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#I’ll ‘close’ them when I get too many and possibly reopen them later!
shadowofahope · 8 months
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Possibilities
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Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, aggressive alpha tendencies, swearing, near-death experiences, mentions of heat and suppressants
Pairing: Nonidol!Changbin/Nonidol!Minho x Reader
Premise: Omega Primes were rare, being forced to reproduce with other Primes. You never liked the idea of mates, forced or not. A runaway Prime, with two alphas to catch their fall and open up a whole new realm of possibilities.
Author’s notes: Soooo, I'm like secretly/not so secretly obsessed with both of these men right now. When I had originally written this I had no plans to post it, but here we are. Months later with the inability to let it go. I hope you enjoy it regardless! This was definitely written purely for me and my soulmate @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue to drool over💜
Word count: 8.8K
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“Chan when I say, hold your breath grab Felix and run. Don’t stop until you have Felix safe.” Chan nods to you, he might now know exactly what your plan was but he knew as well as you did that you both had to get Felix out of there. 
“What are you thinking y/n? We can’t leave you here.” Felix huffs, his breath getting harder to release from his lungs. Chan holds him up, arm under his shoulder keeping him close.
“I’ll be fine Lixie, I’ll catch up Yea?” You give him a reassuring smile, followed by a wink. Focus still on the hoard of Alphas that had unfortunately followed Felix on his attempt to escape.
“Y/n-“
“Now chan!”
You hear him inhale deeply before he’s holding it, grabbing Felix hand and see them dart forward. Heading towards the exit from the roof.
In an instant you release your pheromones. Inducing your own heat.
All alphas that had followed Felix up to the roof had now turned on you. Now forgetting about the preheat omega.
Releasing a ragged breath, lungs thick with hot air. It’s like you can feel every bone in your body, every inch of your skin triggered by electricity. Your clothes feel itchy against your heated flesh. 
You barely register the door reopening, this time without the receding Alpha and Omega, but in a mere blink 2 new alphas had joined the swarm. You’d roll your eyes if you could. 
Fucking Alphas.
It’s only a matter of time before one of them advances on you, in any attempt to pounce and take you. Take you as the others join in. A shiver of disgust runs down your spine. The saliva in your mouth is feeling too much now. 
You take a step back on sinking legs. Taking a distracted moment to peer behind you. 10 stories, you could make that…well uninjured wasn’t likely but at least you would be away. You’d need at least a few hours to be able to reel in your heat. Your foggy mind reminds you to stay focused on the alphas in front of you, which would normally be your most pressing issue however in your escape-deciding thoughts the two new alphas that have joined late are now directly standing in front of you. 
And they’re snarling in the direction of the swarm. That’s when your muddled senses detect it. Like freshly baked bread on a cold day, with a hint of something sweet. Aired out bed linen left outside on a warm day, something toasted dances within it. The scents fused together, getting stronger and stronger by the second.
Your eyes adjust briefly, Minho and Changbin stand off against the triggered alphas. 
“Well that’s new” You manage to mumble. As you watch them snarl and defend you. If you were in another state, you’d say you were impressed. Maybe your scent was just really repulsive to them? If you could remember, you’d ask later.
You fight through the Omega need to find an Alpha to satiate your rising hunger, pulling out all of your Prime strength you can. If there was ever a time to be thankful for being a prime it would be now. 
Even if the two could fight through the mass, too many people would be hurt.
Your spine straightens, eyes flashing to Prime, voice taken over.
“ALPHA.” Your Prime voice makes everyone halt. The alpha voice might be a terrifying weapon for alphas to use against omegas, but they had no idea what the Prime voice could be capable of. “DOWN.”
Your command is taken instantaneously, the swarm of alphas on the roof all drop to their knees. Their bodies shake with their inability to control themselves. 
“LOWER.” the voice growled from you. On their knees, hands and chest to the roof the alphas went in unisent. 
All except two alphas. They continue to stand vigilant. Which once again, if you remember you’d ask them about that.
You know you can’t hold it for long. Your body almost giving into the full heat you’ve thrown yourself into. 
Speaking of throw, without another thought you feel your control snap. Simultaneously as you throw yourself over the railing plummeting down to the concrete below. 
The last thing you hear is the voices of the two alphas above scream your name, as your feet slam into the ground.
----
“Most primes are protected. Then there’s you, inducing your own heat and then throwing herself off 10 story buildings.” Your specialist doctor chastises as he finishes taking your vitals for the day..
“You’d be bored if I was like regular primes.” You jest. He shakes his head, but doesn’t look at you. It's the same old song and dance with you two.
“If your family-”
“If my family cared, I’d have a legion of guards to protect me. But they don't, so I take care of myself.” You finish for him, he finally looks at you. Eyes pleading as always.
“A broken leg is taking care of yourself?” He gestures towards your very large cast, covering from your foot to your mid thigh.
“I didn’t say I was the best at it, did I?” You give him your best fake sincere smile.
“Fine. But could you atleast think about finding someone to bond with?” His sigh of defeat sends an itch over your skin. “I don’t care if it isn’t an omega, hell it could be an Alpha or even a Beta. But atleast that would be some form of safety net for you.”
You don’t answer. You never do. For as long as you’ve been alive you’ve been told you had to mate with another Omega Prime, keep the family line strong. But you cut ties with your family long ago and couldn’t find it within yourself to feel comfortable with the idea of a mate. 
“I worry about you.” He goes back to packing up his things, keeping his back to you. 
“I know.” It’s all you can manage.
You hear him sigh loudly again as he makes his way around the room, hesitating by the door.
“Hey doc.” You call as his hand is on the door knob. “Thanks.” 
You had a lot to thank him for. Not just this time, but continuing to look after you when you left the Prime courts. He could have easily walked away from all your ridiculous behaviour and you wouldn't have falted him for it, but he chose to push on being your doctor. Helping you in any shape and form you needed. 
“I’ll see you soon.” He smiles at you before opening it. “Hello Felix, are you feeling better?”
“Yes Doctor, a lot better. Is she awake?” You hear the fake light tone from the hallway. 
Ah shit.
“Yes she is.” You look away, you weren’t ready to apologize for what you did. You did what you thought was right. 
You listen as he enters. Shuffling as the door closes.Theres a moment of silence before he speaks.
“You said you’d catch up.” Felix sniffles from the end of your hospital bed, you look at him. 
“And I did.” You try to lighten.
“A broken leg wasn’t part of the deal.” His angry eyes bore into you. “You could have been really hurt.”
“I know, I’m sorry. But I’m alright.” You motion for him to come closer, shifting slightly to give him enough space to climb on the bed with you. When he snuggles in you feel his body relax. “Just a little sore. Nothing to worry about. I’m just glad you’re safe.” 
----
A few days in the infirmary felt like years with the amount of boredom you were in. The only highlight was Felix joining you when he had some down time. 
Another day of Felix fussing over you, running back and forth to make sure you had food and liquids and you weren’t in pain. Eventually he settled down to eat with you, your conversations turning back to that day.
“I was terrified when the Hyungs passed us on the stairs. Chan tried to yell at them not to, but it was too late.” You can see the crease between his eyebrows as he thought about it. “I really thought they’d become like the others. But now I’m so glad they were there.”
You don’t say anything, your memories coming back are fuzzy. A drowsy flash of two alphas snarling in defense, rage and protectiveness aimed at keeping you safe. 
“I knew Changbin and Minho have really good control over their instincts, but that? I really am impressed.” He chuffs, proud of his older members for keeping themselves in check. 
In a cloud you remember their backs, the muscles tight with Alpha stances on full display. But…. Had you managed to direct your Prime voice to only the lost alphas? In a normal circumstance you wouldn’t second guess it. However, inducing your own heat had made it almost impossible to differentiate one alpha from another. The musky clouds of Alphas making your stomach feel like it was made of cement, your Omega instincts could still smell the two. 
Wait, have you ever really smelled them before? It was them wasn’t it? You don’t go around smelling others for the reason that most scents are slightly nauseating. So with your Prime abilities you forced your Omega instincts down. But did that really mean you just never noticed that you completely ignored others scents?
Glancing over at felix you let out a hesitant sniff, a citrus burst with a dash of caramel. Ok, you could smell him, he smells like he always does. So why did you….
“What do Changmin and Minho smell like?” 
You watch him pause, taking in your words. He looks up at you visibly confused.
“You’ve never noticed?” There sounds like there’s something hidden in his voice, something you aren’t sure what it is.
“I guess not.” You contemplate. “I think I smelt them on the roof, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually paid attention to it before.” 
“Ah, well they have kind of off putting pheromones.” Felix gently tries to explain. 
“Off putting?” That does shock you. What you smelt on the roof was nothing like that.
“Yea, um.” An awkward cough escapes him. “Minho Hyung kind of smells like… pure sugar? Too sugary, sickly sweet? If that makes sense. And Changbin Hyung smells…well…. burnt.”
You think back to the scents from before, letting your senses reimagine them. The comforting pheromones filling your lungs, even now makes your brain go cloudy. Was it them you had smelt then, or was it different Alphas in the throng of chaos. 
“They both take some special suppressants to kind of dampen them, but I try not to breathe too deeply around them. It’s not as uncomfortable as it used to be, but you can still smell it.” 
“Huh….” 
“Was it them?” His question is genuine. “It would make sense for them to be emitting really strong pheromones during all that.”
“I’m not sure.” You shrug, you don’t need the younger omega to worry about anything else right now. “It’s ok, I’ll just sniff them later.”
“Well don’t forget that I warned you.” He laughs off your words. Back to eating the homemade food he brought with him.
A hint of warm baked bread dances on the food. Which seems odd because Felix didn’t bring any.
----
The next day you had another visit from your doctor, he checked your leg and vitals, making sure your heat was down before agreeing to sign your release papers.
“I’m only agreeing to this because if I don’t you’re only going to make it worse for all of us.” He exclaims. You could tell he was tired. He was extremely busy. Being a Beta and scent deaf meant he could treat all subgenders without any issue of pheromones getting in his way. It was one of the reasons he had stayed with you since you were a kid. It’s why he even became a doctor. “However, I have arranged for you to be looked after while you finish healing.”
“Is that really necessary?” You whine, shifting yourself to the side of the bed, carefully bringing both feet to hang down. 
“Yes.” 
Ok, no room for debate clearly. You silently sat there as he collected himself, coming over to stand in front of you. Without realizing it you were already pouting.
“Just….please. Heal first, cause mayhem later.” 
You nod, pout still there. “But who-” 
The door swings open and your eyes sparkle. 
“Ready to go?” Felix asks from the door, the bubbliest smile on his face, a large duffle bag in his hands.
“Really?” The giddiness almost taking over. 
Felix was always so busy with his group, you and he barely had time to spend together. So to have him being the one to take care of you, you are excited to say the least. 
Your doctor rolls his eyes at you, “Let’s get you home.”
----
Having Felix as your temporary caretaker was probably the best 2 weeks you’ve had. 4 more weeks of Felix and you having movie nights, letting yourselves indulge in more Omega oriented activities. By that you meant creating one big nest for the two of you to sleep in together. Your bed wasn’t big enough to create the perfectly comfy nest to happily tingle your omega needs, so you two had chosen to make it in the living room under your large sky light. Pushing your couch back slightly to make room. He had brought all of the bedding and blankets and pillows he owned to yours, and you had instructed him where you kept the thick comfy quilts. 
You hadn’t made a proper nest in a long while, and as comfy as it was, as perfect as it was…something was missing. You just couldn’t explain what, so you didn’t mention anything. It really wasn't necessary. 
Felix did an amazing job helping you in your mundane everyday tasks. Honestly, it had never been so much fun. But a foreboding was approaching; Felix’s heat cycle was shorter than others. So within the next week he would be slipping and he wouldn’t be able to look after you and you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do anything for him. 
He had asked if he could take half of his things and half of yours with him when he was away for that week. Him saying your omega scent would help ease the time. Of course you agreed wholeheartedly. You offered him every piece of fabric that smelt like you that could be moved. 
You had been able to get around with crutches now, but some things were still difficult. Simple things felt derailingly exhausting, without completing things you’d need a 2 hour nap to recuperate. On the day his pre-heat began he let you know that someone would be by to check up on you later in the day. Leaving you with breakfast and a half nest. You had hugged and bid goodbye. Your now vibrant apartment now stark and boring. You sigh to yourself, annoyed with your already darker demeanor. 
Giving up you climb back into the half made nest, too tired to fix it. The scent of citrus barely there. You push away your thoughts as you fall into a light slumber.
Your sleep groggy mind reacts before your body. You feel too heavy to move, sleep threatening to pull you back in. Was someone baking a pastry? If they were, it smelt delicious, you hoped they would save you some. You rolled slightly, to alleviate the pressure you were putting on your cast, you must have curled oddly in your sleep. A wave of clean bedding wafted over you. Did someone bring you some new things for your nest? That was nice of them. 
You compelled your eyes to open, on your back staring up into the sky light. Too much sun beaming down on your face causes you to outwardly groan, rotating to prop yourself up eyes adjusting to your apartment again. 
You watch the figure in the kitchen, wearing your apron tied snuggly around his waist, shuffle back and forth, chopping and then back to something on the stove. You drag yourself with your hands and good leg onto your couch to observe them better. His light brown hair, catching in the sunlight, almost dances a copper tone. His feline features once and a while angled better for you to catch glimpses of his concentration. Contentedly you watch him, sitting silently as he doesn’t realize you’re awake. 
That is, until the itch to know becomes too unbearable.
“Lixie says you and Bin take pheromone suppressants.” It's not a question. You watch him halt his movements, but only for a split second then resuming his cooking.
“Yes.” His voice is relatively mellow. At least he doesn’t seem annoyed talking about it. So far.
You hear the bathroom door open from the hall, heavy footsteps coming into the main area. 
“You’re awake” Changbin smiles at you. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. I’m bored of being tired.” You explain away. “How can you both need them? I was surprised when he told me. Especially when I thought I smelt you both on the roof that day.”
Changbins weary look is directed at his hyung, he had no idea what you were talking about. 
“The suppressants work well.” Minho continues working. “You would know if you smelt us.”
“Burnt and sickly sweet right?” You recall what Felix said that day.
“Yes.” Minho answers again, this time looking at Changbin he nods sheepishly. Almost looking disgusted with himself. 
“Can I smell you?” 
“What?” Changbins head shoots up to look at you. 
“You want to smell us?” Minho, finally forgoes the cooking to fully face you. 
“Haven’t you smelt us before?” Changbin tries to deflect.
“Maybe, but I’ve never noticed anything… ‘offensive’ coming from you two.” You explain. “So I want to check for myself.”
They exchange panicked expressions. 
“You don’t have to, but I would like to.” Your petulant pout adorned on your face.
Eventually Changbin speaks up, “We, uh don't mind. We’re just worried about you.”
“I promise I will not throw up.” You chuckled at them. 
“Ok but don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Minho shakes his head in disbelief.
They cautiously make their way around the couch, coming to stand in front of you. 
“Who first?” You exclaim cheerfully. Once again they exchange weary looks then roll their eyes at your nonchalant attitude of this impending wave of disgust to hit you. 
“Me.” Minho kneels on the floor, making it easy to get close enough to his scent gland without causing you too much physical strain. You shift forward, leaning into his neck making sure not to make any contact. You give a hesitant sniff, the suppressants they are on must be really strong. You inch closer, taking a deep inhale. 
The smell hits you instantly. You keep a straight face.
“Changbin.” 
By the gods you managed to get your voice out in a steady tone.
Changbin follows his hyungs position, Minho now standing to observe. 
This time knowing how close you needed to be to actually smell their pheromones, you move right away. Leaning in and taking a second deep inhale of the night. 
Your face blanks, as they now stand together waiting for your definite repulsion. You take a moment, not able to see the look of dejection on their face. 
“Well…It was undeniably you two that I smelt on the roof.” You finally manage. “But I need to ask you both something. When I used my Prime voice on the alphas, and when you came in contact with my heat pheromones, what was running through your minds?” 
They looked at you quizzically, “we…our instincts wanted to protect you. That’s what we were thinking.. Well we weren’t actually. Our alpha instincts took over.”
“As for the voice… I don’t know how to explain how we felt but… it was like if someone didn’t obey it we would make them? Almost giddy, I guess.” 
An airy laugh leaves you. “That’s new. How many more surprises are there gonna be with you two?”
“What-? Our scents?” Changbin redirects back to their previous worry.
“I’m glad you guys take suppressants, because you have the most delicious pheromones I’ve ever smelt in my life.” 
“Did the doctor check to see if you hit your head?”
“Ok, rude.” You huff. “I am never giving you a compliment ever again.”
“You’re sure it was us?” Changbin points between them.
“Yea. 1000%, like a puff pastry with powdered sugar on top and toasted chestnuts in the  morning wrapped in clean linen.” You pout, body slouched back on the couch angrily.
“We’ve never heard those before.” 
“Well, I'm sorry to burst your gross bubble, but you two don’t smell gross.” Shrugging them off you turn your attention to a new curiosity. “What’s for lunch?” 
----
Over the next few days none of you bring up the pheromone conversation again, nor do you bring up their reactions to your Omega. It does however continue to remain an inquiry for you. You wait patiently for today to finally ask someone about it. Cast changing day. 
You let your doctor remove your cast, asking you pain questions and general health ones. As he is casting the new one you finally let yourself ask.
“What would it mean if an alpha didn’t respond to an Omega Prime voice?” The nonchalance in your voice is clear. 
“That would depend, was it intentionally directed to avoid them or was it an all for one?” Keeping his eyes trained down, his hands don’t stop moving, wrapping the bands around your calf.
You let yourself think over the situation before answering.“Since it couldn’t have been properly controlled, let’s say all for one.”
“Well…..”
“Hm.” You contemplate his words. “And what if an alphas' instinct was to protect instead of mount, with an omega in heat?”
“Please don’t say mount.” He grimaced, eyes still down but hands pausing briefly to show his dislike even more than with just his face.
“Aright, instead of ‘try to take by force’.” You stifle your laugh, but continue in your questioning. 
“It would suggest…..”
“Uh huh.” You struggled to take in his answers, but the gist of it wasn’t lost on you. “Last question, what if an alphas pheromones and natural scent was repulsive to everyone around then except one omega, to that omega they smelt really good. What would that suggest?” 
“Why are you so weird today?” He stands to examine your face, finally looking at you. He knew something was going on, it’s not like you were hiding it.
“More than normal?” You give an over exaggerated grin. 
He stares at you blankly for a moment, like he’s considering letting you feign ignorance or pushing you for information. Luckily he doesn’t take too long to decide, he already knows if you’re going to tell him you will. 
“No.” Is his final answer. “It would most likely mean…..”
“Ah.” You flomp back on the mattress, eyes now trained to the ceiling. Your face scrunches up in annoyance as you piece the puzzle together. A puzzle you never asked to have to deal with. You didn’t like complicated things like this, you preferred simple and easy to push along.
“What is this all about?” He sounds worried, he was always worried.
“I think I may have found….”
----
The mindless boredom you had begun to feel while stuck at home, was starting to give you an anxious itch. If you were right about it, and the information your doctor told you did in fact back that up, it would be a time if the boys found out. 
So you kept quiet, no issues if you didn’t bring it up. Clearly they thought differently.
“We think something is going on.” Changbin announces from your kitchen. They had come over together to help you complete some work and make you dinner. Felix had something come up and they had volunteered. 
“Well I’m hoping it’s not something bad with my food.” You nonchalantly throw over your shoulder, fingers typing away on your laptop from the couch. 
Your nest still a mess on the floor. Felix had offered to fix it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him. Something was still missing.
“With the three of us.” Minho finishes. AH, so they noticed something. Your hands still, recline back arm over the back of the couch, you lounge out. 
“And what exactly is happening?” You inquire, body calm, mind ready to receive any information they might have dug up.
They gave each other a mild once over before exchanging a nod. Approaching you with hesitant energy but sure steps. You could smell them stronger than normal today, maybe that was because they were nervous? Or maybe because your Omega was trying to smell them out? Either way, you ignored it.
“We’ve done some research.” Minho supplies. “About you not finding our smells repulsing.” 
“The only things we could find are research papers on the idea of the rarities of fated mates.” The words come out of changbin so fast you’re surprised you even understand it. 
“It’s a possibility that one of us could be your fated mate.” Minho simplifies. 
“Smart boys.” You chuckle. “Looks like we’ve come to the same conclusion then.”
They stare at you dumbfounded. 
“I was also curious about my Omega pheromones having certain effects on your alpha instincts.” You continue. “And it seems they have also indicated that. However, I’ll tell you both now. Just because it appears that way doesn’t mean I’m about to jump on either of you.” 
“We get that. We just want to make sure we're all on the same page with what this could possibly entail for us.” Minho confides, emphasizing their sincerity. These boys knew you well enough and what your view was on ‘mates’. 
You sigh heavily, how was the idea of the possibility of having a fated mate this exhausting? 
“And we want to be honest..” Changbin directs your attention. “We both have felt drawn to you. If this possibility was right and you felt something for one of us over the other, we’d be ok with that. But we also don't want you to feel like you have to do anything.”
You gave them a soft smile. “Thank you boys. If it had to possibly be anyone, I’m glad it was you two.” 
Upon some form of conclusion for the night, they helped you hobble over to the kitchen table to eat for the night. 
But there was still a lingering thought playing in the back of your mind that you couldn’t quite settle.
----
“A FATED PAIR?!” Felix screeched excitedly from the other end of your couch, flailing pillows and plushies toward you.
“The possibility of a fated pair.” You correct, dodging each oft blow with a giggle. You knew he would have an over the top reaction, which honestly was one of the reasons why you did want to tell him, but also you didn’t want to spend the evening answering his million questions.  
“But TWO?!” His excitement wasn't about to die down. “Holy shit. How are you going to choose?”
“Lix, I’m not going to choose.” You hush him, wanting to bring an end to this interrogation. “Listen, I won’t choose someone just because my omega wants me to. I need to actually like the person first. I need to know them.”
“It’s Changbin and Minho.” He reminds, giving you a pointed look.
“I know, but you and I both know how badly couples can end just because they go along with their sub genders needs. I’d rather be sure.” You recall past mutual friends of yours and how disastrous their situations turned out when they let their instincts fully take over. It had left the friend group shattered with no amount of apologizing and forgiveness could mend what had been hurt.
“So you are going to pick one of them?” He still pushes.
“I’m not saying yes and I’m not saying no.” You finish, huffing before mumbling to yourself. “We could still be wrong.”
----
Work had called you asking if you could come in, there was a specifically rude alpha writer that demanded the editors who worked on his last piece to be there. He had first come in requesting only Alphas to work on his writing. The manager had told him that they would do the best they could but they had limited Alphas available. The top editors in the firm were you, two other omegas, an alpha and a beta. However, that didn't seem to be good enough.
Apparently he had just realized that it was 3 omegas who had been credited for the editorial, even though the 3 of you had also worked on his previous project. To top it off he was also very into his hierarchy of the subgenders. 
Thankfully for you, you had just entered the free standing boot phase of your recovery. You hobbled into the firm, the receptionist welcoming you back, and warning you of what might be in the conference room. She also let you know a little piece of extra information about said writer. He was a dominant alpha male.
Upon entering the room you are enveloped with the intense heavy set musk of dominant pheromones. The need to vomit crept up on you, leaving a nasty taste in your mouth.
“Sorry for being late,” You respond normally, pretending not to notice the provoked alpha on the far side of the room. Not to mention, the two omega editors cowering in at the side table, looking meek and shaking in their chairs. “I’m still a little slow on my feet.” 
Your Alpha manager rushed over to you to help you alongside the others, the shallow tremble in him didn’t go unnoticed. “No worries, y/n we were just going over the issue.”
“Is there an issue?” You ask cheerfully. First you get a read on the hostile energy. The dominant alpha stands tall, smug expression on his face as he watches everyone in the room struggle to keep themselves together. 
“I would say there is, omega.” His voice instantly makes your brain itch, and not in a good way. Gross. Also his need to identify your sub gender to the room really tests your ability to hold your eyes from rolling. “I requested alpha editors to be a part of the project, not three omegas. I need my work to be looked over carefully and with exceptional skills. I am sure you three are adequate but I don’t like being kept in the dark about my own work.” 
You pretend to mull over his words, this man clearly needs others to bow down and grovel at his feet. 
What an unfortunate choice for him.
“As I recall your novel hit #1 on the charts for 4 weeks and it was completed before the deadline.” Your professionalism is on full display. “I am sorry if you do not feel that your work has been properly looked after. But our firm never promised for an alpha only team, just as you did not feel the need to read over the creditors before releasing. On all the paperwork you were given about the piece, our names and subgenders were clearly marked. You did not raise a complaint nor concern at the time.”
“So you’re saying that was my neglect then, Omega?” His vocal demeanor changes to a lower tone, rasping out as the room spikes with more pheromones. He evidently was trying to will you to submit, which once again was unfortunate. 
“Could you please not refer to me by my subgender, I do have a name.” You sigh, how annoying.
“You don’t like to be reminded that you are an Omega?” It almost comes out as a snarl at this point. This time you can’t stop from rolling your eyes. 
You push the rollie chair away from the table, turning to face him front on. You side glance over to you manager, then to the antagonistic male then back. Asking for permission, you could see him struggle to nod. The Dominant pheromones now getting to his inner alpha, his instincts fighting to not submit either. You look at your fellow omegas and they are truly a mess. Tears streaming down their faces, heads down, already submitted a time ago. 
“It’s not that I need a reminder. I am very well aware of what I am.” You stated coldly. “You, however, need to be educated.”
His sick chortle of a laugh fills the room. One you were more than happy to silence.
Your Prime voice ready to extinguish his joy.
“SIT.” 
He’s instantly on the ground, mid laugh causing him to choke. 
“CRAWL.” 
You watch him fight against his body, as he trembles onto hands and knees moving towards you. When he’s close enough for your amusement, you hear the omegas behind you stop crying. You can also hear your manager finally take a deep breath. 
“STOP.” 
He sits there on the dirty carpeted floor in his stupid looking designer suit at your feet. You stay seated, comfily reclined in your chair. 
“The only reason this firm worked on your piece in the first place was because it was a favour for your uncle. The amount of work that went into salvaging that piece of crap you spewed is ridiculous. Not to mention no other firm would work with you.” You reprimanded. “You should feel thankful that our manager agreed to it, thankful that you had two of the most professional and invaluable editors we have.”
“You are free to go to another firm, at this point we’d all be grateful if you did. I will remind you, Omega or not you have NO RIGHT to compromise another with your pheromones. It is against the law and we will not hesitate to file against you. Understood?” 
Your eyes glower at him with the intensity of a Prime, he nods sheepishly. 
“Now apologize to my coworkers and manager for wasting their time and disrespecting this firm.” 
His hurried words of begging for forgiveness meant nothing to you. You watched him collect himself and retreat out of the room. The omegas hugging you in thanks.
“I’m surprised you were able to hold off from that alpha. You made it look so easy.” They seemed mesmerized by you. 
“It was.” You stated confidently. “They're not my Alpha.”
----
“A horde of alphas isn’t enough for you? Now you’re tackling aggravated dominants?” Your doctor insisted on an omega specific checkup. Even for you, over exerting yourself while still healing could be dangerous.
“It was only one this time.” You mutter, back in his office once again. You swore you might as well live here with how often you keep showing up. The receptionists and cleaning man were all on a first name basis with you.
“Does your alpha know that you’re making dominants submit to you?” He muses from his desk, looking over your test results.
“My what?” You try to contain your shock, but then again he could read you pretty well. 
He gives you a ‘cmon really’ type of stare, “I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t ask questions unless they’re relevant and of interest. It’s easy enough to put two and two together.” He stands to place the blood pressure wrap around your arm. “So how does your alpha feel about it?”
“They’re thrilled.” You stone face, eyes locked on your arm.
“Really?” 
“Giddy even.” You pout defiantly. 
“I know it’s a touchy subject, but do you have any plans to mate with them?” You could hear the sincerity in his voice. You didn’t want to hide anything from him, if anything he would be the one to help you figure it all out. 
“I-There’s two.” You look up at him.
“Two?” He gives you a perplexed look, before lightly chuckling. “You definitely don’t make things easy.”
“Yea yea. I’m the definition of the perfect patient.” You roll your eyes, a smile breaking out on your lips.
“This might be an idea, but maybe you should test their scents against your heat?” He suggests, pulling the monitor away.
“...how would I do that?” 
“Well, your heat is coming up shortly so I would say to ask each of them for something to have with you during it. If your Omega reacts more to one scent then the other you know at least you know where part of you stands.” 
That could be a piece of the puzzle you could use.
----
A day out. You desperately needed a day out, especially with your heat approaching. Bless Felix for planning with everyone to finally get you out of the house. And like the bundle of sunshine he was, he decided it would be best to hit up all your favourite local pier. One that happened to be equipped with a few rides, bowling alleys, mini golfing courses and other small activities. 
Of course the first plan of attack was a couple of the rides, your boot and all slugging into mechanisms. The last one being a sort of enclosed type tilt-a-whirl, which to be fair did have some pretty steep drops. The line was a little longer for this one, so you all cued together. When you got to the front of the line you had just begun sorting into smaller groups.
“I’ll sit with Changbin and Minho” you volunteer, hand raising in the air. The two started to pack themselves into the enclosed bubble.
“Really?” Seungmin quips almost astounded that someone would want to. You roll your eyes, heading to follow them in.
“It’s groups of 3, and there’s 9 of us. Does anyone else want to be crammed in a tight space with them?” You challenge, the look of horror on their faces was more than enough as an answer. “Exactly.”
As you begin to enter the ride Minho holds his hand out for you, steadying you as you step over the gap. Changbin, waits for you to sit before closing the door behind you. 
“Are you sure y/n?” Changbin asks, settling himself across from you. 
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.” Your tone annoyed but strong. “I like your scents, even if there was someone else wanting to come in with you I’d still be here.” 
Minho turns away to try to hide the smile on his face, changbins sheepish smile is turned down to the floor. You couldn’t help admiring how cute they were. 
How did you not notice that before? ….. you knew, being one disappointment after another you had turned off and locked down your omega. Becoming unable to view anyone as anything more than a friend. It was safer that way. In your old world only other primes were eligible for you to mate with. But maybe now it was time to turn it back on, let yourself notice things, let the possibilities in.
“Oh I wanted to ask you guys a favour.” You pull them back, the ride slowly inching forward to let the next 3 in. “I don’t know if Felix mentioned it but my heat is starting in a couple days and -“
“We know.” Changbin cuts in. “Uh, we know but Felix didn’t tell us.” 
You eye him for a moment, there was something he wasn’t saying. You glance at Minho.
“We can smell it.” Minho to the rescue.
“Smell it?” You give yourself a quick sniff. You couldn’t smell anything. At least you don’t normally until the day of. “Huh. Ok? Well I was wondering if I could borrow something from each of you during my heat?”
Their eyes spring back to you. Shock is not the right word to explain what you see. 
“My doctor told me to test my omega. It’s been mostly dormant for a long time because of my upbringing, so if there is something going on with us” you motion in a triangle “seeing the reaction my base instincts might be helpful, you know? My omega might gravitate toward one of you.”
You could see it in their faces that they were contemplating your words carefully.
“I mean, it does make sense.” Minho agrees.
“But what about you not being swayed by your omegas needs? Your choice?” Changbin seemed concerned.
“I will not let my omega mount either of you before this me decides how we might feel.” You give them the Boy Scout salute. 
“Mount?” Changbin bursts into a full laugh. Finally the mood lightens again. The three of you buzzing by the time the ride actually gets into full swing. You and changbin both needing to hold onto Minho as he yells about wanting to get off. Changbin just screams incoherently and you can’t stop laughing. 
Thankfully the rides controller takes pity on them and slows it down to let your group off. Both boys stumble out but still manage to help you off. The rest of your entourage wanting to go again.
You decide to head into the building that holds the bowling alley, your incline down the last steps proves to be a little slippery as your booted foot slides out from under you.
The impact with your ass and the carpeted floor makes you grunt. They both let out maniacal fits of laughter at your landing. 
“Ha.Ha. Help me.” You demand, pout uncontrollably appearing.
“Watch out if we don’t help her back up she might use her prime voice on us.” 
“Yea because that worked so well last time” you rolled your eyes and huffed. Thankfully they still help you into a seat next to an unused lane. “Besides, if anything it would just make you two high or something.”
“What do you mean?” That causes them to stop laughing.
“Apparently it’s another possibility. That being fated to a prime means the voice doesn’t work on you like other people. Alphas have no choice, their inner alpha hates it. Like nails on a chalkboard. But with fated it hits the serotonin and dopamine thrill.” You smirk, flashing them bright eyes batting your eyelashes. 
“Our own personal dealer?” Minho chides.
“Nice.” Changbin retorts, they high five. “I’ll grab you shoes….or a shoe.”
“I’ll grab drinks. You.” He points to you, then your chair.
You wave him off in indifference to scan around the alley. You guys hadn’t been here in almost a year. It was almost scary how it hadn’t changed at all. Still a musky smell of ocean water, easy pizza and burgers, as well as a hint of BO. The workers were younger than you remembered, but you were also older than you remembered. Chuckling to yourself at the nostalgia. Your eyes find their way over to Minho in the line for the concession. 
His broad back and slender waist turned to you. He wasn’t as slim as a lot of the members, Ji specifically. No one could beat that man's waist. He never really wore shirts that were tight fitted, which in hindsight could be quite a shame….that went for Changbin too. Minho was taller, with sharp features, but still soft to look at. But that was him, wasn’t it?
He looked cold from the surface, not really responding or speaking but he was extremely observant. If you had to guess his love language would definitely be acts of service. He wasn’t good at accepting compliments, which made it all the more fun to dish out. Watching the blush creep up his face as he tries to hide it. He really was dependable. There was no doubt about that in your mind. He had such a deep caring nature for those he cared about, anyone would be lucky to be bonded with him.
Just as you fall deeper into his silhouette, Changbin appears in front of you.
“Shoe!” He chimes cheerfully. A single show for you and two pairs for them. Before you can say anything in response he’s down on one knee in front of you. 
Pulling your good foot by your ankle he rests it on his leg, untying the laces and slipping your foot out. He’s extremely fluid and delicate in his movements, it’s weirdly mesmerizing. His strong hand reaches over to grab the single bowling shoe, sliding onto your foot with ease. 
How did he know your shoe size? You’re sure that’s something you’ve never brought up before. You can see the top of his bleach dyed hair, his roots vaguely noticeable. Another observant one, he and Minho clearly shared that in common. However he seemed more like a words of affirmation type… He always knew exactly what to say in any situation. Always knew how to make someone feel better, he was truthful in a way that seemed more uplifting even with sour news. His shoulders were broader than your other friends, his ability to gain muscle was something to be desired for sure. His obvious soft eyes could turn fierce in a second if he felt he had to. 
It took everything in you to not reach out to feel his hair run through your fingers. 
And just like that you snap back out. Your shoe on and laced up, and Changbin standing to accept his drink from Minho. Minho doesn’t say anything as he places a drink down next to you. You peer over at it not sure what you were expecting as you hadn't told him what you wanted. 
He notices you staring at your cup. 
“Water.” He states, sipping on his drink. “Too much caffeine doesn’t sit well before your heat.”
He turns away, both men now replacing their shoes. They had moved on to another conversation. But you felt stuck.
‘Water…water…’
How did he know caffeine makes you feel gross during your heat period? You’ve only ever mentioned it to Felix. Did Felix tell Minho about the caffeine? Did Felix tell Changbin your shoe size? How did they know…. When did they know?
Just as your minding your words to ask them about it, the others in your group come barrelling down the stairs. Laughter stealing your attention, maybe later. You’d ask them later.
----
Later your ass. You never did get round to asking, your mind in a sort of whirlwind since. But still  the day before your heat Minho and Changbin showed up at your apartment, they both had decided the best thing to give you were one of the most worn hoodies. Apparently Felix told them you tended to get really cold between waves of need. Changbin had brought a black one and Minhos was a light gray. They had made sure the day leading up to they had worn them without taking suppressants. So they slept, ate, worked out (per your request) in the hoodies. 
You thanked them, letting them know you’d wash them before returning and you were sorry for however state they ended up. They laughed and said they knew what they had agreed to. 
And with that you locked yourself away, awaiting the pain and insufferability of going through your heat alone again.
Your doctor's idea was a good one….well it would have been if you were someone else.
----
The day after your heat ended you had managed to clean yourself and your apartment up. Your fridge was now empty of the premade meals that Felix had given you. Now understanding why they had an underlying smell of a bakery, Minho was the one who made them for you.
You had your answer post heat, but did it really change anything? Should you tell your doctor? Felix? Changbin and Minho? 
You were already emotionally mentally and physically exhausted, but this was just ready to make your head explode. Deciding fuck it, you placed both sweaters unwashed in sealed bags. Keeping them separate from each other and from stinking up the whole building. Throwing them in your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. You texted Minho asking if they were both home stating you had to talk to them. He instantly replied that they were and you could come over anytime.
You rushed to get your shoes on and head over to their shared apartment. Of course they would share, now it makes more sense because of their pheromones and your understanding of them. Clearly something you once again didn’t notice before.
Your fist against the door sounds a lot more aggressive than you meant it to be. Changbin opens the door, almost taking you by surprise, but don’t let it stop you. Dropping your backpack onto the middle of their living room floor. 
“Are you ok?” Minho questions quickly. “You smell…sour?”
“Did something go wrong?” Changbins clearly worried. They both are. 
“No…well…it did tell me…things, I guess.” You fumble your words, which is most definitely not like you. “I just had to get out of there. I was thinking too loudly.”
“We get it, it’s a lot to ask of you” Minho reassures. Why did that make you feel even shittier?
“My backpack.” You look down to the mass on the floor. “I brought your sweaters back…”
“Before you say anything y/n.” Changbin walks across the room to you. “We have a favour we’d like to ask of you. Or at least we hope it could help?”
“We were thinking, what if we each took an item from you for out ruts?” Minho joined him in front of you. “It might not be the same as your heat, but at least you’d be reassured on our end that our alphas are 100% wanting this. Just like…..we are.”
“You-?” Fumbled, seriously now was not the time to lose your ability with words. 
“We both have genuine feelings for you. Alphas or not. People to people. If we could have it our way, honestly we’d be willing if you wanted both of us. Our alphas agree…” Changbin smiles softly. 
You take a step back, baffled by them. Two of the most capable human beings wanted you, you as a person. Not because you were a prime…and their alphas wanted to be with you too. Alphas wanting to be with a Prime, not only that but share? This was beyond a possibility. This was impossible. You let out a dry airy chuckle, now standing confident to face them.
“In my backpack, are your hoodies. I didn’t wash them.” From confusion to mischief, the look in your eyes hypnotizes them. You reach down, pulling out each sealed ziploc piece of clothing. Tossing them at the males they catch them effortlessly, without looking away from you. 
“I think I’ll let you find out for yourselves.” 
They blink themselves back, glancing down to the packages in their hands. You see their jaws lock in place. Could it be worry, or they’re both ready for their chance to be disappointed or is it the thought of being able to smell what you smelt like during your heat. 
Regardless it didn’t matter now. You all needed answers, you had heard theirs. Now they need to know yours.
Hesitantly, with shaking hands they open the bags in unisent, letting the smells intrapped inside to explode out. They both swallowed down a lump in their throats. You can see them inhale deeply and shudder. Something about watching them on edge, waiting for their answer, both wanting awakens your omega. Instead of fighting them down you let them watch, to take in the sights and scents with you. You can feel your left eye be taken over by your omega. For the first time, in your life your omega and you were working together. 
During your heat you found a harmony within yourself you didn’t know you could have. 
Changbins shoulders roll back as the stress vein on Minho's neck protrudes. They reach in, taking a moment to look at each other exchanging a nod and pulling the garments out. The fusion of your scent on full blast and theirs erupts. It feels so thick it will probably stick to every surface in their apartment.  
They scan over their individual pieces, you can see when they and their alphas understand what they are holding in their hands. Your omega purrs, feeling the pheromones of a pleased alphas circulating. They both hear it when you let the sound come out of your mouth. One eye normal, one omega taken. 
“It’s difficult to wear two hoodies at all times.” Your voice sultry, vibrating with the purr from your chest. “Maybe one of you should give me some pants next time.” 
You smile widely at them. Their alphas are just as shocked as they are, looking to each other and what's in their hands it sinks in. 
You wore both. The whole time your omega needed an alpha, you clung to both. You used both to fight for release. 
“Or how about instead, you both join me?” You smirk. “Because I’ve already starting falling for both of you.” 
The smile on their faces was beyond breathtaking. To think you might have missed this. You never wanted to miss this. Miss them. 
The possibility seemed so unreal months ago, but now could only have been a definite since the beginning. 
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dorianwritesthings · 1 year
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Even  Captain Rex x Jedi! Reader
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Part 1 of 2 (I think…we’ll see.)
Captain Rex x Jedi! Reader
Summary: You’re a Jedi, you aren’t supposed to harbor romantic feelings. But when you meet a certain Clone Captain, something feels different.
Pronouns: Gender neutral.
Warnings: Reader in the Med Bay, Nothing really graphic but I like to be thorough.
_____________________________________________________________
“Hang in there, General. You’re going to be fine.”
The medbay, as usual, was cold, despite this planet’s hot and humid atmosphere. The swirling memories of your rescue last night came and went even as you sat there.
“We’re reinforcements from General Skywalker. The battle is over.”
“What’s his name?” You asked Ahsoka, eyeing the Clone Captain as you did so.
“That’s Captain Rex, Master.” Asoka responded quickly. She was such an energetic young Padawan, perfect for Skywalker.
“Ah, yes,” you responded, watching as he checked on various wounded troopers, “Thank you. He’s the one who carried me out of there.”
“He’s a good soldier.” the padawan responded, then, at a call from her Master, ran over to Skywalker. You were going to get up to join her, but the cold hand of the medical droid reminded you that you were in no condition to move. You reluctantly stayed put, looking out over the clones, trying to count all of your men. 
You knew some of them were gone, and you took a moment to meditate on their passing and honor their newfound place in the force. There would be more time to mourn them later, but for now you let the moment come and go before reopening your eyes.
“General.” You turned to see your own clone commander, Recall, being held up by a quickly made crutch.
“Glad to see you made it out better than me, Commander.” you sighed, a smile tugging at your lips for the first time in the day, “It’s good to see you, Recall.”
“And you too, Sir.” he said, “Are you...feeling alright, Sir?”
“I’ll be fine.” You said, “I’ll need a full report as soon as possible on the state of the company.”
“My men are already on it.” That voice you’d know anywhere.
“Thank you, Master Skywalker.” you said. He smiled in that kind way of his. “We were in a rough spot there.”
“Yeah you were.” he said, then, sensing your grief added, “You did what you could, and you fought well.”
That was high praise from him.
“Thanks.”
“I’m having my clones in the 501st check on your men.” He added, “I figured it would give your boys a break.”
“Thank you.” You smiled…”Again.” 
He nodded. “I’ll have Captain Rex give you a report when they’re finished.”
For a moment you felt off balance. It was an unfamiliar sensation.
“Very good.” you laid back down, glad to have things taken care of, “I’ll likely still be in this bed, so he should have no trouble finding me.”
A beep from the medical droid confirmed your suspicion and you sighed.
Anakin nodded, then pulled out his holocom.
“And now for the bad news,” he sighed, “ I’m technically supposed to be on the other side of the planet right now. We’ll have to report to the council.”
You winced slightly at the thought. “I suppose so.”
One boring meeting with the council later, you were still in the medbay, trying your best to meditate.
Why were you so off balance? You’d been in compromising scrapes before. This wasn’t your first trip to a medical bay by any means, so what made this different? You always felt the weight of responsibility for your men when these things happened and while that feeling was still there, something else was gnawing at you. 
As if in answer to your wonderings a firm voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“General.”
You opened your eyes to see the same Clone Captain from earlier. Captain Rex.
“Ah, Captain,” you said, propping yourself up, “I assume you’re hear for that report.”
“Correct, sir.” He said. You paid close attention as he gave you a run down of the conditions of your troops. Fewer had been lost than you expected, and though many were injured, Skywalker’s aid arrived just in time to prevent the worst. You sighed in relief.
“We’ve managed to hold our position here.” Rex said, “And will continue to aid on this front as your forces recover.”
“Good news.” You said, “Thank you, Captain.”
“Sir.” He nodded, turning to leave, but you called him back.
“Rex,” he seemed a bit surprised at hearing his name, “Captain. I also wanted to thank you for getting me out of there. I probably wouldn’t even still be here if it weren’t for you.”
“Just doing my job, Sir.” He said, but you noticed a fluctuation in his emotions as he did so. You smiled softly.
“Regardless, I’m appreciative none the less. I…” You paused unexpectedly as the words caught in your throat, “I’m excited to continue working with you. Once I’m out of this medbay that is.”
He gave you a small smile and nodded, returning to his own General.
You watched him go, then sighed and went back to meditating.
A few weeks later, you were back on your feet. The damage was bad, and you still felt sore at times, but the medics assured Recall that you were recovered enough to fight again.
“Honestly, Commander,” You smiled, “You worry about me too much.”
“Because you don’t worry enough.” Recall sighed, “I hardly understand how Rex deals with his Jedi.”
You let out an amused breath at that. The Captain came to visit you a few times during your recovery, always under the guise of giving you updates. While he always had information about the ongoing fight, you’re conversations grew longer as he warmed up to you. You were glad for the company. The medbay wasn’t exactly the most stimulating of experiences.
“He’s an interesting one.” You agreed, “I like him.”
“Oh you like him, do you?” Recall nudged you a bit and you rolled your eyes. You’d grown used to the teasing from him. He’d been your Commander since your first campaign and Recall had the uncanny ability to read your emotions.
“You’re the worst.” You said, “And as soon as you get a crush on someone, I plan on showing no mercy.”
“Ah, so you do like him.” He said, “Looks like Quickshot owes me some credits.”
“You were betting on it?”
He shrugged, “Why not? Not much to do with so many of us in recovery.”
You groaned a bit at the thought. You loved your troopers, but it really was like having a few hundred brothers.
“Have I been so obvious?” you asked seriously. You always could confide in Recall, and it was about time you were honest with yourself, “Am I a bad Jedi?”
“I don’t think so, Sir.” Recall said. He put a hand on your shoulder and you sighed a bit.
“We’re not supposed to have these feelings.” You said, “Or at least, we’re supposed to acknowledge and then let them go. But…I don’t want to.”
He chuckled at that, “That bad, huh?”
Your shoulders sank.
“Look, General, I’m going to speak plainly. None of the men will care. All we care about is who you are as our general. Liking someone isn’t going to change that.”
“Thanks.” You said, “It’s nice to be able to talk about it.”
“Anytime, Sir.”
Before you could begin to focus on the map in front of you, Recall nudged you yet again. You looked up at him in annoyance but then followed his gaze. Rex was jogging towards you.
Immediately you felt your face heat up and hoped that no one noticed.
He greeted you formally and you put him at ease.
“Were’s General Skywalker?” You asked, not seeing him anywhere. Rex rubbed the back of his neck.
“He and Commander Tano decided to…make an improvised maneuver.”
You laughed. Of course they did.
“I see.” You said, “And I assume they’re wanting me to play along?”
“Yes, sir.”
You gave Recall a look. He was looking at you both with an expression that said, quite clearly, “Thank the Maker I’m not in the 501st”.
“So what’s the plan, Captain?” You asked, “Where’d they go to anyway?”
He pulled up a new section of the map, pointing to a ridge next to the separatist base.
“They plan to cause a rockslide, cutting off the base from it’s main supply lines.”
“A siege doesn’t strike me as that unorthodox.” You noted, “Not really Skywalker’s style.”
“Right, General.” Rex agreed, pulling up another point on the map. He focused in on the rear gates of the complex, “They’re planning to lead an assault team through here after the initial rockslide.”
“And they didn’t bring you because…”
“They want you and I to perform a similar operation from the other side.” He said.
“That’s a suicide mission!” Recall said, clearly still concerned about your injuries.
“Skywalker is unorthodox, Recall.” You said, holding up a hand, “But he’s not stupid. There’s something about this we’re not seeing.”
Rex looked relieved for a moment, glad you were willing to give his General the benefit of the doubt.
“Right, well, this morning we received intel that a large section of the base’s troops were on the move. There are a few outpost stations in the surrounding area, but they all have to go through that one pass.”
“No ships?” You asked.
“Too obvious.” He said, “They probably don’t know that we’ve found their security outposts and would like to keep them a secret. Traveling on foot is the best way to avoid detection.”
“I see.” You said, “So the base is under defended.”
“Yes sir.”
“Alright, Captain.” You said, “I’ll go with you and your team. Recall, I want you to get several teams together and take out those outposts. Don’t want them calling for help.”
“Yes, sir!” they both said. You took note of how, even though they were clones, their voices sounded ever so slightly different.
You watched them go, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.
____________________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading! Let me know if you have ideas for another part. I have plans for a continuation set during Season 2-ish of Bad Batch, but I imagine some more clone wars shenanigans with Rex could be fun. I just would like ideas if you guys have any. Trying to find some inspiration. 
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therisingkings · 2 months
Text
I Still Hate You
With Damen out of town, Nikandros is forced to join Laurent at a gala. However, someone slips something into Laurent's drink that leads to Nikandros having to give him some "special" help. Don't worry, they still hate each other.
Read it on Ao3
*****
“Do not panic,” Laurent said, which made Nikandros instantly want to panic. He was leaning too close, his lips right by Nikandros’ ear. “But we need to leave. Right now.”
“What happened?” Nikandros put a critical inch between them.
They were at a gala, a celebration to bring in the new year. Veretain Industries was many things, but at least they knew how to throw a party. Nikandros had been sent on Damen’s behalf, since his friend was busy halfway across the country, cleaning up the mess his half-brother had made at the Akielon Industry.
“I’ll explain later. Just get us out of here.”
“Should I—”
“ Now, idiot.” Laurent was tense, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His glare got Nikandros moving.
Nik said his goodbyes as quickly as possible but didn’t bother to say anything to the host.  Henry DeVere was a piece of work. If Nikandros didn’t have to speak to him again for the rest of his life, he’d die a happy man.
Laurent stuck to his side the whole way out, which was odd. Off. When Laurent wasn’t cursing Nikandros, he was actively trying to push his buttons. The only reason Nikandros tolerated him was for Damen. He’d been Damen’s best man at the wedding. He’d promised he’d be there if Laurent needed him too.
So Nikandros gritted his teeth as they waited for their driver. Something was wrong, he knew that much, but Laurent, per usual, was keeping secrets. Maybe it was his uncle. Henry DeVere had made a rather passive aggressive speech at the beginning of the night about the future of Veretain Industries, all without mentioning its heir, who would inherit in less than six months when he turned twenty-one.
Nikandros turned to him. “Is it—”
“Get in the car.” Laurent shoved him towards it as soon as the driver pulled up. He slammed the door behind him and gave a curt order to take them to Nikandros’ apartment.
“Why are we going to my apartment?” Nikandros asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Yours is closer. He can drop you off first.”
“No.” Laurent closed the window to the front seats before leaning back. He undid his tie and the top button of his shirt in short, quick movements to take several deep breaths. After a moment of silence, he said slowly, “Someone, I think, is trying to make a fool of me.”
“Laurent, tell me what happened.” The city passed through the windows in blurs of golden and silver light.
Laurent dropped his head against the rest, then rolled it to press his brow to the window. “T’s so cold.”
“ Laurent!”
He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I may have been drugged.”
“ What? We need to call the police.” Nikandros was already reaching for his phone.
Laurent put a hand on his wrist. His skin was hot. “No. Just—Stop. Give me… a moment.”
Nikandros reopened the window and said to the driver, “Take us to the nearest hospital. Now. Go—”
“No! He’s overreacting. The apartment, please.” 
The driver’s brows pinched, his eyes flicking in the rearview mirror. “Sir?”
“Who fucking pays you?” Laurent slammed the window back shut.
“Overreacting? Are you fucking nuts? No, don’t answer that.” Nikandros pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something is seriously wrong if you’re saying ‘please.’”
“No press,” Laurent mumbled, and all the strength seemed to seep from him as he leaned back against the window. He closed his eyes. “I know this drug. It’s not fatal.”
“You really know how to reassure someone, don’t you?” Nikandros snapped.
“Your feelings are really the least of my concern right now.”
“Aren’t they always?”
Laurent’s eyes opened to thin slits. “Just shut up. Let me think.”
Nikandros clenched his jaw. “Fine.” He didn’t even care if the little brat died. Well, he did, but only because it would hurt Damen.
The rest of the drive was mercifully silent and short. Laurent’s condition didn’t seem to worsen, so some of Nikandros’ anxiety decreased. They went into his apartment building and in the new lighting, Nikandros could see the slight flush on Laurent’s cheeks.
“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Nikandros asked in the elevator. 
Laurent’s cool gaze slid over to him. He’d taken off his suit jacket in the car and now clutched it in front of him, hands white-knuckled. “I’m sure.”
The elevator door opened to Nikandros’ penthouse suite. Laurent immediately strode inside, then paused. He looked around. “Do you have cameras in here?”
“Why would I have cameras in my own apartment?”
“Good.” Laurent waited another moment, shifting his weight. Finally, he said, “I have dealt with this particular brand of poison before.”
Nikandros raised a brow. “Okay.”
There was another pause. “It is an aphrodisiac. One of the more powerful ones on the market.”
The blood drained from Nikandros’ face.
Laurent went on, as if now that the words were out, he needed to explain himself. “It’s called hakesh. A Vaskain creation. Old. I recognized the taste in my drink, but it was already too late.”
“Okay…” Nikandros absorbed the information. Had he and Damen messed with it before? No, he didn’t want to know that.
“I suspect… there may be people waiting for me at my apartment.”
Oh. Oh.
“What do you want me to do?”
Laurent held out a hand. “Give me your phone.”
“No,” Nikandros said immediately, pity flooding out of him. The last thing he wanted was those grubby little fingers on his personal data.
Laurent snapped said fingers impatiently. “Mine’s dead. I need to call Damen.”
Nikandros crossed his arms over his chest. “Charge it.”
Laurent turned and took two steps forward until he was in Nikandros’ face. “Would you like to explain to my husband how I was poisoned under your watch, or would you rather me soften the blow? It’s up to you.”
“I hate you,” Nikandros snarled and shoved the phone into his hands.
Laurent strode off in the direction of the bedroom, then slammed the door behind him. How he knew where the bedroom was, having never been there before, Nikandros didn’t care. 
He poured himself a healthy glass of whiskey and took a seat at the bar. He’d known Laurent’s uncle was evil, but this was a whole new level. Had Laurent drank more than he did, he could have humiliated himself in front of everyone at the gala. He’d just be seen as overly drunk, unable to control himself. 
It was cruel and twisted and stank of Henry DeVere.
The muffled murmur of conversation came from the bedroom. Nikandros took a large draw of his whiskey.
The door opened. Laurent emerged, another two buttons of his shirt undone, and handed the phone to Nikandros. “He wants to speak to you.”
Fuck. Nikandros was a dead man. He took the phone from Laurent. “Hello?”
Laurent retreated back into the bedroom and shut the door softly behind him.
“Nikandros.” Damen’s voice was hard.
Nikandros put his head in his hand. “Damen, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I—”
“Are you drinking?”
He set down the glass guiltily. “Yes.”
“Whiskey?” Damen knew him too well.
“Yeah.”
“Pour yourself some more. Drink it all.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it.”
Nikandros did. He finished his glass, then poured another and downed it in a single gulp.
There was a shuffle on the other side of the line. Damen said, “You’re my best friend, you know that?”
“Of course I do,” Nikandros said miserably.
“And you’d do anything for me?”
“Anything.”
“Okay. I need you to fuck Laurent.”
Nikandros almost dropped the phone. “ What?”
“Look, I know it’s—”
“Hold on, hold on. I need another drink before we have this conversation over the damned phone, Damen.”
He put the phone on speaker so he could take the bottle. He debated chugging it, but the last thing he needed right now was alcohol poisoning. He settled for downing another glass.
Damen’s voice came from the speaker. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we don’t have a lot of options here. I’ve got the earliest flight tomorrow, but I can’t get there any sooner.”
Nikandros set down the glass. He stared at Damen’s profile picture on his phone. 
“This drug, it’s got, uh, personal weight to Laurent. It’s not the first time it’s been used against him.” Damen sighed. “It gets very painful, very fast. The only way to ease that pain is with release.”
Nikandros sat back on his stool, head in his hands. “Why can’t he just jerk himself off, then?”
“He’s going to need the normal amount of stimulation, if not more. And he doesn’t like masturbating.”
“I did not need to know that.”
There was another sigh from the phone. “I’m really sorry. Fuck, I knew I should have stayed.”
Nikandros rubbed his face. “This is so wrong.”
“I know. But I…” Fabric rustled. “I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes. He’s your type too.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s your fucking husband, Damen. I would never…”
“I know.”
Silence stretched.
Nikandros tried to collect his thoughts, but they slipped like water through his fingertips. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
“Thank god. Okay. Keep me on the phone. That’s the only way Laurent wants it done.”
“You owe me big time, got it, you asshole?” Nikandros stood phone in hand.
“Anything you want.”
Laurent was leaning against the doorframe leading to the bedroom. He tilted his head and went inside.
Nikandros followed. He found Laurent sitting cross legged on the bed, not looking at him.
He put his phone on the pillow and took off his shoes. 
“You okay, Laurie?” Damen asked.
“I’m fine.” 
Nikandros fidgeted. “I could put it on Facetime if—”
“No.” Laurent shifted backwards until he sat in the middle of the bed. He touched his brow. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“Okay. Uh.” Nikandros didn’t know what to do. “Do you want to just bend over or…”
Laurent gave an undignified snort. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t aggravate him, Laurent,” said Damen sternly. “Nik, kiss him. You can start there.”
Nikandros put one knee on the bed, then had to pause and take a breath. 
Laurent arched a single brow.
So Nikandros moved forward until he could take the little devil’s face between his hands. He started off small, just a bare brush of lips. Laurent’s mouth was warm, at odds with the cold words that usually came from it.
Nikandros tilted his head. The kiss deepened and that wicked tongue was no less wicked than usual. Laurent instantly took control, one hand threading into the roots of Nikandros’ hair. Nikandros grunted as he was pulled by his head further onto the bed. He had to catch himself on his forearm to prevent from squishing Laurent as they laid down.
Laurent kissed him harder. He kissed a lot like Damen, which wasn’t surprising if Nikandros thought about it. Damen liked kissing. He’d told Nikandros that once, after their wrestling match had dissolved into a make-out session and some very heavy petting. Their youth had been full of instances like that, but that had been all it was: youth. They hadn’t kissed since college, with the exception of a very drunk threesome.
Still, Nikandros felt a tingle of familiarity. 
That is, until Laurent pulled back and snapped, “This is fucking boring. What are you waiting for?”
“I…” Nikandros had been, against all reason, enjoying the kiss.
Damen said, “Take off his clothes.”
Nikandros wasn’t sure who the order was for, but they both moved. Laurent sat up faster than Nikandros could sit back, knocking their heads together.
Nikandros blinked, then laughed.
Laurent chuckled too as he undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off.
“What? What happened? Why are you laughing?”
Nikandros dropped his own shirt on the floor. “Nothing, D. Just broke the ice a bit.”
“Oh. That’s… good, I think.”
Nikandros grabbed the waistband of Laurent’s pants and yanked those and his underwear off in one go.
Laurent splayed out on the mattress, completely at ease with his nudity. Nikandros took a moment to appreciate the display. Laurent’s revealed skin was creamy and pale, at odds with the tip of his cock, an almost angry red. It was his nipples that drew Nikandros’ attention: a dusty pink, the same shade as his lips.
Nikandros took a deep breath. “What does he like?”
Damen hummed and there was the clink of a belt buckle. “Hold him down when you kiss him. He likes the weight.”
So Nikandros did, taking control of the kiss himself as he pinned both of Laurent’s wrist beneath his hand. He delved into Laurent’s mouth and found the man more pliant than he’d been moments ago.
He trailed off, down the column of Laurent’s neck. “Can I—” he started to say at the same time Damen said, “Mark him up if you want. It drives him mad.”
Laurent made a noise in the back of his throat as Nikandros nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin until it blushed the color of ripened peaches. He shifted further, releasing Laurent’s hands so he could take a nipple into his mouth. Laurent jerked slightly, almost imperceptible, but Nikandros caught the message: not there.
He returned to Laurent’s lips, which were gleaming in the dim light.
“You’ll have to prep him,” Damen said as they kissed. “Three fingers ‘cause he tenses up fast.”
Nikandros pulled back to study Laurent’s flushed mouth. 
Laurent’s eyes fluttered open. “What are you waiting for?”
Nikandros stretched over him to fish through his nightstand. He retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom before sitting back on his heels. He gripped Laurent’s thigh and pushed it open, revealing his puckered entrance. 
Squirting some of the lube onto his fingers, Nikandros watched Laurent’s face as he eased one in.
His expression was carefully neutral, save for the blush that had begun to spread over his cheeks, then bled down his neck as Nikandros pumped for a few moments before adding a second finger.
He was tight, like Damen had said, and just the feel of the heat on his fingers had Nikandros’ cock hardening to full mast. He curled his fingers and earned the slightest arch of Laurent’s back.
Laurent’s eyes fluttered shut. “He’s taking too long, Damen.”
“Hush,” Nikandros snapped as he pushed in a third finger.
Laurent made a small noise and turned his head into the pillow.
“He has to take his time, sweetheart. We don’t want you to tear.”
Nikandros rolled his eyes. “He is anything but sweet.”
Damen’s chuckle was deep and hearty.
Laurent shifted his hips, pushing Nikandros’ fingers deeper inside of him. 
Nikandros withdrew slightly, slowing his movements. He smirked.
Laurent slung an arm over his eyes. “Can you please just fuck me already?” His voice was higher than it had been a moment ago.
Nikandros considered making him wait longer, but he didn’t want him to be in pain, despite all evidence to the contrary. “Damen?”
“Go ahead. Take him on his back.”
Nikandros removed his slick fingers so he could shed himself of his slacks. He rolled on the condom before kneeling back between Laurent’s legs. He applied more lube, to himself and to Laurent’s twitching entrance.
Laurent was still hiding his face, so Nikandros took the offending arm and pressed it back into the pillows beside the phone, intertwining their fingers. Laurent looked up at him with wide eyes, his plush lips parted slightly. Nikandros thought he looked like an animal caught in a hunter’s trap.
Nikandros guided the tip in.
“He likes it slow and steady,” Damen provided.
“Fuck.” Nikandros didn’t mean to say it out loud as he eased himself inside. “He’s so damn tight, Damen. He’s gonna snap my fucking dick off.”
“Laurent, sweetheart, you’ve got to relax.”
“It hurts, Damen,” Laurent admitted in a small voice that Nikandros had never heard before.
“I know, I know. But Nik is gonna make you feel better.” A pause, then, “Why don’t you kiss him some more?”
Nikandros dropped his head to do just that, but Laurent jerked his chin away.
“Don’t kiss me. I…”
Nikandros took his chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing him to meet his gaze. He’d never seen a man look so vulnerable. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to Laurent’s.
And this kiss hurt like a brand, but Nikandros couldn’t pull away. He licked lazily into Laurent’s mouth as his hips began to move in small, fractional thrusts until Laurent relaxed between them.
“Good boy,” said Damen as Laurent moaned into Nikandros’ mouth. 
Nikandros pulled out to the tip, then thrust back in slowly, savoring the heat around him. 
Damen’s face was still lit up on the screen of Nikandros’ phone. “He likes it when you grind down once you’re all the way in. Don’t be afraid to put your weight into it either.”
Nikandros obeyed and Laurent moaned again and Nikandros had been wrong: he could be sweet. There was no other word for the arch of Laurent’s back, the rush of his breath across Nikandros’ chin. Laurent’s free hand settled hesitantly onto Nikandros’ side, then his nails bit into the flesh there as Nikandros ground himself deeper.
They fell into a rhythm. Laurent’s own hips began to do little circles in time with Nikandros’ thrusts. Damen had fallen silent on the phone, save for the occasional draw of a heavy breath.
Laurent’s nails dug in harder, his face scrunching almost as if he’d tasted something bitter. He began to let out soft little, “ah, ah, ah”s with every movement that stuttered halfway through the sound.
“He’s close,” Damen said, then cursed. “ Fuck. Don’t speed up. Just keep that pace.”
“Yes,” said Nikandros.
Laurent’s back rose off the bed, his heels digging into Nikandros’ backside. Pushing him deeper, harder. Nikandros resisted the urge to pin his knees to his chest and drive him as deep into the mattress as he could. To pound into him until neither of them could form a coherent sentence. He had to keep his head on his shoulders. He had to—
Laurent came hard with a gasp, his legs shaking as he painted his own chest and belly.
Nikandros gritted his teeth and dropped his brow against Laurent’s. He fucked him through the orgasm, slow, balls tightening with every little shift that Laurent made. 
Laurent’s breathing was ragged, his legs like vices. He let go of Nikandros’ side to grip the back of his neck and said, “Come in me. Please, Damen, I—”
Nikandros fell face first into senselessness. He unhooked one of Laurent’s knees and forced it up. Leaning back, he snapped his hips brutally into Laurent’s, doubling the pace.
“Ah, fuck, wait. I just came. Wait, I’m—”
“Shut up,” Nikandros growled, leaning his whole weight into Laurent. The edges of his orgasm rushed at him, blinding him, pummeling him. He slammed into the hilt, groaning as his body trembled.
He breathed.
In the aftermath, that was all he could do. Dimly, he was aware of more spend now coating both his and Laurent’s torsos, as if Laurent had come a second time. Laurent’s breaths were like hiccoughs in his ear and for a moment, Nikandros thought he was crying.
He shot up. “Oh my god. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Laurent curled into the hand Nikandros had instinctively placed on his cheek. Revealed, he wasn’t crying, but gasping, catching his breath. His eyes, when they opened, were the color of the spring Nik and Damen had swum in as boys. “I’m okay,” he whispered.
“Fuck.” Nikandros flopped onto his back. He didn’t even have the energy to take the condom off.
He was aware of Laurent rising and retreating to the bathroom. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Nikandros knew he should apologize, but his fractured mind couldn’t figure out what for. He hadn’t meant to lose control like that, even if he’d made Laurent come a second time. 
He rolled onto his side and discarded the condom in the bin under his nightstand. Cursing some more, he patted the bed for his phone, then realized Laurent had taken it with him.
“...Of course I will. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Love you too.” Laurent returned from the bathroom and tossed Nikandros’ phone at him. “Damen says ‘thanks.’”
Nikandros blinked, then blinked again as he found himself pushed onto his back. Laurent produced a damp rag and wiped his own come from Nikandros’ chest.
“You don’t have to—”
“Just shut up, please?” Laurent sighed, then threw the rag in the bin. He sat on the edge of the bed, clad in one of Nikandros’ shirts. “Damen also said you have to hold me.”
“I… what?”
Laurent nodded. “It, uh, yeah. And I’m not supposed to go home until he gets back. But I can leave if you don’t—”
“No. No.” Nikandros shifted over, making space. “He’s right. I’m not just gonna let you pack your shit and go like this was a one night stand.”
The last part just slipped out, but Laurent didn’t correct him. He laid down awkwardly on the edge of the bed, all long limbs and sharp elbows. 
Nikandros pulled him closer. “Are you okay?” he asked again, the words disturbing the hair at the base of Laurent’s neck.
Laurent nodded, then turned over in his arms. “Yeah. Are you?”
“Yeah.” They were practically nose-to-nose.
Laurent set a hesitant hand on his chest. “I wasn’t calling you Damen. I know the difference. I was going to ask him if I could see when he came too.”
“Oh. I hadn’t realized…”
“Really?”
“God, just go to sleep. I just know you’re going to harass me about it.”
A smile curled the edges of Laurent’s lips. “I still hate you, you know?”
“The feeling is mutual.”
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fowlblue · 3 years
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Hey Everyone:
Borrowing this idea from @beebrainedstudios - I’m gonna try something: send me two AF characters (or AR, that’s fine too) and I’ll write them interacting! Can’t promise they’ll be any longer than a few hundred words, or that some won’t be AUs (I do want to try writing some), but I’d like to keep some little prompts available for when the urge strikes to write.
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eloves-writes · 3 years
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a failed attempt to hate you
(tristan dugray)
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a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3
screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes. 
your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.
it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.
‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.
‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.
you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.
‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’
‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’
‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’
he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’
‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’
‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’
‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.
you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.
‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’
‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’ 
‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.
 ‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’
‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.
‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes. 
you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.
he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time. 
why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.
‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new. 
he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’ 
that was definitely new.
‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’
‘trying to get rid of me?’
‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’
‘it is? time flies.’
‘tristan.’
‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’
‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’
he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’
‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.
‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.
you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.
‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.
tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’
‘shut up, i hope you fail.’
he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’
‘i guess not.’
there was yet another beat of heavy silence.
‘see you monday.’
‘see you monday.’
you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.
‘i forgot my-’
‘you forgot your-’
another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.
‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.
‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’
‘ever the arrogant twat.’
‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’
‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’
‘as long as you let me do that again.’
tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)
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lillywillow · 3 years
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Cold Heart of the Wild
Summary: For days Bucky has been having dreams about a white wolf and a mysterious woman. What happens when his dreams become reality?
 Word Count: 2234
 Square Filled: White Wolf
 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader
 Warnings: Mentions of hunting and shooting, injuries, minor mentions of death
Written for @star-spangled-bingo
 Snow covered the ground in every direction Bucky looked. It crunched under his feet as he moved; where he was going, he didn’t know. Suddenly, a howl filled the air, its mournful sound sending chills down his spine. There was a flash of movement in the bare trees. Bucky followed it, catching a glimpse of a white wolf.
 The wolf stopped for him as if expecting something. Did it want him to follow? Bucky looked at it for a moment before it ran off.
 “Wait!”
 Bucky chased after the wolf, running in between frozen vegetation, trying desperately to keep up with it. He lost sight of the wolf. Feeling lost in this icy landscape, he frantically searched for any more signs of life. That’s when he saw her.
 A woman dressed in animal hide clothing. A hunter perhaps?
 “Hey!” Bucky shouted, reaching out to her.
 The woman began turning...
...
Bucky woke in a cold sweat. He had almost forgotten all about the mission he was going on that morning. As he prepared for it, he reflected on his dream. That was the sixth night in a row he’d been having dreams like that. Could that possibly mean something? There was no time to dwell too much further on the subject. Bucky had to board the jet and get ready to go.
...
 Bucky’s plane was shot down somewhere over the Alaskan wilderness. He survived the initial crash relatively unharmed but there were Hydra agents waiting on the ground. He fought and took them out but his side was badly injured. As he collapsed in the snow, he thought for sure this was where he was going to die.
 Bucky drifted in and out of consciousness but caught flashes of images.
 The sound of gunfire.
 A white wolf hovering over him.
 Being dragged on some kind of sled.
 A woman with a rifle strapped to her back.
 Bucky’s eyes opened in a jolt. The images had been so familiar to him; he expected to see the sterile environment of a Hydra lab. To his surprise, he found himself in a quaint wood cabin. There were animal hides on the bed keeping him warm.  A fireplace along a wall had a cauldron of something delicious smelling food hanging in its stony walls. A kitchen nook was off to the side of the cabin. The place was rather cosy. Bucky sat up causing pain to shoot through him. He carefully lifted his shirt to see someone had tended to his wound although now blood was seeping through the bandaging. Holding onto his side, Bucky forced himself to his feet and looked out the small window.
 Outside, he could see a woman standing in front of two crudely made graves. She was dressed exactly the same as the one that had been haunting his dreams. A sound behind him caught his attention. Slowly turning around, he saw a white wolf. He went to comment but the pain in his side became too much and he fell to his knees. The wolf went out what appeared some kind of doggy door carved through the main one. A few minutes later, the woman came in, quickly shutting the door behind her. She helped Bucky off the floor and back onto the bed. He whimpered and held up his hand which was now bloodied. She made a disapproving sound with a click on her tongue.
 “You’ve opened that wound again,” she stated. She carefully lifted his shirt once more, helping him to sit up as she cleaned and redressed the injury.
 Once she had finished and washed her hands, she went to get two bowls, filling them with whatever was in the cauldron. She came back, handing him one with a spoon.
 “Thanks,” he muttered. She nodded and sat down to eat as well. A silence fell over the pair of them.
 As Bucky ate, so many questions filled his mind. Who was this woman? Why did she save him? Why had he been dreaming about her? What did any of this have to do with the wolf? He was still very cautious.
 “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... is... we need to get out of here!” Bucky stood up but immediately fell back down in pain.
 The woman sighed and made sure his wound hadn’t once again reopened.
 “You’re safe here. Those Hydra agents won’t be around to bother us. I made sure of it...”
 Bucky froze, fear and dread suddenly sunk in.
 “H-how do you...” The woman sighed softly.
 “I was an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. much like you. I was sent on a mission and my plane went down...”
 It dawned on Bucky why she was so familiar and it had nothing to do with his dreams.
 “You’re Y/N L/N! You were one of the best! I read your file. You went missing ten years ago. Presumed dead...”
 “And I would have been if it hadn’t been for Agnes...”
 “Who’s Agnes?”
 Y/N walked over to the window, her eyes ghosting over with memories.
 “Agnes was... one of the strongest women I have ever known. She lived here with her husband until he died. Lived here on her own for quite some time.”
 “What happened to her?”
 “Two years ago, there was a big grizzly bear... it crept up on Agnes and attacked... I did the best I could to help her and she hung in there for as long as she could... I’ve been here on my own ever since.”
 The wolf let out a huff.
 “Except for James of course,” she smiled. The wolf gave an approving noise.
 “James?” Bucky was more than a little surprised.
 “Agnes told she found him abandoned as a pup. She raised him to be I guess a sort of pet. I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen to him until his time comes.”
 “What do you mean?”
 Y/N once again sighed and tossed James a piece of meat.
 “James is getting pretty old in wolf years. Now, if he should die of natural causes I can bury him with some honour but I’ll be damned if I let some hunter take him away from me.”
 Bucky went quiet for a few moments.
 “How come... you never went back? You could have left at any time...”
 Y/N scoffed softly.
 “When I went down in that plane, it was winter, just as it is now. Every day I wondered if I was ever getting out of here and with each passing month, that hope left. Maybe they sent a search party and couldn’t find me, maybe they couldn’t be bothered, maybe the stories got to them and scared them away...”
 “Stories?” Bucky asked.
 “You see, Alaska has a sort of... Bermuda Triangle area. Planes, ships and people go missing, strange lights in the sky, strange creatures spotted... I never believed the stories but... Perhaps I’ve been without human interaction for too long,” she shrugged. “Anyway, you should get some rest. I’m going to go and hunt something for dinner. If you need anything before I go, tell me now.”
 Bucky shook his head and Y/N made him comfortable before she left with James following behind her. He had been given so much information in such a short amount of time yet he still had questions but for now he would just take some time to allow his body to heal itself.
...
 When night fell, Y/N had boarded up any areas that cold might creep in. She made another stew out of the game she hunted in the afternoon and made herself comfortable next to Bucky.
 “Wh-what are you doing?” His face flushed at their close proximity.
 “It’s below freezing outside. If you want to survive, you’ll need my body heat.”
 Bucky nodded and slowly allowed himself to relax before realising something.
 “Wait! James isn’t here! Shouldn’t he be inside with us?”
 Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness toward the animal.
 “James will be fine. Wolves have adapted to centuries of this kind of weather. He has his own little spot to sleep in nearby and he can do whatever he wants to do.”
 Bucky was a little relieved to hear that.
 “Tell me more about your life here,” he prompted.
 “What’s there to know? It’s life in the Alaskan wilderness. I hunt, I stock up on supplies, and I sleep at night...”
 “Well then tell me about Agnes. I’m sure you must some stories about her...”
 Y/N regarded him carefully for a moment.
 “Alright... but only if you tell me about you in return. You read my file back at... wherever you came from, so you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name.”
 “James Buchannan Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky.”
 Y/N let out a soft laugh, unable to believe the coincidence.
 “James and James... I guess I will have to call you Bucky to avoid confusion,” she smiled.
 The pair of them spent the night swapping stories and getting to know each other better until they eventually fell asleep. That night for the first time in a long time, Bucky had a dreamless sleep.
...
 Time went by and eventually a month had passed. Bucky and Y/N had formed a strong bond with each other in what was beginning to feel like love. Y/N wondered if this is how Agnes had felt with her husband.
 Then one day, it happened. Y/N was in her storage shed when she heard James snarling and barking. She ran out to see a helicopter appear a moment later, landing in a small clearing nearby. Bucky hobbled out of the house at the commotion. Although his injury was healing nicely, he still had some more to do.
 A few men exited the chopper and headed over to the two of you. You called James to your side to keep him from attacking the strangers but he was still on edge.
 “Buck... good to see you,” one of the men wearing a uniform went to Bucky and hugged him. Bucky hugged back.
 “Good to see you too, Steve. How’d you find me?”
 “We tracked where your jet went down. I’ve been searching for as long as I could ever since. Finally caught a break today when we saw the smoke from the chimney,” Steve replied, nodding over to the house. “Who’s this?”
 “Steve, this is Y/N. She saved my life...”
 Steve looked at her for a moment.
 “The same Y/N who went missing a decade ago?”
 “The very same...”
 “Buck, can I talk to you for a minute?”
 The pair of them went out of Y/N’s earshot but whatever they were saying, it was argumentative. After a few moments the pair walked back to her.
 “Y/N, how would you like to come back with us?” Steve reluctantly offered.
 “I... I can’t...”
 Bucky looked at her sadly.
 “I have James to think of.”
 “James is... a wolf?” Steve asked.
 “He’s not just a wolf. James is too used to humans. He’s vulnerable and a prize for hunters around here. I can’t just leave him.”
 “I see...”
 “Steve, can we have a moment alone?” Steve nodded and left the two them to have a little privacy.
 “You could stay...” Y/N said softly.
 “I wish I could but I can’t. That punk needs me... like James needs you.” His eyes filled with tears as did hers.
 “I... I really hope I’ll see you again.”
 “I do too, doll.”
 Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Y/N kissed back, holding him as close as she could. Eventually air was needed and they pulled away. Bucky gave her a communicator to keep in touch, telling her to call him if anything happened. Only after the helicopter disappeared out of sight did Y/N allow herself to cry.
...
 Six months later, Bucky finally heard back from her.
 “Hello? Bucky?”
 “Y/N! Is it really you?”
 “Y-yeah...”
 “Is everything okay? You sound upset...”
 “Um... James... passed away...”
 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry...”
 “I... I had been expecting it for a while... he hasn’t been well for days. I found him this morning. Can you... can you come and take me away? I don’t... I don’t want to die alone out here...”
“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
...
 It took a lot of convincing but Bucky was allowed to go and collect Y/N. He had marked the coordinates of her cabin on a map and went there as fast as he could.
 The moment she saw him, Y/N threw herself into Bucky’s arms and sobbed. Bucky held her close and rubbed her back.
 “It’s okay, doll. I’m here now. I’ve got you. You’ve done your duty to Agnes and laid James to rest...”
 The pair stood there for a while until Y/N had calmed down enough before heading to the transport. As they flew over the Alaska wilderness, Y/N took one last look at the place for ten years she called home. She held Bucky’s hand, ready to start a new chapter of her life.
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Daenerys Stormborn, Part 2: Wake the Dragon
Oh hey, I have part 2 already! Guess my brain is really focused on Dany now. In part 1, I talked about Dany's arcs from AGOT to ASOS, exploring the narrative and thematic purpose of her journey. However, the most important part of her journey occurs in ADWD, and sets the stage for some incredibly exciting developments to come in TWOW. For part 2, I'll be talking about the gradual transformation of Daenerys into a slightly different, darker character for the future.
Breaker of Chains & Mhysa
Slavery has been an important background element throughout Dany's time in Essos, even in AGOT, but it becomes front and centre in ASOS. She accepted the Dothraki, a society that uses slaves for many things, and wasn't too perturbed at the use of slaves in Qarth. However, it is in Astapor where she finally realizes just how bad the institution is, as she tells Xaro:
"Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" I was a beggar queen and you were Xaro of the Thirteen, Dany thought, and all you wanted were my dragons. "Your slaves seemed well treated and content. It was not till Astapor that my eyes were opened."
As mentioned last time, ASOS is when she begins to take control of her destiny, and she does so by beginning a revolution to free the slaves of Slaver's Bay. She believe she has a greater destiny lying ahead of her, that there is a reason for her dragons, the red comet. She also has great empathy for people and sees this disturbing injustice being played out with nobody to stop it. But she has the power to do so, and thus she begins by going fire and blood at Astapor, killing the Good Masters and freeing all the slaves. Afterwards, she leaves the city with a ruling council of a priest, a scholar, and a healer and moves to Yunkai.
She does a different approach with Yunkai, negotiating with the Wise Masters to surrender their slaves and to leave them in peace. And then when she arrives at Meereen, she decides to stay and rule as its queen. This is where things begin to get difficult for Daenerys. The ruling council of Astapor is overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who said the council was conspiring to bring back slavery, who declares himself King of Astapor, enslaves the children of the former Good Masters to make new Unsullied, and tries to ally with Daenerys against Yunkai, who has resumed slavery.
Daenerys is not interested in any war with Yunkai. The reason she stays in Meereen is exactly because she learned what happened when she left Astapor. The fire and blood approach didn't work. You can't just dismantle such a deeply engrained system so easily. So instead she opts to rule, and protect the people she can. While a lot of readers view Dany's actions in Meereen as pointless, the whims of a naive girl, and poor leadership, I actually think it's the opposite.
For starters, Dany realized that she can't simply burn the slavers to end slavery, but she needs to stay and instill changes. While King Cleon repeatedly begs for Daenerys to join the war against Yunkai, she refuses, and warns Cleon to not do such a thing. She turns out to be horribly right, as Cleon is killed, Astapor is sieged, before being slaughtered, burned, and sacked, to be reinstated as a slave city once more. Likewise, the Yunkish siege Meereen, first by creating a blockade in the bay with ships, and then by having armies amassed outside the city walls.
In addition, refugees from Astapor begin to pile up outside the city, and a deadly plague called the pale mare (for the horse from Astapor that arrives at Meereen) begins to sweep the starving Astapori freedmen, who begin to resort to cannibalism to survive. Dany blames herself for leaving Astapor a mess, but does not wish to have the same thing happen in Meereen. She wants to protect the people she's freed, not just from the Yunkish, but herself as well.
When a sheepherder brings the burned bones of his daughter, Hazzea, who was killed by her dragons, Dany has Rhaegal and Viserion chained in the dungeons below the Great Pyramid to prevent them from causing any more harm. However, Drogon is still loose, unable to be found. In addition, when the sons of the harpy, a terrorist group opposed to the emancipation of Meereen, begin massacring freedmen, Dany decides to raise a tax on the Great Masters and have all families of suspect loyalty send a child to serve as a hostage and cupbearers. Yet, as the killings continue, she has grown close to the children and decides not to have them killed.
Now, some of you may notice that I am taking a lot from the Meereenese Blot essays written by Adam Feldman. That's not only because they are really well written essays, but ones that GRRM himself has approved of.
"I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention."
So I am retreading some of the ground Feldman has laid, but it's important to do so if I am to build up to what I think is going to happen in the future of Dany's story.
As Feldman notes, Dany's own actions (or in the case of the cupbearers, inaction) actually made a peace possible, because the Yunkish saw that she was someone who is capable of mercy and not a (in their eye) violent mass murderer. Knowing what happened with Astapor, and seeing what happens when her dragons are unleashed with Hazzea, Dany decides to make peace with the Yunkish and marry Hizdahr.
Under the peace, Meereen itself would remain a free city, but the Yunkish would continue to sell slaves. They even sell them in markets outside the walls of Meereen, which displeases Daenerys extremely. In addition, slaveowners could bring their slaves into Meereen without fear of them being freed, and the Yunkish promised to respect the rights of the freedmen in Meereen. Yet, despite the peace and the progress made, she feels as though this is a defeat.
This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?
The thing is, Daenerys has had to sacrifice so much of herself and her morals to get to this point. Yes there is peace, even if it is tentative, Meereen would not be sacked by the Yunkish, but slavery is still going on, and she thinks that she has let herself and other people down by agreeing to peace and allowing the Yunkish to continue slavery. She has agreed to peace to people she loathes and thinks are despicable, she has married a man she does not love and does not love her, she has chained her dragons in the pit below, she has allowed the fighting pits to reopen. This comes to ahead at Daznak's Pit when she is at the height of her discomfort.
The boar buried his snout in Barsena's belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd … I cannot breathe. She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.
And then Drogon arrives, and in the chaos of him attacking the boar and being attacked by the soldiers in the pit, Dany tries to calm him, but he spits fire at her, and she tries to tame him by whipping him into submission. Here, Dany is quite literally fighting herself. She herself in this moment represents the Queen of Meereen, someone who desires for peace. Meanwhile, Drogon represents the dragon inside her, who wants to unleash blood and fire on her enemies. In the end, Dany climbs onto Drogon and they fly away together, which foreshadows and symbolizes Dany's later decision to choose being the dragon.
Despite her frustrations in Meereen, the peace was a good first step. Not to say that it solved every issue, it didn't, but that doesn't need to be the end of it. Daenerys could forge new peaces, new agreements, and if she stayed in Meereen, she could implement great changes throughout Slaver's Bay. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. The peace that was forged is now gone. Next comes war.
The House with the Red Door
Before we move on to Dany's final chapter and what that means for the future, we must take a look at a very important part of her backstory which is one of the main elements of her own story. Sure, destiny, greatness, prophecy, power, and identity are themes with Daenerys, but at the center of it all is the desire for home. Dany was born on Dragonstone, but was whisked away to Braavos, and there she lived in the house with the red door, with Viserys, Ser Willem Darry, and their servants.
To Dany, the house with the red door was the only place in her life she called home, and she has very fond memories of it, of Willem, or the lemon tree. But after Willem died, they were kicked out and forced to become beggars on the streets, selling off their possessions and travelling the Free Cities. The red door was closed and gone forever after, but the dream of having a home hasn't.
Daenerys has a desire for home, for love, for family. Throughout her childhood, Viserys would tell Dany all about Westeros, how they need to take back the Iron Throne, that the Seven Kingdoms were the most beautiful lands in the world. And sure enough, soon, Westeros represents the idea for home and belonging to Dany.
"I pray for home too," she told him, believing it. Ser Jorah laughed. "Look around you then, Khaleesi." But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.
Although she takes on the mantle as the new head of House Targaryen and carries on Viserys's dream of taking back the Iron Throne out of a sense of duty, she also does so for desire to belong in a place she can call home. It's a nostalgic feeling she gets of the old days, that she wants to relive again.
But then other ambitions get in her way. She frees the slaves of Slaver's Bay, and decides to stay in Meereen to try to ensure that her revolution succeeds. Thus, her quest for home is put on hold. Throughout ADWD, she gives up parts of herself, to try to become one with the Meereenese; marrying Hizdahr, reopening the fighting pits, chaining her dragons, dressing in the Ghiscari fashion, and making peace. But in the Dothraki sea, hundreds of miles outside Meereen, she finds that she wasn't being her true self, that she can never be the Queen of Meereen, or become a true Meereenese.
I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home. Except it wouldn't, not truly. Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.
The series is all about the human heart in conflict with itself, and Daenerys in ADWD is one of the best examples of that. She was struggling with her two competing titles of Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, but in the end she was not comfortable with being the Breaker of Chains. This final transformation she undergoes in the Dothraki sea really sets the tone for what she will do in the future, and how she will change as a person and character.
Mother of Dragons
Daenerys X is one of the more bizarre chapters in the series, since it follows only one character alone with her thoughts, but it works extremely well as a character study, and the development over the course of the chapter is one of my favourites in the whole series. Through all the hallucinations and visions and dreams Daenerys has during this chapter, it's important to remember that they all (apart from possibly Quaithe) are her, so the discussions she has are with her own internal thoughts directly.
The topic of Targaryen madness reoccurs throughout the series, but it's ADWD where it is brought up the most. Now, the topic of Targaryen madness will be another post i will do in the far future and won't discuss in depth today, but the matter is that Dany is aware of some of it, even if she hasn't fully accepted the truth of her father. She fears that she is succumbing to the madness at points.
"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe. A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once.
Later, she implies this fear again to Barristan.
I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now." "And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?" "I am only a foolish young girl." Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "But not so foolish as to tell you that. My men shall look at these ships. Then you shall have my answer."
But in an early version of Daenerys III, the answer Daenerys gave was "myself". She fears what would happen if she "woke the dragon", as Viserys put it. She's afraid of succumbing to the madness that consumed her father and probably was consuming Viserys. She's afraid of what would happen if she unleashed her dragons, how many innocents they would kill. But in the Dothraki sea, she begins to question her decisions, starting when she woke up after finding blood between her thighs:
"I am the blood of the dragon," she told the grass, aloud. Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark. "Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …" Dany could not recall the child's name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. "I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons." Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.
The importance of this quote cannot go unnoticed. She thinks about Hazzea all the time throughout the book, feeling deeply guilty about what Drogon did to her. But here, at the end, she cannot remember her name. The in world explanation is that, of course, she is delirious from being in the wilderness eating berries and being sick, but thematically this is her slowly turning away from the people she freed. Next comes a dream with Viserys (long quote incoming):
She dreamt of her dead brother. Viserys looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes. "You are dead," Dany said. Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. "I loved you once." Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. "You hurt me. You frightened me." Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. "You sold me. You betrayed me." No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger. "You could have had your crown," Dany told him. "My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited." I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me. "You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake." Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo's khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead. "You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …" I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon's eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I'd had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words. Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth.
The dream terrifies Daenerys, but once again, Viserys (really herself here) is telling her she is stalling in a place she doesn't belong, that she needs to go home, that she should embrace being a dragon. The climax of this comes right after she realizes Meereen would never be her home, where she argues with Jorah (again, herself):
Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy. Never, said the grass, in the gruff tones of Jorah Mormont. You were warned, Your Grace. Let this city be, I said. Your war is in Westeros, I told you. The voice was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Dany felt that he was walking just behind her. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest, but she knew that if she turned around Ser Jorah would be gone. "I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost." Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side. "You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold." For home. Home was all I ever wanted. "And me. You wanted me." Dany had seen it in his eyes. I did, the grass whispered, sadly. "You kissed me. I never said you could, but you did. You sold me to my enemies, but you meant it when you kissed me." I gave you good counsel. Save your spears and swords for the Seven Kingdoms, I told you. Leave Meereen to the Meereenese and go west, I said. You would not listen. "I had to take Meereen or see my children starve along the march." Dany could still see the trail of corpses she had left behind her crossing the Red Waste. It was not a sight she wished to see again. "I had to take Meereen to feed my people." You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. "To be a queen." You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. "It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. "Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.
And here is where everything changes. She has spent time trying to protect innocent lives, to make peace, not war, to be loved and accepted by Meereen. But here, she decides that it is time to do away with that. Meereen is not her home, Westeros is, and it's time to wake the dragon and burn Yunkai. No longer will she be burdened by the idea of a cost of innocent lives, no longer will she fear herself, and no longer will she linger. When the time comes, she will burn her enemies and leave for Westeros.
I need to make a few things clear here, however. For one, I don't think she's mad now, this is just her resolving her internal conflict. For another, I don't care what she does to the slavers. They deserve what's coming for them. She will still care about the innocent, but she's now going to go full-blooded Targaryen and burn cities to the ground, and this will mean massive collateral damage she will try to rationalize away.
Daenerys has now transformed into a different, much darker character, which I feel will continue to define her for the rest of the series. She is now the Mother of Dragons, in her entirety, and Essos is about to bleed and burn. I really appreciate how GRRM put this together, and that she didn't stay fire and blood after Astapor. His character development is realistic, and sometimes the development is not linear. In part 3, I will be discussing predictions about Daenerys's arc and story in TWOW, more specifically what she will do in Essos.
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eirikaanemo · 3 years
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My Celebrity Childhood Friend
Warnings: minor character death, sad feels
Venti x GN!Reader
2k Words
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Many years ago, when you were eight years old, you had two very close friends. Their names were Venti and Himmel. The three of you did everything together. You were very close. All of you thought your friendship would be forever and that you would always be close. But, unfortunately, that's not what happened.
One day you and Venti received the news that Himmel had passed away. It was really difficult for both of you to accept the reality of his death, grieve, and move on with your lives. In the end, you couldn’t even help each other. Spending time together only reminded you of how Himmel wasn’t there anymore.
Eventually Venti just couldn’t take it anymore. So his family moved out. Losing Himmel had hurt, but losing Venti too reopened the almost healing wound in your heart. He didn’t even say goodbye because he thought he’d chicken out if he did. And so there you were, friendless, hurt, and feeling very, very alone.
Your only solace was in practicing the piano. The three of you had all been learning instruments and playing together before. The idea was to become a band of sorts together and play music professionally. Himmel played violin, Venti played guitar, and you played piano. Playing the piano was all you had left of them, so you continued playing and practicing it.
Years pass and you move on as much as you can. You make new friends and try new things. Piano is still important to you but you do new things now too. But even with all of this, there’s a part of you that left with Venti and Himmel. The hurt in your heart is no longer a gaping wound. Yet the pain has never truly gone away.
Then one day you hear a familiar voice on the radio. That voice and guitar combo sounded very familiar. It was a good song and you enjoyed listening to it, but you just couldn’t get the feeling of familiarity out of your mind. However, once the radio host introduced the song, you immediately understood. “And that was Soaring Bird by The Bard. Venti really did himself proud on this one…,” they continued, but you were no longer listening.
Venti was on the radio! What could this mean? You hurriedly took out your phone and ran a search. There he was, Venti, also known as The Bard, is a singer/songwriter who rose to fame after a stint on a television talent show a couple months ago. Well, what do you know? Your childhood friend has followed your childhood dream.
Part of you feels left behind, but you accepted that had happened years ago. So instead you decided to be supportive! Suddenly you have a new favorite singer and you just have to have all his albums. Physical copies, so you can display them. Your bedroom walls are covered with posters.
You now have more The Bard themed t-shirts than you have regular shirts. There’s a concert of his you can go to? You’re there. You promote him with everyone you know. If you hadn’t converted your friends to the truth of Venti supremacy they probably would have gotten sick of your antics by now. Instead they’re almost as invested as you are.
When he finally releases a new album you are thrilled. It’s been almost a year since he released his last one and you’ve been starving for new content. You are first in line to the store to buy the album and listen to it as soon as possible. Track one through four are fantastic and you enjoy them a lot! But then track five starts to play.
It’s more melancholy and nostalgic than other songs he has written. And then you hear the words. The words touch your heart, soothing and healing some of the pain that has remained. At the end he takes a moment to dedicate it to his childhood friend, to you. Not by name, but you know what he means by “my old childhood friend”. You’re tearing up.
I’m sorry I was too blind to see
That you were suffering as much as me
You were left behind, I was moving on
And you were left to carry on
It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair
That I chose to just leave you there
We’re not really close now, are we
But I just want to say I’m sorry
You listened to it over and over again, crying in your room. Maybe it was stupid but that was something you didn’t even know you’ve been wanting to hear for years. Knowing that he felt bad about leaving you behind and hearing an apology from him meant the world to you.
And it just so happens that the song he dedicated to you is your friends’ new favorite song. If they didn’t know about your history with him before, then they sure know now. You’re still struggling to not cry every time it plays. Sure, maybe some of your dirty laundry was now being aired all around the world. But that wasn’t important.
What was important was that your heart was finally able to heal. You were truly able to feel happy again, for the first time since you were eight years old. Life had color again. There was more of a bounce to your step. Your friends noticed that your smiles even seemed more real now.
So when you learned that Venti would be doing an album signing event, you just knew you had to go. And you knew just which album you wanted to have signed. Now all you could think about was getting the album signed. How would he react to seeing you again? Would he recognize you? You really hope he does. It would really hurt if he doesn’t.
All of a sudden you’re now worrying if this is a good idea at all. Your friends managed to convince you to go, but you were really close to not going at all. And even now that you’re here at the signing you’re half considering running away. But instead you steel your courage and get in line.
You try not to think about it as the line slowly creeps forward. Making small talk with those around you in line might help, but you’re too nervous to even try social interaction. You’re twentieth in line, then tenth, then fifth, then second. Now it’s your turn and you approach the table he’s sitting at to sign the albums.
He’s wearing a white button up shirt, green slacks, and a green beanie with a flower on it. He’s dyed the tips of his braids teal and wears some light makeup to bring out the color of his eyes. You suddenly feel very underdressed as you anxiously walk up and hand him the album.
“Hi Venti,” you say softly. “It’s good to see you again.” He looks up sharply and freezes for a second, wide eyed. “Oh my gosh!” He exclaims, jumping up out of his seat. “It’s so good to see you again! It’s been so long!” You smile, feeling more comfortable and sure of yourself now that you know he recognizes you.
Someone behind him clears their throat and sits back down. “I can’t really talk right now,” he admits, sheepishly. “We don’t want to hold up the line, but hold on a sec.” He opens the album and scribbles something on the inside of the opaque cover. “That’s my number,” he whispers quietly to you. “Text me later, okay? I’ll get back to you when I can.”
You nod and move on, only realizing he didn’t actually sign the case until you were down the hall from where he was signing. Laughing a little, you sit down on a bench and pull out your phone. That was such a Venti-like thing for him to do. Sometimes he would get so excited that he’d forget what he was supposed to be doing.
Opening your texting app, you typed in his number and sent him a message.
You: Hi! Is this the right number? I’m the one you wrote song number five about.
It took a couple hours for him to reply. Which is very understandable considering how he was probably signing albums for a while.
Venti: Yes! This is the right number! It’s so good to hear from you again :)
Venti: And I’m so glad you heard that song
Venti: I really am sorry about leaving like that
You: I won’t lie and say that it’s fine, because it really hurt that you left like that
You: But I really appreciate your song that you wrote for me. I cry every time I hear it
Venti: Oh no! I didn’t mean to make you sad :(
You: Happy tears, Venti. They’re all happy tears
Venti: Oh, okay, that’s good :)
Venti: Want to come eat lunch with the staff and me?
Venti: They’re all really curious about you
Venti: The mysterious childhood friend I wrote a whole song about
You: Sure! How do I find you?
Venti: You don’t! Where are you? I’ll send someone to pick you up ;)
You send him your location and wait around for someone to come pick you up. After a while a nicely dressed woman approaches you and gestures for you to follow her. She leads you to a car and drives you to a restaurant. A waiter takes you to one of the closed off rooms for group events.
Approximately two seconds after the door is closed, you are hug tackled to the floor. Venti cheerfully cheers your name right into your ear. You grumble good naturedly and swat at him until he laughs and gets off you. He offers his hand, you take it, and he helps you stand up. Some chuckles from the staff tell me they’re just as amused as he is by the situation.
This sets the tone for your lunch. It’s lighthearted and you have a great time getting to know each other again. He introduces the staff and they admit they’ve been curious about his childhood friend he wrote a song about. You enjoy eating lunch with them a lot, and all of you are disappointed when you have to go.
You continue to chat as long as you can while preparing to leave. As you’re gathering your stuff to go, you come across the album that he never actually signed. “Oh yeah,” you laugh. “Venti, you never actually signed my album!”
“Whoops! I’ll sign that right now.” He declares. “Though I must admit that I feel a little awkward signing stuff for you.” Finishing writing with a flourish, he hands the album back to you. “But I guess I better get used to it,” he continues. “You better bring the rest of the albums next time!”
Your smile is so bright that he has to squint for a moment.. “I’m looking forward to it already.” You say. “See you later?” He beams right back. “Yep! I’ll let you know the next time we can meet up!”
The grin stays on your face all the way home.
You meet up whenever you can after that, though your schedules don’t always match up enough to allow it. Video calls are common when he goes on tour. It’s like the two of you never split. And eventually your friendship becomes something more.
“Hey, could I ask you a question?” Venti asks you over a video call one night. He’s acting a little funny, nervous with a dash of hope and excitement. “Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like a date?” You chuckle, amused. “Venti, you’re on tour right now. It’s not like we could go out to dinner or something.”
“You’re right that we can’t go out to dinner together, but we could eat at the same time over a video call! I’ll even call and order food for you or something!” Venti plans. “Sure,” you agree. “I think I’d like that.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!” He shouts. “I’m gonna make this the best long-distance date ever!”
And so he does.
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papergirllife · 4 years
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Bitter/Sweet Drabbles
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The way he smiled at her, the way their chemistry made fans of both fandoms cheer made you worry. It’s common for artists to have stages with each other, especially if they took on emceeing jobs or during award shows.
You weren’t angry, nor disappointed in any way. But the way they were smiling at each other made you nervous. You always had a very serious case of insecurity, it started ever since your ex started cheating on you, you hadn’t dare to leave the relationship, until you confronted him, then he left you permanently, only leaving a huge scar on your heart. You hadn’t known that the wound would reopen until today.
When it all became too much for you, when SM announced that he’ll consider taking on the role, you went to look for his co star’s account on instagram, and she’s so beautiful, Jaehyun is way out of your league, you knew this from the start. Yet she’s at the same level of beauty as he is, what if he finally sees that he made the wrong choice? And leaves you for her?
Then you found a short clip of a fan pointing out that Jaehyun panicked when he received a text from someone during his birthday live a few months back, you looked at it a hundred times to see a sunflower emoji saved as the contact’s name. But you were most definitely not the sunflower emoji. So who was it?
You could feel yourself panicking as you laid down on your shared bed with Jaehyun, has he shared this bed with anyone other than you? You try to bury your thoughts as you switched on some random movie on netflix, yet your heart wasn’t really into anything that’s happening on the screen.
“Y/N? Y/N?”
You woke up to the voice of Jaehyun calling for you, it was a Sunday, and he just got back from another inkigayo episode. You soon felt his arms wrapped around your tired body. You tensed up when he did so, flinching at his touch like fire being burnt on your skin.
“Are you okay, Y/N?”
“I think I’m just feeling a bit cold from the constant rain, I’ll be fine, you can go get dinner with the boys, I want to sleep.”
“Oh, okay. Should I get you some medicine now?”
“There still some in the cupboard. I won’t be needing any.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah.”
You successfully avoided his eyes, the eyes that make you want to give him the whole world if you could, the eyes that would send you into cloud nine, as well as a painful death over the cliff.
Once he left the door, you cried and cried even though you didn’t really know what you were crying for at this point, until you tired out yourself, slipping into slumber.
Jaehyun could sense something was wrong when he woke up to find that you had left his embrace, when he clearly remembered that he pulled you against himself as close as possible, and when your hugs were short and tensed. He finally decided to ask when the both of you sat down for lunch, when you finally came out of the room saying you had lots of work to do.
“Is something up, Y/N?”
“Nothing, why would you think so?”
“I feel like you’re a bit distant these days.”
“I’m just busy.”
You weren’t looking him in the eyes when you answered him, instead your eyes were trained on the plate of noodles in front of you, suddenly finding them very interesting.
“You’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not, Jae, it’s going to be month end, I just have lots to fix before passing it up to my boss.”
“Look at me then, look up Y/N, stop avoiding my eyes.”
When you did as he said, Jaehyun was shocked to see how tired and swollen your eyes were, and he had only seen you like this once, when you got out of your last relationship. 
“Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, babe. Why have you been crying so much?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing.”
“I’m just insecure okay?!”
You hadn’t meant on lashing out at him, but your emotions had been running high these past few days. You could see the shock in Jaehyun’s eyes, the realisation that it was your doing, made tears leak at the corner of your eyes.
“I’m sorry, it has nothing to do with you, it’s just me”
Then you rushed into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.
Jaehyun was trying to decipher what you had said, were you back with your ex? Are you leaving him? Are you still conflicted on who to be with? Jaehyun laid down on the couch after clearing up the plates, not knowing what to do.
When you heard complete silence outside your bedroom, you sneaked out and laid a blanket on top of his sleeping figure.
That very night after having dinner with his members, Jaehyun tried his bedroom door once again, finding that it was unlocked. He went in to see your sleeping figure, so beautifully peaceful unlike earlier that day, what did he do to make you so distressed? What if your ex was looking for you again? Would you choose that trash over him?
Jaehyun sat next to your sleeping figure, his hand brushing away hair that was stuck onto your cheeks by your dried tears. When you woke up with such hurtful eyes, Jaehyun could feel his heart clench.
“Can I ask you something, Jae?”
Your voice was croaky from all the sleep, but you didn’t care, you needed to know now.
“Who’s the person you saved as a sunflower on your contacts that contacted you during one of your v lives when you were showing your phone to your fans?”
“What are you talking about? That’s the florist shop that I buy your flowers from, their shop’s logo is a sunflower and their name is very long, so I was lazy to type it out, and put the emoji instead. The reason I was worried was because they sent a text to confirm my order being sent to this address. You didn’t trust me?”
You looked up to see Jaehyun sporting hurtful eyes at what he was suspicious about, you let your gaze fall back down on your hands clasped upon your thighs, emitting a loud sigh.
“It’s not you that I don’t trust, I don’t trust myself.”
“What do you mean, Y/N?”
“What I mean is that I don’t have enough faith in my plain old looks and boring personality to keep you interested in me for forever.”
Jaehyun’s feelings went from being hurt, to being heartbroken, not for himself, but for you. The words you said had such heavy feelings that his broad shoulders sagged, he thought you were suspicious towards him, but it was self doubt. When did this start again? He thought he had brushed all your worries from your past relationship away, is he the source of all your insecurities now? 
You got up and walked inside the connected bathroom, standing in front of the mirror to look at your own tear stricken face, too emotional drained to even bother putting in the effort to wipe them away.
You looked back at Jaehyun who sat hunched on the bed, his own tears crinkling at the corner of his own eyes. You didn’t know what are his feelings towards you are now. Anger? Disappointment? 
“I’m sorry, Jaehyun.”
Your voice rang loud and clear as the echos bounced off the walls of the bathroom towards the bedroom, letting it ring into Jaehyun’s head a few times. He heard it loud and clear, shaking his head, not wanting you to apologise when you’re most clearly not in the wrong, but he couldn’t utter the words yet, a lump in his mouth as his head spins.
“I’m like a broken mirror, no matter how much effort you use to put the pieces back together, I’ll still be broken.”
You felt more tears escape your eyes as you said this, you knew the truth all along, but you still let yourself love another being, even when you knew how heavy your emotional baggage weighs.
When Jaehuyn heard what you had said, he made himself force down the rock in his mouth, you’re not broken, no one is allowed to say that, not even yourself. He walks to the bathroom, and pulls you into his embrace, out of the cold and empty toilet.
“A mirror will never be broken Y/N, they reflect the same thing at different but all very unique and beautiful angles, that’s how you see me, you’re the only one who sees each and every one of my sides but yet you choose to stay next to me.”
Jaehyun knew what he had to do to heal your aching heart when he first met you, he swore to himself that he’s never going to give up. He knew the weigh on his shoulders wouldn’t be an easy fit, but as long as he’s standing tall, there will always be a place for your head on his shoulders, right now, tomorrow, and many more days to come.
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forsakenoathkeeper · 3 years
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I Am Alive (chapter 5/?)
Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content
Synopsis: You were a mechanical engineer, now a nurse for androids, who moved back to Detroit after the revolution to offer aid. After reconciling with an old friend, you became rather acquainted with his android partner.
Please support me on AO3 & thanks for reading ♥
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Connor wasn't oblivious to what he was doing.
'Rogue' was one word that came to mind; but, that was a bit extreme all things considered. He wasn't acting against the police and he didn't intend to commit any crimes, especially heinous ones.
He was hunting the android alone, without clearance, without jurisdiction.
-not like this was the first time.
He had intel that the human detectives didn't have. A good lot of them didn't respect him, some more obvious than others, and often disregarded his input on things. Of course, they were never hesitant to let him take the lead when dealing with dangerous individuals or gunfire.
Most of the time, it didn’t bother him.
Fowler saw him as a competent detective and needed the manpower, now more than ever. Hank trusted him with his life and stood up for him. That was all the recognition that Connor needed.
Having to work alone wasn’t all that terrible. He was faster, stronger, more capable of discretion... usually. He didn't have to worry about putting someone in danger or being slowed down. It also meant that he could-
-bend the rules in ways that only androids were capable of.
The other detectives were hung up on the possibility that Evelin Wheeler was murdered by someone she had crossed in her days as a lawyer. Connor had found seven cases that ended with death threats. Three of those cases, the plaintiffs or victims, were still alive and living in or near Detroit.
While other detectives were investigating those potential leads, Connor took to the streets to see if he could locate Robert. Maybe it was his programming talking; but, Connor was suspicious of the android.
Clouds were heavy and dark in the sky, the smell of approaching rain thick in the air. Connor was waiting outside of Haven in a nearby alleyway, perched up against a crate where he could duck back into hiding or lean out and see into the street.
He was standing near an abandoned warehouse that seemed to have suffered structural damage at one point, rubble having collapsed into the plot nearby. The towering structure was an eyesore and provided good cover for the detective. It was also across the street from Haven.
Connor fumbled with his coat pocket, fishing out a coin. He rolled it between his fingers as he waited.
You had been texting him, a very welcomed distraction from the monotony. Though, if Connor was being honest, waiting never bothered him. He couldn’t quite tell if it was because his android, a part of his programming, or just the way he was.
"u know u dont have to" was your latest message, popping up in the top right corner of his HUD. You had trouble getting your car started this morning and had taken a taxi to work. When Connor found out, he asked if he could give you a ride home.
"If I'm being honest, it is not just for your sake. I want to see you" he texted back.
It had been a little over week since he last saw you. Work had been hectic for you both, between countless damaged androids and Connor knee deep in multiple cases, one in particular that was rubbing him the wrong way. Even if he only got to sit in a car with you for thirty minutes, that would be good enough.
"i miss u too" your reply came in. Connor smiled at that and briefly pondered how to reply.
When people were 'an item', what did they do? Attending a restaurant together seemed to be the most common answer that came up in his searches; however, considering Connor did not require sustenance, and lacked the components to dispose of them, he couldn't eat.
Surprisingly, ‘drinking’ came up a lot, too. There was no way he was taking you to a sleazy bar. There were always clubs. Did you like that sort of thing? He didn’t want to make assumptions about your lifestyle. There was the added concern that Connor didn’t know if he could dance. He had never tried it before.
'Walks in the park' also came up in his searches; while Connor was not easily perturbed by the weather, you likely would find it far too cold outside. The local movie theatres were closed down temporarily due to the uprising, leaving that option out, as well.
He could invite you over to his apartment; but, what if you took that as an unwanted suggestion? He missed you in that manner, maybe more than he cared to admit; but, he didn't want to give the impression that it was all he cared about.
Connor's LED was blaring yellow as he internally argued with himself. He aggressively shifted his coin from one hand to the other and flung it high into the air with a flick of his thumb.
Humans did this - 'heads or tails' - so he tried it.
When it fell back down, he snatched it from the air, opened his palm and glanced down. The coin had landed on tails. Connor glared at the harmless nickel disk for not giving him the results he wanted.
Okay. Maybe he was thinking too hard.
-maybe he just needed to go for it.
"I want to treat you to something. If you would like that?" Connor messaged you.
Likely caught up in something, you didn’t reply immediately. So, Connor began rotating his coin again, rolling it between his fingers, flicking it back and forth between his palms. He had no idea where this quirk came from: if it was programmed into him or some bizarre string of code that manifested itself. He could do it without much processing power, making it rather relaxing.
"if you wanna? u dont have to do anything like that" your message popped up on his HUD some time later.
"Is it weird that I want to?" Connor messaged you back.
"not at all" you replied. He read it in your soft voice and found himself feeling bashful. He felt weird, like he wanted to do things for you - unnecessary things that you were perfectly capable of doing yourself.
"theres a park i loved as a kid. we can go when it warms up?" you offered.
"I would like that" Connor replied.
A thought came to him, something that he chided himself for: he had hoped for something he could do for you, now, not later.
But, then-
"until then i like ur apartment" immediately came in afterward.
Connor gawked at the message like an idiot for a moment or two before he snapped out of it. Maybe you had read his mind... somehow.
He had no need for a TV because he could get all the news on the interface in his processing unit. He didn't have a need for many dishes for obvious reasons and only bothered to keep the fridge plugged in in case Hank brought something over. His apartment was severely under furnished by human standards.
Suddenly, he wanted to change that.
"You are welcome anytime" he replied. "I'll make sure its warmer this time"
Your reply came fairly quickly; but, Connor didn't see it.
Movement caught his eye.
An android was approaching Haven, not that that was anything new. However, he dressed in a dirty hoodie and torn up pants, ankle-high work boots matching what Connor had seen in Evelin Wheeler's home, the correct height and stature for the model type seen in Louis’ memories.
Connor slid the coin back into his coat pocket and focused his optical sensors on the android. He couldn't get a good enough look from this angle to see into the propped up hood.
The detective waited outside while the other android crossed the threshold into Haven.
Markus wanted to do things the right way. Connor respected that.
It meant that he would inform Robert the police were looking for him and try to encourage him to speak with them. If he was innocent, that meant he had nothing to hide. But Connor knew that Robert would likely attempt to flee, even if he was innocent.
The android was inside the building for eleven minutes and some odd seconds before he stormed out the front and trotted down the street. Connor didn't waste any time taking up pursuit. The android had some haste to his steps, but wasn't running. Still, Connor knew he would lose him if he dawdled for a second.
Rain began to fall, beginning in gentle sprinkles that coated the concrete and asphalt in faint specs. Connor could feel the rain like gentle taps against his outer skin. It was useful: the noise made it harder to properly hear the sounds of their footsteps. That potentially risked the chance that Connor would lose Robert; but, it also meant he was less likely to be detected.
He needed an empty, quiet place where he could interrogate him. But, Connor also was well aware of the fact that he didn't have backup. If the android proved to be more dangerous than he anticipated, he would be alone and at great risk.
-again, this was nothing new.
Connor recognized the route Robert was taking. He was heading for the industrial district's harbor.
It wasn't abandoned. Factory work had resumed, albeit with struggles considering the android workforce had been lost. However, people were trying to return to normal life. They needed to; and so, the ports reopened and shipments starting to flow again.
The detective continued to stalk behind the android for miles, paying no mind to the fact that he was steadily growing farther and farther away from where he had parked his car, nor the fact that he was getting soaked by the rain.
When they arrived at the harbor, Robert took a path through a rundown building that was likely once a communication hub for a business that went under decades ago. It was longer than a direct route, but provided cover, less any of the human workers at the nearby plants spotted him.
In following, Connor realized that abandoned shipping containers were piled up outside. The rust and erosion patterns suggested they had been here a long time.
At the end of the row of containers, another building, a steel hub right at the edge of the water. Normally, these were open, designed to be for receiving and sending shipments, unloading. However, someone had taken the time to board it up.
Robert entered through a hastily cut out hole acting as a doorway.
Connor knew this was the end of the line. He was going to have to face Robert here.
He took one, careful step past the threshold, and realized there was an echo. That alone made it near impossible to continue sneakily. When Connor stepped forward, he felt something scan him. It was harmless, a perimeter censor: the kind of motion detector that could pick up android's serial numbers with a quick scan, and send alerts to the programmed android. It was, essentially, an intruder alert.
The detective turned his head to the adjacent wall. Sure enough, there it was, the size of a quarter, at head level, eyeing him.
He was intrigued that Robert had taken the time to setup defenses here. It wasn't particularly deterring, just a simple alarm that would prevent him from being snuck up on. Connor could hear Robert's shoes loudly squeak on the floor. He was pacing, probably deciding his next move.
Connor continued, turning down the hall and stepping into the main hull.
When Robert spotted him, he took a few steps back, maintaining distance between them. Connor took up a firm stance, feet shoulder length apart, arms crossed in front of him, hands cupped, like a soldier might stand.
"Why are you following me?" Robert called out, sounding more annoyed than anything else. The echo in the room was loud, creating an obnoxious tremor around them.
"I wanted to talk to you - ask you a few things," Connor replied calmly.
Robert was silent for a moment, eyeing Connor suspiciously. "You're the detective android," he said lowly.  "I heard stories...” Robert looked him up and down. “You're not as intimidating as I expected."
If that was intended to insult Connor, all it managed to do was make him curious. What kind of images had Robert conjured in his mind of the android detective?
"Why haven't you removed your indicator?" Robert asked in a manner that was almost taunting. "You think we're equal to humans, don't you? Why wear something that sets us apart?"
"It doesn't matter to me if people know I am an android," Connor answered, maintaining his passive tone. It wasn't entirely the truth. Sometimes, he wanted people to know he was an android. He was once frightened by the idea of deviancy; now, it felt like a badge of honor. Maybe, he was prideful: he was the first detective android to join the force, and the last and only of his model.
"You work for the humans - against us," Robert accused. “What makes you think you have any right to stand with us?”
"I don't work against androids. I work against murderers," Connor proclaimed. He could see panic flash behind Robert's eyes. But, the android was quick to compose himself. "-human or android," Connor added on.
Robert opened his mouth; but, Connor, growing tired of this pointless banter, decided to be direct.
"I'm here because I believe you killed Evelin Wheeler."
"Who?" Robert asked, his head tilting to the side. From his lack of concern, Connor couldn't quite identify if he was being sincere, or just didn't care.
"An elderly woman who was being cared for by an android," Connor elaborated robotically.
Robert shrugged. "What makes you think I did that?"
"I saw you harassing the android living with her," Connor answered, tone lowering.
Robert settled a firm glare on Connor. "Harassing? I wanted to help him be free."
Connor kept his stoic expression, eyes unyielding of his emotions, LED strong blue. "I'm glad you remember them," he replied lowly.
The detective could see some stress rise in Robert. He wasn't frightened by Connor. He was growing steadily more and more angered by him.
"Then, surely you-"
"He was delusional," Robert interrupted sharply, clearly insulted. "Called her 'family'. I had to help him. He was being controlled by that human. I set him free."
"He was free,” Connor corrected him. “You hate humans. That's what it is. It has nothing to do with justice.” He maintained his persona: a cold, calculating detective.
The other android didn't seem to like that word. "You still elevate them above us, you hypocrite!" Robert snarled. "Don't talk to me about justice."
"Human or android, you killed an innocent woman in cold blood," the detective said lowly, letting his stare darken slightly.
"Where's your proof?" Robert challenged.
"Your shoes match the impressions at the crime scene," Connor stated bluntly. "You also were seen harassing the family-" Robert twitched at the word. "-a week before the murder. That's enough circumstantial evidence to obtain a warrant for your memories for that night."
"Where's your w-warrant, huh?" Robert challenged, his voice faltering slightly. "Why am I not under arrest, yet? You have nothing!" Robert shouted, his voice echoing around the chamber.
Connor narrowed his eyes slightly. "742-11-904, you are under arrest for trespassing on private property-"
Robert suddenly shifted and charged at Connor. Being a unit designed for industry work, he was bigger than Connor, bulkier with a wider frame and greater weight capacity; but, Connor was agile, flexible, and designed for combat. He avoided his assault with ease, but wasn't able to counter. His back hit the wall and Robert continued down the hallway past him.
Connor took up pursuit, finding that Robert took a different path out. He chased him into the harbor, out in the open, where security lights shined down on them. Workers from a nearby plant were perched on a balcony on the second floor. Connor could hear their surprised murmurs, "what the hell - you see that shit?"
Chain link covered the edge of the dock to act as a barrier to prevent falls. Connor contemplated pulling his gun on Robert; however, trespassing wasn't an offense worthy of firing, and he had yet to obtain the warrant he needed for the murder case. Pulling his gun would have been a one-way ticket to suspension, or likely worse.
Robert wasn't made for this. Connor was going to catch up to him. The android likely knew this. He had to take a path that Connor wouldn’t follow. He climbed the chain link, reaching the top before Connor got to him, and dived over the edge, straight into the harbor. The splash was drowned out by the rain tapping on the metal roofs nearby.
Connor looked over the edge to where the dark waters lapped at the concrete platform. Naturally, he couldn’t see anything through the murky water. He sighed, placing one hand on the chain link to lean against it.
"Well, so much for that," he groaned to himself.
It was unlikely that Robert could stay submerged for long, even less likely that he would surface here. He wasn’t going to return to this hiding place, nor Haven. Connor would have to find him through other means.
The rain started to pick up, sprinkling morphing to heavy droplets. Connor's eyes adjusted to lighting, or lack of, naturally. He was too focused on finding Robert that he failed to realize the sun had set. The time was normally hidden on his HUD as it was intrusive, distracting. He didn't need sleep. He didn't need rest. He could theoretically go days without a break.
When he brought the time temporarily back into view briefly, he realized it was 7:17. Your shift ended at 7 tonight, and he had promised he would be there.
"Shit!" he cursed out loud, swiveling away from the fence.
As he trotted away, shoes making wet sopping noises on the concrete, Connor started a message, "I'm sorry. I'm going to be a little late".
Before he sent it, he realized that he had missed your previous message.
"hold u to eet" you had replied. It was in response to his promise that the apartment would be warmer next time. But, it also struck him as a painful reminder that you had placed trust in his ability to get you home safely, and in a timely manner.
The rain continued to pick up until it was pouring down, like tiny rocks pummeling his body. It didn't hurt, but it was exhausting. He had fucked up, twice. He failed to capture Robert and now he was delaying you.
Instead of sending that message, he decided to call.
It rang once, then twice-
"Oh - shit - are you here already?" you blurted into the phone as soon as you answered.
"N-no, I-" he stammered. "I'm going to be late. I'm sorry."
"Actually - that's fine. I got so caught up in this thirium shipment, I didn't realize what time it was," you explained, sounding out of breath. "I was afraid I was keeping you."
"I wouldn't have minded waiting," Connor replied, feeling some relief at your words.
"No - don't say that," you scolded gently. "Don't take bullshit from anyone, Connor."
"Ugh-" he stammered. Did he take bullshit from people? Maybe he did and he just didn't care most of the time. Was waiting for you bullshit, anyway? He didn’t need to sleep, afterall.
"Working late, too, huh?" you breathed into the phone.
"Field work," Connor replied lowly.
You chuckled into the phone. "You know I can take a taxi if you're-"
"No, I-" he interrupted sharply. "I want to see you. Please."
"Connor," you breathed into the phone.
His phone wasn't a handheld device. It was an interface build into his processor. He could hear you directly in his head. Even through the slight distortion created by radio signals, the sound of your voice still managed to do something to him. Maybe he underestimated how badly he missed you.
In the background, Connor could hear one of your coworkers, "ooooo - who's Connor?" teasing at you in a purposely obnoxious voice.
You laughed quietly. "My boyfriend," you answered.
My boyfriend-
For some reason, something as mundane as you telling people that, made him really happy.
There was some shuffling noises, likely you moving around and trying to balance something in one hand and your phone in the other.
"Is he cute?" a different voice asked this time.
Connor was prepared to eavesdrop on this conversation in full; but, after some loud shuffling, you came back, speaking into the phone properly. "I'm gonna let you go, now - get this finished up - oh shit it's raining - let me know when you're in the parking lot?"
"Understood," he replied automatically, a habit. Plus, if he was being honest, he was disappointed.
"-and don't stress about it, Connor-" you added on hastily.
Fuck that-
-as soon as you hung up, Connor was running to his parked car.
120 notes · View notes
tirednerd2012 · 3 years
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How about this idea: Ian is walking home from school one day and he gets kidnapped by one of barley's rivals wanting to take revenge on him or something and barley goes on a quest to save his little brother.
Bonus scene: while barley is struggling with the rivals, Ian manages to reach his staff and casts a spell at them and it saves barley, but Ian blacks out and he later wakes up in the hospital with barley and his mom beside him and Barley starts comforting him and have a brotherly moment.
Get ready for some angst with this one! Here you go! This will be the last one for the night. More to come tomorrow!
Barley was a lot of things. His mother and brother would call him loyal, annoying, exciting and overly protective. His friends would call him chill and a great dungeons master. His enemies, however, would call him a jackass or something of the sort. Just depends on the perspective.
The person who probably hated him most was his ex, Drew. He managed to avoid him. While Barley knew damn well he would never forget everything that man put him through, but he tried to move past it.
Especially after he crashed into the van, knocking Ian and Barley out and kidnapping them. He was going to kill Barley, but Ian insisted on taking his place. There was no changing Drew’s mind. He knew how much Ian meant to Barley and he knew that Barley would want nothing more than to protect Ian from him.
Barley still couldn’t sleep at night without hearing Ian’s screams and Drew’s laugh. He stabbed him, but apparently he survived. The wound wasn’t fatal and he was able to get to the hospital in time. Meaning someone was helping him, but Barley had no idea who.
Ian Lightfoot was walking home from school. Barley was working on his online classes and it was a nice day, so he decided against the bus. He texted his brother that he was on his way home and continued to make his way. He was about halfway there, on an older street that not many people lived in, when a car came speeding by.
Drew stepped out of the car. With a gun. Ian reached for his staff, but remembered he didn’t have it. He never took it to school.
“Well, well, if it isn’t little Ian. It’s been awhile, man,” he said. Ian went to run, but it seemed that Drew was reading his mind. “I wouldn’t do that. No one really lives in this neighborhood. I can shoot you.”
“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Ian snapped. Drew walked over to him and yanked his bag and jacket off, revealing the scars from Ian’s last encounter with him.
“I’ll admit, that was pretty brave, what you did for your brother back there,” he said. Ian froze as Drew smiled at him. He hated this guy. He wanted him dead. Ian cursed his name more times than he could remember for what he did to Barley. He remembered checking in on them after Barley didn’t come home to see him choking the life out of his best friend.
“What do you want?” Ian asked, but his throat felt tight. Drew paused, looked at him with cold eyes before quickly grabbing a fistful of his hair and then slamming his head hard against the car. He collapsed and Ian felt the gravel on his cheek and his head spin. He couldn’t process a single thought, except his wrists being tied behind his back, a gag in his mouth and then his ankles tied.
Drew lifted him up without much effort and tossed him in the trunk of his card like he was nothing.
Barley looked at the clock. Ian texted him three hours ago saying he was on his way home, now he wasn’t answering his phone at all. He drove around everywhere looking, but there was no sign of him.
Worry and anger were building up in the oldest Lightfoot brother when Ian’s picture popped open on his phone. He grabbed it and answered within the first ring.
“Ian, where are you?”
“Sorry, babe, Ian can’t really come to the phone right now,” Barley fell over and landed on the chair when he heard that voice. His heart skipped a beat and he grabbed at his chest.
“Drew.”
“Who else?”
“Where’s Ian?” he demanded. Don’t be afraid. Don’t let him see you afraid. The video turned on and Barley saw Ian in a large dragon cage with a dead bolt lock on it. He tried to look at the background for clues, but couldn’t find any. He had no idea where Ian was. He felt his hands shake and he had trouble keeping the phone steady.
“Alive, but that’s about all I can give him,” Drew responded, indifferently. The camera focuses on Ian, desperately trying to get out of the cage. His forehead was bleeding and several of his scars had been reopened. “Say hi to Barley, Ian.”
“Barley, I’m okay. Whatever he wants, don’t give him!” Ian said, but Drew laughed and kicked the cage, causing Ian to fall in it. He grabbed a key, unlocked it and then dragged Ian out of the cage. Barley could tell from the position of the phone that Drew climbed on top of Ian.
“Hey, babe, does this look familiar?” he asked as he brought his hands around Ian’s neck. He began choking him.
“Stop! Stop. Drew you got me, where are you? I give up! You win!” Barley cried. He didn’t stop. He choked Ian out until his brother fell unconscious. Then he checked.
“He’s still breathing,” Drew informed him. “You have about, I dunno, it took us 3 hours to get here, you have 4 to get him before I kill him.”
“He has nothing to do with this, Drew. Please, if you’re going to kill anyone, kill me,” Barley offered. This was his mess, not Ian’s. His brother got involved because he loved him and wanted to protect Barley from this bastard.
“I could, but we both know this is much more painful to you. If you fail, his blood, your little brother’s blood, will be on your hands, Barley. If you get anyone else involved, I’ll kill him on the spot. I have nothing to lose, but you sure as hell do.”
With that, the phone call ended. Barley stood there for a second, stunned. Three hours to get wherever they were. That meant he had an hour to figure out exactly where that was, or he would be too late. There would be no room for error.
“I’m coming, Ian, I promise. Just hang in there.”
Barley, not proud of this part of the rescue mission, first threw up. He darted to the bathroom and felt all the stress turn to nausea. Then he panicked. One wrong move and Ian could be killed. His brother's life was in his hands.
He thought about Ian, alone, knocked out somewhere with someone who wanted to hurt him, and Barley is at least 3 hours away from him. He couldn't protect Ian and it hurt every fiber in his being.
Wait. Ian's laptop. He had it connected to his phone. Maybe he could find the phone's location on it. He ran up the stairs and went to Ian's desk. He looked up at the picture Ian took of the two of them at the park on day, hanging up on his wall. Then he shook his head. Focus, Barley.
He opened the computer, no password, and looked up the Find My Phone App. Sure enough, he found a location. Three hours away, north. He would have to pass the Manticore's Tavern (Maybe Corey would blow some shit up after he got Ian out?)
No, Drew said not to get anyone else involved. He had to listen, otherwise Ian would pay for his mistakes more.
He looked over and saw Ian's staff. It would be nice for Ian to have something to protect himself with. He grabbed it and his keys, left a note for his mom saying he'd be home soon, and then left. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he opened up a message.
Drew sent him a picture of Ian's back now covered in fresh cuts. Barley had to wipe his tears away to prevent from going off the road. He was going to kill Drew. Nothing would stop him this time. He would make sure the bastard was dead.
Was Ian awake? He must be scared out of his mind. He was just walking home from school and suddenly snatched away with the underline promise of death?
Barley drove as fast as he could. He gave it all he had in his van. According to Maps, Ian was in the middle of the woods. Barley could park the van a little bit away and take the rest on foot. That would give him the advantage of surprise. The only thing that truly mattered was getting Ian out of there as fast as possible.
He would need a hospital. If Barley parked far away, he would have to carry him, but that shouldn't be too hard. Ian was light and Barley had been able to carry him since the day he was born.
Barley had memories of Ian since the day he had been born. Who else could he say that about?
No, no, keep it together, Barley told himself. He made the three hour drive in two hours and thirty minutes. He pulled into the woods, grabbed his sword and Ian's staff and took off. He found a cabin and he crept close to it, listening through the backdoor.
"Barley's going to make you sorry!" he heard Ian's voice. While it was clearly pained, he managed to sound strong and determined. Barley tried to pinpoint the location.
"Your brother isn't here to save you, Ian. You're going to die for his mistakes."
"This isn't his fault! It's yours. My brother is the most amazing guy and you're the one who doesn't deserve him. I'm glad you two broke up. He is worth more than you ever could be."
Even when facing certain death, Ian defended his brother.
"You little shit."
Barley tried the backdoor and opened it quietly. He peaked in and saw in the living room, Ian was in the cage glaring at Drew. His back was pouring out with blood and his eyes showed how much pain he was in. He tried to stand strong, but his legs shook and he had to hold on to the bars to keep from collapsing. Drew was too busy enjoying Ian's suffering to see Barley coming out from behind.
He grabbed the guy and threw him away from Ian. He laid the staff down by the cage and went to look for the key when he felt something slice his back.
"Barley!" Ian cried out. Barley spun around and ducked just in time to avoid Drew's aim to his head. The two began fighting. Barley was terrified, yes, but his adrenaline and anger took over.
No one hurt his brother and got away with it.
Ian watched with horror as Barley and Drew fought. Drew was planning for this. He knew Barley would find them within no time. He knew everything to do to piss Barley off enough to get his mind so blinded by anger, Drew could kill him.
Drew managed to kick Barley in the stomach and his sword fell out of his hand. Ian saw his staff and reached for it. He didn't have much energy, and honestly, he had never felt so exhausted before in his life, let alone tried to use magic when it was like this. He didn't know what would happen.
But as he got the staff in his hands, Drew went in for the kill. Barley glanced over just in time to watch Ian's eyes fill with horror and his brother screamed bloody murder.
"No!" Ian remembered an explosion throwing him back, then nothing.
He woke up in a hospital. Most of his body was covered in bandages and he heard soft crying beside him. His mom was there, sobbing, her hands covering her face.
"Mom?" he asked. His throat burned and tightened and for a moment he wondered if she even heard him, but she looked up at him and cried with relief.
"Ian! Oh my God, my baby," she said and hugged him. It hurt, but he would never tell her that.
"What happened?"
His mom recounted the whole story of his kidnapping, Barley rescuing him, only for Drew to try and kill him, but Ian used magic that Barley had never seen before, It took everything he had, but he caused a throwback spell that was powerful enough to break the cage and get Drew away from Barley.
That's when he lost consciousness. Barley stopped the bleeding for all of his wounds before getting his brother to the hospital. He called his mom crying.
"Where is he?" Ian asked. His mom smiled sadly.
"He went outside to get some air. You've been out for hours now and it's- it's been a scary time. You had us so worried," she said, her voice thick with new tears. Ian managed to squeeze her hand just as Barley walked back in. Their eyes locked immediately.
"Ian," he said and ran over to him and hugged him tightly. Ian managed through the pain and found comfort leaning on his brother's shoulder.
"Barley, you're okay," he said, trying not to cry himself. Their mom stood up.
"I'm going to give you boys some time to talk. I need to check in with the doctors."
With that, it was just them. Barley sat down beside Ian and put his hand on top of the one without the IV. He didn't look Ian in the eyes anymore.
"Thank God you're okay," he said. "I'm so sorry, Ian. I didn't think Drew would go after you like that, but I promise I took care of it."
"What did you do?" Ian asked, but then the moment he asked it, he realized. Barley killed him.
"I made sure I took care of it this time," he answered. Then he shook his head. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is the fact you're here, you're going to be okay and you're safe."
Now that he was out of harm's way, Ian allowed himself to go through everything that happened. He was kidnapped and tortured. He was at the mercy of someone who hated his brother more than anything else in the world and the fact he was alive was a miracle.
But Barley saved him. He faced the man Ian knew he was secretly afraid of to save him. And he killed him. Barley, his sweet, lovable, teddy bear of a big brother, ended his life. Of course, he probably would have done the same thing in his position.
"I missed you," Ian said.
"I missed you, too. I'm glad you're okay," Barley said. Ian allowed his head to fall on to Barley's shoulder and in return, felt his brother's arms wrap around him carefully this time. They both cried. "I love you so much, Ian."
"I love you, too, Barley. I knew you were coming, even if I didn't want you to."
"Well, I can't let someone take you from us, now can I?" Barley responded, with a humorless chuckle. For the first time since this happened, Ian truly felt safe. Barley was here. Everything was going to be fine. "I'll never let anyone take you from me like that. Never."
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echonidae · 3 years
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let’s talk commission stuff!
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hey folks !!  so i’ve been reorganizing myself to get commissions back on track, and i’ve got some things i’d like to get your input on, if it isn't too much trouble !! ;v;
it’s a long one, so under the cut it goes sdfghghj
a slightly too long tl;dr because apparently this is a 10min read (i'm so sorry): commission revamp on the works! no date for it yet. gonna be easing myself back with just icons for a while at first (no date for that either thoug, not yet), then the revamp will be in full swing with all the other commission options, and the pricetable for them will be changed in the future as well. 
some questions: 
1) i’m rethinking commission types, is there anything you’d like to see as a new option?  2) considering i tend to open only a handful slots every batch, i'm thinking about implementing a waitlist (with a bit of a twist: it's split between Current Batch and Next Batch; a little more complicated than a regular ol' waitlist, allows me to get through some of the waitlist queue as work gets done). would that interest you or is it too much of a headache? 100% open to suggestions! 3) i’m organizing a board on trello for commission stuffs !! any suggestions or specific things you’d like to see there?
so! it’s already been over a year since i last opened commissions and i’d very much like to get back to them ;o; it’s been way too long! i miss working with you folks aaa
i don’t have a reopening date yet, but i’m planning on opening only icons for a while to ease back into the process. later on, i'll open the other commission options too. you see, i’m working on a full revamp of the whole thing, including the terms of service and that info image with the examples (because looking back, i think it no longer really represents my current style and how i really do commissions in terms of just... plain old rendering and polishing), so i’ll be working on new drawings and a new layout too, and all that good jazz :D
for full disclosure, along with this overhaul of the terms and such, i will be updating prices too c: i’m still working on the new values though, since i need to figure out what commission types/options the overhaul will have. which brings me to the first question here: what would you like to see as a commission option? for reference, here’s the og options:
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(hoo i need to redo those examples *sweats*)
also, one more thing i’d like to note about this revamp situation: there isn’t a whole lot that’s changing really haha it’s just been a long, long time since i last did commissions, so i’m reviewing terms and i might change stuff that’s become outdated, or that needs clarification. if you’ve commissioned me before, the process itself is still the same so no worries! once the revamp is out, i’ll point out anything that has changed too c:
in regards to price changes, those first icon-only batches will be in their original price, and the new prices will only take effect once the revamp with the other options is out. it will be quite a while before until that, but if you have any concerns, feel free to message me any time ! either way, i’ll keep you folks posted !! i guess i also could post the new prices before implementing them, if that helps!
so, moving on! now to the waitlist situation <:3c as in, i’ve never had one, a while back someone asked if i did, and now that i’m reorganizing things, i’m wondering if it would be good to implement one :3c feel free to send any questions !! or suggestions!! i'm all ears!!!
usually i only open a handful of slots for each batch, right, and once they're all claimed, the commissions are closed until all the slots are finished. folks who missed the slots have to wait until the next batch, and sometimes those batches take a while to come back, and i usually just message those who missed the opening once the new batch is announced.
what i'm thinking for the waitlist is, i'll open it along with the batch of commissions, and limit it to a specific number of spots or close it by a specific date, whichever comes first. to apply for it, people would just need to send the form and i can tell them immediately whether or not i can draw their request, and then they'll be placed on the waitlist in the order they’ve been accepted c: pretty standard stuff.
here’s the important bit: that list is basically split in two. the first handful of people on the list, corresponding to the amount of slots for the current batch, will be reached out to as i finish working on the claimed slots, and then anyone else on the waitlist will be contacted shortly before the next batch. if, by the time the list closes, not all the opened slots have been claimed, folks on the list will simply be moved up the queue accordingly c: all of it would be discussed individually, of course, and very well disclosed in the commission info!
there are other points to it as well: anyone would be able to request a spot on the next batch's waitlist instead of the current one, and anyone can leave either list at any point. folks who had already claimed a slot when it first opened would only be able to apply for the next batch's waitlist (to give everyone a chance of getting one), and people on the list, either for the current or the next round of commissions, can be skipped up to a limit if they're unable to continue the order once i get to them.
oh and, before i forget, with the waitlist in place, i think i’d no longer be able to put slots on hold as i used to (as in, before paying the first invoice), as it’d be unfair to folks on the list. in that case, the person would be placed on the list as well if they want to, and contacted as soon as possible : )
also the "up to 2 slots per person" thing would be on thin ice too haha
anyway, this is kind of what i intended to do back then, with reopening slots as work gets finished, but never got around to. i want to make sure i don’t swamp myself with work, but also have it so that folks who want slots have a good chance of getting them, whether for the current batch or the next, as there's only so many slots i can open and work on at once, and time zones and irl things are to be considered too for anyone interested c:
it also makes it easier for me to keep track of messaging folks about new slots and such, and the list would be made public and easily available for consulting too : D more on this later!
so how's this looking? i've never done waitlists before and barely knew how they're supposed to work before starting to reorganize things, so please do feel free to voice your thoughts !! i’m 100% open to suggestions !!! do you think this system would work out for you? any concerns? if anything is unclear feel free to point it out, i'll do my best to explain the process or change stuff that doesn't quite work!!
so!!! now to the very last thing i wanted to talk about ! trello! 
i’m making a little trello board for updates on commission stuff! my commission info page here on tumblr and on deviantart both have this little section for updates on each slot’s progress, but i admittedly didn't do a good job keeping them updated (and constantly updating two things in different places just. kinda sucks.), so i’ve been diving into trello to unify that update section in one place and keep things nice and organized and transparent : ) it would be super useful for keeping track of the waitlist too, if that becomes a thing, or for updates on commission status and such!
so far i’m only testing things out, so it’s looking like this right now (sorry for the tiny image!):
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(the board is lying btw, commissions are very much closed haha) (also if it’s basically unreadable, here’s the upload on sta.sh)
with all those little lists, the “available slots” and “sketch” and “lineart” and whatnot, i would be moving the card along the process : D and adding the appropriate labels, of course
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this way i can have those halfsteps labelled too (working on/halfway through/finishing), since there’s only so many colors i can use without making it confusing (and tbh i’m already not too thrilled about color labels as it is, but it beats typing each individual status, and i’d imagine it’s more readable for folks consulting the list as well)
i really like how this looks so far in terms of organization but i’m unsure if the horizontal scrolling is anything but annoying, specially to folks on mobile (with the way i divide my screen on desktop, it certainly isn’t ideal either), so if you have any experience with that, feel free to let me know your thoughts!! there are a thousand different ways to organize this, and this is all a work in progress too c:
so! anything specific you folks would like to see on trello? i know this is a fairly common tool for commission queues and info and such but i’m super new to this platform, so please feel free to send suggestions! ♥
anyway yeah! that’s it! ;0; !
i’m sorry for the super long post, i’ve just been thinking about a lotta stuff haha i feel like i don’t interact a whole lot as it is, and since commissions are very much a team effort, i do want to get input from you folks on it c: it’s good to get a fresh perspective as well!
thank you so much for reading this far !! let me know your thoughts !!! :D ♥
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chrisnewbie · 4 years
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[Sims 2] How to place lots off-grid using LotAdjuster: Another tutorial with pictures
Sometimes lots just look better off-grid. I’ll show you what I mean using my PSP Strangetown.
Before we begin, we need to download a program called LotAdjuster by Mootilda.
First things first: BACK UP YOUR GAME. LotAdjuster is a safe program but it makes permanent changes to your hood and lots. Please make a copy of your current save file(s) and keep them aside just in case.
From here, we have 4 steps:
1. Identify The Lot and Where You Want to Place It
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This step might seem obvious, but you will learn how to visualize the “spaces” needed to move the lot where you want it. 
For my Paradise Place, only the Beaker House and Newlow House require LotAdjuster to place properly. The other lots will snap on-grid without issue. I recommend placing the others first before Beaker and Newlow.
During this step, do the following: Take screenshots to use as a visual reminder of the lot’s location and changes you want to make. (This entire process requires a minimum 2 or 3 game reloads, so a handy screenshot will save you some unnecessary load time later.)
2. Place The Lot Close to the Spot That It Will Eventually Go
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Because LotAdjuster cannot rotate lots, be careful to place the lot in the same direction as its final location. To keep things as easy as possible, I recommend placing Beaker and Newlow houses aligned with the other Paradise Place lots as well.
When you use LotAdjuster enough times, you can start to visualize how many spaces the lot will require to move. In this case, I spy 10 forward spaces to get the Beaker House where I want it.
3. Close Your Game, Then Open LotAdjuster
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First, locate the lot you want to change.
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Second, under the “Advanced” tab, we can move the lot where we want. For the Beaker House, I initially counted 10 spaces forward.
Third, UNCLICK the “Keep current lot elevation” box. This means the lot will fit itself to the new location’s terrain elevation. Then hit Finish.
4. Load Your Game and Make Adjustments As Needed
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Whoopsies! Guess I was wrong about 10 spaces. Take a new screenshot, close your game, and reopen LotAdjuster to fix the mistake.
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Simply fill in the number of spaces required until your lot is where you want it. It may take a few tries since visualizing the grid spaces is a little tricky, hence my mistake lol!
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Viola! *chef’s kiss*
But wait! We’re not quite done.
5. Once Happy With Placement, Load the Lot to Fix Road Tiles
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So obviously this road looks a little funny. Simply delete the extra road tiles and touch up the terrain paint so your lot looks the way you want.
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Congrats, you’re done! Your lot is now placed correctly off-grid and looks great too!
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**Important**: You should know there is a !! Known Issue !! when placing lots off-grid, such as:
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Anything that enters the lot, including carpools, etc., will initially drive into the lot on the right side and thus look funny like this. Even though we deleted those road tiles, the game still acts as if the road is there and functions accordingly. So neighbours will also wander off on the “wrong side” occasionally too.
As far as I know, this is a visual glitch and does no real harm to your game or lot.
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simplicity1511 · 3 years
Text
Yashahime EPISODE 1 Review
I just finished the first episode of Yashahime and OMFG!!!!!!!
There are so many emotions running through me right now as someone who watched the original series on YTV Bionix. I remember being like 5 and 6 and staying up late to watch it, sometimes even falling asleep before it aired. It’s original air time was 11pm but by the time I was around 8-9 years old, the show started airing at 9pm. 
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I remember asking my aunt to wait up until I finished my favorite show before I went to bed because we were going to the airport that night to visit my cousin who had recently given birth to her second kid and I was tagging along. I remember it being the episode Kohoku regains his memories. Good thing I didn’t miss it but I sure do remember being disappointed that I wasn’t seeing InuYasha and the gang that episode.
Speaking of our boy Kohoku, it looks like he has a new weapon (that is correct, ladies and gents, our boy appears in the first episode!!) However, not adult Kohaku, our itty bitty boy from the original series.
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For those that didn’t get a chance to read the manga, there's an epilogue chapter that deals with the root demon that our gang ends up fighting in the first episode and it appears to have maybe merged with the Tree of Ages. I suspect this because it shows a hole in the tree in the same location as Kikyo’s arrow had been when she shot InuYasha to it. I’m curious to see what shit this root ends up stirring.
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However, the most interesting thing I discovered was not from the episode itself but  from the opening sequence as well as the next episode preview. From the looks of it, it appears as if all three girls have a pearl, Towa’s is Silver, Setsuna’s is Gold and Moroha is Red. Now given the fact that in the original series pearls played a role not once but twice in the series, both in the beginning and end, and they appear multiple times in the opening and ending sequences of the show, we know they're going to play an important role. 
The first time they appear in the original series is when our sexy Sesshomaru was trying to look for Tessaiga. In this case, the pearl was located in InuYasha’s eye and led to the land of the dead which is where we come across the bones of Inu-Pops.
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The second time is when they looked for one of the last shards of the jewel which just happened to have been in the possession of the demon who created the pearl who was also located at the grave of our beloved Inu-Pops.
We also know that this demon had a son who was continuing his work at creating pearls as this is how we learn that his father, who had created InuYasha’s pearl, had already died. The most logical conclusion is the son most likely created the pearls for our three ladies. 
Another thing to keep in mind is that in the opening song, you will notice that at some point Towa’s eye starts glowing, and it has a similar appearance as InuYasha’s did when we see the pearl first appear. We know these pearls have strange abilities and for whatever reason each girl was given one. Given the fact that the girls have no knowledge of their parents, it appears that this was most likely hatched by our boys to help their daughters in whatever way possible. Much in the same way Inu-Pops gave his two swords, Tessaiga and Tenseiga to his two sons to protect them and teach them something even if he wasn’t around to do it.
Now speaking of our boys, Sesshomaru is still as sexy as ever and it appears as if he tries to stay close to the village in order to reach Rin as swiftly as possible. That or he has some teleportation ability we don’t know about but with how fast he moves, he might as well have it.
For those of us who grew up with InuYasha being torn between Kagome and Kikyo and the constant conflict that it caused throughout the series, it was kinda refreshing to see it again and see how they both behaved as adults regarding those emotions
I found Kagome’s handling of it really fascinating because by this point she’s already sorted out her feelings for Kikyo, yet InuYasha still thinks that Kikyo causes Kagome pain which in the beginning she did but Kagome has moved past that pain and she knows who she is as a person beyond just being her reincarnation. 
I think it’s further indicated when we first see Kagome and she shows the twins a kikyo root which is supposed to be good for coughs and fevers. When it panels to Sango we can see the surprise on her face as to hearing Kagome mention Kikyo’s name (you know it was an intentional  reference especially if you’ve read the manga and know what kind of demon Miroku and InuYasha  are fighting). Knowing this, still didn’t keep me from being surprised. I feel like just like the plant, Kagome has come to admire Kikyo’s strength as a priestess, something she’s trying to achieve herself as a Priestess in Training.
The original series dealt with a lot of Kagome’s identity being referenced as Kikyo and other characters trying to erase her individuality as just another copy of Kikyo. Something that Naruku did pretty frequently especially using the feelings Kagome had towards InuYasha against them on multiple occasions using Kikyo.
Just like how in the first episode of the original series where InuYasha kept calling Kagome, Kikyo when they first met, Kagome has to tell off the root demon and clarify that she is Ka-go-me, NOT Kikyo. 
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I really liked all the symbolism this episode had and the references to the original series especially given that Towa ends up encountering a broken seat from a bike in the Feudal Era and as we know Kagome has had her bike destroyed and replaced, many a times throughout the series. 
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The fact that Towa is someone whose been raised in the future by the brother of the woman who travels to the past is very interesting given the fact that she is the daughter of Seshomaru whose InuYasha’s older brother who besides Kagome was the only other person to be able to travel in time.
I’m wondering what makes InuYasha/Sesshomaru’s blood special as it appears as if all three girls were able to travel to the future so if Seshomaru himself had tried going through the bone eaters well, could he too have travelled to the future like InuYasha? 
Kagome was able to travel due to the Jewel of Four Souls and once that was destroyed her connection to the past was severed so I’m curious to see how the past and future end up connecting the three girls together because it was Kagome and InuYasha’s love in the end that reopened the well three years later. However, we know in the current timeline that the well is closed which makes me wonder what kind of fate these three girls share as the Half Demon Princesses (also Princesses of what may I ask?)
On a final note, in both series there are demon birds, the first a carrion crow demon who likes shiny things like the jewel, another an owl who is wise and has knowledge of the past. I suspect that this demon will play a key role in how this story ends up progressing, much in the same way the crow did.
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Being a long time fan of the show, I remember being really sad when the series ended and frustrated when they didn’t defeat Naraku by the end of the original anime run. My head would constantly have ideas of what their future would have been like once the pesky fellow was dead and once I had gotten a computer (at age 11) and I discovered manga sites, I finally got an answer to my question.
Then a few years later, teenage me finally got those last chapters animated. I was finally blessed with my ending so I’ll be real frank with you when I say I was not happy this show was coming. While everyone else was freaking out that Seshomaru fucked someone, I was wondering, what could have caused Kagome and InuYasha to abandon their daughter which would be totally out of character for the both of them especially given InuYasha’s childhood. I doubt he would have abandoned his daughter given having lost his mother at such a young age himself and never knowing who his dad was until much later in his life. He would never want his own daughter to experience the loneliness and struggle he did before he met Kagome, Sango and Miroku.
Now having watched the first episode I can’t say my fears are dissipated for this unwanted sequel series as we have yet to know what happened so the possibility that its a shitty reason for why Moroha is alone is still high meaning the possibly my favorite characters are shit on is still there.
This series means a lot given the time I watched InuYasha my family had recently immigrated to Canada and while most people were into Pokemon at my age, which don’t get me wrong, I was too. 
I was far more fascinated by a girl who travelled through time in a fantasy world where she meets a cute dog demon boy and develops strong friendships, a budding romance and never loses herself. To a little girl who was also in a strange new country of her own, she was my role model. 
She’s the reason I wanna learn archery at some point in my life and helped me to grow to be the strong independent woman I am today.
Even at 24 years of age, this is still my favorite series and I love all the symbolism and references to the old series while also having its own fresh perspective that Yashahime provides. It doesn’t mean that my skepticism has been cured.
When I watched InuYasha, I got Kagome, Sango, Kikyo, Kaede and Kagura (her death is still so beautifully tragic) and now a whole new generation of girls are going to get Towa our leader, the calm and cool collected Setsuna and our charge first and ask questions later Moroha (just like her dad :’). I can’t wait to see how they grow and hopefully how their beloved parents grew.
InuYasha for me was my first conceptual understanding of anime and where my love for it came from. I’m looking forward to seeing how this story progresses. But I won’t be afraid of criticizing it regardless of the good first impression I got.
Also, does anyone else get reminded of Miroku’s wind tunnel when they see InuYasha’s Meido Zangetsuha? Just me?
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Now time to listen to that opening and ending on repeat.
See You Next Week!
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anavkourfic · 3 years
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here’s an excerpt from the scrapped first chapter of no place for firestarters! the only issue with it is that it’s in the wrong pov—originally, i wanted to write this story as switching between lio and galo’s points of view and started out with a galo chapter, then decided to make everything in lio’s pov, rendering this chapter in its current form unusable.
anyway, here it is! 
***
Galo works forty-eight hours straight after the Parnassus falls.
It’s a whirlwind. Galo barely has time to give Lio a celebratory fistbump before they leap into rescue operations. The crew splits up:  Remi, Varys, and Lucia go out into the city to do search and rescue on the crash site; Galo, Aina, Ignis, and Lio stay in the cire to get the Burnish out of the Promatech pods. They free Lio’s generals first, both of whom hug him so tightly Galo’s surprised his spine doesn’t snap, then move on from there.
Galo learns a lot of things in this process:  that the burnish all seem to know and care deeply about Lio, that the pods weren’t designed to be reopened, that even though Heris Ardebeit is helping them with the rescue effort, she still can’t see what she’d done wrong. Ignis eventually escorts her elsewhere, out of range of Lio, Galo, and Aina’s combined fury.
Though, that fury is nothing compared to the look in Lio’s eyes when they get to the first empty pod.
Galo thinks at first that someone has already emptied this one—they have civilian EMTs helping as well, spread out through the engine to cover as much ground as possible—until he sees that the arm and leg cuffs are still closed and intact. They’re thick, so it usually takes monster bolt cutters or the jaws of life to cut them, but these haven’t been touched. It doesn’t make sense, unless someone managed to slip free. Which, also difficult, since the cuffs have been tight enough that it’s hard to clip them without also cutting the person they’re trying to free.
“Did they put in empty pods?” he says, scratching the side of his head. The generator behind them sputters, echoing along with the many others in the cavernous space. “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone–“
“Stop.”
Lio’s voice is sharp, and Galo stops immediately. He sees that Lio’s looking down at the floor of the pod and—oh. Oh. There’s a pile of ash on the floor. Galo’s mind goes back to the cave, to Thyma, and oh. Shit. 
“Serial numbers,” Lio barks, whirling around to where Aina’s helping a Burnish to the stairs of the scaffolding “Do the pods have them?”
Aina balks for a second [Galo would too in her position; Lio looks almost like he did with the dragon, minus the colour palette change and the flaming hair.] but she says, “I’ll ask Heris. She’s in medical, and I’m headed there anyway.”
“I d-didn’t see anything,” the Burnish says. She doesn’t look that much older than Lio, but Galo has no concept of how the Burnish age; they could be twenty, or sixty. “Sorry, boss.”
Lio’s expression immediately softens.  “It’s alright, Alexis, I wouldn’t have expected you to.”
“I want to help,” she insists. Galo notices her legs are trembling; she’s on the verge of collapsing, but she’s still giving Lio a fierce stare. “Please, I want to help–“
“You need to recover first,” Lio shuts her down. “Talk to me again when you’ve gotten some sleep and you’ve eaten something.”
Alexis gives him a noodley salute, and then Aina helps her down the stairs. Lio watches her go, then turns to the pod again. His hands clench into fists.
"Do you need me to get something to write stuff down with?" Galo asks tentatively. "If there are numbers. Or anything else?"
Lio doesn't respond for a long moment, but then he nods once, and Galo runs off.
It sucks. There's probably a stronger word for it, but Galo's brain is too foggy to come up with something more eloquent. So he just mutters, "This sucks. This fucking sucks," as he looks for a notepad.
The pods do have numbers; Heris says they're "for inventory" [Lio's jaw clenches so tightly Galo hears it click shut] and that there's "subject data for each one." Lio logs each number in a pocket-sized notebook, strings strands of caution tape that Galo found in the back of Burning Rescue's truck across the entrance to each pod, to make sure no one tries to step in.
"We need....urns, or something," Galo says to Ignis, when he's taking a water break and explaining the situation."Lio keeps talking about a mass grave, but I can tell he doesn't like it."
"I'll see what I can do," Ignis's face is unreadable behind his sunglasses. He's been assigned the leader of rescue efforts, meaning he gets to deal with all the bureaucratic and organizational stuff that makes Galo dizzy. "There are a few favours I can call in."
When he relays this to Lio, he gets back a "Nothing happens without my say-so," and then, a few minutes later, a very quiet, "Thank you."
Getting everyone out of the core takes up the first twenty-four hours, and then Galo suits up to help with search and rescue. Turns out that a giant spaceship falling out of the sky from several hundred feet can cause damage in a pretty large radius. He finds and frees people in fallen buildings, in piles of rubble, in the cavernous cracks around the Parnassus's launch site. And then there's the non-people related things:  flooding because of burst pipes all over the city, a couple fires from damaged electrical equipment, a terrifying gas leak that nearly causes an explosion by the main medical tents. There's so much damage, and so many casualties, it makes Galo's chest ache if he thinks about it too long.
He sees Lio in bursts—working to help clear ground to set up tents for displaced people and the Burnish, talking with a group of medics from the nearby hospital, giving orders to a mixed group of volunteers and Burnish who are well enough to help. Galo grins and waves to him when he can, feels like he’s walking on clouds when he gets a half-smile and a wave in return.
After two days, Ignis calls all of Burning Rescue into a tent for a meeting.
“The SAR teams from the next cities over came in about an hour ago,” He says. “That means we’re off shift. Seventy-two hour mandatory rest time. No exceptions.”
Galo would normally argue, but the exhaustion’s starting to set in, and the numbers are adding up in his head—two full days of rescue work, ten hours from Lio's dragon to the Promare going back home, a week or so in Kray's prison. Galo's not great at math, especially when he's tired, but however many hours it's been, he hasn't gotten decent rest in a while. And not getting decent rest means he’s nowhere near a decent rescuer.
The rest of the team seems to share the same sentiment. No one argues. Ignis claps his hands.
“Let’s pack up. Galo–“
Galo snaps to attention.
“Sir!”
“Bring me Fotia and his generals. I need to ask them something before we go.”
“Yessir!”
The group disperses. Galo stops by the supply tent to grab a water bottle for Lio, chugs one himself before going out to find Lio and the others.
He doesn’t have to look far. He pushes aside the tent flap and runs directly into something skinny and green. Said skinny green thing yelps and then, with a whirl of motion, Galo's on the ground, flat on his back, and there's a very pointy boot in the middle of his chest. Galo beams.
"Lio! I was looking for you!"
Lio blinks, then seems to realize what happened and leaps back. "Fuck, sorry, sorry." He's still not wearing a shirt, and he looks cold, shaking just a little.
"No, it's fine!" Galo picks himself back up, wincing a little. That didn't do any favours to his bruises from the fight with Kray, or the other fight with Kray, or the time he fell off the Parnassus, or the other time he fell off the Parnassus. [It was a significant pile of rubble.] "Didn't mean to startle you. Do you judo-flip everyone you run into?"
"No," Lio ducks his head, the faint hint of a blush high on his cheekbones. It's cute, actually. Galo's brain short-circuits for a hot sec before he remembers what he was doing.
"Oh! I got you some water," He offers the bottle. "Though, that's probably why you were going in there, huh?"
"It was," Lio takes it. "Thank you."
He tries to open it, but his hands are too shaky. Galo reaches out to help.
"Here, let me–"
"I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself," Lio replies stiffly. The blush has spread to his ears now. He's embarrassed, and Galo would find it adorable if Lio wasn't also so frustrated."
"Doesn't mean you have to," Galo says. "Plus, your hands look pretty busted."
Lio looks down at one palm, torn and blistered. His fingers tense, just a little bit, like he's expecting something to happen.  Galo realizes he's trying to call the fire to his hands, to heal the cuts. There's a flash of pain in his eyes, then he drops his hand and shoves the water bottle in Galo's direction. "Fine."
Galo cracks it open with only a little bit of fumbling. ["Wow, these caps are actually tighter than I thought." "The indomitable Galo Thymos, bested by a water bottle..." "Hey, I can do this, just give me a minute!"] Lio accepts it with another quiet thank-you.
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valwrite · 4 years
Text
leap frog; daveed diggs
masterlist.
summary: rafael casal can’t keep a secret. (read the sequels: hopscotch, hide & seek.)
warnings: possible second hand embarrassment, fluff, mentions of murder, cursing
fic type: drabble
word count: 2366
author’s note:  ahaha, i hate myself for writing this but i also love it, gn. feedback is appreciated! oh, and if i don’t reply to a comment or something, it’s just cause i’m dumb as shit and haven’t figured out how tf to do that yet 🥰
It was official. Y/N L/N was going to murder Rafael Casal.
And, boy, would she make sure it looked like an accident.
The man was a nuisance, a mad man, a big mouthed buffoon. And the reason she now had to avoid one Daveed Diggs at all costs from here on out. Considering Rafael lived just one door down from her made this a challenge, as Daveed had a habit of treating the other man's apartment as a second home.
The trouble began two weeks prior, when, after a miserable night out, Y/N had stumbled into the building elevator, feet aching to get out of her heels and breasts desperate to be freed from their confinement. Before she'd had the chance to press her floor button, a hand slid between the closing doors and in stepped Rafael Casal. The two exchanged glances and greetings before riding up to their shared floor in a comfortable and welcomed silence. Had this exchange taken place three months before, perhaps Y/N would have felt a lot more awkward and intimidated by her attractive neighbor. However, things had changed between them ever since they'd become friends. She'd tag along on nights out with his friends (who'd seamlessly welcomed her in as one of their own) and he'd come round for dinner every time he so much as smelt her cooking from next door. The elevator had reopened and the hallway they shared came into view. That was when Rafa made the proposal she'd end up regretting: “Do you wanna come in for a few drinks?”
She'd accepted because, well, it was free alcohol. The fact that his company was anything but bad was just an added bonus. A few drinks turned into many, even some shots finding their way into the mix of things, as she and Rafa talked the night away: she shared details of the horrible blind date she'd been set up on that evening while he ranted about how insufferably boring Daveed had been, claiming the man hadn't brightened up the whole night after hearing Y/N would not be in attendance at their get-together. She was sure her cheeks had turned as red as they'd felt when Rafa made that revelation.
The real mistake came towards the end of their drinking session and, really, neither of them knew how to explain how or why they wound up locking lips. What they did know was the following: it was a meaningless kiss, both of them laughed right after and it had been the most uncomfortable kiss either of the two had shared in their adult lives. Kissing him, Y/N would later realize, wasn't the problem though. It was what the kiss had unearthed.
“Oh my god, you have the hots for Diggs?!”
In three months of friendship, Y/N had learned three fundamental things about Rafael Casal:  he preferred pancakes over waffles, friendship with him was a package deal that included Daveed Diggs and, lastly, Rafael Casal was the biggest gossip in town.
Any secret, any hook up, any scandal. You name it and it was almost a guarantee that, not only did Rafa know about it but he was the source of it all. So, having him become aware on the fact she had a massive crush on his best friend? Yeah, there was no chance in hell Y/N could ever speak to Daveed again without self-combusting in embarrassment.
Now, back to present times, where Y/N finds herself tiptoeing around her own apartment, anything capable of making noise switched off and her own breathing being the only sound in the living space. Five minutes had passed since Daveed had last knocked at her door, saying nothing but her name yet still managing to put her on edge.
The logical part of her brain told her to open the door, because the poor guy was probably just confused as to why she had suddenly started ignoring his texts and stopped hanging with him and Rafa while they watched the Warriors play. The rest of her brain told her to stay put, wait it out and, once she was sure Diggs had left the building, grab the participation trophy she'd been given back in elementary school and use it to go beat Rafael's ass.
Operation: Avoid Double D was working, much to her own surprise, and she'd even started to feel a little impressed with herself when- thud! - a noise came from her balcony. The door of it lay wide open, much like the book she'd been reading out there before Daveed had come knocking, but the curtains were drawn shut, gently moving with the breeze from outside. Like a scene from a cheesy horror movie, she approached the balcony with caution, reached out to draw the curtain aside and gasped at the sight of Daveed comfortably sat in her chair, skimming through her book- a very, very worn out copy of Emma by Jane Austen - and sipping on her iced tea.
“I... How... What...” There wasn't a coherent sentence to be found in Y/N's brain. “Why are you on my balcony?”
“Well,” Daveed snapped her book shut and discarded it on to the small table next to him, all the while smiling innocently up at her. “I knocked on the door and you didn't answer.”
“So you figured breaking and entering was the only solution?!”
“Hey, hey, there was no breaking involved. Just, y'know, entering.” He stood up, reminding her of how much taller he was. “You're the one that left your balcony door open to the world, I just took advantage of that and jumped over from Rafa's.”
Y/N couldn't help but turn her back on him to gaze over at Rafael's own balcony. A fresh batch of laundry had been sat out to dry on it and Y/N noticed how the only plant Rafa owned had now died, nothing left but a dried up mess in it's place. She then thought of the space between the two balconies and, more importantly, the space beneath them both. Granted, she wasn't living in some top floor luxury apartment but she imagined a seven story drop was nothing short of unpleasant. Yet there was Daveed, all smiles and charms, having just jumped over the space as if it were nothing but some innocent, childish game of leap frog. She both wanted to scold him for being so reckless and praise him for being so brave.
Until she remembered the fact she was supposed to be avoiding him and this, clearly, was ruining any of her attempts.
“What do you need so badly from me that it compelled you to do something as stupid as that?” It seemed to be that scolding was the option she'd chosen.
“Answers.” Oh god no. That's it, time to eBay a body bag and a fake passport.
“Answers to what exactly?” When she was a child, Y/N had always tried to play coy to avoid confrontation. It appeared to be she hadn't changed much with age.
“Do you have any of those blueberry muffins left?” Okay, that was not where she thought this conversation was going. “Rafa ran out of the batch you made him and he's too afraid to ask you for more, since you demanded payment last time, so he sent me over here to charm two muffins out of your pantry.”
“You're in luck. I made some last night.” They could have every last piece of food in her kitchen for all she cared, so long as that were the only thing Daveed wanted from her. Though, she was still contemplating manslaughter when it came to Rafa considering he'd sent over Daveed, knowing fine well why she was steering clear of the man. He was shameless in his meddling.
“So,” Daveed's voice and footsteps followed behind her into the apartment as she desperately aimed for the kitchen area. “how come you didn't answer the door earlier?”
“I was, uh,” I was trying to avoid you because I want nothing more than to bake muffins with you and have you nakedly recite poetry to me and that's an issue because we're friends and you don't even think about me that way. “Shower. I was showering.”
“You hair's not wet.”
“Never heard of a hair dryer? Jeez old man, catch up.” At this point, her hands were clammy from her own nervous sweat but she'd pulled out the tray of muffins and shoved the lot of them over to him. All she had to do was get him out of her apartment, then things would be fine. “Here you go, thanks for stopping by. See you later.”
“Wow, wow, wow! Calm down, girl!” Did he have to smile at her like that? “Why're you trying to get rid of me? I asked for two muffins, Y/N, not the whole batch.”
“Just take them, I forgot that I don't really like blueberries anyways.” If there was an Olympic sport for colossal idiots, she'd have won gold, silver and bronze.
“You didn't answer my question,” Daveed took one step forward and she took one step back, internally screaming as she felt her back bump against the counter. “why're you trying to get rid of me?”
“I'm not!”
“Okay then, why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”
“Because I lost my phone.”
“The same phone that I saw on your coffee table?”
“You found it! My hero!” The body bag was no longer going to be used on Rafa, she was pretty sure she was one more comment away from dying of embarrassment.
“Y/N.” When had Daveed gotten so close to her? And why did he have to say her name like that? Her hand gripped on to the surface behind her and she gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact with him.
“Daveed.” She replied lamely, just begging that he'd turn around, grab the tray of muffins and leave.
“What's really up?” His words were softer and more serious, much like the look in his eyes. “You won't answer your phone, you haven't watched the recent games with us, you won't answer the door to me. I just... Look, if I done something or said something that made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I really miss you though, so does Rafa. So if there's anything I can do to fix whatever I did, just tell me. I'll do it. Anything.”
And now, ladies and gentleman, please buckle your seat-belts and get ready for take off, destination: Guilt Trip.
“No. Fuck, Daveed, no. You didn't do anything. Trust me, it's all my fault. I'm really sorry.” The words tumbled out of her quickly whilst her eyes fixated themselves with staring down at her nervous hands. “I know that Rafa told you and, just, I'm really sorry. I promise, I'm trying to get rid of them, it's why I've sort of been avoiding you. I don't want to ruin our friendship.”
“Rafa told me... what? Who are you trying to get rid of?”
“Wait,” Oh sweet hypothetical baby Jesus, had Rafael Casal not spilled the beans? Did he really not know? “he didn't tell you?”
“I'm confused.” Daveed said, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he continued to gaze down at her. “Was he supposed to tell me something? Wait, did he make a move on you or something? Cause I'll put him in his place if I have to.”
“Technically we made a move on each other.” The words flew out of her before she could stop it and she noticed immediately how his face contorted into a frown. “Not in that way! It was just a drunk kiss that we both regretted.”
“And he was supposed to tell me about it?”
“Huh? No! Ugh, look Daveed,” She'd already made a fool of herself enough, she may as well just round it all off with the mother of all embarrassments. Go big or go home, right? And, well, she was technically already home and with nowhere else to go. “I like you. Like, the way a bee likes honey or the way a dog likes a bone. A lot. But I get it, you don't like me and that's chill but would you please just give me the time and space to sort myself out and get over it so we can go back to being friends?”
“But I don't wanna be friends with you, Y/N.” Well done, idiot. So much for honesty being the best policy. “I mean, I don't know how I feel about being compared to honey or a bone but I do know how I feel about you. I think you're smart and beautiful, and stubborn and kind of a dork. And I really like it, you. I really like you.”
“Oh.” Oh? Oh?! Fucking oh!? That's all you can say to that. She couldn't stand living in her own head-space.
“I'm gonna ignore the fact that you and Rafa made out or whatever and just get straight to the point of asking you on a date. Tomorrow night, seven pm. Wear something easy to move around in.” Gentle fingers tilted Y/N's head up by her chin, forcing her to stare into his eyes. They were warm and welcoming, like chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven and melting with love. “Who knows, maybe by the end of the night you'll finally get a good kiss from a Bay Boy.”
“Why would Rafa kiss me at the end of our date?” At least she could still joke among the shock. “And you more or less just demanded I go on a date with you. No questions were made.”
“If demanding is what it takes,” He leaned down, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. “then so be it.”
Where she'd expected a kiss, she found nothing but empty space and the sight of Daveed picking two muffins out of the tray. Wide eyed and honestly a little confused about what events had just transpired in her kitchen, she watched as he finally headed for her door, suddenly not enjoying the thought of him leaving as much as before.
“Oh, and Y/N?” He was halfway out of her apartment, grinning back at her. “Rafa did tell me, I just wanted to hear you say it yourself.”
He slammed the door shut on the sound of Y/N cursing out the very man that was Rafael Casal.
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