematics.”

“Uh huh,” you sighed under your breath, then gripped onto his arm so you could balance yourself.

The fair was lively, to say the least. The candy floss booth was in the centre of what seemed to be a food court - if that’s what you could even call it. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it, with different shacks set up in a hodgepodge collection, and a myriad of tents scattered behind, where, you assumed, people could eat and relax. It was loud, and you heard snatches of conversation from a family passing by, but you paid little attention to it.

You nudged the Doctor’s box with your shoe, belatedly wondering where the hell he’d found the thing. “So it’s not just your incessant need to be bigger, taller, and more important than everyone else then?”

The Doctor looked down at you. “Y/N,” he said, utterly aghast. “I don’t need to stand on a box for that.”

You rolled your eyes at that, trying not to grin. “So Doctor, what do your elven eyes see?”

The Doctor screwed up his face, his eyebrows hiding his eyelashes. “My what?” He groaned. “Really? Lord of the Rings?”

“The Uruks have turned northeast,” Bill cried out, running up beside you. You turned to see where Nardole was, who was slowly bumbling his way up to you all. “They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!”

You laughed in delight. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

“Nah,” she said. “Saw the movies though.” Bill was bubbling, bouncing up and down on the spot. She must have been really excited to try this candy floss.

You didn’t blame her, apparently it changed colours.

Nardole came up beside you, giving Bill a slight look of disbelief. “The movies, only the movies?”

“Arwen,” Bill said. “Need I say more.”

You hummed in agreement, she was completely right, after all.

You put your feet back firmly on the ground. “So what did you guys find?”

“Well,” Nardole said. “There’s good news and annoying news.”

“That’s not really how the phrase works, but continue.”

“They’ve got tables for us,” Bill said. “The Doctor was right, we just waved the psychic paper at them and boom, instant tables.”

“Tables,” the Doctor said. “No, that won’t work.”

“That’s where the annoying news comes in,” Nardole said.

You gave Bill a look of bafflement, one that she returned. “Alright,” You turned to look up at the Doctor. “What’s wrong with tables?”

“Tables, as in plural,” The Doctor clarified. “Not what we want.”

“Yeah,” Nardole drew out the word. “They don’t have space for a group of four, they only have space for two groups of two.”

Bill shrugged. “I’m honestly fine with it, I just want to try this candy floss.”

“Yeah alright, I’m good with it too then,” You tugged the Doctor’s coat, getting his attention. “I don’t think it’s as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. We can split up.”

The Doctor grumbled something, you caught snatches of it, something about it not being the experience he wanted, but the crowd was so loud that you couldn’t completely make it out.

“Well,” Nardole clapped his hands together. “Let’s go.”

You yanked the Doctor, causing him to stumble off the box, and the pair of you followed Nardole and Bill. You sidestepped people in the crowd, trying not to trip on the uneven dirt path, and soon arrived at the tent.

A security guard glanced over the four of you, nodded at Nardole, and pulled the flap of the tent back.

“Oh,” you gasped as you went inside. It was… well, it was beautiful. The inside of the tent was a rich mahogany, and was lined with golden embroidery which snaked its way into the roof. The great big pole holding the tent up was a dusty gold, which looked worn down by age.

There were dozens of voices that littered the area, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as it was outside, you could hear yourself think, you could hear yourself breathe.

The smell of sugar hit your nose as you spun around, trying to take in everything all at once, from the white tables, the myriad of rugs that littered the floor, and the floating candle trays that dotted the tent and lit up the room. The smell was sweet and slightly tangy, and was pretty foreign to you.

You loved it, you absolutely loved it.

You turned to the Doctor with a grin. “This is incredible,” you gushed. “Completely incredible.”

“Yeah,” Bill said, her face split into a wide, overjoyed smile of her own. “Thank you so much for this.”

The Doctors face broke out into a small smile at your reactions. “I’m pretty good at ideas, so I’ve been told.”

Nardole gave you a considered look, and you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “Hey Bill,” he said, still looking at you. “Wanna buddy up?”

You narrowed your eyes at Nardole. He did not just do that.

Bill shrugged. “Yeah sure, alright. You’re getting the candy floss for us though, yeah?”

“Could you get some for all of us?” The Doctor asked, his gaze focusing on you.

“Yeah of course,” Nardole winked at you, giving you a wry smirk, and you glared at him. “C’mon Bill,” he said, completely satisfied with the outcome. “Let’s find our table.”

You watched them walk off for a moment, trying to shake off whatever awkward tension had grown between you and the Doctor. It was in your head right? It had to be in your head. Then it dawned on you. “Oh my god we don’t know where our table is.”

You and the Doctor stared at each other for a moment before you burst into laughter. The Doctor chuckled with you, and stood to your side.

“If I had to guess,” he said. “I’d say it would be that table there,” he pointed at one of the only tables that was deserted, and it was pretty close to Nardole and Bills table.

You nudged his side. “It’s rude to point.”

“Ah yes, duly noted.”

You had barely sat down when you noticed it. You had been looking around the room, enthusing over just how breath-taking the embroidered detail was on the tent, or the wonder in the various different people were here, from their clothes, their alien antennae, and their odd cords that they used for communication.

Bill was ramrod straight in her chair. There was a stranger standing across from her, leaning against Nardole’s chair. Bill was giving the stranger an impossibly fake smile, the kind of smile you hadn't realised she was capable of.

Then again, Bill worked in the food service industry, so you really should have known better.

You felt the Doctor tense beside you, and in an instant he was suddenly standing, pulling you up with him. You were disorientated for a moment, finding your footing before you tried to work out why the hell you were both standing.

He was glaring at the stranger, his eyebrows screwed up into his patented (or, well, if they weren’t patented, they really should be) 'attack eyebrows'.

Oh no.

He took a step forward and you reached out to stop him. It had surprised you, lately, that he let you touch him as much as you now did. He let his hand fall over yours for a second, acknowledging your presence. "What are you doing?" You hissed, trying to stay silent so you didn't draw the attention of the mingling crowds that were around you.

He gestured to the stranger. "That woman-"

You slapped his hand. "No pointing."

He turned to face you, doing what you assumed he presumed was a glare but, honestly, was more like a pout. "-Is saying some incredibly harmful things, and I'm going to stop it."  

You cursed his timelord hearing and placed your hand on his chest, holding him back so you could gauge Bill’s body language, the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene.

Bills jaw was set and it looked as though her smile was plastered on. Beyond that, she looked like she had the situation well in hand.

You looked at the Doctor, mustering your best stern expression. "Bill’s capable, you know she is. You don’t need to rush in and play hero, that’s not what she always needs. Let’s just sit with her and provide support, have her back."

The Doctor’s face fell into a genuine pout as he weighed up your suggestion – it was actually pretty adorable. Then he rolled his eyes. “Yes, alright, fine. You’ve got a point.”

He stalked forward and you followed, heading to the table. He walked around the table so he was on the far side, and you slid in on the closest side. It meant that the pair of you were sitting either side of Bill, flanking her. Moral support.

You squeezed her leg under the table, and she looked to you in gratitude.   

"Hello, I don't think we've met," The Doctor said, sticking his hand out to the stranger. "I'm the Doctor."  

You frowned at his outstretched hand, since when did the Doctor shake hands? The stranger took his hand and immediately winced. You almost groaned as the stranger took her hand back, cradling it in the other.

Ah okay, so a power play. That was why the Doctor was suddenly shaking hands.

“And you are?” She asked, nodding to you.

“Hm?” You placed your elbow on the table, leaning your hand onto your fist. “Oh sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you lied, and you felt Bill stifle a laugh beside you. “Could you repeat what you said?”

The stranger blinked a few times, straightened her smile, then cleared her throat. In that order. It was quite disconcerting. “I said my name is Karen, and you are?”

Karen. Huh, okay. So the stereotype transcended planets, apparently.

You introduced yourself, not offering your hand. “So” you continued, and you knew you had been behaving a bit rudely, so you aimed to be more polite. Bill didn’t need a hero. “What are you doing here?"

"Well," Karen sat down opposite the three of you, taking Nardole’s seat. Bill tensed beside you and it was clear to you that Karen had never been offered that seat. "We were discussing, oh, I'm sorry, I really have forgotten. What was it you called it?"

Bill stuck her chin out, her eyes going slightly manic as her smile grew. "The LGBTQ+ community."  

Karen chuckled, it sounded hollow and empty. "Ah that's right, the LGB, C, D, E, F G+ community," she laughed again and the sound crawled down your spine. Okay, so this is what the Doctor meant when he said 'incredibly harmful things'.

You reached your hand that was under the table across Bills lap and held the Doctor knee. You heard his chair squeak slightly, and you knew he was relaxing back into the chair.

No heroics.

"I was just asking your friend here earlier," Karen continued. "You do realise it's a sickness don't you?"

You blinked, pursing your lips slightly. You felt for Bills hand, which was clenched in a fist, and rested yours over it.

Right, so apparently alien planets had homophobes too.

You followed Bills lead, you could humour this woman.

"Are you sick?" You asked, and you forced yourself to sound curious, genuinely interested, like you had actually misunderstood what she had said. "Maybe you should go home then, rest up?"

Karen rolled her eyes and gave you a condescending smile. "No silly, I'm saying your friend is unnatural."

You took in a heavy breath, anger spiking in your chest. You squeezed Bill’s hand again, and nudged her shoulder lightly. Contact was the kind of thing that was important in times like this, it was grounding.

You heard the Doctor’s chair screech and you tapped his foot with yours. It squeaked again and in the corner of your eye you saw his fluffy head sit back.

Bill touched her face lightly, frowning slightly. "Hm, no, sorry," She put her hand onto the table. "I've never had work done, not that there's anything wrong with it of course-"

"See, you were doing this earlier,” Karen’s voice was completely patronising, sticky sweet and awful. “I thought your friends here would give you more sense," She was gripping the table cloth, her knuckles white. "I'm saying, as a woman, which you are – right, that you should be with a man."

You felt sick, it was as though her words were manifesting themselves into actual dirt and grime, then caking you in it. It was grotty.

"Like a bodyguard?" The Doctor asked, catching onto what Bill was doing, what she had probably been doing this whole time, before either you or the Doctor had arrived.

God she was wonderful, you were so proud of her.

Bill nudged your shoulder and you followed her lead, staring at the Doctor with her. "Do you mean him?" She stuck her thumb out to the Doctor, who blinked at the pair of you in confusion. "Because he's not really a bodyguard, he’s more like… a taxi driver."

"No," She spat, then visibly stopped herself. She was leaning into the table and you watched her sit back, fixing her posture and painting on that ridiculous fake smile. “I’m saying," she enunciated the words very slowly. "You should be with a man, for a partner."

"What would I need a partner for," Bill laughed but it was a bit forced "I'm not given any group assignments these days, just a lot of essays."  

"The essays I give you are great though," The Doctor defended, which bubbled out an actual laugh from both you and Bill.

Karen groaned so loudly that it almost sounded like a screech. "Oh you two are no better than her, are you?"  

Bill seemed exhausted, and it was then that you realised that this had probably gone on far enough. There was only so long you could go irritating a homophobe before it started to drain on your own mental health too.

"If you're looking for prejudice in this squad you're not going to find it, if that's what you mean." You said simply, plainly. It was a challenge though, she knew it was a challenge, everyone at the table knew it was a challenge.

The Doctor poked his head above Bills to look at you, screwed up his face in confusion, and a mouthed the word 'squad' at you.

You waved him off with the hand that had been supporting your head.

“The difference between you and I,” Bill said. “Is that I’ve got an actual understanding of what love is. And once you learn that, it’s freeing, it’s – it’s liberating.”

Bill leaned into the table slightly, looking at Karen with sincere remorse. “You’re never gonna have that, and I’m so sorry for you.

“As long as you stay trapped in your own prejudice, you’ll never get to learn or experience the full vastness and depth that love has to offer.

“And that’s gotta be the most awful thing someone could ever face. You’re gonna miss out on all these different amazing people, and all these different wonderful experiences – and you’re never even gonna know.

“And you know what the worst thing is; that’s on you. Not me or anyone else, just you.”

Karen swallowed, her bottom lip quivering. You didn’t blame her, Bill’s speech – just, wow, it had been something else. You were insanely impressed, Bill had such a brilliant way with words, and this innate sense of compassion inside her, you couldn’t imagine anyone else conceptualising and saying anything like she had.

“If you could please leave my friend alone now,” the Doctor said, trying to cut through the heavy blanket that was laid over you all. “That’d be appreciated.”

Karen huffed, standing abruptly and stalking off.

The Doctor popped his lips together and turned to you. “Wanna head back outside?”

Bill swallowed, nodding slightly. “Uh – yeah, um, that’s a good idea.”

You wrapped your arm around her, squeezing her against you. “Hey, you did really good there, freakin brilliant. That speech was something else.”

Bill leaned into you. “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

The Doctor pulled out his glasses, tapping away at the side of the rims. “I’ll let Nardole know.”

#the doctor x reader #twelfth doctor imagine #12th doctor x reader #twelfth doctor x reader #12th doctor #Bill Potts #Nardole #Doctor Who #DW

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bookandcranny · 3 years

Text

Shortwave Radio

Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon.

The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.

summary: Five siblings from the stars come to earth by invitation of their estranged little brother, who’s only request to them is that they take a road trip across the American southwest and try to learn to see this planet the way he sees it.

content warnings: dysfunctional families, carsickness, strong language, fear of abandonment, and accidental misgendering of a nonbinary character

length: about 7k words

also, have a playlist!

🛸🛸🛸

On a particularly sticky day in late July, a black minivan rolls up outside Gruber’s Convenience somewhere in the vague liminal world of the i-110 out of El Paso. Shimmering like a mirage the vehicle comes to a stop and five figures shuffle into the station. Working the counter is a greasy-faced teenager who calls himself Benj, though according to his nametag he’s Benjamin until the end of his shift.

If he weren’t intentionally ignoring the group that just walked in, resenting the loss of quiet and the cool air that just escaped with the chime of the door, Benj would notice a few things about them. For one thing, while they all look quite different, all five of them are wearing the exact same clothes: pale blue t-shirt, gray jeans, plain white sneakers, not a toe scuffed or sullied by the dust they kicked up coming in. They’re perfectly inconspicuous outfits, but too new, too deliberate in their banality.

The people in the clothes have much the same effect. They’re collections of ordinary, aesthetically pleasing parts assembled as if at random, almost uncanny at the wrong angle. Not supermodel pretty, but perhaps stock photo passable. One of them keeps touching things. Just, touching them. He trails his fingers over snack cakes and little pouches of corn nuts with an unreadable expression. Three of them are clustered together in front of the drinks fridge speaking in hushed tones.

The last one of the bunch is hovering in the corner making eyes at the shop’s resident mascot, Garfield, an uncreatively named tabby cat who’s taken to sleeping on a box underneath the AC unit. The cashier does notice her (he thinks she’s a her) if only because she’s kind of cute, in a straight-laced camp counselor kinda way. He’s already building up an idea of her in his head, every atom of it more false than he realizes.

The Christine or Sydney or whoever reaches down and gives the cat a poke, which turns into an experimental stroke.

“Mrph?” says Garfield, like cats do.

“Mrph?” parrots the... Liz maybe? No, not quite, he thinks. Garfield blinks at her, yawns. She withdraws, looking half offended by his indifference.

“Don’t take it personal,” Benj says. “He’s not very social.”

She looks at him for the first time and he reevaluates his earlier assessment. Eyes too pale, too far apart-- not ugly per se but definitely not worth the possible write-up he’d get for flirting with a customer.

“He’s the owner’s cat,” he babbles, scratching his chin and looking anywhere but at her. “Or so they say. Honestly I think he just showed up here one day and no one could get him to leave.”

Before she can reply, one of her matching buddies comes up to the register and dumps an assortment of snacks onto the counter. It’s a baffling, eclectic pile, but like any good retail worker Benj has long since learned not to examine anything too closely.

“Road trip, huh? Where are you guys headed?”

The radio behind the counter has gone all staticky. He fiddles with the antenna.

“Visiting family,” says snacks guy. His voice is soft and monotonous, a stark contrast as the guy’s built like a US SEAL.

Benj looks from face to face. “All of you?” He’s having a hard time believing any two of them are related.

He nods, once. A stiff, decisive shake of the head. The crackling of the radio is getting worse. Benj turns it off.

“Will that be everything, sir?”

Another nod.

“Herc, wait!” One of the man’s supposed relatives comes up behind him and shakes him by the shoulders. “Hercules, look at this.”

He slams a book down on the counter, one of the cheap paperbacks Gruber’s pedals between the condoms and the first-aid kit stuffings. The cover reads, “The Chest from The West” and features a heavily airbrushed model in a cowboy hat and unbuttoned flannel shirt.

“What am I looking at?” Herc asks.

“Get this too. I want to read it.”

“Why?”

He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say, Benj doesn’t really want to be present for it. He quickly scans the book and throws it cover-side-down into the bag. Let them work this one out on their own, hopefully somewhere else.

“Your total’s $29.75” He spins around to shake the radio, which is somehow now back on and blaring louder. When he turns back, the register is telling him everything’s been bought and paid for. Guy must be lightning quick with a credit card, he thinks.

“Huh. Guess you’re all set, man-- sir.” He hands them their bags. “Have fun at your family thing.”

He flashes the big guy a thumbs up. He looks strangely staggered by the gesture and replies haltingly, “Thank you. You also, have fun.”

“Come on, sibs,” the more energetic one chirps. “Cass? Cass, come on.” He drags his sister away from the cat, who’s just starting to warm up to her. “That’s you, remember? Let’s go.”

They don’t get any gas from the pumps outside. Benj is pretty sure he saw the testy looking one with the ponytail shoplift a bottle of off-brand cola, but he isn’t paid nearly enough to care. At least after they’re gone the radio starts working normally again.

Hercules drives, though it’s not so much driving as sitting in the driver’s seat and telling the van to go. Earth machines are simplistic and easy to manipulate. Slow though. Cass is riding “shotgun”, as is apparently customary for the navigator. Andromeda, Zeta, and Camelopardalis share the backseat, where the formermost is rehashing the same tired debate with the latter.

“We need to work out a better earth name for you,” he insists. “Myself, I’ve been doing some research and I’m thinking about going by ‘Andy’ from now on.”

“I’m not calling you that,” says Zeta.

Camelopardalis asks, “What’s wrong with the name I have?”

“It is a bit long,” Cassiopeia agrees. “A shorter one would help you fit in better.”

“Speaking of fitting in, something else has been bothering me. What’s your gender supposed to be?”

“My what?”

“You know, your gender. We all picked one.”

“It’s almost like you didn’t read the brief,” Zeta says, instigator that she is.

“It’s almost like none of you read the brief, that I took the time to write specifically to help you all acclimate to earth culture.”

“Zeta, don’t upset Cass,” Herc scolds.

“I’m not upset.” She turns in her seat to stare pointedly out the window. There isn’t much to look at, just miles upon miles of rolling desert interrupted by the occasional billboard or truck stop, all crawling by at a snail’s pace compared to the sort of travel they’re used to. Not that she’d recognize the analogy. She misses the cat.

Camelopardalis fiddles with their seatbelt. “Which one are you again?”

“I’m a ‘man’,” Andromeda recites. “Earth men are known for their physical prowess and carnivorous diet, they live in cave environments, and often congregate in packs called ‘fraternities’.” He waves the gas-station novel in the air. “I’m going to research their habits and perfect my persona. By the time I’m done with this I’ll practically be a local.”

“I don’t know… Zeta, what made you decide to be the other one?”

“Flipped a coin.”

“Women,” Cass informs them. “Can be most commonly identified by their long hair, fastidious hygiene habits, the use of traditional face paints to accentuate the eyes and lips, and by fleshy protrusions of the upper torso. Any of these traits can indicate an earth woman, though none are necessarily required.”

They throw up their hands. “How is that helpful at all then! Zeta?”

“What do you want me to do about it? I didn’t invent them. Hercules, are you sure these ‘snacks’ are safe to eat? They have a strange texture.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” He punctuates the point by reaching back and grabbing a cream-filled cupcake off the pile. He tears the plastic with his teeth and eats half of it in a single bite. He barely tastes the thing, but he’s hoping if his siblings follow his lead their mouths will be too full to whine at him.

“Yeah, Zeta, don’t be a bitch.” Andromeda opens a pack of mini donuts, albeit more gingerly, and pops one into his mouth.

Cass whips her head around. “Where did you learn that word?”

He holds open the paperback and points to a page.

Austin hesitated. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. What if I fall?”

Derek chuckled manfully. “Don’t be a bitch, city boy,” he teased. Then he placed his large, calloused hand upon the small of Austin’s back. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever let you fall.”

The navigator leans over the center console and tries to snatch the book away but he dodges swiftly, clutching it to his chest.

“That’s foul language, Andromeda Alpheratz.”

“Earthers use this kind of speech with each other all the time. It’s a sign of familiarity and affection. You guys need to be less formal if you want to blend in.”

“If it’s meant to be an insult,” Camelopardalis wonders. “Why would they use it to convey affection.”

“Because they’re brutish, unevolved lifeforms,” Zeta sneers. “‘Blend in, blend in’. The rest of you can worry about blending in with the apes. I’m only doing this for Perseus.”

“We’re all doing this for Percy,” Hercules says in a chastising voice that makes even Zeta shrink down in her seat. “So can we please agree to be somewhat civil and not make this trip more painful than it needs to be?”

There’s a murmur of general agreement and peace is restored, however temporarily. Camelopardalis clears their throat.

“I still don’t really understand why we couldn’t land directly at Perseus Nine’s coordinates.”

Cass huffs, blowing a dark curl out of her face. “For the last time, Percy specifically requested we partake in the human ritual of the ‘road-trip’ for this last portion of our journey. It’s the same route he traveled the first time he came to earth, and apparently holds some sort of sentimental significance. It’s important to him we experience the same pilgrimage. For some reason.”

She adds the last part under her breath, knowing full well the others will still hear her. They can hear one another when separated by countless miles of empty space, their voices resonating from star to star, clear as a bell. Compared to that, the close proximity of a rented minivan is stifling. There’s an uncomfortable intimacy to it, these crudely assembled physical forms pressed together, bloated and heavy with all the trappings of humanity. Sweat and road dust and gravity cling to Cass like an over-warm coat and she longs for the cool estrangement that comes so easily in the void of space. It’s tough to be a star-dweller away from her star.

“The reasons don’t matter,” Herc declares, and his word is as good as law here. He is the eldest of them, though the concept of seniority is abstracted somewhat by the literal millennia they’ve all lived through.

Percy is the baby, as well as the black sheep of the family, so to speak. (His actual moniker among their kinfolk roughly translates to “the dissonant note”, a scathing insult for those who knew what it meant.) Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon.

“At least we can check one more stop off the list,” Zeta quips. “What’s next?”

Cass checks her itinerary. “We are to visit one national historic landmark, one ‘tourist trap’-- whatever that means-- followed by a stop at ‘Diane’s Diner’, home of the world’s best pie. After that, we can head straight to the meet-up location.” She glances at the clock on the dashboard. “We’re a little behind schedule but we should make it right on time as long as there are no unexpected delays.”

An hour and a half of driving later, Andromeda throws up corn chips and mini donuts all over the back of Herc’s seat.

They pull over on the side of the road. The desert sand is just beginning to give way to sparse yellow grass, brittle from the sun. Herc steadies Andromeda, looking viscerally displeased as he finishes emptying out his recently manifested stomach.

Camelopardalis frets through the whole episode. “We’ve all been eating the same food, except for Zeta. If it’s poisonous, one of us will be next.”

“It’s not poison, it’s carsickness,” Cass sighs. “Honestly, I’m starting to think none of you even looked at the brief.”

“Zeta, look in the back for something to clean up with.”

“Why me?”

“We’re going to lose so much time…”

“Would you rather hold him?”

Andromeda retches.

“Do you think Percy would care if we skipped a couple stops?”

“Cassiopeia Sigma,” Hercules begins sternly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll figure something out.”

Fortunately they’ve happened to stop within walking distance of something called The Trinity Site, according to the map. Camelopardalis and Cass go ahead to check another stop off the list while Zeta and Herc clean up the van and make sure Andromeda isn’t actually dying. (How embarrassing, to be a quasi-immortal astral being only to perish at the hands of a tainted twinkie.)

They wander from the roadside, following the map and occasional signposts, and shortly find themselves standing in front of an ominous looking stone obelisk with a bronze placard affixed to one side.

Trinity Site: Where the world’s first nuclear device was exploded on July 16th, 1945

There’s more but Cass stops reading. Camelopardalis asks her to explain what the plaque means by nuclear device-- they’re familiar with nuclear power as a concept, fission and fusion, ideas not far departed from the system of energy exchange that sustains their natural bodies in the heart of their stars-- but goes pale when she goes into the relevant applications of said devices.

“Wonderful,” she grumbles to herself as she snaps a few photos of the monument with a disposable camera. “I’m sure Percy will be thrilled.”

“Excuse me.”

The pair turn to see a man in a colorful button-up and khakis and a woman with a day-old sunburn peeling off beneath the straps of her tank top.

“Boy are we happy t’see the two of yous. Couldja take our picture real quick?”

The woman holds out a camera, a significantly more professional piece of equipment than the one Cass is holding.

“Oh, sure,” Cass replies. She’s nervous as she takes it from her hands. She’s never encountered this sub-species of human in her research before, and finds it difficult to parse the woman’s peculiar dialect. Both of them are smiling, but they’re also showing a lot more teeth (and a fair bit of gum) than she thinks is normal. A subtle threat?

Nevertheless, she fumbles with the camera for a moment before managing to take a decent snapshot. The man wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and she slots herself in against his side.

“Ope, wait, let’s do a silly one to send to Marsha and the kids. Were my eyes closed? No? Perfect, you’re a doll. We’ll leave you kids alone now.”

“Sure,” she says again, feeling out of pace.

“My nephew wears his hair like that,” the man says without segway. He’s talking to Camelopardalis, they realize. “It’s very… hip.”

They touch their hair. They hadn’t given it much thought before, might not ever have if he hadn’t pointed it out. It’s nice, they think.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

His expression flinches into a puzzled frown. Cass smacks their arm.

“Sir! Thank you, sir.”

After they’ve walked away Cass gives him another jab for good measure.

“His hair was longer than the other one’s,” they complain. “And the chest was sort of fleshy. How was I supposed to know?”

“We’re lucky you didn’t cause an incident. Earthers carry weapons in this part of the world.”

They rub their arm. “I don’t know, they seemed nice.”

Still they give a fleeting glance at the plaque behind them and argue no more.

They return to the van, now blessedly puke-free. Andromeda is looking better too. They all pile in and almost immediately Camelopardalis misses the freedom of being able to move without touching somebody. It may be their imagination, but the car seems to be moving slower than ever.

“How was it?” Zeta asks, despite her obvious disinterest.

“Uninspiring,” is Cass’ reply.

The other nods and doesn’t force her to elaborate. “I wish I knew what Perseus intended for us with this… chore list.”

“It’s not important, we just do it.”

Herc is always a steady presence, but even he is starting to sound annoyed with repeating himself. Zeta, of course, can’t leave well enough alone.

“If we just knew what he wanted us to do or say we could do it and go back to how we were before.”

Cass snaps. “Maybe you should stop complaining and make an effort for once.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The car erupts into a heated four-way argument. Only Hercules resolutely abstains from comment, though his hands tighten into fists on the steering wheel. The fight doesn’t end in resolution so much as exhaustion. Everyone’s too miserable to keep hurling accusations and insults for the next hundred miles, and at length they lapse back into tense silence.

Zeta rests her head against the window, taking the arythmic rattle into herself, breathing it out in silent, frenetic melodies. She dislikes fighting with her siblings, no matter what they might claim to the contrary. It doesn’t happen often, or didn’t, but things have been different since Percy left home. The littlest star-child had a natural soothing presence to him, one that she’d long taken for granted. Earth is so noisy, she thinks. She strains to listen but she can’t hear a trace of him anywhere.

She tries to imagine what he’d say, if he were here.

“What are we even doing?”

Probably not that, but she already has everyone’s attention now so she figures she might as well keep going.

“I mean, we’re still behind schedule, we can’t stop bickering, Andromeda can’t even eat right apparently, and I’m pretty sure half of us didn’t even look at Cassiopeia’s brief.”

“Are you getting to a point?” Cass asks irritably.

“I’m just saying we’re all… bitches.”

“Zeta!”

“Get comfortable with it! We’re all bad at this. Me, you, all of us. So can we just stop blaming each other and have a truce in the interest of getting this over with?”

Cass opens her mouth, then lets it fall shut, sinking back into her seat. For a moment it seems they’re heading for another long awkward silence, when Andromeda sits up and points out the window with a sudden urgency.

“Look!”

Herc slows down and they see a billboard lit up in eerie green neon light, directing them to the next off-ramp.

Must see attraction! Visit the one of a kind Ancient Aliens Exhibit!

The star-folk look at one another.

“Is this what they call a tourist trap?”

“It seems likely.”

Andromeda is glowing-- in a very literal sense-- with excitement. “It’s an exhibit about us.”

“‘Ancient’? Speak for yourself, I’m still only in my six-thousands.”

Needless to say, they do stop at the roadside museum. Cass takes pictures aplenty and, to her surprise, actually enjoys it. Andromeda is disappointed to find there isn’t actually a display dedicated to their kind. Instead there are a lot of grainy photos of some squat, bug-eyed species called “greys” and diagrams of the Egyptian pyramids for some reason. He gets over it by the time they get to the gift shop.

By unanimous decision, they do not buy anymore snacks, though Zeta’s eye does linger on a cooler in the corner advertising “the ice cream of the future!”. Herc does however buy a number of souvenirs. (Rather, he convinces the automated register to record a purchase that didn’t technically take place, and bumps up the number in the bank account of one very nice tour guide while he’s at it.)

They leave with a mood ring, a handful of polished stones in a small velvet bag, a “gravity defying” purple yo-yo shaped like a UFO, and Camelopardalis sheepishly lays claim to a friendly looking martian figurine with bendable limbs. Overall, spirits are much higher by the time they make it back to the van.

“Hercules,” his meek younger sibling ventures. “Could I try driving? I’ve been curious about it.”

Feeling generous and more than a little tired of staring out at the road for hours at a time, he agrees. He shows Camelopardalis the basics and makes sure they know how not to veer off the road or into other drivers and then he climbs into the middle backseat and stretches out his arms so the siblings on either side of him can tuck in against him and rest. Eventually even the diligent navigator Cassiopeia begins to doze. It’s been a long day and none of them are quite accustomed to the burden of having earthbound bodies.

When Andromeda wakes up the first thing he registers is that it’s getting dark, the day reduced to a slim red band sinking over the horizon. The second thing is the yelling.

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I thought I could read the map myself--”

“What about you, navigator? What were you doing?”

“--didn’t mean to--”

“As if you’re one to talk! I can’t believe--”

“--and you were the one who--”

“Shut up!”

Hercules’ normally subdued baritone booms through the van. The windshield wipers begin swinging as if in indignation, while the passengers wince and cover their ears. Andromeda can’t remember a time when his brother’s frequency had felt so violent. The shivering resonance it leaves behind makes his teeth ache.

There’s a pregnant pause, then Cass slams open the door and begins to pace.

“Shit!” she yells at the empty air. They’re parked in a field somewhere, no sign of life save for the buzzing of insects and the rumble of a train somewhere off in the distance. Cass kicks at the ground and screams again. “Shit fuck bitch hell! We are so fucking lost! And so fucking late!”

Andromeda winces again and gets out to try and calm her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It is not! We’re probably missing the ceremony right now. Percy will never forgive me for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault…”

“I’m supposed to be the navigator!”

“Well, yes, but…” The words come out strangled. He touches his chest and realizes he’s breathing rapidly. His eyes are beginning to water as well. “I should’ve… I didn’t…”

Zeta hurries over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick again?”

Without warning he doubles over and begins bawling.

“Hercules, do something! Something’s wrong with him!”

“Don’t… don’t… don’t…” he gasps and stammers.

Herc clutches his brother. “Don’t what? Talk to me.”

“Don’t fight,” he finally chokes out. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Percy,” he sniffles miserably. “He doesn’t care about us anymore. He has earth now, and all his new earth friends, and we can’t even do this one thing for him. It’s my fault. I knew he hated when I called him a dissonant note and made fun of his earth music but I did it anyway. Now he probably hates me and all of us and this whole thing has been for nothing.”

The eldest braces his arms on Andromeda’s slumped shoulders. “Percy doesn’t hate us. He invited us here because he wanted to see us.”

“Herc’s right, Andromeda. Percy doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone.”

“It’s not easy, but he chose this. He chose earth. We have to respect that.”

Zeta grumbles, “And just what is so special about this stupid planet anyway?”

“It has cats,” Cassiopeia says quietly. Her sister glares but she stays firm. “Well it does. And… people.”

“Strange, silly earth people,” Camelopardalis adds, nervously fussing with their hair. “Confusing and contradictory and fascinating.”

“People who hurt each other for no good reason.”

“People who are kind for no good reason too.”

Andromeda wipes phosphorous tears from his eyes and takes out the rumpled gas-station paperback. “In this book Austin leaves his job as a big city lawyer to follow the cowboy he’s in love with.”

“You think Perseus traveled to earth for cowboy love?”

“It’s a possibility!”

Cass scoffs. “I honestly don’t think he was thinking that far ahead. You know Percy. He probably crash-landed without any plan whatsoever. Or, he probably thought he knew what he was doing, and then when he actually got there he was terrified. And then he probably didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid his siblings would think less of him once they realized he was actually just as clueless about earth stuff as they were. That would probably be really, really stressful for him.”

“Are we still talking about Percy?”

She makes a wordless noise of frustration and kicks up another patch of grass.

Andromeda puts an arm around her. “If… Percy was worried about that, I’d tell her-- him! I’d tell him that he shouldn’t be, because there’s nothing he could do that would make us stop believing in him.”

She exhales. “Thanks.”

“I was talking about you, Cass,” he whispers. “It’s you I believe in.”

“Thank you, I got that.”

“I just… miss him, I guess.”

Herc hums in agreement. “Barely a millennium old and he’s already grown up and gone completely terrestrial. This past century has been the longest of my existence.”

“Hercules, it’s only been ten years.”

That news causes him to make such a face that Zeta starts laughing. It’s the first time she’s so much as cracked a smile the entire trip.

“So… what do we do now?” Camelopardalis asks.

After a moment, Cass grabs the map off the dashboard and holds it open.

“A little more light please?”

They step up behind her and hold a glowing hand over the paper. Her brow creases in concentration.

“Alright, I think we’re somewhere around here,” She gestures. “And we need to be here. There’s no way we’re going to show up on time, but we can still show up. We owe him that much.”

They get in their seats, Herc back at the helm, and begin trying to reclaim the distance they lost with the unplanned detour. Cass breathes a sigh of relief when road signs start to reappear. A driver honks at them as they pick up speed and Herc steers closer and makes their radio start playing at top volume. Zeta opens the window and a cool night breeze tickles her skin. The stars are bright and beautiful above them, and looking up, suddenly home doesn’t feel so far away.

All at once they slow to a near stop.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”

“Traffic,” Herc says like it’s a curse. “Looks like there was an accident.”

“Take this exit,” Cass commands. “We can cut through the next town and get ahead of it.”

So he does and soon they find themselves driving through the quiet streets of Kismet, Nevada. That is, quiet until Zeta catches sight of something out the window and yells, “Pull over!”

“What! What is it now!”

She points, and they see. The sign ahead reads, “Diane’s Diner: Home of the World’s Best Pie”. They pull in so fast they nearly end up colliding with a stout aproned woman who’s pushing a teetering hand cart across the lot.

“What do you maniacs think you’re doing?” she demands as they clambour out of the van.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Cass says in a rush. “It is just very important to my siblings and I that we get to this establishment.”

The woman huffs. “You’re a mite late then, I’m afraid. We’re closing up early tonight. Got a big catering order I have to deliver.”

Herc asks, “Are you Diane, of the diner?”

She laughs. “Close. I’m Maddie Finkle of the diner. Diane’s my mother’s name. It’s a family business. But what brings you folks here looking for Diane at this time of night? I don’t think I’ve seen your faces around town before, and I always remember a customer.”

“Do you remember a customer named Percy? It would’ve been years ago, but this place was very important to him. He’s our brother.”

Maddie’s eyes light up. “Why didn’t you say so! Of course I know Percy. And if you rowdy lot are his siblings, then I’ve got a message for you.”

“A message?” Percy hadn’t said anything to them about a message. Maybe this was his way of ensuring they actually made it to the last stop on his list.

“Well, sort of. Come, come, help me load up all this grub and I’ll tell you everything.”

Herc and Zeta go to either side of her and help push the wobbly cart to a truck with the diner’s logo emblazoned on the side. As they load the boxes, Maddie speaks.

“I first met your Percy when I was just a waitress, mama still working the kitchen. One day this kid walks in, looking as lost as can be, comes straight up to the counter and tells me he’s just fallen from outer space and could use some assistance.” She barks a laugh. “I didn’t go for the whole alien thing but that second part was a lot more believable. He looked a mess. I asked if he needed something to eat but he just said he needed a safe place to rest for a moment. He’d been on his feet all day, walking and hitchhiking his way clear across the desert.

“Of course I wanted to know where he was going that was so important, but he said he didn’t know for sure yet. Said he was following a melody, a song he’d heard from very far away that had drawn him to this place. I told him I couldn’t help him there. The only music we had in the diner was this old stereo system mama had put in when she first opened the place and it was long broken. Mama was too sentimental to get rid of the old thing and the repairman couldn’t do anything for it so broken it stayed.

“He asked me to show him so I did, figuring it couldn’t hurt anything. Then that kid walked up to the busted speaker and just like that it started playing again like it was new. I told him, ‘For that, I owe you more than a place to rest your legs. Stay in town for a while, let us put you up and get you back on your feet, or at least let me drive you to the train station so you can get where you’re going.’ But he refused, and before long he was gone again.

“Then, not a couple days later, spaceboy comes back traveling with this other kid, heading in the opposite direction. I ask him what happened and he says he was going one way but he changed his mind and turned around. He leans in like he’s sharing a great big secret, like we’ve been friends all our lives, and says, ‘I found it, Maddie. I found the song.’ Weirdest kid I’ve ever met! But they make a cute couple, him and that boy, and they’re some of my best customers to this day.”

They finish packing up the truck, Maddie leaning leisurely against the fender as she reminisces. Herc frowns, confused.

“Was that the message?”

“Yup.” She pops the P. “He just told me to tell you the story. Not sure why. I mean, it’s a good story, I think. But you already know all about it, right? You’re his family after all.”

“No, he never told us,” he admits softly.

“Huh. Weird. But then, he’s kind of a weird kid, yeah? I always wondered, is it all you aliens who talk in riddles like that, or just him?”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe his claims.”

“I didn’t the first time, but if your Percy’s one thing it’s… Perc-istent.” When no one laughs, she pushes onward. “Well, that’s all of it. We’d better get a move on, huh?”

“‘We’?”

“Sure, aren’t you folks on your way to Percy’s place too? I figured you’d be staying over, and I gotta get everything set up for the wedding tomorrow.”

A palpable shock ripples through the star-folk. “Tomorrow?”

“‘Course, what did you think all this was for?” She pats the truck. “I wanted to get everything ready ahead of time so we’re good to go in the morning. It’s not easy being the caterer and providing my lovely self as a guest on the same day, but I couldn’t let those sweet boys down.”

Andromeda slumps over, leaning on Herc for support. “Percy told us the wedding was tonight.”

The chef raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s been having a little fun with you. Nah, they’re doing some sort of get-together tonight since neither one of the bachelors wanted a bachelor party, but the actual wedding ceremony’s definitely not until tomorrow.”

“I’m going to end him,” Cass mutters under her breath.

“Hurry up now,” she says. “I’m sure the groom-to-be’s expecting you.”

The five follow Maddie’s truck away from the main drags, away from the buildings, the scenery becoming gradually greener as the road turns from asphalt to gravel. At last they find themselves pulling up in front of the house that Percy has come to call home. It’s a raised ranch, flanked by evergreens and patchwork plots of small white and yellow flowers that Percy’s fiance must have planted, and a tower of plastic chairs and tables covered by a tarp.

It’s a nice place, large and somewhat secluded, set apart from the noise of traffic or threat of nosy human neighbors. Percy’s sensitive to loud noise and, after all, still an alien living in secret amongst humanity. Yet as they get out and follow the caterer where she’s cutting around back through the garden, they’re struck by the sounds of laughter and music and lively chatter.

A group of earthers are gathered on the patio, smiling faces lit by a string of twinkling lights. A man with a guitar strums along with the music coming from inside.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Andromeda whispers.

“You think there’s a second Perseus Nine about to be married in this town?” Cass shoots back.

Zeta hisses, “Quiet, I can hear him.”

To his surprise, Herc can too. Above the noise, laced into everything he touches, there is a resonance, his baby brother’s unique personal frequency. To describe it as sound alone would perhaps be inaccurate; it’s a vibration, an echo. Percy is everywhere in this place: his whispers and his shouts, his twinkling laugh, but also the part of him that no human being can detect, the part of him that is still, and will always be, of the stars.

He must sense them too, because in that moment he appears standing in the doorway, bathed in its yellow light. His face breaks out in a glowing grin and he runs to greet them, bolting like a comet being pulled into his siblings’ orbit.

“You made it!” he exclaims.

Zeta snorts and allows him to throw his arms around her. “No thanks to you and your list of demands.”

“You brat,” Cass accuses. “You told us the ceremony was tonight.”

Percy tilts his head to look at her, his expression not half as guilty as it should be. For a moment she reels at the sight of him; the body he’s constructed for himself has aged since the last time they crossed paths. It’s subtle, the way his dimples have deepened into true laugh lines, and his hair has grown ever longer, though it also isn’t as tangled as she remembers. He is still himself, underneath, the light of his true being faintly visible beneath the skin.

“I was worried if I told you the real date you wouldn’t make it in time. You’re not used to traveling the human way. It can be messy.”

She grimaces. “You’re not wrong.”

“You’re actually here way earlier than I thought you’d be.” His smile falters, only slightly. “This is… everyone?”

Herc swallows. “The others…” he begins, but quickly finds he doesn’t have the words that should follow.

“Well, it’s not like I had enough chairs for all two-hundred-ninety-seven of them anyway.” He reaches out and squeezes his brothers tightly. “Hercules, Andromeda, It’s so wonderful to see you. Camelopardalis, Cassiopeia, it means so much to me that you came. I know it probably wasn’t easy. Zeta…”

She scoffs. “The only hard part was putting up with these bitches.”

Hercules interjects, “We shouldn’t keep you from your party. Go on, I need to get some things from the van.”

“You didn’t bring presents, did you?”

“It’s customary for weddings, is it not?”

Percy grins. “You’re becoming a real expert on earth customs.”

He shrugs and looks at Cass. “I just read the brief.”

Percy invites his family in, along with Maddie, who is perfectly tickled by the siblings’ awkward affection. After helping her bring in the food, Percy beckons over the man with the guitar.

“Adam!”

The man looks up. He has a boyish, freckled face and a head of dark curls that spill over his brow. He sets down the instrument and comes to slot himself against Percy’s side, thoughtlessly, as if that was always where he was meant to be.

“I’d like to formally introduce you to my fiance, Adam. And Adam, this is my family.”

His smile broadens. “Hey, great to finally really meet you guys. Percy talks about you all the time. Did you have a long trip?”

They look at one another for a moment until finally Herc shrugs and says, “Only about twenty-five trillion miles, give or take.”

The happy couple linger for a moment longer, sharing stories and talking about honeymoon plans. Adam is especially thrilled when Andromeda and Zeta begin to co-narrate an embarrassing tale from Percy’s childhood in the Alpha Persei Cluster. Eventually though the pair wander off together, leaving the star-folk to their most harrowing challenge yet: mingling.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Camelopardalis.”

The guest, one of the couple’s mutual friends, goes a bit bug-eyed. “Wow, okay, that’s really cool. Kind of a mouthful though. Got a nickname?”

“Nick… name?”

“Like, something that your friends call you for short. My friends call me Dee, but my highschool nickname was Dent.” They point to a scar on the side of their head, just above their left ear. Their fair hair is buzzed short, making it easy to see. “Long story. What if for now I called you ‘Cam’?”

They consider it. “I think I’d like that.”

“Cool, nice to meet you, Cam.”

“Nice to meet you, Dee.” They hesitate. “Would you say you’re a man or a woman?”

Dee frowns.

“Nevermind! I’m so sorry, I just don’t understand the earth gender binary at all. Everything about it just seems so arbitrary and senseless.”

Oddly enough, their new friend perks back up at this.

“Honestly, same,” they laugh.

Andromeda joins shortly, having struck up a conversation with Dee’s partner who is deeply intrigued by his review of “The Chest from The West”. The three of them spend a while swapping book recommendations. Meanwhile, Zeta gets hit on by a slightly intoxicated young woman with an undercut and an eyebrow ring, although the star-dweller vastly misinterprets her none-too-subtle questioning about alien biology. Cass meets Adam and Percy’s pet dog, Chowder, and deems him as good a companion as the convenience store cat.

Herc catches Percy alone in the kitchen and the two have a long overdue talk. It’s clumsy but earnest, and when Herc mumbles something out about possible future family visits, Percy throws himself into his brother with such vigor that he momentarily forgets about gravity and starts to float off the ground.

“I’m sorry too, by the way, for the whole thing with the list,” he sighs. “It probably seems pretty stupid, I just kind of hoped I could get you to see this world the way I see it. Full of life and love and adventure.”

“And music,” he finishes, catching the way his gaze flits back to the patio. To Adam, singing softly and dancing with one of their friends.

He nods. “I thought maybe then you’d understand why this is so important to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see earth the way you do,” Hercules confesses. “But I don’t think it was stupid of you to try either, and I don’t think it was for nothing.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the mood ring. The friendly prismatic face of a cartoon alien glints up at him. Perseus takes the gift with an understanding chuckle and slips it onto his pinky finger.

“No, not for nothing.”

Tomorrow, there will be a wedding. Percy and Adam will stand in front of their friends and family and exchange their vows. Adam’s mother will complain about them not booking a proper venue for just short of an annoying amount of time, Maddie will bring out a ridiculously tall tier cake that will taste almost as good as one of her mother’s pies, and for once Percy will not be the worst one on the dance floor.

Tomorrow, there will be a bright silver band around Percy’s fourth finger, neighbored by a smaller ring in the shape of an inside joke, and with all the weight of a promise.

#aliens #original fiction #writeblr #short story #original writing #road trip #me? posting my writing again? its more likely than u think #lgbt #my writing

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thefoodwiththedood · 3 years

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"Good Guys"

Here's another story from a bit ago, this time about Hatou and Eobea going on a diplomatic mission to Darkon III, and Hatou making a new friend! This is sort of a continuation of my stories "Strategy" and "Rising Phoenix," so for more context, you could read those first. Either way, let me know what y'all think of this!

Characters: Hatou Koros, Princess Eobea Xovrada, Oesta Varg, Chieftain Haeris Varg & Khosti Varg (who belong to @kaminoanbat)

Setting: 21 BBY, Darkon III

Word Count: ~2,300

“Must we do this?” Eobea whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the trumpets announcing her arrival. Her own procession was rather small, compared to the reception she’d been given: All around the walled courtyard of the palatial fortress where they’d landed, Mandalorian warriors stood at attention, their freshly-polished armor gleaming in the sun. At the end of the courtyard opposite her stood two more Mandos, an adult and a child, with their helmets at their sides and their own entourage at their backs. “I thought visits like this were reserved for planets with some…value to us”

Before Hatou answered, he held out his elbow, and her mechanical forearm hooked itself in the crook of it. “We’re here to encourage the people that Iridonia is with them, same as always,” he said as the two of them walked, “the Darkonan clans are good people, and even better warriors—if we can convince Clan Varg to join forces with us, the other clans will follow, and they could help us defend the other colonies from Separatist attacks''

“I can always rely on you to be optimistic, can’t I,” Eobea smiled,but the disdain was still palpable in her voice. “Maybe it’s just my ancestors talking—the ones who were murdered when the Mandalorians occupied Iridonia, you remember them—but I’m not so quick to trust. As I far as I know, Darkon III might just be the final holdout of those same invaders"

Thankfully, Eobea had said the last part just before coming into earshot of the Darkonan chieftain ahead of them. “Have faith, Princess,” Hatou reassured her, choosing his words carefully now that he could be heard, “It’s possible we may find some life-long allies today”

At the end of their long walk, Hatou and Eobea came face-to-face with a tall, middle-aged Zabrak clad in regal yet battle-worn armor. “It is an honor,” he began in accented Basic, his voice a strong, baritone rumble, “to welcome you to Darkon III, Princess Eobea. I am Haeris Varg of Clan Varg, Chieftain of the Darkonan Clans, and,” he paused only briefly, as he and the child at his side bowed respectfully, “your humble servant for as long as we may host you”

Eobea gave one final look to Hatou, before clearing her throat and replying. “You are very kind, Chieftain. I look forward to my stay here,” she lied, “and I look forward to discussing business—my father has assured me that you will be most indispensable allies''

“We always endeavor to be,” Haeris smiled—it could have been genuine enthusiasm behind that smile, or it could be as much of a put-on as Eobea’s. Neither she nor Hatou knew him well enough to tell, but they both wondered about it. “Ah, but in the meantime, allow me to introduce my family; this is my son, Khosti,” he swept an arm over the child at his side, and Khosti bowed once again. The boy was awfully mechanical in his movements, and he didn’t dare make eye contact with the Princess—clearly, he’d rehearsed this, or his father had made him. “And,” Haeris sighed, “though she’s running fashionably late, there’s also—

A sudden, roaring sound cut Haeris off mid-thought, and everyone in the courtyard looked up to see its source. A lone Mandalorian warrior rocketed across the sky, only to then circle back and finally stop just above Hatou, Eobea, and the Chieftain. Hovering in the air for only a second longer, she cut the engine in her rocket pack, falling several feet and hitting the ground on one knee. She rose to her feet slowly, removing her helmet and revealing the big, toothy grin she’d rode in with. “Hey, dad,” she spoke, tucking her helmet under her arm as she turned to face the Chieftain, “Sorry I was out, thought I’d take the scenic route back here. What’s…” she trailed off, apparently just noticing Hatou, Eobea, and the amount of people there in the courtyard with them. She studied Eobea in particular, her smile fading as she looked her up and down. “What’s with the Iridonians?”

“Oesta, please,” Haeris seethed, calling her attention back to him. He gave her a single, stern look, and she scowled back at him before relenting and taking her place at his right side. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Oesta,” Haeris said again, this time introducing her to Hatou and Eobea, “is my eldest daughter, and will one day inherit my throne—if she can ever learn how a leader ought to act” Oesta rolled her eyes in response, before continuing to silently size up the Princess and her bodyguard.

If the mere prospect of working with Mandalorians wasn’t enough to sour Eobea’s view of this planet, the sheer disrespect from the Chieftain’s daughter might be. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Eobea lied again, trying and failing to mask her feelings, smiling so fleetingly she was bordering on curtness.

“Perhaps,” Hatou chimed in, rescuing Eobea preemptively from what surely would have been a long, uncomfortable silence, “I should take the Princess to her accommodations—allow us time to settle in, before our negotiations begin” He surreptitiously took her hand, and he could feel her relax slightly as their fingers interwove.

Haeris cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, please do—if you’d follow me inside, someone will show you to your rooms”

Hatou nodded, once again hooking Eobea’s elbow in his. The two of them followed the trio of Vargs and their entourage as they turned towards the large fortress, and Hatou almost caught Oesta studying him over her shoulder as they walked inside.

. . .

Hours later, Hatou found himself quietly slipping outside, sighing in relief as the brisk evening air hit his face. Even better than the air was the peace and quiet; to everyone’s surprise, Eobea’s opinions on the Darkonans began to sweeten over the course of the evening, and now she was happily—not to mention drunkenly, and loudly—wining-and-dining with the Vargs’ most senior clansmen. Hatou himself couldn’t partake, of course. His duties to the princess came first, and he needed to keep his wits about him. So, here he stood: a balcony overlooking the sea, lit by the light of Darkon III’s moons, leaning back against a railing and watching his charge through the giant glass door. She was having fun, clearly. That much made him happy.

“Hey” a voice suddenly spoke up to Hatou’s right, and he jumped in shock. He instinctively reached for his sword, but, upon turning to see the voice’s owner, he relaxed. It was just the Chieftain’s daughter—Oesta, if he remembered right—resting on the railing in the opposite corner of the balcony, looking at him with a sort of half-smile. Two drinks, one full and one half-full, were sitting on the wall at her side, evidently brought out from inside some time ago. “This kinda party ain’t your speed, huh?”

Hatou took a breath before answering, removing his helmet and holding it at his side. “No, not exactly,” he admitted, “And you?”

She smiled. “Not tonight. Kinda dreading having to talk to my dad after this morning, in the courtyard. Here, wanna drink? I was gonna have both myself but, now that you’re here,” she slid the full mug towards him, but with a small wave of his hand he refused it. “Yeah,” she continued, “Best to let him get all boozed up to soften that blow, y’know how dads are”

“Actually, I don’t,” he responded, “we’re very close, my father and I, we almost never fight”

Oesta raised an eyebrow, and her smile faded slightly. “Lucky you”

“I…” Hatou stuttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Must be nice,” she continued, interrupting him, “to be born into a thriving empire, to a parent who likes you just how you are, and to get to serve your planet’s royalty, that’s—”

“Iridia” Hatou interjected, interrupting her in turn. “I’m from Iridia, not Iridonia”

“...Oh” Oesta paused for a moment, silently retracting most of her prejudgements. “What’s the difference?”

“Iridia’s its own planet, a former colony just like Darkon,” Hatou said, his tone softening. In spite of his previous reservations, he decided to take the drink she’d offered him after all, and he paused to take a sip. “It’s beautiful, but not in the same ways as Iridonia. It has natural beauty, I guess. You go there, and it just feels warm and welcoming, like the planet itself wants to nurture you and take care of you. It’s motherly, in a way”

“Motherly…” Oesta replied, the word lingering on her lips a little longer than she’d meant it to. “It sounds nice. But then, if you��re from a colony, how’d you end up with...y’know…” she gestured towards the glass door, and the half-in-the-bag Princess seated inside.

Hatou smiled, unabashedly proud of what he was about to say. “Emperor Stotrau saw great potential in me, he said so himself. He needed a bodyguard for his daughter, and I was the best candidate, from Iridonia or otherwise. It’s a great honor”

“I’ll bet,” she said, her lips curling into a wry smile. “So, does he know you’re banging his daughter yet?”

Hatou, who was in the middle of taking another swig, nearly choked. Oesta tried and failed to stifle a laugh as he coughed, and it was several seconds before he even tried to speak. “I...we...well, see...who told you?”

“Well you did, just now” Oesta chuckled, earning a groan from Hatou as he realized his mistake. “I saw you two out in the courtyard, the way you calmed her down. Seems like she trusts you”

With a sigh, Hatou shook his head and smiled. No use denying it now. “The princess...Eobea...we were friends long before we ever, well...I don’t know, it just kind of happened” He felt himself blushing now, and moreso, he felt Oesta’s gaze on him. He turned away, just to spare himself a little embarrassment.

“No need to justify it, man, I get it—it’s your job to protect her 'round the clock, you two’re bound to get close like that,” Oesta smiled, taking another sip herself, “She’s cute, too. Total catch”

“It’s more than just physical” Hatou hadn’t quite meant to say that, but he couldn’t help justifying himself here. This was a talk he’d rehearsed many times, in preparation for the day when someone found out, when someone would question how a relationship between an Iridonian princess and a lowly soldier from the Colonies could ever work. Explaining it to a nosy Mandalorian was never in the plan, but oh well. “I mean...she values my company, and I enjoy seeing her happy. Every day I watch the stress she’s put under, the way she’s underestimated and put down, even by those who mean well. But she’s ambitious, smart, driven, more than any of them see. I want to help her succeed. I want to be there for her through good and bad times, and share in her triumphs. I don’t want her to be alone at the top, when she inevitably gets there”

Oesta’s smile faded as she listened, alternatively glancing at him, and through the window at the princess herself. “You’re really devoted to her, huh” she finally said, her tone an equal mixture of intrigue and confusion, with just a pinch of concern. “Does she feel the same way about you? Wanting you to succeed and everything?”

“Yes. Maybe. Well,” Hatou paused, considering the question. “I’ve never talked about this with her, not really. In our private moments, we’re more focused on...well... “

“Just having fun?” Oesta smirked, and in spite of himself Hatou smiled back at her. In the back of his mind, though, he was worried. He found himself mulling over that question in silence for a few moments—does she feel the same way about you? “I hope she does” Oesta spoke up, as if reading his mind. “You seem like you have a lot of love to give. Only fair for you to be with someone who gives it back”

“Yeah?” Hatou found himself looking at Oesta now, even as she was staring down into her drink. No one had said that to him before. Not even Eobea.

“Yeah” she looked up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time that night. “You’re a good guy. The galaxy needs good guys” Their eye contact held for all of five seconds, and when those five seconds passed, they both got the same feeling: either they looked away right then, or this night was going to take a new, serious, and probably wrong turn. They chose the former.

After another brief silence, spent largely with the two of them feigning great interest in opposite sides of the ocean view, Hatou regained his composure a little. “Thank you,” he finally said, “You’re very kind” Oesta responded with a barely audible mumble, which could have been anything from ‘You’re welcome’ to ‘Yeah, whatever’ to simply ‘mhm’, but whose sentiment was clear enough. Another, much longer silence followed, before Hatou finally downed the rest of his drink, sighed, and re-donned his helmet. “I...should probably get back inside, see how the princess is doing”

“Yeah...yeah, sure” Oesta muttered, re-donning her own helmet, mostly just as something to do. “Nice meeting you. Good luck with your lady, Sir...uh…”

“Hatou,” he finished. “Hatou Koros. And you’re—”

“Oesta...yeah” she said, the smile evident in her tone despite being hidden behind her helmet. Hatou had heard her name before, in the courtyard, but only from her father and only to scold her. Now, from her, the name sounded as it was meant to: strong, stable, and really kind of pretty. Even as Hatou was thinking this, Oesta was climbing up onto the balcony’s wall—and before he even registered that. she was hovering in the air with her jet pack. “See you around, Hatou” she said, rocketing away with the cold, seaborne wind. He watched her go, waving halfheartedly before sighing, standing up straight, and rejoining the party.

#star wars #star wars oc #zabrak #oc fanfic #ZLF #oc: Hatou Koros #oc: empress eobea xovrada #oc: Oesta Varg-Koros

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