#this is a tie in to my “why i don’t wish to time travel rant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noteguk · 3 years

Text

bad attitude | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though!

— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of.

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry

— words; 7,2k

— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation.

Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;)

Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target.

Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all.

And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved.

Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex.

Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed.

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?”

You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs.

Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”

His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him.

Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.”

With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”

“Not at all,” he complained.

The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?”

Be good?

Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention.

In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss.

It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem.

In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits.

Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening.

Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time.

As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned.

The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.”

He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”

“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."

“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.”

He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way.

Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved.

You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked.

Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.”

Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”

But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history.

Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer.

And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member.

If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.”

Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away.

“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”

“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?”

He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.”

He frowned. “Or what?”

You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.”

Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his.

Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.”

And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.”

You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.”

He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move.

Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking.

“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.”

It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”

“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.”

They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried.

You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.”

He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up.

“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.”

Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.”

He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.”

“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.”

“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.”

“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.”

That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you.

The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped.

What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said.

“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.”

As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.”

And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”

He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.”

You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”

“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?”

A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.”

You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly.

With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”

“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined — when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”

You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.”

“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.”

You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?”

“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.”

“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock.

With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”

“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.”

His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release.

“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”

Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased.

Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said.

“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.”

You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?”

It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.”

You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.”

And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.”

A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?”

He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.”

You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him.

After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that.

“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.”

That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him.

“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.”

“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?”

He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.”

No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you.

Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point.

His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.”

Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”

You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes.

“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.”

With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was.

“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.”

Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside.

“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.”

You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“

“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat.

The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath.

“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.”

Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it.

“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“

“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

De(railed) +18

Summary: The canon episode "Derailed" reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

CW: mommy kink sub! Spencer x dom! female (she/her) reader, cum play, penetrative sex, light degradation, praise kink, light choking (mentioned), edging, calling him a slut (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 6 K (this is the longest thing I've ever written!)

Author's Note: Special thank you to @shemarmooresfedora for reading this for me because I was very nervous about the smut portion. And a very special thank you to @notanotherreidgirl for inspiring this idea! this was my ask so yeah, this is a little out there for me so be kind (*dips into the shadows*). Also I either really hate or really love this title :)

Taglist: You can join the taglist here!

De(railed)

Sitting on the train, headed towards Virginia for the custodial interview, you tried to remind yourself what Spencer said to you the previous night when you dropped him off at his apartment. You had his hands in yours and you could feel him shake with nerves when he spoke.

He told you that he believes in you. Even when you think that Hotch and Gideon are sending you out to the solo interview too early, Spencer believes in you. If only you’d believe a little bit in yourself, then maybe you’d be able to figure out a way off this train, but an armed man and innocent passengers proves that a little challenging.

The man passes the train up and down and you tell yourself to relax. In hindsight, it seems like a horrible series of events that lead to the man shooting the train attendant. You’ve done your best to keep him calm until the police can see him off the train. Looking outside, you see SWAT, local PD, and FBI lined up 50 yards from the train.

Continuing to wave his gun around the train, the unsub rants about wanting to talk to a higher authority. To yourself, to wish that Spencer was here with you. He’d have figured out exactly what was wrong with the man by now. For less than professional reasons, you’re forever grateful that he’s not here- that he’s safe on the other side of the train.

“He’s out of his mind,” the man holding a bottle of whiskey says, “You gotta do something, lady,” he says, taking a swig of his drink. Your eyes dart to him and back up the doctor, the unsub’s psychologist, looking for a way out.

You breathe deeply, hoping that the BAU would come up with a plan. Knowing FBI protocol, you expect them to try to initiate a line of communication. Glancing over at the unsub, you think that he’ll want to talk to someone who looks like they are powerful. That would be either Hotch or Gideon. Selfishly, you’re grateful that Spencer still looks like an underpaid TA with a toy gun attached at his hip.

“No! Please, don’t hurt me!” the young woman screams, trying to release herself from the man, Ted’s, grip. He releases her, throwing her to the ground when his phone rings.

Gideon.

On the phone with Gideon, the man demands for something to be removed. You can’t hear what he’s saying to the unsub, but you place the little faith you have left into hoping your team can save you.

***

His vest is much too big for him.

That’s all you can think of when you realize Spencer is the “technician” that they’re sending in. His tie and shirt stick awkwardly and there is a gap in his shoulders around the vest. The straps are pulled so tight that they nearly fold over. His hands aren’t shaking when he carries the small black box, but his eyes look terrified.

You want to reach out to him, maybe hold his hand or brush the strands of hair that have fallen into his face, but you can’t. You have to sit there and pretend that this is the first time you’ve met him. It’s excruciatingly sick and mildly amusing in an equally twisted way. The first time you’ve come to terms with loving Spencer, you both can very well die.

“I’m here for the chip,” Spencer says, holding his hands up, “the higher authorities sent me,” he claims, feeding into the unsubs delusion. You shield your glance, unable to trust yourself from launching yourself in between Spencer and the man with the gun.

“That’s far enough and drop your weapons,” Ted says, holding the crying woman by her neck, “and take that vest off. I want to see you,”

“I don’t have any weapons. They don’t authorize them for-”

“I said take it off!” the man shouts, throwing the woman to the ground.

Spencer complies, taking off the much too big vest and tossing it to the ground. He holds his hands up, playing the part of the unsuspecting underling well. He reaches out to Ted, showing him the tools that he’ll use to take out the “chip”. You wonder how Spencer will pull it off, but you know he will in the end.

Spencer digs into the man’s skin with the scalpel. You can’t catch the sleight of hand, but you know that’s what he used.

“I have to leave, the higher authorities need the chip-”

“Turn it on,” Ted orders, “Turn it on!” he screams, his voice booming in the small train.

Spencer’s eyes dart to yours thinking of ways that he can get out of here. He looks almost sorry, and you feel a wave of intense regret. The thousands of times you could have said those little words seem so simple now.

“I can’t turn it on,” Spencer says, “I can’t turn it on,” You hate how scared he sounds, and you hate even more how you have to pretend that you don’t know him.

“Why!” the unsub yells, thrashing the gun around, “You’re one of them!”

Thinking quickly when you see him point the gun at Spencer’s face, you jump to your feet. You push Spencer out of the way, terrified that he’ll do something rash. You can’t lose Spencer, not when you’ve hadn’t had the chance to have him yet.

“It needs to be implanted to be activated,” you say, “I know this stuff Ted, I’m a Fed. Only me. Everyone else,Ted is just innocent. Just let them go, Ted,” you plead, “Just let them go,”

“No!” he yells, shooting up into the ceiling of the train, “no!”

The windows are closed, but you suspect that Hotch and Gideon have the train surrounded by now. Spencer moves closer to you, staring at the man as he scratches his upper arm. He drops his hand towards yours and squeezes, like he’s saying sorry and saying goodbye all in one touch. You don’t realize this before it’s too late.

“Doctor Brier,” Spencer says, standing up with his hands near his head, “you’re right, there’s more-”

“Just make it stop!” the desperate man pleas, “Make it stop!”

“I know what it’s like, Ted. The voices, they’ve been talking to you since you were a kid. They don’t stop. I know what it’s like Ted,” Spencer says, inching closer and closer to him, “Leo? Why don’t you let him think for himself?” Spencer says, trying to use the man’s delusion against him.

“Don’t! Stop, you’re trying to trick me!” the man begs, whipping the gun around too close to Spencer’s face, “stop!”

You always listen to Spencer. Whatever he talks about, you listen. From Russian cinema to Star Trek to the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture, you listen to him. It’s not that hard and it’s easy to get lost in his eyes or the way his hands move when he talks. But the seconds leading up to when the gunshot goes off, you’re not listening.

Because without Spencer, there isn’t much worth listening to.

***

Your eyes are squeezed shut so when a large hand hovers over your shoulder you jump at the touch. It takes you all of ten seconds to realize it’s Spencer. You look him over, searching for signs of mortal wounds that will rip him from your clutches, but there isn’t any.

“You’re okay,” you say, wanting nothing more but to kiss him or yell at him, or maybe a mix of the two, “you’re okay,” you repeat, not fully believing it the first time.

“We’re okay,” Spencer says, hugging you tight as you collapse into his arms, not caring if the rest of the team watches.

“I haven’t been fair to you, Spence,” you say, breaking from the hug to caress his face. You stop, holding his face in your hands, soaking him in, “you’re not someone who gets strung along, baby. I fucking love you and you-you mean so much to me. And I hate-I hate that it took you almost dying for me to realize that,” you cry, unable to care anymore.

“You love me?” Spencer whispers, unable, himself to care that they have an audience, “You love me back, but I’m, I-I,”

“Spencer,” you tell him, pausing to kiss him fully, “I,” you plant another kiss, on his right cheek, “love,” left cheek, “you,” forehead.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, looking at you with a proud smirk, “I guess that’s good because, I love you, Y/N. I don’t go risk my life just for everyone,”

“Watch yourself, baby,” you remind him, channeling the surge of pure life that runs through your veins, “you’re in for it later, my darling,” you tell him, whispering into his ear so only he can hear.

***

You didn’t even give him time to breathe before you pushed him up against the wall. Spencer’s hands still held yours, you don’t think that he dropped them since you two safely exited the train. He whimpers through the kiss, his breathy moan only serving to spur you on. His hands broke from yours, clinging to your waist. Spencer tries to peel your clothes from your skin, but he's much too distracted by your lips that travel across his cheekbones and down to his neck. He’s breathless and panting, but you don’t let up. If he’s breathing, he’s alive and that’s all that matters now.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Spencer pleads, the desperation in his voice causing you to pause from your attack on his neck, “I-I, Y/N,” he stutters, feeling empty without your kisses.

“I’m not mad, sweet boy. I’m not mad at you,” you say, laying on a sweet voice as your fingers skim through Spencer’s hair. He’s shaking slightly and closes his eyes, looking like he’s grateful to be alive.

“You’re not, but I wasn’t good,” he whispers, “I wasn’t good for you, Mommy,”

You do everything in your power to keep your composure, but after a day like today, you’re ready to melt into him. He might be the one begging at your feet soon, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s you who's wrapped around his finger. He looks up at you, with his back leaning against the wall; his face flushed pink and marks littering his neck.

“You scared me, Spence. I thought- I just let me take care of you,” you request, dropping your hands from his hair and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him to your bedroom. You’ve made it a habit to go to your place after cases; Spencer claims that the sunlight that dips into your bedroom in the morning is more pleasant than his view of the street, but you know he just prefers your bed and the attention he gets at your place.

“Please, Y/N,” he begs, following you into the bedroom. He’s at your heels and burrowed deeply in your heart, exactly where you want him.

You drop his hands, guiding him so his knees hit the edge of your plush bed. He kicks off his shoes and starts to undo his tie and shirt, but you stop him before he gets the chance.

“Let me do that for you, baby. I’m taking care of you tonight,” you say, feeling your heart swell as he looks up at you adoringly, “Mommy’s got you, my brave boy,” you tell him, your fingers grazing over his cheekbones, his nose and eyes. His eyes close as you continue to draw shapeless shapes over his skin.

“Thank you,” he mutters, saying it like a pray as he relaxes for the first time today, “thank you, Mommy,”

You smile at the name, enjoying how pliant he is as you unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie. His flushed cheeks lead down his equally flushed chest. You place both your legs over his body, hovering over him as you straddle him. The proximity eggs him on and the minimal friction near his pants causes him to buck up words. Mercilessly, you chuckle at his attempt to get off. You want nothing more than to put him out of his misery, but watching him squirm for the tiniest bit of affection— your affection makes you nearly as desperate as Spencer.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you tell him, harshly pulling off his shirt as you nibble on his ear. He whimpers out in desire, already unable to form coherent thoughts even though you’ve so much as kissed him.

You stop touching him, sinking down to your knees before him. Spencer looks down at you, his pupils blown and his hair messy from being pushed up against the wall. His breathing is erratic and unmeasured, but he’s heart is still beating. You smile, unafraid and not caring that it breaks character as you give his thigh a squeeze. You bring his hands to his buttons, motioning for him to unbutton his pants for you.

“I can’t do all the work now, can I, baby?” You question rhetorically, quite self satisfied that he nods eagerly. He quickly undoes his pants, kicking the heavy corduroy trousers near your bathroom door. If the moment wasn’t so tense and erratic, you probably would have teased him for his excitement.

“I want to touch you, please? Mommy” Spencer starts, his hands holding your face as you kneel. He holds your face so delicately and gently, it’s a contrast to the sinful way he’s squirming above you.

“Not yet,” you tsk, slipping your finger under the waistband of his boxers. The bulge in his underwear looks very uncomfortable, but Spencer clearly tries his best to behave under your strong stare. You peel back the underwear and let it drop to Spencer’s feet. His cock, now exposed, is painfully hard. He concentrates on his breathing and trying to remain composed as your fingers travel up his leg and towards his groin.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you coo, grabbing Spencer’s jaw and making him look down at you. He lets pitiful whine at your words, “Come on, make my fingers nice and wet,” you order, sticking out two fingers that he sucks enthusiastically.

“What a good little slut I have, you’re sucking Mommy’s fingers just as if it’s my strap, aren’t you sweet boy,” you say, gently resting your other palm loosely around his neck. You don’t apply any pressure, but let it serve as a reminder of what could happen.

Happily, Spencer sucks your fingers, moaning around them and bucking his hips up in frustration. Marred by impatience, you remove your fingers from his mouth and kneel back down on the floor. Loosely, you grip his cock with your wet fingers. Spencer whines at the friction that’s nothing close to enough.

“Tell me how that feels,” you demand, “Tell Mommy how I makes you feel,”

“I-I feel,” Spencer starts, concentrating intently, but unable to truly articulate the passion you ignite in him, “Mommy, you make me feel so good,” Spencer says, finally finding the words, even though they barely scratch the surface.

“That’s all I want, baby. You deserve to feel good. So let me take care of you, my love,” you tell him, watching as he simpers at your words.

For a second there you let yourself think that maybe it’s calling him my love that prompted his reaction, not the promise of his cock in your mouth. You know after tonight there’s no tip toeing around it anymore: you’re unequivocally in love with him and you’re a little disappointed that it took the pair of you nearly dying to figure it out finally.

Looking back up at him, you abandon your plans for a moment. You kiss him hard. Normally, you’d hate the way your teeth clash against someone else’s and how the kiss isn’t really a kiss. It’s hard to pace yourself when he’s whimpering below you as you grind down hard on his crotch. The fabric of your pants provides much needed friction, causing Spencer to cry out in a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. He paws at your work short, silently begging for you to shed your layers as well.

“Good boys wait,” you tell him, kissing his forehead and sinking back down for the last time. You’ll never be done teasing him, but for now you intend to put his needs first.

“Such a pretty cock that only I get to see,” you coo, running a finger up his length, relishing in how he shudders at your touch. You’ve touched him so many times, yet he reacts each time as if it’s the first. He’s leaking precum as his breathing becomes more and more strained. This is far from your first time with Spencer and you’re well aware of the signs of his release.

Smiling up at him, you lazily wrap your hand around him, giving him the smallest bit of friction and attention that he needs to come. You drop him once he’s close to the edge, his pleading, begging eyes turning glazed over when he realizes you’re taking off your shirt. By the way he’s looking at you, you’d think you’d be wearing your best lingerie. Quickly, you’ve learned that with Spencer you could be wearing your ratty college tee shirts and he’d still look at you like you were dripping in gold.

“Mommy,” he pleads, “I’m a good boy,” he says, no trying to convince himself to hold back from his release, “please Mommy. I’m gonna-“ Spencer says, the flush on his face deepening as he throws his head back in ecstasy. However, he summons enough energy and will to reach out and palm your boobs. You don’t hide your moans as he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger. It only encourages him, but nowhere can you find in yourself to care.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Spencer whimpers, unable to hold himself up anymore and collapsing on the bed. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to collect himself. He comes all over your chest, staining your lavender bralette and looking very proud of himself. Spencer learned quickly as well that coming before you’ve even touched him earns him quite the praise.

“Such a good boy,” you praise, choosing to ignore him coming without permission, “such a messy boy though,” you chastise, squeezing his thigh and crawling your fingers up his chest.

“Mommy, please, I want to make you feel good too. I love you,” Spencer begs, his eyes droopy with exhaustion from the long day and glazed over with his orgasm. His words slur together as if he's drunk off something potent. His eyes meet yours, but flit down quickly. He scans your soiled chest, licking his lips unconsciously as his eyes rank over your breasts covered in the lavender lacy and stained with his cum.

“Do you know what good boys do?” You ask, expecting Spencer to answer the question without hesitation.

“They clean up their mess, Mommy,” he says. In a moment of bravery, he grabs your hand, guiding you to lay down on the bed. He twists his hands around your back, unlatching your bra from your body and tosses it on the ground.

Above you, Spencer lowers his face so his chin barely grazes your chest. His tongue darts out onto your skin, licking up the messy cum that fell on your chest. You place your hands in his hair, gripping firmly. It’s not hard enough to cause any pain, but it’s tight enough to remind him to stay put. Spencer hums contently, lapping up your chest, but keeping his eyes trained on yours. You pull him up by his hair, pieces fall over his blissed out eyes. He smiles up at you, his chin glistening with cum, but looking pleased with himself.

“That’s a good boy,” you praise, pulling him up to kiss him deeply. His tongue swirls around in yours and his large hands cup your face. You can feel him moving in your lap, more and more desperate for attention and friction as you continue to hold him off, “I love you, baby,” you say, hoping that he’ll hear enough times for it to stick and for him to start living his life like he wants to stay alive.

“Just for you, Mommy,” Spencer mumbles, already sucking and marking the valley between your breasts, “Can you? Please?” Spencer asks, still embarrassed, after all these months to put to words his desires.

“What, baby? You need to use your words,” you tell him, scooting up in the bed and smirking to yourself as Spencer practically chases you up the headboard, “You need to tell him what you want me to do, baby,” you say, talking slowly as you rub circles into his skin. He’s still hot to the touch and flushed all over.

“I want to make you feel good,” Spencer begs, licking his fiery red lips that are swollen and bitten from your earlier treatment, “I want you to feel good,” he says, attempting to buck his hips against your legs.

“Are you sure about that, Spence?” you ask, teasing him with your wandering hands. One stays latching in his hair, exposing his criminally bare neck and the other sneaks down to his cock, but hardly satisfies his burning need, “Because it seems like you’re an insolent little slut who only cares if he gets off. Do I need to remind you that I have needs as well,” you chide, increasing your grip on his hair as your lips nip the sensitive skin of his neck. He shudders in response, unable to fully articulate a sentence.

“But you’re lucky, you’re beautiful, Dr. Reid,” you say, dropping his hair and letting his head fall onto your chest. Knowing your expectations, Spencer doesn’t hesitate to kiss and nip along your skin. You feel your panties dampen at the sight of him: his hair wild and messy, his neck marked with evidence of your mouth, and his chest is bright red, somehow still flustered and embarrassed by your affections. You find it bizarre that he still doesn’t fully believe just how head over heels you are for him. He’s too good and pure for this world, and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life reminding him just how deserving of goodness and pureness he is.

“I love you,” Spencer whimpers against your skin, his breath is hot as he pants, “but please fuck me,” he begs, flipping around on his back so you can be on top.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy, Mommy will take care of you,” you remind him, balancing yourself so you can hover over him, “Now, I’d normally want you to be quiet, but I want to hear everything. So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me how you feel, sweetie,” you instruct, maneuvering yourself so you’re lined up with him.

“Give me a second, please,” Spencer asks, pushing himself up so his back rests against the headboard, “You make me crazy, I just need a moment to think,” he says, quietly, staring off nothing in the bedroom. You take the opportunity to grab his hand, that’s gripping onto your floral patterned sheets, and kiss his scars on his knuckles. Some are new and fresh, while others are old, from longer ago than working at the BAU. You kiss them over, as if your lips are able to help the evidence of his physical pain.

“You make me crazy too, Spencer,” You say, growing more and more unhinged as he moves underneath you, “I love you so much, darling,” you tell him, kissing his eyes, lips, nose, anything you can reach.

Slowly, so slowly, you sink down onto Spencer. You watch his microexpressions, but you know how he’ll react. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s willing himself to hold off. He breathes in and out, teetering on the edge. You wait for his nod, for his sign of approval that you can move. He whines and peeks open his eyes. Spencer’s hands dig into your waist, his strong, large hands searching for any skin to grab onto.

“Please move, Mommy,” Spencer begs, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to plead with you to have mercy on him, “I need it, Mommy,” he moans.

“Don’t be greedy, darling. You’ll take what I give you, but don’t you want to make me feel good too, baby,” you ask, guiding his nimble fingers to your slick core. His thumb and pointer finger begin to rub quick circles around your clit. You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you feel the pressure build. Between the heightened tensions of work and Spencer's hot breath against your neck, you know that you’ll come soon. Spencer’s breathy moans get more and more desperate.

“Are you already going to come again, love?” You ask, increasing your pace. His other hand grips your thigh, drawing shapes into your soft skin. Following suit, you match his sweet movements on his cheek. His breath is his shaky as you stroke his cheek lovingly, “Make me come first and then, maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me,” you promise, already knowing that you’ll let him come inside you.

“Watch you disappear inside me, baby. Watch your pretty cock slip inside my pussy. It’s just like you were made for me, darling,” you cry, your voice getting slightly breathy yourself. You watch yourself as his cock goes in and out, red with overstimulation. Spencer’s eyes, littered with small tears, looks transfixed.

“Fuck,” Spencer says, “I’m so close, Mommy. I-I, you make me feel so good. You’re so beautiful, I-I-”

“So needy, you’re so fucking needy,” you say to him. You can tell he’s growing more and more impatient by the moment. His hands lurch towards your chest, pawing at your boobs. Spencer’s sloppy movements bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“So good, so good,” he repeats, his sweaty forehead rests on your collarbone. You pull him up again his hair, relishing in the pitiful moan that he lets out. It’s raw and pure sin, it should make you want to fuck him more, but it only makes you want to love him more.

You’re drunk on him. Drunk on his moans and whimpers of pleasure. You’re drunk on the way his skin sticks to yours and how his hands roam around your body, always finding a spot on your torso and legs that makes you approach the edge closer and closer. You wonder, for a second, if you’re being too hard on him. If you should just whisper that little sentence and let Spencer feel the wave of pleasure.

“I need it, Mommy,” Spencer pants, kissing lined up your chest and collarbone. His face is pressed up against your face and moves up and down as you continue your pace, “I-I, Mommy, I want you to-”

“What do you want, baby? Hmm? Tell Mommy?” You ask, your voice sounding sickly sweet. The noise of moans fills the room, Spencer’s moan akin to whimpers and whines and your’s more like praises and words of approval, “you’ve been such a good boy, baby I’ll give you want whatever you want, my love”

“Please, please let me make you come, Mommy. I need you to come, Mommy. I need it,” Spencer whines, looking up into your eyes and latching onto them in the darkness.

It’s sinful how the filthy words contrast with his sweet, shy tones. He looks so innocent, but enthralling with his face between your hands, but his own hands rubbing small circles on your clit. His moans grow more high pitched. You kiss by his ear, ready to whisper the words of approval that you’ve neared your release.

“Oh god, Spencer. God. You have no idea what you do to me. My sweet boy,” you murmur, pressing Spencer’s face further into your chest. You can feel him heave and his breathing grow more and more unsteady, but he still has enough sense to continue rubbing your clit.

You kiss him, wanting to feel him everywhere when you come undone. Kissing him is desperate and full of gasps of air. His skin is so soft as you slide across his mouth, up his cheeks, and over his jaw. His helpless moans spur you on, giving you the strength and energy to thrust down on him another time before you feel yourself come undone.

“It’s your turn, baby. Come on, sweetheart. Come inside me and maybe I’ll have to call you daddy? Hmm?” you chant, halting your movements to torture him a little longer.

“Please, Y/N. Please let me fill you up,” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse and scratchy from being so vocal, “I’m yours. I love you so much,” he calls out, wrapping his arms around you so your chests are pressed up together. He holds you sweetly and you kiss his shoulders and his neck, choosing to leave a large red welt as a reminder for him.

“You like that? Hmm you like if I call you Daddy and let you fill me up? Come on, Spencer. You can come. Don’t you want to be a good boy for Mommy?,” you say, giving him the permission that he’s been desiring all night.

He tightens his grip on your upper half as he meets his release. Spencer’s strangled moans turn into sweet whimpers as he looks down into your laps. Quietly, you ride him through the rest of his orgasm, letting him come down from his high peppered with light pecks along his freckled shoulders and sharp jawline. Spencer smiles into the kisses, his eyes are shut and his cheeks are dusted with a light pink flush. For the first time today, he looks relaxed and safe.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Spencer says quietly, mirroring your motions and kissing your shoulders and neck as you slow your pace, “Can we stay like this. Just for a moment,” Spencer asks, burning for the feeling of being inside you for even a couple more minutes.

“Of course, baby,” you tell him, squeezing him into a tight hug, “you did so wonderful for me. Such a good boy. I love my sweet boy,” you tell him, brushing the stray hairs from his face. His neck is marked by your mouth and his eyes are glazed with sleep and desire.

“I love you,” Spencer says again, his forehead falling against yours and his breath hitching as you move slightly with him inside you, “and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about today,”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart and then we’ll talk about it,” you suggest, taking the opportunity to kiss his lips as you pull yourself away from his lap.

Spencer doesn’t say much in response, but nods silently. He groans slightly as you separate your bodies and he tries to chase your lips with his as you climb out of the bed and into your bathroom.

“Please come back,” Spencer says, sounding like he wasn’t sure if you’d keep your promise.

“I’m right here, Spence,” you reassure him, returning from the bathroom dressed in an old tee shirt and carrying a warm, damp washcloth and a pair of clean underwear for Spencer.

“Can you please hold me? Please, Y/N. I need you,” Spencer says, reaching out to you in the dark. That’s one request you know you’d never deny.

“Of course, Spence. Just let me clean you up and I’ll hold you,” you tell him, gently dragging the warm towel over his skin. He’s quiet as you clean him up, but his soulful eyes look lost and sheepish, making him look smaller and more vulnerable than he actually is. You drop the towel to the floor, not caring that the water isn’t good for the floor.

You lay back down on the bed and Spencer, like a magnet to another magnet, crawls in close. He’s still undressed, except for the underwear that you gave him. His eyes are droopy and his breathing is still shaky, but steadies out as your hands draw circles on his back. You pull the covers up to his chin, making sure he’s covered before you start what you know all too well is a difficult conversation.

“Spencer,” you croak, “Why did you do that? Why do you think that’s okay?” you ask, still trying to make sense of why Spencer would risk his life like that so recklessly. You hold him tighter, squeezing his arm as he breathes out, ready to tell you what he’s never told anyone before.

“Bec-, because- I don’t matter,” he says, the words choking out between cries of years and years of pain, “because it doesn’t matter to anyone if I don’t come home. I don’t have anyone to come home to,”

“You’ve always had me,” you say quietly, “I’m your person to come home with, Spence,” you tell him, hoping with all the faith in your body that he’ll believe you. You hold his hand, weaving your fingers in his. Looking at your hands intertwined together, you’d think that your hand was made for it. It’s a little cliche, but Spencer is the kind of man that makes all those cliches seem like wonderful possibilities.

“I-I, I never had someone before,” Spencer says, “I mean, I had my mom, but it’s gotten harder. But then, then, I met you. And I never thought you’d like me like that, Y/N. I never thought you could love me,”

“Spencer,” you say, twisting around so you can hold his face in your hands, “Spencer, I love you. You are so much more than your job. You’re worthy of being loved, Goose. And I’d spend the rest of my life making you realize this”

“You want to spend the rest of your life- the rest of your life with me?” Spencer asks, sounding like he can’t believe the words that you say.

“Spence, I’ve loved you since I’ve known you,” you say, dragging your hands through his curly hair that’s matted against his forehead, “You would have realized that if you weren’t too carried away with making me your future history,”

“I think I have a habit of doing that,” Spencer confesses, kissing your forehead sweetly, “You’re- I’m sorry that I worried you like that, but for so long, for so long this is all I’ve had. And before that it was school. I throw myself into academia or work because it’s all I had,”

“Had,” you repeat, “as in the past tense. You’ve had some much more than too, Spence. We all love you. Elle and Derek. JJ and Hotch. Penny and Gideon. We all love you, but I love you the most,”

“Good,” Spencer replies, turning his head down to kiss you, “because I love you the most,”

His lips glide across yours, moving slowly at first and faster as he grows more urgent. There’s no sense in rushing through. You could kiss him lazily in your bed all night and continue until it gives way to morning. There’s no time limit, no buzzer that’s going to go off and force Spencer to whole himself back up into his past. He smiles through the kiss, knowing well that there’s more to come tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. His lips were warm and soft, maybe still a little tender from before, but still eager to feel your lips against his. Breathing together, savoring that you both are breathing, you smile yourself, fully ready for whatever comes next.

***

Taglist (not my usual taglist because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable bc this is smut. You can join the taglist here!)

@shemarmooresfedora @just-another-persona123 @folkreid @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @spencersrose @strawberryspence

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #no minors #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut fic #spencer reid x fem reader #sub spencer reid #derailed #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #no minors please

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: Slightly suggestive flirting, fluff

A/N: This chapter is so cute omg I hope you guys like it <3

“Oh come on (Y/n)! It could be fun!” Twyla called after the girl, who she was currently chasing around the halls of the manors. The tall men in suits watched them but didn’t interact, not sure of what to do in the situation. The (h/c) haired girl ignored her, making lala noises with her fingers in her ear. “Real mature, babes, real mature!” When they got back to the girl’s room, Twyla closed the door, locking it so her friend couldn’t escape. She got on her knees, pleading and begging the girl.

“Twyla I can’t just pick up and go on a trip to Italy!” she shouted, forcing the girl to stand up. The tall girl grabbed her shoulders, shaking her shorter friend in her arms.

“Why nottt?” she whined out. (Y/n) smacked her hands from her shoulders growling some at her.

“A multitude of reasons, Twy! The main one being oh I don’t know, who’s gonna look after my damn bakery!” she hissed out the last part, throwing herself on the large bed, the blonde joining her shortly after. “I’ve got no one to watch the bakery, I don’t have any clothes nice enough to take and even if I did I’d have to travel by floo back home to get them! Also, who’s gonna water my plants? I love my plants, Twyla!” she ranted causing the girl to shush her.

“Relax, you worry too much and there’s a simple fix to all these so-called ‘problems’ you have.” she sat up, pulling the girl up with her. “Let’s start with problem one. You said you have to run the bakery, right?” (Y/n) nodded, curious of where the girl was going with this. “Easy, ask Tiana to run it for a while. She’s been looking to get more hours in since she just bought a house.”

“I can’t ask that of her! Plus, she can’t do all of that with the staff we have now, she’d be understaffed!” she said, watching the girl type away on her phone. She was always so amazed by Twyla’s ability to use muggle technology.

“Well lucky for you, you won’t have to ask her. I just did!” her boss gawked at her, going to tell her off but she continued speaking. “And plus, it’s summer. Do you know how many culinary art students are looking to get hands-on learning in an actual bakery? You don’t handle the application process anyways, Tiana does that. Remember, you stopped doing that because you’d cry any time you had to reject an application.” she made many valid points, slowly pulling her over to the side that wanted to go, wanting to be on a trip with Neville. “Also you’re the only owner who spends so much time working. Isn’t the point of owning a business to make people do shit for you?”

“That’s true.” she sighed, picking at the skin around her cuticles. “But what about my apartment? And my clothes?”

“Don’t you still talk to that old couple that sold the bakery building to you? Ask them to watch your plants!” she retorted, smirking triumphantly. Slowly but surely her reasons for not being able to go were dwindling. (Y/n) sighed before shrugging.

“You know what? Screw it, I’ll go.” Twyla squealed, grabbing the girl’s hand as she dragged her out the door.

“Hey tall man, where’s Neville?” she asked the guard who was posted outside. He cleared his throat, adjusting his sunglasses.

“In his office. Downstairs and to the left, miss. He’s currently in a me-” without another word she grabbed the girl, dragging her downstairs. They reached the large wooden doors that had two large men standing there causing the shorter girl to cower in fear. Their glares were intense as they stood up straighter.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked, his rough voice booming. The other one nodded along, leaning down to her height as he gave her a strong glare, vein on his forehead popping out.

“The boss is in a meeting so unless you’re someone special, get lost.” (Y/n) felt her lip quivering, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh you’re fucked buddy, that’s the boss’s girl. Come on, I’ll let you guys in.” an unfamiliar voice said from behind her. Turning around she saw two identical men, quite lanky and tall in stature. She couldn’t help but notice how they favored another certain Ginger she knew.

The one on the left pressed on the small earpiece in his ear, clearing his throat. “Hey boss, your lady friend is out here crying. You should get more observant guards.” he said giggling as a shout could be heard from beyond the large door. The men visibly paled but kept their composure. The door swung open revealing Neville, who adorned a white button up and black trousers, a pair of suspenders connecting the two together.

“I-I’m sorry boss, I didn’t know.” one of them stuttered out, sweat building up on his bald head. Neville gripped his shirt tightly pinning him to the wall causing the man’s feet to lift from the ground. (Y/n)’s eyes widened at the sight. The man he was lifting had a large, muscular build making her wonder just how strong Neville really was.

“If you think that’s something, you should've seen him last night.” Twyla whispered out the corner of her mouth, the twins nodding along in agreement.

“You better listen because I’m gonna say this once.” Neville said, a calm tone which was somehow scary if he was to yell. The man nodded along frantically, wide eyes trained on the man. “That girl right there? She’s my flower. Let it be known that if she sheds a tear caused by any of you, you’re dead and what I’ll do will be worse than anything the Weasley twins could do combined.” and with that he dropped him, walking over to the girl. Weasley twins? So they were related to Ron! She felt her face flush as Neville leaned down, brushing away the tears that had threatened to fall from her eyes. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah I was just coming to tell you that I’ve made a decision. I’ll be joining you in Italy.” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at her lifting her up in a hug as he spun her around, laughing some. “B-but I don’t have any clothes so I still have to figure that out.” he sat her down, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Just buy new ones when we land.” he declared. She froze, scratching the back of her neck. That would be an easy solution if she hadn’t spent any extra savings she had on the night before.

“I don’t really have the money to do that..”she trailed off. Neville put something in her hands causing her to look down confused. In her hands was a black card, his name engraved in the front of it. “Is this...is this a black card?! I can’t take this. Plus what about you know, “ she cleared her throat, blood rushing to her cheeks and ears. “My undergarments. I don’t have any on me for before we go shopping.” Neville smirked at her words, feeling particularly confident from her flustered expression. She was so soft, so...pure. Anytime he neared her she’d get all warm in the face and anytime he kissed her that same look would double. Temptation was his flower and he was tempted. Hearing her inquire about something that had innocent intent behind it had him thinking about anything but.

“Nonsense, pretty girl. Take my card and for your undergarments..” he trailed off, leaning down next to her ear. He placed his hand around her neck, gently squeezing it as he chuckled. “Let me take care of that. Better yet, let me buy the ones for the trip as well.” he whispered, nibbling the shell of her ear. (Y/n) squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes. Was he doing this on purpose or was it a simple misunderstanding? Either way, she couldn’t stop the heat pooling between her legs. “I’m only messing with you cutie. However I wasn’t kidding, leave that to me.” with a final peck to her lips he stood up straight, adjusting his tie before heading back through the wooden doors, the twins following behind him.

“Nice meeting you (Y/n)!” they said in unison, offering her a smile before they closed the door after themselves.

“You know he totally wants to bang you, right?” Twyla said, causing the girl to glare at her. She held her hands up in defense, looking back at the girl as she began to walk off. “I’m just saying! It’s obvious. You should share a room with him when you go to Italy.”

“Do you..do you think he’d want that? I don’t wanna get in the way of-”

“Are you kidding me?! The man practically worships the very earth you walk on, why wouldn’t he?” Twyla exclaimed as the girl followed her blindly. (Y/n) gasped, looking up at where they were. Around them were large counters on the floor and ceiling. Marble countertops with a matching marble floor along with two large fridges and a state of the art oven. Ignoring Twyla’s rambling, she began to walk through the kitchen, inspecting and exploring every part of it. Her eyes landed on the pantry to which she opened, letting out another surprised noise. It was massive, food lining the walls, all organized to perfection. There was even a walk-in freezer and fridge down the hall!

“Twyla, I’ve gotta use this kitchen. If I don’t bake something in here I’m going to die.” she said, running out to the girl as she began to shake her back and forth. “Quick! Give me an excuse to so I don’t feel bad about messing things up!”

“Ooh! I love excuses! I mean, Neville’s having a meeting so you co-” before she could finish the girl put the kettle on before beginning to pull out various different bowls and ingredients.

----------------------------------------

“Well, do you have security plans?” Neville asked from the end of the table, quirking a brow at the italian man at the end of the table. He noticed even through the man’s fear that he probably didn’t understand what Neville had said fully. “Sorry, um, avete piani di sicurezza?” he asked, causing Blaise to quirk a brow at the man’s fluent italian. Neville rolled his eyes at him before turning his attention back to the man. He nodded, sliding back a file folder filled with papers.

“How long are we going to be there for?” Seamus asked.

“Does it matter? Money is money. Plus it’s not like you have anything important going on in your life, Finnegan.” Draco retorted which resulted in the shorter man growling as he grew red in the face.

“Don’t you dare fucking start. If you’re going to act like fools I’ll replace you with two lower levels in a heartbeat.” Neville gritted, not even looking up from the plans. He looked at the other man next to the italian man. “And you, what’s the exhibit worth exactly? If there’s no high hitting items we can already consider this a dud.”

“U-um. It’s estimated that it’s worth over 1.5 million, sir.” he responded, gulping as he reached for the water they had given him with a shaky hand. However, Neville wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Listen, did I ask you what it’s estimated to be? I asked for the exact cost. If you only have estimates then how bout I est-” he was interrupted by light knocking on the door. “Who is it now?! J-just come in.” he said, huffing out. The door opened followed by a quiet set of footsteps causing the inner circle of men to smile, giggling some. Curiosity got him, causing him to turn around, his expression instantly softening. “Petal? What are you doing here, angel girl?” he asked, pulling her closer but being careful of the large tray in her hand.

“I thought you might want some snacks for your little meeting. I hope there’s enough for everyone.” she said, setting the tray down on the table. It was funny really, comical, the way the doily and flower covered tray contrasted with all the men in the room. On the tray was a large array of different foods. Scones, tea biscuits, even tea sandwiches. In the center was a beautiful antique floral teapot along with matching cups.

“This looks amazing, princess!” he exclaimed, his stomach grumbling in agreement. She giggled at that, causing his ears to tint pink. “There’s most certainly enough. Go on fellas, don’t be-” before he could continue the men began to grab at the food, swooping in like vultures.

“Oh my god, this is like heaven!” Seamus moaned out, bits of sandwich falling from his mouth. Ron nodded along in agreement, a bunch of unintelligible words leaving his mouth. Even Blaise was wide eyed as he sipped at the tea, taking a bite of his tea biscuit.

“Yeah, is there any more of this? What kind of tea is this? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of having it before.” he said, taking another sip. She looked at them sheepishly, leaning into Neville’s embrace.

“It’s butterfly pea tea infused with strawberry and honey. Also there’s more of everything! I kinda went overboard.” she responded. Neville smiled, grabbing her hand before placing a kiss on top of it.

“Well thank you, I really appreciate it. You’re so lovely.” he muttered, turning her hand to place a kiss on her palm before proceeding to do the same all up her arm. She giggled some at the action, looking away from him shyly.

“Well I better get going before Twyla buys more stupid things with Draco’s black card.” she turned once as she got to the door. “Good luck with your meeting!”

Neville sighed happily before turning back around, looking at the men at the table before them. He grabbed whatever scraps the ravegers had left, eyeing everyone intensely. “What?” he spat out angrily.

“Mate you are so whipped!”

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x you #neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #mafia!neville #mafia!au #mafia

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

On set visits; Queen x reader x Borhap boys pt. 1

*Author's note*

Alright so this part is broken up into 2 parts so here is the 1st part of the Bohemian Rhapsody film set visit. Part 2 will be up in just a second after I get done with this author's note. So expect some crazy stuff happening, fluffiness and the Rock Angel reminiscing on her past with the boys.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@isabella-bby

@onebigfangirlworld

@labessieisallama

@5sos-wdw

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@bohemiansweede

_________________________________________________________

*Sept. 2017. Filming Bohemian Rhapsody*

I almost couldn't believe it myself. I mean I knew that the boys were planning on a film about themselves and that it was taking them almost 10 years just to get it off the ground. But now after multiple rewrites of the script and better casting, the film was ready to get off the ground.

"So you're absolutely sure I can stop by whenever I feel like it? No matter how many times?" I spoke into my I-phone.

'Absolutely love, just as long as you don't spill any secrets.'

"Please Bri, when have I ever revealed anything to anyone about you guys?"

'Well there was the time—'

"That was a fluck and you know it!" I snapped.

'I'm kidding love, you've never spilled any secrets. You've gotten better at lying lately.' Brian chuckled.

"Well when you say it like that it makes me feel guilty."

'As it should love. So when can we expect you?'

"I'll try to get there before the filming starts, so I may end up going to bed now so that way I can get on the road early enough to beat traffic."

'I know Rog is looking forward to seeing you again.'

"I just did the summer tour with you guys, how could he already miss me?"

'It's a mystery to all of us, but he is your father after all.'

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay well I'll see you tomorrow Bri."

'See you then (y/n). sweet dreams and drive safe tomorrow.'

"Will do. Love you."

'Love you too poppet.' I then hung up and couldn't help but grin.

"You still going over to see them film tomorrow?" I turned and low and behold after a long day's shift there was my husband coming in from his police work.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat threw up." I teased.

"Ha-ha you're hilarious my love." He said as he undid his tie and unbuttoned his short. "So the film's finally taking off the ground?"

"Yep, and they finally found a better Freddie Mercury."

"Yeah cause I remember when you called and told me about Sacha Baron Cohen."

"I just couldn't stand the fact that he was wanting to expose the dark side of Freddie. I mean yeah he had the parties, and the drugs, the sex, but that's all what Rock and rollers did back in those days. Plus that's all he seemed to care about. The scandal that came with Freddie's name, nothing about the music. I'm only just glad Bri sided with me on it." I ranted as Jack came up after taking his shirt and undoing his pants and began to rub my shoulders.

"I know love. You're as protective of this project as Brian and Roger are. So do you know who exactly they got to play Freddie this time?"

"No, but I'll find out tomorrow."

"Okay well, my team's got a heavy lead on the case so I won't really be available tomorrow."

"I understand. Just—promise me you'll be careful my love. I haven't forgotten that one killer that shot you in the line of duty."

"I survived didn't I? Plus now we both have a bullet story to share." He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Not funny Jack." I muttered.

"I know. C'mon let's get some sleep. We both have got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." I nodded and then we both got into bed and we fell asleep.

Early the next morning I was on my way over to the set driving in my own car without a driver. As I approached the set gate of course I was stopped by security.

"Badge and proof of visitation ma'am." I handed him the badge that Roger had sent in for me and some documentation that I needed to show him saying that I was not only visiting but a consultant for the movie to help the actors get to know the true Queen. "Everything checks out Mrs. Kline, here you go and have a good day."

"You too uhh—Marvin." I read his nametag before putting my VIP badge around my neck as the gate opened and I drove on inside.

After about 10 minutes I finally was able to find a parking space. I got out of the car and locked it up before walking towards the set. I was told by Brian that the actors had been prepping for the biggest scene they were going to film, the Live Aid sequence.

When I came around and actually stepped up onto the stage, I was blown away and taken back to the summer of 1985. Jesus they—the production got every single detail down to the paint chippings. The rigged lights that Queen had the day they performed, Roger's kit and the grand piano with Freddie's Pepsi cups filled with beer.

"Oh my god. Jack if only you were here to see this." I muttered to myself. It was then I saw Brian talking to someone but—wait did he? Did he seriously dye his hair back to its original dark curls? I walked up to him but waited till he was done talking to some of the producers. Once he was I tapped his shoulder and he turned around and—oh wow I just....wow.

I don't know whether this is a prank or time travel does exist but I swear I'm literally looking at Brian the day I had met him.

"Okay it's official. I think I have finally cracked." I said as I placed my hand over my forehead.

"I'm sorry ma'am do you need to sit down or can I get you a cup of water?" Oh god he even sounds like Brian.

"Ahhh seems you two have already met. And here I thought I could surprise you." I turned and there was—Brian? My Brian with the grey curls now. Wait what!? What is going on here!?

"What the f—"

"Ah, ah language young lady!" Brian scolded.

"You must be the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline, Brian and Roger have told us a lot about you. Pardon me, Gwilym Lee." He said as he extended his hand to me. I shook it and said in awe.

"Ahhhh, now I see it. Sorry Gwilym dear, never did I think I'd see two Brian's at once. I swear to god you look—exactly like Brian when I met him."

"Anita said the exact same thing. Cheeky woman was even trying to flirt with him." Brian said as he pouted towards the end..

"No she didn't." I gawked.

"I'm afraid it's true." Gwilym said with a blush. I shook my head softly laughing.

"Oh that woman I tell you what."

"Well I can tell you one thing I know a certain someone of the cast who will flip out once he sees you." said Gwilym.

"And just who might that be?" I asked him.

"The young lad whose playing Deacy, Joe Mazzello."

"Kept ranting on and on about your Live Aid performance and how you and Deacy used to interact with each other in your performances together."

"Ahh yes. Me and my dear brother mine." I sighed with a solemn smile.

"I—I'm sorry I-I-I didn't mean to......"

"No, no Gwilym it's fine. While sometimes I do wish he could still be around, I completely understand why he chose to leave the band. Hell without Brian and Rog I—I don't even want to think what I would've done after Freddie died." I soon brushed my sorrows away and said, "Now come here Gwilym I want to get a closer look at you." he came up to me and we stood face to face of each other.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked him up and down before cupping each side of his face gently.

"God they chose right for my Brian. I swear, it's like Gwilym is your long lost son Bri." I said as my eyes turned toward Brian.

"I'm beginning to think you might be right." Joked Brian. I stepped back from Gwilym and said to him.

"I can't wait to see the full Live Aid recreation with you all in full costume."

"I hope we do you proud Mrs. Kline."

"First of all, call me (y/n). Secondly, I'm already proud. From what I've heard from Brian and Roger, I have no doubt in my mind that we've entrusted the right group of actors with Freddie's and Queen's upbringing tale to absolute rock gods."

"You flatter us too much (y/n)." Brian gushed.

"Only because you old fossils deserve it." I teased as I stuck my tongue out at him to which Brian did his little eyebrow quirk at me. I giggled softly and continued. "Well before filming starts, I'm gonna continue to look around the set. I'm told the lower decks where all the performers were settled in are just like how they were when we were there. Ciao Brians'." I walked away from them with a wave of my hand.

After exploring more of the set design and going down memory lane it was then I came across another look-a-like. Holding the famed natural Fender precision Bass guitar and wearing that god awful tacky shirt that I secretly wished I had told him not to wear, and having the iconic mushroom fluffy hair was the actor who was playing Deacy, Joe Mazzello.

One of the hair designers was fluffing up the wig to make sure it was up to Deacy's standard. And god just like with Gwilym, Joe was practically identical to Deacy.

It was just like seeing Deacy again back when he was happy and content with where Queen was at, just before finding out about Freddie's illness (which I had found out from Spike several years ago that Deacy had actually known since the last tour Queen ever did with Freddie).

I smiled softly as I watched him get ready for the camera. His wide smile reminded me so much of Deacy's. Slowly I walked up towards him and as the hairdresser looked him over Joe asked.

"So how does it look?"

"I think you look terrific." I said.

"Wait who said—OH MY GOD!!!" he screamed as he turned around and saw me. Like all usual fanboys, he jumped back, his mouth was gaped and his eyes were wide.

"Close your mouth please Joe dear we are not a codfish." His mouth immediately closed.

"Y-you-you-you're....."

"The Rock—"

"Rock Angel." We both said together slowly. "Call me (y/n)." I greeted as I extended my hand out to him and he took it hold of it and shook it.

"I just—I can't believe that I'm-I'm-I'm actually standing beside the Rock Angel." I softly giggled.

"Just know that beyond the glam and the rock star female empowerment, I'm just a normal 55 year old woman."

"But you still look good." He said. I quirked my brow at him so he quickly tried to save himself, "Not that you're old or anything. I mean I don't mean to offend you I just....."

"Joseph. Relax dear. I'm not offended at all. Freddie always said that I would end up being an eternal beauty. At first I thought it was just Freddie being Freddie but as the years have passed I think he—that he must be behind giving me this youthful glow."

"The Rock Angel called me dear," he first gushed with a shy smile. "Sorry I just...... I grew up listening to your albums along with Queen and the first time I saw one of your broadcast performances, I kinda had a little crush on you" He said gently.

"Aww I'm flattered Joe, really I am." I said as I gently cupped the side of his face and gave his cheek a stroke of my thumb. At that point he looked like he was about to melt into a puddle with how much joy he was probably filled with. "Now Joe forgive me for saying this, how long have you been acting?"

"I was a child actor actually. I've—always been in the acting business. Why do you ask?"

"Well besides seeing some of my brother's features I feel like I've—seen you in something before."

"You might recall a little film that came out in the 90's known as Jurassic Park?"

"Wait hold on—you...." I gasped. "You played little Tim Murphy!?!"

"Yes, yes I was Tim Murphy."

"Oh my god. When that film came out my twin boys were literally obsessed with that movie. Would not watch anything else for a full year. They even wore out the old VHS tape we had for it. Oh my god how could I not recognize you sooner?"

"Well I was 8 just turning 9 while we were filming it."

"You had a birthday while filming?"

"Yeah. It was during the kitchen scene with the raptor. I actually got injured on that day."

"What? What happened?" he then proceeded to tell me exactly what had happened. Of how the raptor they used was on wheels and he was running toward the fridge and he was supposed to go left while the raptor was supposed to go right, but the guy controlling the raptor lost control and went the same direction as Joe and he ended up getting hit in the face with a metal claw.

And it was at that moment the director Steven Spielberg and the rest of the crew sang Happy birthday to him.

Then of course he tried to ask Joe at that moment if they could try it again, but when Joe proved he couldn't do it, they wrapped for that day.

"Oh you poor thing."

"It's okay, I survived."

"Well I hope you never suffered an injury like that since then. And on your birthday too? That's never a good birthday present to get a concussion."

"I was cleared out with no concussion, just a little dizzy and a bit of bruising."

"Oh I'm sorry love, it's my inner mother instincts kicking in."

"She always was an overprotective mother." We both turned around and I saw Roger walking up sporting the black beanie I gave him for Christmas last year and another actor who was sporting the Roger Taylor look he had for Live Aid.

"Oh look who's talking smother father! For years since I've known you you've been the definition of helicopter parent." I gawked at him. "You still sometimes even threaten Jack with missing out on our dates cause of our jobs."

"And I've always told you that boy would be trouble one day." He teased as he came up to me.

"Wow so it is actually true, you guys do look at each other as father and daughter." Said the young actor playing Roger.

"Yes Ben, my adoptive daughter (Y/n) Kline, otherwise known as the Rock Angel." Roger introduced.

"So you're the young actor playing my main father figure eh?" I said as I looked at the young man.

"Yes. Ben Hardy, it's a real honor to meet you in person Mrs. Kline. To say I was nervous to meet Roger is nothing compared to the thought of meeting you."

"Are you saying I'm intimidating and unapproachable?" I asked offendedly.

"Wha? No! No! God no I-I-I-I didn't mean it that way I was just...." I interrupted him with a laugh and said.

"Dear, relax. I was just pulling your leg."

"And be thankful she was. Otherwise, I'd beat your arse boy for insulting my daughter." Roger protectively stated.

"See there you go you old hypocrite. Besides Rog you haven't been able to kick anyone's arse in years. Don't want you breaking a hip now do we?" I mocked him.

"You're lucky these boys are here little missy." Roger scolded me.

" Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now then Ben, you were once on EastEnders right?" I said turning my attention back toward Ben.

"Yes. I played Peter Boyle on the show. My recent film before this was the new X-Men movie that came out about a year ago. X-Men Apocalypse."

"Ahh yes, my youngest son is always obsessed with all the superhero films. Marvel or DC. Now I'd like to see you two more closely, stand together." Both Joe and Ben followed orders and I looked both of them up and down.

Circling around them before cupping each of their faces once by one. And yes Ben was a bit more muscular than Roger was and of course they didn't get his hair right for this part in time, but there was just something in Ben's eyes that just made me think back to the first day I met Roger.

That sparkle of mischief but also protectiveness that shown through those blue eyes of his.

"That is most definitely my Roger. You both have the same spirit in your eyes. I can't wait to see how you play the drums up on that stage."

"Yeah, me neither." He said with a hint of nervousness. I then went over to Joe and cupped his face too. Just—my god just like with Deacy the profile was just uncanny. Of course, Deacy's eyes were more of a hazel type while Joe's were like a brownish type color. But I couldn't deny he looked so much like my brother. "And you my dear Joseph. Gwilym isn't the only one to resemble the man he's playing."

"It was kinda scary after getting the wig on. So much so that I called my mom and asked her what she was doing in 1983?" I laughed and said as I took my hands away from his face.

"Unfortunately, I can tell you for a fact that John Deacon is not your father. The only lady he's ever loved and will love is Veronica."

"I know." I chuckled softly.

"Now then Joe if you'll come with me there's important things I need to discuss with you."

"Like what?"

"You'll see. It was wonderful to meet you Ben, I hope we can get to know each other better later after you all film the Live Aid concert."

"Yeah of course, it was wonderful to meet you Mrs. Kline."

"Please call me (y/n). Dad you better not be too hard on this one, I like him."

"Don't worry I won't break him too much." The four of us went our separate ways.

Joe and I arrived at my trailer (all thanks to Rog and Bri). We entered inside and I told Joe to take a seat. He sat down on my couch while I went over to the kitchen.

"Tea?"

"Yes please. One sugar please."

"Just like how he liked it." I muttered to myself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing love, nothing." I prepped the tea for him and once it was done I handed him his cup and he thanked me. I watched him take a sip and he said,

"Ahh never gets old. I'm telling you after this I may just be the biggest tea fan ever."

"It is good for the soul. I myself have always found Jasmine to be the way to nirvana." I paused for a brief moment before saying, "Joe." He looked at me giving me his full attention, "As you know probably from weeks of research and maybe even from Roger and Brian themselves, Deacy chose to exempt himself from all forms of stardom. To live a quiet life with his family."

"Yeah. When I first got the part I did reach out to him on just any personal advice on certain quirks that he did. Cause even though I've played real life people before, this is the first time I'm playing someone whose still alive, and I wanted to do him justice."

"Yes, quite."

"However all I got back was just that he approved of the project and just for me to take it as any other actor would. Not that I'm saying that I'm mad at him for saying that. But I just—"

"I get it. Really I do." I took his hand and gripped onto it comfortingly. "Look. Ever since Freddie died, Deacy has been—grieving. Just like he did for me, it was Freddie who helped bring Deacy out of his shell and become more involved with the band. Not just being the bass player or the quiet guy."

"The King of the one liners, the tie breaker of Queen." Joe stated.

"Yes, although John could be loud and rowdy when he wanted to. He was definitely Queen's wildcard, but he was also their Ace. Unpredictable but incredibly brilliant. Never have I met a bass player quite like him. Nor do I think I ever will." It was quiet for what felt like forever when Joe asked me.

"Do you—do you still speak to him? I mean, cause I read that you both basically grew up close together, even for being 11 years apart from each other."

"Yes. We actually lived 20 minutes from each other back in our youth. He was and will always be my brother mine." I sighed heavily. "And to answer your question, I must remind you he's always been.....a cautious subject to me. Any remembrance of Freddie just makes him break, and as I'm sure you've seen from my concert footages I, sometimes, subconsciously find myself doing some Freddie movements on stage. Whether it's flicking my wrist like he did, strutting around the stage or waving my arms like he did. Deacy's.....he knows those things. But he's always there for me when I needed him. The last time was—on the tragedy of 9-11."

"Wait you mean....."

"Jack's cousin Jared and his wife Gen, they—they were on the plane that was overtaken by the terrorists. Took five days to finally find their bodies. Jared holding Gen in his arms. It was a risk but—I knew Jack needed more support than just his American family. So he and I went over to John and Veronica's place. We went at the early mornings of course just so that way no one would spot us driving in midday and try to track us down, then at sunrise we walked up to the door and—there he was. When Jack told him what had happened, he—actually invited us in and allowed us to stay the entire time. He ended up being the right support Jack needed."

"Your husband and John were close?"

"Oh yes. More alike than you know. Both incredibly talented bass players. That's how Jack got Deacy's approval when Jack and I started hanging out. He even gave my husband private lessons."

"Wow."

"Yes. They were practically inseparable the two of them for that summer. Even during their rehearsals, you would see Deacy go in the corner and practice what riffs he'd teach my Jack next. However that was the last time I ever actually saw Deacy, 16 long years ago. Haven't gotten in contact with him since. But occasionally, at least according to Brian, he asks them how I'm doing as well as Jack."

"I hope he's living a quiet and happy life with his kids and wife."

"I know they are. I still keep in contact with Ronnie whenever I can, sometimes we go out shopping, fawn over grandchildren pics, and just catching up. She was the mother I needed when I first had Kelly."

"Sounds like she was the ultimate mama."

"You have no idea." I felt Joe place his free hand on top of mine that still had his. I smiled softly at him before I got down to the real reason why I brought him here. "Joseph, now I know that when it comes to acting, Hollywood can pick whomever they deem worthy for a role, especially if it's for a real person. I'll be honest with you; hearing your American accent puts me a little on edge. Cause I have heard some pretty bad English accents on screen that just make me want to pull my ears off agonizingly slow. Now I know Deacy has probably the most unique accent from anyone in Leicester, I mean you hear my accent and I sound nothing like his dialect. So what I want to ask of you, just for the sake of you playing my brother, may I hear you speak with John's accent?"

"What-what would you like me to say?"

"Maybe say what you did for the audition. Or anything that comes to your head. It doesn't even have to be an interview Deacy did, I just want to hear your accent." He nodded before sitting back on the couch while I leaned back on the chair.

He adjusted himself before finally miming that he was driving a car before he finally spoke about when Deacy first joined the band. The one interview he did during the 'News of the World' tour with Bob Harris.

I felt like at that moment my heart had stopped. My hands slowly covered my mouth in a prayer style while the corner of my eyes watered. And sure there were certain words that he said that still sounded American but—this was my brother. I....I was actually looking at my brother right now. They got it right.

By the end of it, Joe looked at me and his eyes grew concerned as he said.

"Did I screw up?" I stood up from my chair in silence. I then walked over to him and knelt down in front of him cupping his face. A wide smile spread across my face as I immediately hugged him and softly sobbed.

"You are my Deacy! My brother mine." I then felt him embrace me back and the two of us rocked side to side. I looked up to the heavens praying that Fred was looking down knowing he would've loved Joe playing his Deacy. "If you ever need any advice or help, I'm here for you. Promise me Joe Mazzello that you will come to me with anything regarding Deacy."

"I promise (y/n)." he still spoke with Deacy's accent which filled me with both sorrow and happiness.

We stayed that way for god knows how long. After composing myself, we left my trailer when one of the volunteers came up to us and said.

"Joe, they're ready to start filming the concert."

"Shall we go on?" I asked.

"Yes, let's." God he had my brother's quick wit already. He crooked his arm out which made me grin softly. I looped my arm through his and the two of us walked on towards the Live Aid stage.

I stood alongside Roger, Peter Freestone (Freddie's former assistant and the other consultant for the film) as well as Brian's youngest daughter Emily (who in every way was so much like her father from the hair to the smile).

"I think this will be a great shoot, don't you think (y/n)?" asked Peter.

"Indeed Pheebs. And I'm sure Freddie would've loved to have seen it."

"He would indeed." He said as he wrapped an arm around me and soon Brian came and stood beside us after being backstage with the young actors who then came out just as Queen did that day back in 85. When I saw the young actor playing our Freddie, I was already impressed.

Sure he was skinnier than Freddie was, but seeing him move about just as Freddie did it was like I was seeing Freddie right before my eyes. The boys got into position and soon began to perform the entire Live Aid concert.

Besides actually being there and seeing them perform from the wings that day over 30 years ago, this was about the greatest concert performance I had ever seen.

The boys in full costume had everything down. Gwilym channeled Brian's solo on Bohemian Rhapsody, Ben was pretty impressive on the drums, Joe had Deacy's rhythmic moves down, and the young man playing Freddie he—it was beyond what I could imagine. He wasn't just moving like Freddie, it was like he knew why Freddie would move a certain way to a song.

I was in awe cause it felt like I had actually traveled back in time and was watching Queen's most historical performance once again. I stood behind Brian and wrapped my arms around his shoulders leaning up against his head smiling from ear to ear, I felt Brian take one of my hands and gently patted it every now and then.

When the Aye-Oh's happened I could help but lowered my head and holding my laughs of joy. I swear when this is over, I need to talk to this new actor playing Freddie cause unlike Sacha, this was our Freddie. Soon Hammer to Fall came on and I couldn't help but bop my head along to the song.

I felt a tap at my shoulder and I turned to see Emily holding her phone out with the notes app open. In the app it read.

'Is this how you remember it Aunt (y/n)?' I walked towards her and gestured for me to have her phone. She handed it to me and I typed out.

'Everything and more. God I wish your cousin Kelly could've been here to see this as well as your uncle Jack. They would've loved it.' I showed her my message and she came up and wrapped her arms around my shoulders as the two of us smiled happily up at the stage.

When Hammer to Fall concluded, the extras and even me and team Queen applauded. I let out a loud whistle from the sidelines as I applauded and took pictures with my own phone to show Jack and the kids later. Now I recall that it was at this time the guys ended up surprising me and the world with our duet "Set it all free" instead of the planned 'Crazy Little thing called love'.

Now I've been skeptical about having a biopic film about me, even though I knew both Queen and Elton were starting theirs at the same time, hell one of the producers Dexter Fletcher is currently directing Elton's film 'Rocketman' as we speak right now. So I didn't know if they would plan to do Crazy little thing or if they'd go the set as it was all those years ago.

I got my answer however when Ben started to play the drum intro to my song.

"You guys didn't." I muttered.

"We wanted to be historically accurate with the Live Aid set." Brian started.

"So we cooked up a little surprise for you." Roger said. It was then I heard the actor playing Freddie began chanting out along with the audience "An-gel! An-gel! An-gel!" it was then I saw a young girl come out and—by god it was like looking at my younger self from that day.

She was dressed exactly how I was with a pregnant belly suit underneath her shirt. Her hair was designed the same way as mine was, everything just took me back. Instead of a playback that the Freddie actor was using for all the singing, this young woman was actually singing and she had a pretty good voice.

I continued to watch in awe as the young woman basically became me doing each step or movement I did that day on Live Aid. I felt Brian and Roger wrap their arms around me as I couldn't even take my eyes off the young woman up on stage. I could hear the extras singing out the lyrics, even some of the crew members were bopping their heads and singing along.

She walked across the stage at the second verse right towards the Freddie actor and just like Fred and I did, they stood forehead to forehead singing the duet before she walked back out and went back to center stage. When the guitar solo came on, my eyes turned to Gwilym and he amazed me that he actually could do my hard rock solo.

After the song was over, the crowd applauded and cheered and I turned to the guys and hugged them and whispered into their ears.

"If this is you guys way of trying to get me to sign onto a biopic film......I'm highly considering it after seeing her."

"We'll introduce you later." Said Roger as we separated from the hug and we turned our attention back to the guys as We Will Rock you now began playing. I couldn't help myself by stomp my feet to the rhythm and mouth out the words.

I was just amazed by not only Gwilym's guitar playing but also the young man who moved just like how I remembered seeing Freddie move, using the mic stand as Fred always did (the cheeky man), even the facial expressions that he made were exactly like they were.

It wasn't until when 'We are the champions' came on that I could barely hold my tears in. Seeing not only Fred's actor but my actor singing the famed Queen anthem that has literally been played in every victory sport or award winning singing competition.

Seeing the two of them interact with each other, it was pure nostalgia.

By the end of the song, tears welled up in my eyes and I looked toward the heavens hoping that Freddie could see this and running through my mind I already knew what he'd say.

"Amazing jobs my darlings, not as fabulous as me but very, very close." When the extras and even some crew members cheered, Brian, Roger, Peter, Emily and myself all applauded and cheered for the boys and that's when the director called cut.

"This.....is gonna be a great movie." I said.

"I think so too. After just seeing them come together like that, I think we've finally casted the right people to play us." Said Brian.

"I agree you two, I'm liking what I've just seen so far." Roger said.

"And—I'm sure he would've liked this too." I said solemnly. I felt Roger gently rub my back and Brian said.

"I know he would."

After a few more takes of filming the Live Aid concert, the director said that it was enough for today. I walked around the set to find the producer Graham King and when I approached him I asked him.

"Graham tell me, who's the young man you got to play Freddie?"

"Oh his name is Rami Malek. His recent project was a show called Mr. Robot."

"Ahh yes I've heard of that, my Freddie is obsessed with that show. Never misses an episode."

"When we were casting Freddie I happened to come across an episode and when I saw him I—just thought I was looking at Freddie. So we brought him in, he gave us a mock interview as well as an audition that your boys saw when they first met him. And from then on it just fell into place. Do you approve of him? Is there a problem Mrs. Kline?"

"Absolutely not. Do you know where I can find Rami at right now?"

"Probably in hair and makeup getting undressed."

"Well, when he is done would you be so kind as to bring him to my trailer?"

"Of course (y/n)." I nodded in gratitude and walked off to my trailer.

I sat there once again on the chair looking through an old photo album. Each picture held a deep and personal memory for me, I thought back to the day that each picture was taken and remembered exactly what was going on at that very moment.

A knock was soon heard at my trailer. I composed myself with a deep exhale and said.

"Come in." the door opened and there without costume or the tache was Rami Malek.

"Graham said you wanted to see me Mrs. Kline?"

"Yes Rami, love please come in." he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "Take a seat." I gestured towards the couch. He sat right where Joe had sat down earlier this morning and I said. "Would you care for a biscuit, or as Americans call them cookies?"

"Uhh yes please." I smiled and handed him a tray of biscuits I always kept around me (hey a woman's gotta have her sweet tooth fix right?) and handed him my best plate of chocolate chip cookies (all thanks to my mother in law's secret recipe). He thanked me as he took one and took a bite out of it. "Mmm. Oh my god," he cleared his throat and closed his mouth before finishing the biscuit up. "This is so good."

"Thank you, it was my mother in law's secret recipe. She passed it onto me shortly before Kelly was born." He took another bite of it and swallowed that piece before saying as he set it down on a napkin that I had also provided.

"What-what was it you needed to see me for Mrs.—"

"Before we continue, I'll ask you to call me the same way I've asked the other three of the band to call me. Call me (y/n)."

"Yes of course, (y/n). What was it you wanted to see me for? Is it to talk about what you saw out there? Did I screw it up already?"

"No, no dear relax. This is nothing in the way you're thinking." I saw him take a sigh of relief.

"Oh good. Cause I know I obviously wasn't the first choice for the job."

"In my books Rami, you should've been the first one to be called for the role."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, but first there's a couple of questions that I want to ask you that Brian and Roger might not have asked you, and I want you to answer them as Freddie would've."

"Okay." I smiled softly and stood up from my seat as I set the phot album aside.

"Who is Queen not without?"

"That's easy. It's you darling. There's no Queen without their beloved Rock Angel, and no Rock Angel without her four aging Queens." I felt my heart clench at hearing Rami speak with a British tone. The softness of his voice almost sounded identical to Freddie's voice. I turned towards him and walked towards the kitchen area of my trailer.

"Who is it that you trust the most?"

"Mary. Mary is the one I trust the most. For she knows me like no one else ever will." I reached the kitchen and rested my hand against the island.

"Who are you?" Rami looked at me before finally answering something that would forever stun me.

"I've been asked that all my life. By my family, student peers, professors, the entire world. I've been told who I should strive to be but I say fuck what they say. They don't define me. No, I decided who I am. I'm going to be what I was born to be. A performer who gives the people what they want." He pointed towards the ceiling as he whispered, "touch of the heavens." He dropped his hand before finally answering, "Freddie Fucking Mercury."

My lips quivered and I ducked my head as tears began falling down my face for—god knows how many times right now.

"Oh (y/n) I—I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry, I—did I say something wrong?" Rami said urgently as he stood up and stood in front of me.

"No." I choked out. I sniffled and that's when he handed me a tissue. Oh ever the kind gentleman and concerned about my wellbeing, just like Freddie was. "No you—you've prove to me that you know just who Freddie truly was."

"Didn't want to be put in a certain category or be stereotyped." He said. I nodded as I wiped my tears with the tissue he had given me.

"For as long as I have known Freddie, especially to his last, various people have chosen one of two sides. There's the one side that the press made him out to be. The one that-that—bastard Cohen wanted to portray Freddie as. The wild, crazed, homosexual drug addict. That he deserved what he had gotten because he was so reckless and stupid. That AIDS was his form of suicide. Never did I want to punch and murder so many people. Every time I got asked about whether Freddie's death was his own fault, I just wanted to rip the interviewer apart."

"I can see why. I bet a lot of true fans and the people who knew Freddie well would've done what you've felt like doing."

"But people like you Rami, who understand that Freddie wasn't just a frontman or greatest performer to ever live. That he did come from a harsh background but rose above all the trials and tribulations that came his way to define himself as he sought out to be. That's why he was my biggest idol." I grabbed the photo album and sat down on the couch and opened it up taking out a picture that was always a favorite of mine.

It was a picture that Deacy took of Freddie and I together just after my very first performance as the Rock Angel at Madison Square Garden. Fred's arms wrapped around me as he had picked me up, huge wide smiles were spread across our faces. I felt a dip on my left side I looked up to see Rami sitting close beside me. He looked down at the picture before saying.

"Was this your first performance?"

"Yes. Out of four members of Queen, it was Freddie Mercury who truly believed that I could make a name for myself in the industry. Taught me everything there was into getting the self-confidence I needed to get up on that stage. Sure we had our ups and downs, but through all the falls we had, he never gave up on me. He gave up on no one that he loved. And Rami," we looked at each other and I told him the utmost truth, "If he were alive today, he would've loved you."

He smiled as I gently touched his cheek and the two of us looked through my photo album of every picture Freddie and I took throughout the 11 years I knew him.

At the end of the day, just before the four boys left to go hang out at a pub nearby, I stepped in and offered.

"Why not have dinner over at my place boys?"

"Oh we couldn't impose." Said Joe.

"Nonsense Joe, I insist and I won't take no for answer. Plus it'll be a more homely environment. You boys can't live on catering and pub foods for the next several months to a year. No I absolutely won't have it."

"Best go along with her boys, she got her persuasion from the best there was." Roger added in.

"Well—if you think it's a good idea." Said Gwilym.

"Of course it is. Now come on, you four can fit in my car. Let's go. Meet you there Brian and Roger?"

"We'll be right behind you love." Said Brian. I gestured the boys to follow me to my car. Ben sat up in the passenger seat, Joe sat behind him, Rami was in the middle and Gwilym sat behind me. I turned the engine on and told everyone to buckle up (mama instincts what can I say?) and we pulled out of the gate and I drove us on home.

"So (y/n), what other kind of music do you listen to?" asked Joe.

"Whatever song has a good voice and a good beat, with no autotune I will love. You can look through my Spotify and see what I have." Ben took my phone out of the phone holder and turned around as Joe took over the controls and went to my Spotify.

"Wow there are a lot of songs. And I thought you would've just stuck with what you grew up on."

"Unlike most rockstars like Roger who think everything after 1979 basically became trash music with the rise of pop or as they called it 'disco'. I'm a little more open minded. But I deny all songs that use explicit language every three words, degrading women, or promotes violence."

"You even got some old Christina Aguilera songs on here?" asked Rami.

"Who do you think helped produce her?"

"Shut the front door. You produced Christina Aguilera?"

"Yeah. I even gave her rights to a song that I wanted to do. But even singing it brought back some old wounds. So since I was helping her produce her album at the time, I turned to song over to her."

"What song was it?" asked Ben.

"Fighter."

"Shut up! That was literally my jam."

"I can attest to that. Throughout the filming of The Pacific, he would never shut that song off when getting into Eugene's character for certain episodes." Rami rose his hand.

"Yeah. I have an entire playlist of some songs I helped produce or make. You can play that playlist if you'd like. Or my typical playlist my boys best songs."

"I think in the light of our first day filming, we should go with Queen. What do you guys say?" Joe asked.

"Agree."

"Yep."

"Oh yeah."

"Aright then Joe, we'll each pick our favorite Queen song. You're up first little Tim." He grinned and scrolled through my playlist until Somebody to love came up on the speakers. "Read my mind Joseph." The piano began playing and that's when I vocalized alongside Freddie and the five of us began singing the song at the top of our lungs.

The entire car ride contained each of us picking our top favorite songs. Ben did 'White Queen' which I commended on him cause people nowadays tend to forget the old Queen songs, Gwilym picked Love of my Life, Rami chose Radio Gaga, and I, of course chose Bohemian Rhapsody.

Thanks to Wayne's world (yes I saw the movie and yes it was silly but just the opening scene alone made the movie worth watching) we basically did the same motion by motion that those boys did in the film when the operatic section came on. And of course when the headbanging rock out came on, the boys proceeded to bang their hands while I did mine not as aggressively (responsible driving kids!)

We continued to rock out to the song and it wasn't until by the end of the song that we soon arrived at my home. I pulled the car up into the garage and hit the clicker button which opened up the garage door and I pull inside just as the last line came up and Roger's gong rang off. I shut the engine and said.

"Here we are boys, welcome to casa de la Kline." We all exited out of my car and right behind us as scheduled were Brian and Roger with Bri getting out of the driver's seat. "Bout time you two got here, I was beginning to worry that I'd need to call in an ambulance."

"We're old dear, not dead." Roger sassed at me.

"But I still love you old coots. Just like I said all those years ago."

"That I do remember, the day right after you got so shitfaced after your 21st birthday. You remember that Brian?" Roger said.

"Indeed I do Rog, I even remember what we did to her to get her to apologize, think we need to do it again?"

"That might have to be arranged."

"Oh no you guys don't! We're not doing that now, now let's get inside before we all catch a cold." I guided them all inside. Once we stepped through the backdoor of the garage I could already smell something cooking, and I knew who exactly was cooking at this rate. "Baby! I'm home!" I called out from the hallway.

We turned the corner and soon came to the kitchen where a young man of 19 (going on 20 in a couple months) stood by the oven. He shut it off and turned around. He was every bit like his father when I first met him back in '83, but he had my eyes. When he saw me, he softly smiled and I came up to him.

"Sorry I didn't call in advance telling you that we would have more guests than your uncles."

"No worries mom. You know I've always cooked way more than I should." I smiled and cupped his face and we kissed each other's cheek. "Uncle Brian, uncle Roger."

"Hello Fred." Brian greeted.

"Hey lad, how's school been?"

"Oh you know, NYU's a challenge but I manage." He then directed his attention towards the young actors but when he eyes landed on Rami, he quickly grabbed my arm and whispered to me. "You didn't tell me you'd be bringing Rami Malek to our house!"

"Again slipped my mind." I teased him.

"Mom how dare you bring my celebrity crush here without telling me, look at me I'm a mess."

"Oh you're fine. Now best behavior." I wrapped an arm around my son and said. "Boys, this is my youngest son Freddie Mercury Kline. Fred, these are the boys that will be playing your uncles. This is Joe Mazzello, he'll be playing your uncle Deacy. Ben Hardy who's playing your old uncle Roger."

"Watch it lion cub." Rog warned me. I gave him a cheeky look before continuing the introductions.

"Gwilym Lee will be playing your uncle Brian, and you know Rami, he'll be playing the man you were named after."

"Uncle Freddie?"

"Yes. And—from what I've seen so far, you'll finally get to meet him through the screen."

"I don't doubt that. I'm a big fan of yours Rami, your role in Mr. Robot has been—amazing."

"I'm honored."

"Alright since we've all had a long day today, let's get some grub. Everyone grab a plate." I grabbed some extra plates from the cabinet and handed four plates out to the actors and we all assembled around the island to grab a piece of lasagna, peas, mashed potatoes with gravy and Hawaiian rolls.

Once we gathered around the table I set out the iced tea Jack had made a couple of days ago as well as some champagne or wine. "Okay guys, before we dig in I want all hands on deck." I extended my hand out.

Freddie immediately placed his hand on top of mine, Brian and Rog soon followed after and it was then Rami, Gwilym, Joe and finally Ben placed their hands on top.

"Thank you for this family, thank you for this meal. Thank you for this day. It'll be a wild ride, but I feel this movie will soar, and—that this new family will forever stay." I said ending the traditional family prayer. The young actors looked at me with warm eyes and soft smiles.

"Alright, let's dig in. You boys will never eat the same way again once you taste (y/n)'s cooking." Roger said.

"That bad?" joked Joe. I gawked at the young cheeky actor.

"On the contrary she's the best chief on this side of London. Even when she was an intern she made us this one Christmas pudding that was to die for." Brian spoke on my behalf.

"It's true. She put all the other PTA mom's to shame when it came to my school's bake sales." Freddie said as he took a bite of his lasagna.

The entire dinner was filled with talks about our lives, stories and embarrassing moments in life. Not a single person was excluded from a conversation. After dinner, Rami and Gwilym helped Freddie with the dishes while I got some other scrapbooks out and bonded a bit with Ben and Joe about my time with Rog and Deacy.

"Now this Joe was taken during my first Japan tour. At the very garden where Queen went to near the Tokyo tower, Deacy refused to let me leave without having a cherry blossom crown."

"He seems to be doing good in the picture."

"Except one twig got so tangled in my hair it literally took 15 minutes just to get it out." We both laughed before I turned the page and found a great picture of me and Roger. "Now this picture Ben, both Roger and I have this picture, this was taken after my first Hyde Park performance."

"She performed to an audience of half of what Queen did when we performed at Hyde Park." Roger spoke.

"She could've performed for more but times changed and better security measure for the public's safety prevented it from happening again." Brian added.

"One thing's for sure, I was damn well proud of her for performing at her biggest crowd at the time just barely two years into her career." Roger spoke again. I looked up and winked at him.

"You guys really do have that father-daughter bond don't you?" Joe said.

"Have ever since she gave me the real 1 and 3/7th's sugar."

"It wasn't until Brian told me the next day that Roger just says that to pull people's leg. God I felt embarrassed after that."

"Aww lovie, but it was due to that I became your favorite. And I don't regret it as I'm sure you don't."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." As Gwilym, Rami and Freddie came back in I continued going through the scrapbook sharing my photos of my days with Queen with the boys, and allowing Freddie to finally hear all the stories that he was denied cause of my grief.

As the night got darker and darker, the young actors at this moment were so full of food and exhausted from a long day's filming they actually passed out along my living room. Joe and Ben cuddled up on the couch, Rami asleep on the recliner, while Gwilym was curled up along the loveseat.

Meanwhile I was watching over them and couldn't help but think it was like seeing my boys all over again. I remember back when I was still an intern and would see the guys all passed out whether at Freddie's parties or in the studio, I always had to provide the guys comfort (which I never minded). So seeing these four young men passed out just brought me a sense of nostalgia.

"I got the spare blankets mom."

"Thank you dear. Your uncles tucked in the spare bedrooms?"

"Uncle Brian's in the room across yours and dad's and uncle Roger is in Georgie's old room."

"Good boy." I then proceeded to cover up and adjust the young actors. I wrapped both Joe and Ben in the same blanket and closed Joe's mouth gently so that he wouldn't drool in his sleep, followed by giving them each a soft kiss goodnight. Without trying to wake him up, I uncurled Gwilym from his pretzel position and covered him up.

I gingerly stroked through his hair before placing a soft kiss to his temple. He groaned and lifted his head up which allowed me to place a pillow underneath him. He hummed in content as he snuggled into it. I then went over to Rami and adjusted the seat so that he would be more comfortable. Pressing the button on our automatic recliner, his legs slowly rose up before finally stopping in full recliner mode.

I tucked him in while looking down at him. God even without the tache it was like looking at Freddie from when I first met him in person at a concert, long before I became an intern. I gently kissed his cheek before faintly stroking his cheek.

Sitting outside along the deck, Freddie and I were looking up at the stars.

"So you think this movie's gonna be a hit?"

"Critics are always hard to please, no matter if it's music or movies. From what I've read of the script yes there's misinformation but that's why it's called a biopic. There's some truth but it's the touch of Hollywood in order to make the film not a boring documentary. But those four boys, they are just how I remember your uncles being when I not only worked with them, but grew up with them hearing their music."

"I wish I had gotten the chance to meet uncle Freddie." Fred said after a brief moment of silence. I turned to him to see him looking down sadly.

"So do I love. He would've loved you as much as he did your brothers and sister. And he would've been over the moon had he found that I had named you after him." I brought my baby close and he wrapped his arms around me as we both looked up at the moon and the stars together.

The star right by the moon glowed the brightest, the very same star that shined just as bright the night after the tribute concert we did back in '92. I couldn't help as a tear slid down my face and a smile spread across my face.

I knew that it was Freddie's star, telling me that he was watching us and that he was proud.

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Aftershock ~ PJM [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 3.1K

↬↬↬Genre: ANGST!

↬↬↬Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

↬↬↬TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions death, Earthquakes, cheating, no happy endings in this one guys, yall really trying to kill me off with the angst here.

It was no secret that Jimin was growing distant from you but you were putting it down to the pressures of his job that was drawing him away from you but lately it had gotten worse.

"What if me and Yerin flew out with you? We could have a family trip in London?" You'd tried suggesting multiple options to Jimin but he shot you down all week telling you about how busy he would be in London, that it wouldn't be any fun for both of you to just sit in a hotel room while he worked all day.

"I can't, it won't be fun for either of you." You sighed looking at the back of his head while he packed up his suitcase for the weekend ahead of him.

"It's just three nights, I'll be back before you know it." He turned around and for a split second you thought he was going to embrace you but he turned to walk out of the room going towards your 10-year-old daughter's bedroom to say goodbye. He kissed the top of her head while she slept, pulling the covers over her body wishing her goodnight before he came back out of the room and came face to face with you.

"But I'm going to miss you," You whispered pulling his tie so he would move closer to you, it had been so long since you'd been this close you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be next to him.

"My plane- I can't do this Y/n," He stared at you as he placed his hands on your arms the usual heart skipping he got whenever he was close to you had faded, the fact that he could look into your eyes and no longer stutter confirmed everything he'd been feeling over the last couple of months. He was falling out of love with you and into love with somebody else,

"When you come back I'll make sure we have some time together as a family, Yerin missed you." You lied to him, Yerin had been growing distant from her father telling you that there was something off she couldn't put her finger on.

"Sounds like a good idea, I'll have Areum find some places for us." He lied again but you couldn't tell when he was lying to you anymore, it used to be so easy to detect but now it had become so normal for him to lie to you there were no telltale signs anymore.

"That sounds good, are Areum and Jungkook going with you this weekend?" You knew Areum and Jungkook really well since they were Jimin's personal assistants at work but Jimin froze as her name fell from your lips, you even smiled as you said her name.

"Areum is but Jungkook isn't, he has some work to be doing in the office. I thought I mentioned that-"

"You did! I'm sorry, I just forgot." The thought of Areum and Jimin being alone in London didn't scare you, your husband loved you so you and you trusted him so you saw no reason to worry about it. Plus Areum was young enough to be Jimin's niece or if you'd had Yerin a few years sooner old enough to be his daughter. She was only 25 while Jimin was 35.

"Oh will you tell her I got us some face masks for the next time she comes over, I remember her mentioning that she loved them before." Jimin hated the fact that you and Areum had bonded it meant what he was doing with her behind your back would hurt all the more if you were to ever find out...Which he wasn't planning on happening until he'd figured out his headspace. He'd felt himself falling out of love with you, after 18 years of being together it was bound to happen eventually.

"I'll tell her when I see her at the airport darling, I have to go." He leant closer to you leaving a small kiss on your lips as he went back into the bedroom. For you the butterflies never stopped, every time he looked at you it was like the first time all over again. Your heart would skip a beat whenever he said your name or came close to you, it was always going to be that way for you.

Areum was waiting in the black SUV outside his house, the driver - Jung Hoseok - was growing more and more impatient with how long Jimin was taken but kept his mouth shut since he liked his job. Jimin was one of the fastest-growing CEO's in the business and everyone wanted to work for him even if it was just a driver or just a cleaner.

"Mr Park, lovely to see you this evening." He greeted as Jimin got into the back of the SUV and sat down beside Areum, as soon as the door shut and you could no longer see Jimin he slipped off his wedding band and placed it into the cup holder of the car - it would be there when he came back from London but he didn't need that holding him back.

"I was thinking we could start our weekend at the natural history museum, they have this exhibit on at the moment that you're going to love." Jimin groaned at Areum tilting her head up to look into her eyes before he laid a gentle kiss on her lips, the butterflies flew into his stomach instantly giving him the feeling he'd missed with you. Hoseok put his head down so he wouldn't have to watch the display happening in the back of his own car. He'd known Jimin for the last 11 years and to see him throw away his marriage with you like that wasn't a nice feeling for him, especially since he'd been close with you as well.

"A little traffic sir, will that be a problem?" Jimin looked away from Areum and to Hoseok who was glancing at him in the mirror,

"No Hoseok that's fine, I'll just close this. We have some business to attend to." Hoseok clicked the button that shut the glass window that saw into the back of the SUV he knew what ''business'' meant it was always the same with all of the CEO's. They'd cheat on their wives without the poor women knowing about it all.

As Saturday rolled around you began to miss Jimin more and more, he'd only been gone one day but it was one day too many to you.

"Jungkook, I've been trying to get hold of you all night," You breathed down the phone as Yerin was at dance practice while you sat outside trying to get Jungkook on the phone.

"I've been swamped in paperwork, Areum is with Jimin so I'm alone at the office. What can I do for your Mrs Park?" You smiled at the fact that he still continued to call you that despite your constant pleas for him to just call you by your first name.

"I want to fly out and surprise my husband so I was hoping you could tell me what hotel to go to and which flight to catch," You'd never been good at this sort of thing which was why Jimin normally had his assistants do everything for the both of you.

"I can organise all of that Mrs Park, but that'll be nice for you both. A weekend away in London," He began clicking through his laptop to find the details on where Areum and Jimin were staying that weekend.

"I hope Jimin sees it that was Jungkook, he'd been so busy lately I barely see him." You laughed softly trying not to rant to the boy who worked for your boss.

"Looks like there's a flight tonight and he's staying in the Clinton hotel so I'll have everything booked for you under your name Mrs Park." He smiled ordered everything right away before looking around his desk, scattered in bits of paper.

"If you're going maybe send Areum back, I need help I'm drowning in paper." He chuckled to you,

"I'll have Hoseok pick you up to take you to the hospital, Mrs Park." You thanked him and hung up the phone waiting for your daughter's practice to be over so you could go home and pack.

"Mrs Park." Hoseok greeted as he opened the door to the black SUV that had been parked outside your house yesterday,

"Thanks, Hobi," You smiled helping Yerin into the back of the car first, it was late at night so she was probably going to sleep throughout the whole flight which was a good thing. You hadn't told her that you were going to see Jimin just that you were going on a girl's trip and wanted everything to be a surprise for her.

"How was your day?" He questioned walking around to the front of the car to start driving towards the airport,

"It was good, I spent most of it packing up though." You frowned looking into the cupholder and Hoseok caught what you were doing, he knew the ring was in there he'd just forgotten to move it.

"Mr Park took it off yesterday, he didn't want to lose it in London." He hated that he was lying for Jimin right to your face but he had no other option, his life depended on keeping his job,

"Oh. Right, that makes sense." You whispered trying not to overthink the small detail but all the other times Jimin's had been away with you he'd worn his ring.

"How was your day Hoseok?" You asked trying to do something to distract yourself from the gut feeling that something was wrong, he was about to answer when he groaned hitting deadlock traffic.

"Looks like we're going to be a little late." Yerin looked up from her tablet to see what was wrong,

"Deadlock, get some rest sweetie I'll wake you up when we get there." You promised her as she started yawning, the tablet was slipped into her bag and she laid her head down on your shoulder to get some rest.

"WATCH IT!" A workman screamed at his friend as he travelled through the airport carrying a glass window panel with another workman, you pulled Yerin closer to you. The feeling that something was wrong hadn't left you since you left the car and nothing felt safe to you right now,

"Walk in front of me, don't wander off." You made her promise you that she wouldn't go anywhere and she nodded at you watching as you held onto her arm tightly trying to make your way towards the terminal you needed.

"We're going to London? With dad?" Yerin questioned as she got a look at the tickets as the flight attendant took the tickets from you. You wasted no time in waiting for her to fight you on this and you walked through the terminal with her, holding onto her hand.

"It'll be nice for us all to just get out for a while." You whispered but that was when you heard screaming, the ground started to move and the sounds around you sounded like thunder.

"Yerin get between a doorway now!" You screamed at her pushing her towards the plane as you saw an elderly woman struggling to stay upright.

"Here." You called out walking with her towards the airport instead of the plane, it was closer for her.

"Shit!" You screamed as she finally made it into the airport but the door slammed shut on you, locking due to the emergency systems in place,

"MUM!" Yerin screamed out watching as you tried to make your way over to her but the ground began to shake rapidly, screams filled the air as rubble began to fall around you, the terminal wasn't structurally sound enough hide inside of and there were no tables for you to hide underneath.

"Yerin! Go and get under something!" You yelled at her, as you went to rush towards the plane to join her it came away from the door as the ground shook some more. The small shakes began to turn violent and the glass windows inside of the terminal smashed, you made your way over to the poles to try and keep yourself from falling but the whole place wobbled.

It stopped, the shaking stopped and everything seemed to calm back down you looked around at the destruction that had been left behind, shards of glass everywhere along with pieces of the building that had begun to cave in on itself,

"Yerin?" You coughed as you inhaled rubble coming from the ceiling,

"Miss, please stay there, there could be-" Before the flight attendant could even say the words aftershock the ground rumble once again and the terminal shook falling towards the floor below you, you screamed out loudly as people watched in horror. Yerin was clutched by a flight attendant so she wouldn't have to watch what had happened.

Areum laughed as Jimin told her that he loved her, laughed. They'd been out to dinner the night before when he finally told her that he was planning on leaving you for her.

"Jimin, I don't do love." The words rung through his ears as she continued to laugh hysterically at him, he'd remembered her telling him that she'd only been sleeping with him to get to a higher place in the company. She'd done the same with all of her other jobs and nothing about the weekend they were spending together meant anything to him, she'd do this with multiple men if she could.

"We will be arriving in Seoul Private Airstrip soon, please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare to land." Jimin frowned coming out of his daydream to hear about the private airstrip, he took the attention of a flight attendant,

"Why are we landing in a private area?" She frowned at him turning on the news on the small TV in front of him, images of an earthquake at the main airport in Seoul filled the screen. Names were running along the bottom of those that had lost their lives, he felt no fear though. You were home waiting for him and he was going to confess everything to you, how much of a mistake he'd made by sleeping with Areum. He was going to come clean about the affair instead of holding it away from you.

"Mrs Park?" You looked up through blurry eyes as a torch was shone into them,

"I'm cold," You whispered looking into the paramedic's eyes as he tried to talk to you,

"We're working on getting you a blanket, can you tell me where you are?" You hissed trying to sit up but you were forced back down into place but it wasn't by a pair of hands, something was pinning you to the floor.

"W-What's that?!" You whimpered out feeling pain spread throughout your body whenever you tried to move,

"One of the beams fell on you Mrs Park, I need you to look at me and focus on me okay?" You were too tired for this, you stared at him trying to focus on what he was saying but you didn't understand anything. He sounded far away from you and everything was too cold,

"Tired." Was all you managed to say to him as you looked around you, bodies were laid on the floor being covered by sheets and you frowned.

"Yerin! My daughter!" It gave you a little fight but you still couldn't move thanks to the beam pinning you to the ground,

"We're working on that Mrs Park but I need you to look at me while we help you," You shook your head begging him to go and find your daughter instead.

"P-Please." Your voice came out croaky as you spat blood out onto the spot beside your head, the paramedic swallowed the lump in his throat. Everyone knew what that meant when someone was throwing up blood in drastic ways like this,

"Mrs Park I'm going to give you something to make the pain go away, okay?!" You nodded your head laying it back against the floor as he pushed a needle into your arm, you hummed as you felt numb from it the second it worked it's way into your blood.

"M-Mr Park is in London, someone has to call him." You mumbled looking at the paramedic as you realised what was happening, the man was holding your hand and had his other hand on a cross around his neck.

"You have to tell him that his assistants know when all the dance practices for Yerin are." The paramedic opened his eyes and sighed at you,

"You should rest-"

"There's too much he needs to know," You cried out tears rolling down your cheeks, you weren't in pain you were just sad that Jimin was never going to hear you tell him you loved him one last time.

"I'm sure he'll know," The paramedic whispered that was when you started to gasp for air and he knew it was coming,

"Shh, it's okay." He whispered stroking hair out of your face as you whimpered, it didn't hurt like they made it sound like it did in the movies. It felt like falling into a deep sleep, almost calm as you looked up at the paramedic trying to comfort you.

Jimin got home to find police knocking on the door Hoseok was talking to them with his head hanging low,

"May I help you?"

"Mr Park." Hoseok panicked looking up from the floor as the police turned to Jimin,

"What's going on?" Jimin felt panic rush through his body as he realised that the police were slowly taking off their hats and holding them across their hearts,

"Mrs Park and Yerin-"

"No. No, they're at home!" He didn't even give the police or Hoseok time to stop him as he pushed through the front door screaming out your names for you to come and see him but you didn't come out.

"Hoseok! W-Why?! Why would she go!? I told her-" He dropped onto his knees as the policemen informed him that you and your daughter had both been involved in the main collapsing of the fifth terminal at the airport.

"We're sorry for your loss Mr Park." He said nothing as they walked out of the house leaving him alone with Hoseok,

"Sir-"

"Leave. I-I need to be alone." Hoseok nodded placing the three rings he had down onto the coffee table beside Jimin who weakly looked at him. Your wedding ring, engagement ring and his wedding ring were together making him feel even worse about everything he'd done to you that weekend and over the last months. He'd ruined his whole relationship over someone that didn't even care for him, he'd lost everything he'd ever loved in a matter of days because he'd been too foolish to see what was right in front of him was perfect.

Tagline:

@snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @callingmyangel @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya

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enby-crisis · 4 years

Text

Wish I was (Dolores) Five x reader

Summary: You knew Five as a kid but when he left it felt like your life was on pause. When he comes back to stop the apocalypse you wake up as your thirteen year old self and seek the academy out

Word Count:1396

Warnings: None

Requested: Yes

1994 April (five years old) You sat under the dogwood tree in your front yard. You were reading a book about flowers and their meanings. Flowers were your friends. No one wanted to hang out with a freak who could grow plants the way you do. It was getting late and with the setting sun, cold. Shivering in your overalls, you pause to think about weather you should go in. Your mother hasn't called you in yet and you wanted to read as much as you could before bed so you stiff it out, knowing she'd make you stay inside if you went back in. There was a strange sound followed by footsteps in the grass behind you. Startled you drop your book and half-spin to peer behind your tree to see a school boy fixing his tie as he looked around your yard. "Hello? My name is (Y/n). What your name?" You ask. You have never seen this kid before but maybe he was new and didn't know about the rumors surrounding your name yet. "Five." He blankly stated. "Five? Like the number?" You question. "Yes like the number." He glanced at your book, "Plants?" "Oh.. um yeah I like plants. I actually really like flowers." You say, hiding the book under your leg. You were not in a hurry to tell him you could spontaneously grow plants out of the palm of your hand. "Well gotta do something in this shithole huh girly?" He noted. "That is not a very nice word." You pout. "You would be right. It's not a very nice word. So don't say it." The boy studied you. "Wanna see something cool?" He asked. You nodded shyly at him. "Yeah." He held his hand out to you and you stood to take it. The second you grabbed his hand he pulled you up and you were across the street from where you stood. You cleared your blurry vision before focusing on Five. "How did you...?" "I can teleport. It's how I ended up at your house. I wanted to see how far I could go." He explained. "I can do something cool too." You rub your face with one hand and drew his attention to the other where a blue tulip blossomed from your palm. "Here you can keep it. I promise it won't die." Five plucked it and smirked at you. "What does it mean?" You smile, "Trust." 1999 December(Ten years old) You sat in the grass, cold but content with looking at the stars. With your mom at work and your babysitter asleep, it was a perfect night to freeze to death trying to find peace in the sky. Until a blue flash of light brought your attention to the previously empty space in front of you. A space where now a smug looking boy in a "private school" uniform stood with his hands pushed in his pockets. "You should be asleep." Five states the obvious. "You should be at the academy reading German or something." You huff in retaliation. Five sighs, pulling his hand out of his pockets and takes his blazer off. He drapes it over you before sitting beside you. You give him a strange look. He shrugs, "I think it looks better on you." You smile to yourself, "Thank you. But why are you here? It's too late for either of us to be up." "Heh you caught me." Five rubs his hands together. "I wanted to run an idea by you." "Okay." You hum. "Do you think I can time travel?" Five asked. "I don't know. I think the real question is do you think you can time travel? Because I didn't know I could do half the thing I could do until I tried." You share. "I think I can but Reginald won't let me try." He pouts. "If you think you can then try. Why?Do you need the old man's approval for everything?" You smile at him. Five jumps up. "You're right. I won't know unless I just do it." You follow him up, "Well when you get to the future come here. To this tree, I'll leave you a present." Five holds his hand out and you hand him back the blazer before he dissipates in a flash of blue. 2019 March (30 years old.) Waking up as a younger version of yourself was not how you planed on spending your day off. You looked like a preteen. Again. After your small fit of angry though, you cleared your head enough to know what step to take next. It was about time you pay a visit to the Umbrella Academy. You researched it on the train back to Texas. It took almost a day to go back home. Once you figured out where the academy was, you walked from the train station to the academy. You braced yourself and knocked then quickly looked down at your vans when the door opened. "Um excuse me can you-" You begin. "(Y/n)?" You hear a male voice say. You look up to see a familiar young boy. "Five?" A million things ran though your head. You had to fight the urge to punch him. But you also had to fight the urge to kiss him. You always loved this boy. Always. Even when he left you to dry when you were teens. You didn't give him that flower for nothing. You though "soulmates" would be pushing it but he was your one and only love. Your blood boils at all the times you tried to date other boys only to be left again and again and this boy was the root of all of that. "Long time no see. You look terrible. Want a margarita?" He quipped, holding up his own alcoholic beverage. This stupid pre-adolescent boy had the audacity to make this a joke. You were not amused. "Five I haven't seen you in almost twenty years and the first time I do see you, you look exactly like you did the night you left- the night you left me. And of course you did something else to ruin my life so I am only going to ask you this one time okay? Why am I twelve?" You rant. "Um long story short? Because I am. Also you're thirteen. Not twelve." Five holds the door open for you and you push past him.

You have never been to the academy before but what you saw wasn't what you expected. From all the stories Five told you when you were kids you expected a boarding school or a prison but this was a house. A home.

"Dolores this is (Y/n)." Pause. "Yeah from when I was a kid." Another pause.

"Shut up, you're embarrassing me." Five said with a blush.

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" You jeered.

Five pointed to the bar where half of a mannequin in a poke-a-dotted shirt sat holding a half melted margarita. "You've got to be kidding me." You sigh, " you left me to live with a doll for twenty years? You know what? Screw you Five. I'm done." You spin on your heels toward the door to leave.

"I got the flower!" Five half-shouted as he pulled your arm to stop you.

You turn back to face him, absolutely shocked that he had remembered a conversation you had two whole years before he got the courage to time travel.

He reached into the pocket of his blazer and pulls out the Forget-me-knot bloom you had planted a year after he disappeared.

"I know what this one means too. And-and I never forgot you either. I'm so sorry I left the way I did. You deserved some kind of warning and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before you left but I love you. I really actually love you and when I I grew up in a future where you weren't there and I think I fixed it. You look like you did the day I left because you're tied to me. This is our second chance. My second chance. If you'll let me have it. There was not a day in my 45 years that I didn't regret leaving without you. I know I can't ever make it up to you but let me try. Please." He confessed.

You smiled, "Okay Five."

@rainbowunicorn763

#number five #five x reader #five hargreeves #number five x reader #tua #tua fanfic #tua x reader #tua season one #five x reader fanfic #fanfic #x reader fanfiction #dolores #five x dolores #The Umbrella Academy #five the umbrella academy

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that-shamrock-vibe · 3 years

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Movie Review: Wonder Woman 1984 (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I haven’t been able to see this movie when it came out here in the U.K, so had to wait until a couple of days after Christmas to both watch and review it. If you haven’t seen this movie by the last week of the year and want to avoid spoilers go and watch it before reading on.

General Reaction:

I have finally seen Wonder Woman 1984, the first new superhero movie I have seen in 2020 outside of The New Mutants and my god it has been a trial to be able to watch this.

Being from the U.K, which was surprisingly a factor with one minor part of this movie, we over here usually get the big blockbusters particularly of the comic-book variety before or on the same day as the U.S. However, thanks to this fakakta pandemic and the new world order that movie studios and theatres find themselves in during 2020, I have been reduced to watching a blockbuster movie for the first time initially on my laptop rather than on the big screen as movies like this should be brought out first as.

I am fully aware that this is a global pandemic and that watching movies in the cinema pales in significance to what needs to be done to combat and eventually defeat this crisis, but being from an area where all cinemas are closed I’m out on a limb basically.

I won’t turn this part of the review into a COVID rant because frankly I am sick of talking about it but I do feel COVID will be a factor with the performance of these upcoming movies.

That being said, the second real world rant factor I have for this is WW1984 I feel has suffered due to constant schedule shifting and I feel a fairly uneven advertising campaign.

I went into this movie not thinking I was going to see the villains the way they are in the trailers or the comics and honestly it does seem that Cheetah and Max Lord, who are both credited Wonder Woman villains, have their roles reversed and the one who you think is going to be the biggest threat pretty much becomes a henchman and the one mainstream fans may not know a lot about is surprisingly the big threat but you’re also meant to feel sympathetic for both of them to a degree.

It seems a complete 180 spin from the first Wonder Woman movie which was a very grounded and gritty WW1 story to now be in the zany 80s...which as a decade has aspects of being zany yes but the way in which this movie plays out genuinely made me think of Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man movies...but the best of them rather than Emo Peter.

There are so many plot points in this movie that more or less spawn from the main McGuffin of the movie which is the Dream Stone allowing people to make wishes but grants them with a sacrifice. The movie has several sub-plots that are the repercussions of the wishes that everyone makes and individually all of these sub-plots are very interesting...it’s when you then try to tie them all together for the big climactic battle that is when you get a bit of a mess,

Also, there is hardly any action in this movie and as both a Wonder Woman movie and a superhero movie in general, I am longing for some action sequences this year and the fact there are almost no good v evil fights would be disappointing, if not for the fact I understand where Patty Jenkins and the writers are trying to accomplish with this movie in comparison to the first movie.

I am not a massive Wonder Woman fan, I know the basics of Diana, the two Wonder Girls, Cheetah and Max Lord enough to understand what is going on. But the one thing that has always drawn me to her is that she is a hero with two distinct sides.

Firstly there’s the warrior that most mainstream fans would be aware of which is more played up in the first movie, but then there’s also the diplomat and the ambassador who attempts to always get across her message of peace which is more played up here.

If I think about it from that perspective, I can forgive the lack of action.

That being said, there is still a jumble of plot points that once you do untangle them all lead to the same conclusion, but there are too many ideas in 2h30 to make the movie coherent.

That’s the main negatives out of the way, the positives somewhat outweigh the negatives, let it be known I did enjoy this movie and there are some brilliant moments and sequences, but a lot of scenes aren’t developed enough or some aspects seem to be kept on the backburner maybe for a sequel.

Characters:

Diana:

We have to start with Wonder Woman herself, but as I mentioned before I am calling her Diana rather than Wonder Woman in my subheading because there wasn’t a lot of Wonder Woman action in this movie. If you’ve seen the trailers you’ve seen pretty much everything.

Going back to that first action piece when we are reintroduced to Wonder Woman at the shopping mall, I do understand why she’s doing what she’s doing by acting as a vigilante rather than a public superhero and not using violence does keep in step with where we first met her in Batman v. Superman during present day where she claims not to be about fighting or saving mankind anymore and to be honest here she does keep with that. She’s given up her Godkiller sword and shield but still makes full use of her lasso of truth along with her bracelets of submission and Aunt Antiope’s Tiara in a defensive manner but never to outwardly cause harm.

But yes, this entire sequence could easily substitute Wonder Woman with Spider-Man and her lasso and tiara with his web-shooters and feel like the good parts of Sam Raimi��s Spider-Man movies. It’s just borderline corny and somewhat cartoonish particularly when she’s saving the two young girls by either dropping them on a rocking horse or spinning them into giant teddy bears.

Also there’s that Cairo highway chase scene which sees Steve and Diana chasing after Max Lord who has just achieved his goal of claiming an army. I both like and dislike this scene. I like the scene for showing the starting effects of Diana’s power loss which is later explained to be the cause of Barbara’s wish to be like her which means she is syphoning Diana’s power.

On the flip-side, I really don’t like the overall action in this scene. Firstly, she seemingly has her armour on underneath her clothes because as she’s getting out the car she has her clothes on one minute and her armour in the next shot with no spinning involved.

Secondly, she gets out the car and starts running almost instantly while the car is still moving...I get she’s a demigoddess and therefore normal laws of motion may not apply to her but there’s no dodgy transition or stumbling or anything, she just starts running...Baywatch style to a remix of her theme which is brilliant but because of her losing her powers she is somewhat weakened and therefore you see her bleed. The whole scene just seems rather sloppy.

Regardless of the somewhat lacklustre action of the movie, Wonder Woman 1984 excels in presenting a different form of battling with words rather than weapons. Diana’s message of hope and love at the end of the movie may be a complete switch around from how she was all for being the god-killer in the first movie where Ares was involved, but it’s definitely a good message and, particularly in these times, a needed message.

Sometimes love and hope is enough, Diana does try and see the best in everyone and cannot understand or comprehend evil unless there is no other option. Ares was the God of War and as such a personification of hate and therefore evil. Max was simply corrupted and misguided and Diana could see that, just as Barbara was.

All of this is sold in Gal Gadot’s performance. You can tell from the start Diana is doing what she’s doing because she feels it is what’s right, but particularly when Steve comes back and the ultimatum is either saving the world or keeping him she is definitely torn at one point. Steve is the only thing she has ever wished for herself other than becoming a warrior and protector so why shouldn’t she be rewarded for her decades of servitude?

Also, much like every movie she appears in, Gal Gadot looks stunning throughout this movie. Not just in her Wonder Woman and Golden Armor but also in her Diana persona, she wears what appears to be a boiler suit at one point in this movie and still looks like it could be modelled on a runway. I know Gal is/was a model but she is never defined by that. When she’s acting she’s an actress first and a model second and the clothes never wear her.

My favourite look of hers which I now have in Funko form is her gala dress because not only does it honour her Amazon roots but it just looks stunning.

Her Wonder Woman armour here is made somewhat more cheesecaky than her other versions and it does make Diana look somewhat like Wonder Woman barbie but because of the vibrant 80s setting this movie is in and particularly with who else shows up in the movie offering a great parallel to it, it actually won me over. If this is how Wonder Woman looks as a diplomat I’ll allow it.

I really do enjoy the parallels between the DCEU’s Diana Prince and Bruce Wayne in terms of the detective/vigilante combination. Because there was little fighting here, Diana was allowed to be the detective more, travelling to different places tracking down Max Lord and figuring out that the Dream Stone is the cause of Steve returning from the dead.

However, while they may be pushing Diana and Bruce together in the present day, Diana’s true love is Steve Trevor and the two do have a fantastic blend of a working and romantic partnership on par, for me, with Ant-Man and the Wasp from the comics.

Outside of Steve though, Diana definitely has no love-loss for other men until the end of this movie. She sees right through Max Lord’s childish bravado at the start of the movie, she’s quick to repel any letchy guy throughout this movie, and it isn’t until Steve effectively gives her permission to move on at the end that she does...albeit seemingly with the man whose body Steve took over which seems a little backwards to me but I’ll allow it.

Wonder Woman also gets some fancy new upgrades in this movie. Not only do we have more functions of the Lasso of Truth with showing memories and broadcasting a voice, but also Diana gets her invisible jet through the means of a new power being able to make things invisible which she says is inherited from her father (Zeus) who used the power to hide Themyscira from the world.

The jet is a great precursor to what comes later because while flying in the jet, Diana talks about her longing to be able to fly which we all know as fans that she can do in pretty much every other incarnation yet all we’ve seen her do in the DCEU is leap long distances.

So the payoff when she actually flies after letting go of Steve finally was fantastic, honestly a fist-pumped the air and startled my dog because I got that excited. I do love how she still uses her lasso to propel herself and swing from lightning because it’s kind of like training wheels but seeing her fly at the very end unaided was everything.

I can’t decide how I feel about the ending, I do love how Diana saved the day in terms of using words over weapons, but it’s the fact she is pretty much looking directly at the camera while giving this big hope and love speech implying that she is talking to us as an audience as well as the world within the movie. It just seems very much a #BeKind movement which, again, is an important message particularly in today’s climate. But why does this need to be in a superhero movie?

Gal Gadot continues to be rather funny in the role as well. As with the first movie though, her humour is never really in jokes or in her actions but rather in serious dry whit. This kind of humour is right up my street. From her rejection of Max’s offer to buy her a TV to teaching Steve about the advancements in the 1980s from his time it was all rather well handled.

Diana simply continues to be a very warm and welcoming hero and Gal Gadot radiates these traits effortlessly. You feel bad whenever she feels bad, you want to cry whenever she cries, you get angry whenever she gets angry and you smile whenever she smiles. Gal Gadot continues to be as perfect in the role of Wonder Woman as Johnny Depp is for Jack Sparrow and Rosario Dawson is Ahsoka Tano.

Max Lord:

Okay so this is where things get complex because, to the best of my knowledge, this version of Max Lord is not the same as the one from the comics or any other media I’ve seen...I genuinely actually think they say Lord isn’t even his actual surname in this movie.

Alright, so this is where I’m slightly conflicted on this character. Maxwell Lord from the comics and Smallville where I first became aware of the character is a meta with the ability to control minds.

Becoming the Dream Stone doesn’t really give him the same power as effectively it makes him a genie but the power of the dream stone being equivalent to that of the Monkey’s Paw which grants wishes with consequences I guess is of similar elk.

Also, it’s not stated but shown that Max has some sort of degenerative condition before obtaining the stone but using the power of the stone seemingly sped up the condition because by the third act of the movie he looked like a shell of a man.

Obviously he knew of this which is why he wanted to utilize the stone’s power to a mass audience in order to grant their wishes and in return syphon their health and wealth but this is why I say that neither he nor Barbara were true villains because they were corrupted by the power the stone gave them.

I have a very weird stance of sympathetic villains, Cheetah is supposed to be a sympathetic villain to a degree but I’ve never really seen Max as such. In Smallville he is pretty much a henchman or underling whereas in Supergirl he was somewhat an anti-hero towards the end but mainly a villain.

I get the movie’s message of “Nothing good comes from hate” is in reference to the stone which was made by a trickster god and as such is inherently corrupt which makes its users also corrupt but not evil. But considering I originally didn’t think Max would be the main antagonist of the movie, when it was revealed he was I wanted to see some evil for evil’s sake behaviour rather than power corrupts twice over.

Also, in relation to his wishing power, the scene in which he tries to go through numerous clients to regain his health does play off a lot like Lucifer luring out people’s greatest desires.

Speaking of the wishes, two aspects of this I want to highlight. Firstly, when he reaches out to the world and grants everyone’s wishes, that one wish the diner lady utters about wanting the Irish to go back to where they come from...as someone of Irish heritage this is that wish I mentioned being from the U.K. was a surprising factor in for me...despite my Irish heritage being of Republic blood rather than Northern.

Secondly, I have now seen this movie twice and I do not know the reason for the weird satellite light that Max was in during the climax. I mean everything was basically going to hell and Max receiving the energy of the wishes and granting the wishes was basically giving him this protective funnel which Wonder Woman couldn’t penetrate, but was the light from the satellites and why did he need the satellites other to broadcast himself which he’s clearly already doing so what’s going on? I may not be making much sense but I genuinely don’t know what was going on at that point.

Pedro Pascal was still very good in this role, he comes across a lot better in the actual movie than he does in the trailers because the shots we see of him in the trailers I genuinely thought he was wearing a hairpiece, and he still might be but it looks more natural throughout the movie.

I know Pascal to be a rather funny individual in interviews and behind the scenes of other projects, but I’ve never seen him actually be funny in character...again I’m not sure how I feel about a comedic villain, but between this role and his role as Agent Whisky in Kingsman: The Golden Circle, he has the makings of a great villain actor.

There were times when Pascal played the character like Steve Carrell voice’s Gru in Despicable Me which again plays into the comedic villain angle but overall I felt his motives were clear and the way in which he went about achieving his goals was bold, ballsy and well executed.

I get why they added a son for Max in this movie and I am glad they stuck with the fact Pedro Pascal is Latino despite I don’t believe the character originally is but it added some diversity to the movie along with Gal Gadot’s Israeli accent. But yeah the point of the son was to personify what Max sacrificed in exchange for his wish because all he wants deep down is to be a success in his son’s eyes and feels this is how to go about it, but when it’s the choice between his son’s safety over the completion of his dynastic plan, similarly to Diana choosing to give up what she wants (Steve) for the greater good, he chooses his son.

Also I will say this. When Alastair tells Max that he already loves him because he’s his dad and strokes his face...Had I actually seen this movie when it came out in the U.K. it would have been two days before the finalé of The Mandalorian Season 2. But because I saw that finalé first and the very emotional scene between Din and Grogu...to see that pretty much replicated here felt slightly lacklustre.

Max doesn’t die at the end, no one dies in this entire movie (technically) so there is room for him to return unless they do another time jump. I’m not sure why he would return unless he goes full villain for villainy sake rather than corruption but I am actually happy he survived.

Having said that, one of Wonder Woman’s most famous moments from the comics is snapping the neck of Maxwell Lord. This could have easily been the climax of the movie but I feel thanks to Man of Steel giving this plot point to Superman when he snapped Zod’s neck, despite chronologically this coming first it would lose it’s momentum,

Cheetah:

I will admit I was not as disappointed with Barbara as I thought I would be going into this movie.

Having said that, I’m going to start with the negatives before talking about the positives of the character.

Firstly, both Barbara and later Cheetah are redheads, Kristen Wiig is naturally not but for the role of the character she could have easily worn a wig or died her hair for the role because not only is Barbara being portrayed as the ditzy blonde at the start of the movie a little redundant at this point, when she became Cheetah it did not look right with her as a blonde.

Now let’s talk about the actual Cheetah look. We’ve seen that one shot of her in the DC Fandome trailer but it was so dark and so quick that there was practically nothing to analyse, seeing her appear in the final 30 minutes of this movie...which is how long she actually appears as Cheetah...it’s both a lot to take in but also a lot to be disappointed in.

So Barbara’s turning point to villainy I feel isn’t when she beats up that man who attempted to assault her, but instead when she fears Diana and Steve are talking about killing Max to save the world because he absorbed the stone and the stone needs to be destroyed to save the world from carnage.

At this point she appears at the White House just as Diana has Max captive, dressed in this admittedly trendy Cheetah-print attire, incapacitates or possibly kills the White House security team and gives both Wonder Woman and Steve a whooping.

Firstly, the very fact there was no mention of the fact Barbara could tell Diana Prince and Wonder Woman were the same person just shows how daft the secret identities of some of these DC Heroes is.

But secondly, when Max retreats, Barbara hitches a ride with him and gets another wish for saving his life. Rather than wishing to be like Diana this time, she wishes to become an Apex Predator and is therefore granted the anger and vengeance of all the people Max grants wishes to via satellite.

This combination somehow turns her into a Cheetah as when we next see her she is Cheetah...a very badly CG’d undeveloped version of Cheetah but this is our Cheetah.

My version of Cheetah is from Injustice 2 and I know a bit of her backstory in the comics enough to know she was an archaeologist who was cursed to become the Cheetah and how in the DC Rebirth Wonder Woman, Barbara and Diana were friends but then when she became Cheetah, she felt betrayed by Diana and became her enemy that way.

That’s kind of similar here but it’s not a Cheetah curse that made her Cheetah, it’s a wish and a very literal interpretation of the wish “I want to become an Apex predator”...what’s an apex predator? A cheetah, get it?

Also as Cheetah, she just looks like Barbara styled her hair different and bought a Cheetah onesie. I wish she had gone full cheetah with the face, instead we get some very weird make-up which seems to wash off when they land in the water and some weird contouring or something to give Kristen Wiig a different nose...they could have continued the Cheetah fur on the face, given her cat-eyes, bigger fangs, something!

Again, Barbara’s villainy stems from power corruption, Barbara’s first wish was wanting to be like Diana and because of this got her powers so went a little bit power mad when she discovered she had super strength and speed.

Interestingly though, despite being electrocuted, Barbara does survive and when all the wishes are renounced she reverts back to a human...or does she?

Keep in mind that we never see Barbara take back her wish, in fact she is quite adamant in not doing that which leads Diana to making the hard call. The fact is it was by Max’s hand that Barbara finally became Cheetah so when he took back the wish of becoming the Dream Stone, that wish was rescinded…but Barbara’s original wish of becoming like Diana and thus gaining the powers of an Amazon demigoddess actually might still be in tact.

It’s implied that she is still pissed at Diana even after reverting back to human, so I do see her returning more than I do Max Lord but in her return I hope there’s a Cheetah redemption.

Steve Trevor:

I am really starting to be won around by Chris Pine as an actor. Originally in my list of “Hollywood Chris’” he was at the bottom because he isn’t Marvel, but now I think I actually would put him ahead of Pratt. Not only do I love him in this role here but also Rise of the Guardians which I’ve re-watched over the holidays.

So when it was announced that Pine would return as Steve Trevor in a movie set decades after the first movie which he died in, I like a lot of fans were curious as to how they were going to accomplish this. I mean we’re dealing with the DC variation of Greek Mythology and so I thought maybe Hades could be a factor, but then when the MacGuffin known officially I think as a Dream Stone became a factor with the trailers, the idea of him being resurrected as a wish by Diana was speculated which was kind of true but there was a catch in that he only came back to Diana but taking over another man’s body.

The movie I think beautifully brings Diana’s childhood lesson taught to her by Aunt Antiope about cheating full circle with the wish she makes to see Steve again. In her defence, Diana did not know what she was doing or that she was actually wishing on a wishing stone, but when she realises the impact that this seemingly innocent wish is having on the world, ultimately she has to wake up to the fact that this is a cheat because Steve is dead but Diana has brought him back in another man’s body...without his consent. Again, NOT DIANA’S FAULT, but she is pseudo-responsible and so can’t win because she cheated. This is a plot point I wish they had developed further or highlighted more because, having seen it twice now in the past 24 hours, that is probably my favourite message of the movie. Cheaters never prosper, not even Wonder Woman or Cheetah.

Steve being introduced to the 1980s was a great chance to reverse the fish out of water story Diana had in the first movie but while hers was one of both wonder and humour, Steve’s was mostly wonder and it was so endearing to see.

I loved how we didn’t take too long on Steve exploring the 80s, I liked how organically it was woven into the ongoing story. We did get that great small touring scene of Diana showing Steve the art and the breakdancing, but that he discovered pop tarts and his wonder in wanting to fly that jet rather than simply get on a plane to travel to Cairo, it was all very well done and that’s mostly on Chris Pine.

I did find the body-snatching a little bit creepy at first and at the very end. We didn’t meet the guy that Steve inhabited (for want of a better word) so I don’t feel strongly positively or negatively about him because we don’t know him, but when we meet him at the end when we somehow flashforward from July to Christmas, I did feel weird that not only did it seem that he and Diana were interested in each other but also the fact it wasn’t even mentioned that he couldn’t remember the time that Steve was in his body.

As I said before when talking about Diana, the blend of the romantic/working relationship between Diana and Steve is (sorry) #relationshipgoals for superhero couplings. I am aware that Steve Trevor isn’t a superhero but neither is Lois Lane but both civilian halves of these superhero couples are very potent in the comics and I have never understood this particular relationship until now.

Steve is as strong a part of the duo as Wonder Woman is because while he doesn’t have her Amazon physiology, he has that core inner strength that he had in the last movie which is why he sacrificed himself originally...now yes he pretty much did the exact same thing here but this was after he was pretty much carrying Diana through that D.C. street and seeing all the chaos that these wishes were causing...genuine anarchy....that Steve knew the only way Diana could regain her strength and save the world was for her to let go of him.

It was the most emotional scene of the movie for me and the only scene to almost make me cry. after crying at the Mandalorian finalé I am not crying at another show or film for a while but still, because not only could you tell both of them didn’t want this to happen but also as Diana pulls herself away from Steve not looking at her as the camera pans away from him you just hear his voice saying “I will always love you Diana, no matter where I am”. There’s never been a more potent portrayal of a superhero couple in my opinion in the movies. Tony and Pepper came close in Avengers: Endgame but this tops it for me.

Do I see Steve returning again? Yes, because I feel when you’re dealing with a property about gods and magic there is always potentiality for anything. I mean this movie is the definition of potentiality for anything because I think if it does succeed then they get away with a lot that other properties wouldn’t, but anyway yes I want Chris Pine to return to this role because I love him in it.

Amazons:

This is another scenario where the advertising lets the audience make up what is in store for us with announcements because announcing that Robin Wright is returning as Antiope after dying at the start of the last movie does raise suspicion.

The obvious solutions were resurrection, vision or flashback and for the majority of Amazon scenes save for one it was all flashbacks which I’m not going to grumble at because I enjoyed that opening scene.

I like how Themyscira basically has their own version of Ninja Warrior and that this scene was most likely set chronologically after Antiope agreed to train her. Which begs the question why her mother was so okay with it considering even as an adult Hippolyta has issues with Diana becoming a warrior but her contribution was so short I let that slide.

I’ve already mentioned how Antiope’s lesson of cheater’s never prosper was utilized so well in this movie but, similarly to Chris Pine, I just love any reason to bring back Robin Wright.

Aside from Hippolyta and Antiope though there was a third minor Amazon focused on in a couple of scenes in this movie, that is the ancient Amazon warrior Asteria.

Asteria was mentioned a couple of times, firstly by Hippolyta in reference to her statue as someone to strive to become and then by Diana to Steve when discussing the origins of her Golden Armor. During this discussion we see a flashback of Asteria in a crouched position being whaled on by Neanderthals protecting the Amazons as they retreated to Themyscira. We only see her eyes and at this point in the movie I thought Asteria was a throwaway character and so Connie Nielson was doing double-time as Hippolyta and Asteria.

However, this proves to be untrue as in the only post-credits scene we get we see Asteria walking down seemingly the same street we left Diana on in Washington, though they never clarify where it is. Furthermore we originally only see the back of her and she is dressed a lot like Diana with the same hair and clothing style. She even effortlessly stops a pillar or lamppost from crashing down.

But it isn’t Diana, at least not the one Gal Gadot is portraying...as it is revealed to be Asteria portrayed by Lynda Carter in a fabulous short, sweet and somewhat cheeky sequence where she states “I’ve been doing this for a long time” with a cheeky wink directly to the camera. I mean she basically echoes lines Diana says in the movie, but the fact it’s OG Wonder Woman and knowing we’re also getting Michael Keaton returning as Batman in the upcoming Flashpoint movie, it’s all just brilliant.

Obviously for fans of the Supergirl series, Lynda Carter had a recurring role on that as Earth-38′s President of the United States who was an alien and I have also seen her in Sky High, but looking at her here she just looks flawless.

Does this mean we’re going to see Asteria in Wonder Woman 3? I can’t wait to find out.

DCEU:

Speaking of the larger DCEU, this movie does absolutely nothing to connect itself to any other DC movie or property. We’re in 1984...Bruce Wayne is 12 so at this point has lost his parents, the original Black Canary is potentially crime-fighting, it’s the year Lex Luthor is born, Clark Kent is living in Smallville, Amanda Waller would just be starting out in the career that would see her become director of ARGUS. There are so many possibilities particularly as we haven’t had a movie set in the 80s within the DCEU before.

This is where DC continues to flounder where Marvel succeeds. They do not grab the opportunities for a cinematic universe expansion and instead keep everything contained. I don’t even think the events of Wonder Woman were mentioned outside of Steve’s death.

Particularly as we now have to wait until August for The Suicide Squad as the next DC movie (outside of the Snyder Cut), it would have been nice either if there would have been a tease to lead into that or even if something in this movie links to the Snyder Cut of Justice League.

Overall I rate this movie a 7/10, it’s a very enjoyable movie if you manage to follow all the threads the plot weaves into this movie, because they’re not seamless.

I’ve actually paid attention to the box office, reviews and CinemaScore for these movies since Birds of Prey and I have to say for being a focussed Wonder Woman movie it is underperforming from the first one with a B+ here as opposed to an A there, but considering Diana’s first outing was in Batman v Superman with a B score, I think the fact both Justice League and this have a B+ bodes well as it averages out with middle of the pack superhero movies, and that’s a good way to describe this movie.

It’s not better than the original, and there are many tangles within it, but it’s not a terrible movie. Again I’ve seen it twice in the last 24 hours and neither time got old for me.

So that’s my review of Wonder Woman 1984, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more DC Movie Reviews as well as other Movie Reviews and posts.

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chocolatequeennk · 3 years

Text

Forever Timeless, 2/23

Summary: Two months after the Dalek Crucible, the Doctor and Rose are getting used to having the biggest family on Earth. As they visit Leadworth in 1996, Victorian England, a mysterious desert planet, and Elizabethan England, those family and friends often help in unexpected ways. But no matter where they go or who they’re with, it’s always the Doctor in the TARDIS with RoseTyler–just as it should be.

Ten x Rose, Donna x Lee

Betaed by @saecookie, @rudennotgingr, @pellaaearien, and @jabber-who-key

Tagging @doctorroseprompts for Doctor/Rose content

Part 7 of Being to Timelessness

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Ch 1

Chapter Two: Another Year, Another Adventure

Rose glanced at the familiar faces standing around the console as she worked quickly to set the coordinates. She tugged at the bond to get the Doctor’s attention. He checked the destination and immediately nodded.

“Barcelona!” he enthused.

Rose smiled and sent them into motion while he started rambling about the planet.

“Gorgeous tropical resort. We’ve been twice. Beautiful beaches, gorgeous waterfalls to hike, and—”

“Dogs with no noses,” Rose said along with him.

Donna raised an eyebrow. “You’re both nutters,” she said, shaking her head. “Dogs with no noses? How do they smell?”

The Doctor giggled. “Exactly!”

Rose planted her feet and everyone quickly grabbed onto something before the TARDIS landed on Barcelona with a teeth-jarring thud. “Barcelona,” Rose said, waving at the door.

Donna and Jenny exchanged a grin, then ran up the ramp and pushed the door open. Brilliant sunlight streamed into the console room, and Rose could smell the salt tang of the ocean in the air.

“Oh, I have missed this!” Donna said.

“Missed travelling the galaxy, or not spending hours on a plane getting someplace?” the Doctor asked.

“Both!”

Jenny and Donna stepped back inside and picked up the bags they’d left by the door. Before they left, Donna turned around and pointed at Rose, then at the Doctor. “All right, we’re going to leave you to celebrate your anniversary on your own. But you’d better come for us on time.”

“Or you’ll do what?” the Doctor retorted.

Rose groaned and pressed her fist to her forehead. She could hear the scowl on Donna’s face when their friend answered the Doctor.

“Or I’ll tie you down and bleach your hair blond,” she snapped.

Rose’s hand dropped to her mouth to hold back a laugh at the horrified expression on the Doctor’s face.

Donna nodded once, sharply. “Excellent. We’ll see you in a week, then.” She left the TARDIS and swung the door shut behind her.

“But… That’s…” The Doctor ran his hands through his hair.

Rose walked over to him and pulled his hands down, then smoothed over the most sticky-up pieces. “Don’t worry, Doctor. I like your hair too much to let her do that to you.”

He straightened his tie and preened. “It is pretty great, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I love your hair.” Rose waited a beat, then said, “So I’ll make sure I’m driving when we go pick them up.”

“Oi!”

The Doctor grabbed for her, but Rose laughed and twisted away from him, adjusting the navigation settings as she went. She felt him following her movements and knew the moment he had remembered they were actually on their way to their own holiday destination.

“So do I finally get to find out what your secret holiday plans are?”

“Well…” she said, stretching it out the way he did. “I’m not sure if it’s check-in time yet.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “This is a time machine,” he reminded her. “Which I’m fairly certain you are aware of.”

“Yeah, you might have mentioned it.”

He raised his eyebrows and gestured at the console. Rose laughed, but she finally obliged him. “Prepare yourself for the holiday of a lifetime,” she said dramatically as she threw the dematerialisation lever.

The ship spun into the Vortex, and Rose twirled the opposite direction, dancing around the console until she was next to the Doctor.

“Do you know what?” she asked.

He grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before finishing the familiar line. “Travelling with you—I love it.”

The TARDIS landed, and the lights in the console room flashed. He looked up at the time rotor. “It seems I’m not the only one excited for this trip.”

Rose slung her deceptively small bag over her shoulder. “We’ve been working on this together. She says you’ve never been anywhere like this before.”

“Welllll, I’m not sure about that. Not this exact place, maybe, but—” The Doctor pulled the door open and stopped talking immediately.

Rose stepped up beside him and took his hand. “Welcome to Critias.”

The idea that had come to her while reading to Tony had taken a firm hold of her mind. As soon as they’d gotten home that night, she’d asked the TARDIS if it was even possible.

Is there a planet like Atlantis? Once they found the answer, they’d jumped at the chance.

The Doctor walked down the narrow alley as if in a trance and pressed his hand to the glass, fingers splayed out. A curious puffer fish swam forward to sniff at his fingers, but when he realised he couldn’t actually reach them, he swam away.

“This is…” The Doctor paused, then shook his head. “This is incredible, love. Thank you.”

“We explore the stars, but we never really touch this frontier,” Rose said.

“Another adventure with you.”

“Another year with you,” Rose corrected. “Happy anniversary, Doctor.”

Really, the Doctor reasoned, there was only one proper response when your bond mate wished you a happy anniversary. And so he wrapped an arm around Rose’s waist and pulled her close for a kiss.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her lips. “I love it.”

Rose pulled back and looked up at him, her nose wrinkled up a little. “Enough that it makes up for not getting a present? I didn’t get a chance to get you anything.”

The Doctor rested his hands on her hips and smiled down at her. “Absolutely. Although…” He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. “I don’t have a gift for you, either.”

Rose laughed. “You helped my mum and Pete set up their furniture last weekend, and you didn’t start one fight with Mum. That covers you for at least our anniversary.”

The Doctor chuckled. “All right. Now, where is this hotel?”

Rose pointed over his shoulder and he turned around to look at the building. It was positioned against the outer wall of the city, and he could easily imagine the kind of views the rooms would have.

He took a few steps down the alley, but Rose grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “I know I was joking when I said it wasn’t check-in time yet, but it really isn’t. I didn’t want to waste half the day by not getting here until mid afternoon.”

The Doctor nodded quickly. “Excellent decision. So, what should we do first?”

“Walk?” Rose suggested. “I can’t get enough of the view from the edge of the city.”

They moved from the alleyway to the path that snaked around the edge of the dome. “No, neither can I,” the Doctor agreed.

A giant piece of brilliant red seaweed floated by, the current picking up little tendrils and tugging them in different directions. A few more metres down the path, they watched a family of seahorses swim by.

“Why did they build a city under the ocean?” the Doctor wondered as they walked.

“I looked into that actually,” Rose said. “The planet was really struggling with overpopulation.”

He snorted. “So they decided to spread into the ocean? They’d squeezed out everyone on the surface and now they’d move into the fishes’ place too?”

Rose pinched him in the side. “Thought you were enjoying the trip,” she said pointedly.

“Oh, I am!” he said quickly. “Just… You know what, never mind. You’re right. So, there were too many humans on the surface—they are humans, it seems?”

Rose shook her head. “Nope. Critians are humanoid—I suppose you could say they look Time Lord—but they aren’t human. I dunno how they’re different exactly, but they are.”

The Doctor bit his tongue before he could launch into a rant on Rassilon spreading the Gallifreyan body type around the galaxy. There was a time and a place, and this was not it.

oOoOo

Their suite was an incredible underwater oasis. The hotel was situated against the main exterior bubble of the city, and each room actually bulged out into the open sea.

The Doctor watched the fish swim by while Rose slept on their first night there. He finally fell asleep as a jellyfish lazily drifted past.

The view when he woke up was not so tranquil. Several long tentacles were wrapped around their domed ceiling, and a giant eye peered in through the glass.

His quick indrawn breath and suddenly tense muscles were enough to wake Rose up. “Wha’s wrong?” she asked groggily.

The Doctor had processed what he was looking at, and he was a little embarrassed to have been so easily startled. “Just found a Peeping Tom,” he said, trying to deflect from his own reaction.

Rose rolled slightly and looked up at the ceiling. The Doctor could feel her trying to grasp what she was seeing, and then finally she giggled. “Look, he’s stuck on you, Doctor.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and huffed. “Really, Rose?”

Rose shifted closer to him, sliding her leg over his and wrapping an arm over his chest. “I dunno,” she whispered against his neck. “Stuck on you’s not so bad.”

The Doctor hissed and tilted his head back when she kissed the sensitive spot on his jaw, just below his ear. Rose smiled and scraped her teeth over the spot before sucking gently.

“Yeah, I like being stuck on you.”

The Doctor’s eyes blinked open, his gaze still met by the steady curiosity of the squid. He arched an eyebrow, then rolled over so he was looking down at Rose. “I’d rather watch you than our friendly cephalopod,” he murmured.

Rose laughed again, just as he pressed his lips to hers.

oOoOo

The squid was long gone by the time the Doctor and Rose were enjoying breakfast in bed. “What do you want to do today?” the Doctor asked in between bites of a fluffy pastry.

She shrugged. “Whatever you want. It’s a new planet to both of us—it might be fun to just hit all the main tourist spots.”

She bit into a pinkish fruit, and her eyes widened. “Try this,” she insisted, holding a bite out for him.

The Doctor wrapped his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand steady, then he bent to pull the fruit off her fork with his teeth. As soon as the flavour hit his tongue, he knew why Rose had been so insistent.

“Mmmm, banana.” He smacked his lips and immediately selected another slice from the tray. “A sea banana,” he added gleefully.

“Did you know there were other fruits in the galaxy that tasted like banana?”

He scoffed. “If I knew there were other perfect foods in the world, we would have them at home.”

Rose shook her head and laughed. “Of course, why did I even ask? I guess finding some sea bananas to take home is going on the list of must-see attractions.”

“Oh yes!”

They shared bites back and forth, enjoying all the unique flavours of Critian food. Once the platter was mostly picked clean, Rose kissed him on the cheek and slid out of bed. “Why don’t you look up things to do while I take a shower? I bet you can find out what that fruit is and where we can get some.”

The Doctor took the tour guide tablet from the nightstand and made quick work of his research. He learned that kaju, the sea banana, was a favourite food of the Critians. There were several speciality food shops selling it, but only one farm you could tour. He’d just booked two tickets for the morning tour when Rose exited the en suite, wrapped in a fluffy white robe.

“Your turn.”

He handed her the tablet. “Why don’t you find something for us to do this afternoon?” he suggested.

Rose waited until she heard the shower running, then she pulled out the outfit she’d hidden at the bottom of their suitcase. The soft denim of her favourite dark jeans fit her perfectly, moulded by countless wears.

But her top… She sighed when the soft wool jumper brushed against her cheek as she pulled it over her head. The TARDIS had put it in her closet yesterday when she’d been packing, and Rose hadn’t needed help connecting the dots.

She’d just laced up her black boots when someone knocked on the door. “Concierge service!”

Rose walked to the door, leaving her leather jacket draped over the chair. A uniformed employee stood on the other side of the door, a tray in hand.

“Hi!”

The concierge held out the tray and Rose took the envelope. “Your tickets to the underwater garden just arrived,” they said.

Rose blinked, then she shook her head. “I don’t suppose that’s where those delicious sea bananas are grown.”

As she asked, she heard the shower turn off. She started a mental countdown to when the Doctor would appear.

The Critian tilted their head, a hint of confusion crossing their face. “If by sea bananas, you mean kaju… then yes, this the one public farm where it is grown. After the tour, you will be able to buy some of the fruit to take home.”

Rose laughed. “I bet we will. Thank you,” she told the alien. The employee bowed and exited the room.

“Who was that?” the Doctor called from their bedroom.

“Concierge services with our tour tickets,” Rose replied.

“Oooh, excellent! I hope they have a little shop. A little shop to buy all the kaju we want! Can you imagine, Rose?”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t need to use my imagination by the end of the day,” Rose said under her breath.

“I heard that!” The Doctor’s voice was coming closer, and Rose rubbed her palms on her jeans. “I’ll have you know…”

His mouth fell open when he saw what she was wearing. From a man as verbose as him, his silence was extremely gratifying. “Doctor?”

The Doctor slowly lowered his hands from his tie and walked towards her. His eyes were dark, and anticipation buzzed through Rose as she waited for his response. “That jumper is mine,” he said, his voice raspy.

Rose bit back a smirk. “The TARDIS put it in my closet,” she told him. “Think that means it’s mine now—possession is nine-tenths of the law, after all.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

The sleeves hung past her wrists, and Rose pressed her wool-covered hand to her cheek. “‘Sides, I like it. It’s soft.”

His fingers twitched, and Rose waited just a second longer before smiling brightly at him. “Come on, we need to get going if we’re going to make our tour.”

The Doctor gaped at her—at Rose, standing just six feet away from him, wearing clothes that used to be his. Rose, who was now giving him a cheeky smile as she waved the tickets in front of his face.

“Don’t you want to go see the kaju farm?” she asked, almost managing to sound innocent.

He growled and moved quickly to pull Rose into his arms. He could hear her heartbeat speed up and his two hearts held tempo with hers.

“Rose Tyler…”

Her pulse was racing now. “Yes Doctor?” She smiled, teasing him with the tip of her tongue.

The Doctor dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers, following her tongue back into her mouth. Rose slid her hands over his shoulders and a moment later, he felt them in his hair.

He shivered, and before he could lose himself in the kiss, he slowly pulled back. Rose’s eyes fluttered open, and her passion-glazed expression tempted him again.

Instead, he slowly removed his hands from her waist, tugging on the hem of the jumper as he pulled away. “We’ll come back to this later,” he promised.

She blinked a few times, then smiled up at him. “Oh, yes,” she agreed.

The Doctor took her hand. “But for now, kaju!” Rose laughed as he pulled her out of their suite, and he giggled along with her.

Rose hip checked the Doctor as they left the hotel. He glanced down at her, his eyebrow raised in question. She smiled and shifted closer to him, putting her free hand on his arm.

Nothing. Just love you, that’s all.

Yeah? I love you too.

The Critias streets were busier than they had been the day before, and they arrived at the garden entrance just as the tour was starting. “Wait wait!” The Doctor waved their tickets over his head. “Two more!”

A teenager waved at them from behind the counter. “I can take your tickets!” she said, her high ponytail bobbing with each word. She smiled brightly when the Doctor handed them over. “Have fun! Corin will show you all around the farm.”

They joined the queue, and a young man with a shock of black hair draped over one eye scowled at them. “We all ready then?” he asked.

“Oh yes!” The Doctor bounced on his toes. “This is going to be the highlight of our trip.”

The guide rolled his eyes and turned around. “Come on. The entrance to the tunnels is this way.”

“Tunnels?” Rose asked as he led them along a boring hallway.

He shot her a look over his shoulder. “Well yeah. Kaju grows under the sea. How did you think we were going to get there?”

Rose had half a mind to call him out for his surly attitude, but the Doctor started talking before she could. “I bet you love your job,” he enthused. “You probably get all the kaju you want, for free.”

The kid huffed. “Why would I want any of that nasty stuff?”

They reached a glass door in the exterior bubble of the city, and he turned around and held his hand up. “All right, listen up everyone!” he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the hum of machinery coming from the next room over. “We have built glass tunnels in a path around the kaju beds. Along the tour, you will see kaju in various stages of growth. At the end, you will have a chance to taste fresh kaju, and to buy any of the products we make in the factory you hear behind you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Please stay with the group at all times. If you do not, you will be escorted out of the tunnels and asked to leave the premises.”

The whole group murmured their assent, and he grunted and opened the doors.

The light in the tunnel was dim. Rose squinted, trying to get a glimpse of the garden before stepping out under the sea. She and the Doctor were at the back of the line, and she gasped when she finally realised why the light was so eerie.

The glass tunnel had formed an arbor for a network of tangled vines. The artificial lights used by the farm filtered through the greenery, like sunlight through the leaves of a thick forest. Rose pressed her hand to the glass and watched the way the leaves drifted in the current.

“Why don’t you like kaju?”

Rose blinked; that was the Doctor’s voice, but it was coming from the other side of the tour group. She looked around and spotted him standing next to their guide, his eyebrow arched in surprise.

Corin was a good six inches shorter than the Doctor, and he scowled up at him. “Because it’s a disgusting fruit and I don’t know why anyone would eat it.”

Determination pulsed over the bond, and Rose groaned. “Excuse me,” she said as she made her way through the tour group to join the Doctor.

“Have you ever had kaju pancakes?” the Doctor asked. “Or kaju toffee pie?”

The kid sneered. “No, thank you.”

He spun on his heel and addressed the whole group. “What you see above you is an arbor of fully grown kaju. As you can see, the plant is a vine that needs some sort of support to grow on. If you’ll follow me, our next stop is a bed of kaju seedlings.”

The group moved slowly through the tunnel. The light changed as the vines overhead thinned. Finally they entered a large, round room, big enough for everyone to look out at the ocean floor.

“Like most vines, kaju can be grown from starts. However, one of the things we sell as a commercial garden are seedlings. Ambitious gardeners buy kaju plants from us to start their own garden.”

“Oh!”

Corin levelled a glare at the Doctor. “They do have to be grown under the ocean, so unless you have a proper growing environment, don’t even bother.”

The Doctor pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. “Right. Yeah,” he said slowly.

Rose narrowed her eyes. We’ve got regular bananas, remember? She wasn’t sure the TARDIS could make an underwater room, and even if she could, Rose had no desire to start a kaju farm.

The Doctor pouted, but she shook her head firmly. Bananas are perfectly good.

Bananas are brilliant! he corrected. Rose raised an eyebrow and the Doctor rolled his eyes. All right, you win.

They were given five minutes to watch the gardeners carefully tend to the young plants, then Corin led them down another tunnel into a different open room.

Row after row of vines draped over arbors spread out around them. “These kaju plants are at the height of their production cycle. Much of the kaju you eat comes from plants just like these.”

The group murmured and spread out to watch the workers carefully trimming the vines and harvesting ripe fruit. Rose blinked when she realised the whole fruit was small and round. It looked much more like an orange than a banana.

“What about fried kaju? Or kaju served with ice cream and chocolate?”

Rose debated pulling the Doctor back, but Corin really deserved to be pestered. He had been rude from the moment the tour started. So instead, she rocked back on her heels and watched.

“I can’t stand the smell, or the taste, or the texture,” the kid spat out. “The seeds get stuck in your teeth and if you eat too much, it stains your tongue bright pink.”

The Doctor backed away half a step and blinked several times. Corin nodded sharply and spun around to walk away.

Rose joined the Doctor then and tugged on his sleeve before he could chase after the kid. You can suggest other preparations later, she told him, feeling slightly mischievous. Maybe he should try kaju bread, or chocolate dipped kaju.

The Doctor nodded, then stuck his tongue out for her to examine. “Ish ma tongue bwight pink?” he asked.

Rose laughed. “Nope, just regular pink. Apparently you haven’t had enough kaju yet.”

It was mesmerising to look at the evenly laid out rows of kaju and the careful way the attendants cared for the vines. But after ten minutes, they were directed down another tunnel, back to a door.

“The garden part of our tour is over,” Corin declared dramatically. “Behind this door, you’ll find the factory where we produce kaju jam and other items for sale. Please take a pair of noise cancelling headphones when you step inside. The machines are incredibly loud.”

Rose winced when he opened the door. The entire group pressed their hands to their ears until they passed through the door and could take a pair of the headphones.

How are we supposed to hear the dulcet tones of our tour guide like this?

She needn’t have worried. His grumpy voice came through the headphones, and when she looked at him, she realised his headset had a microphone as well.

“Today we’re manufacturing kaju pie filling,” he said, gesturing at the conveyor belt where empty glass jars were filled with a creamy, kaju coloured filling. “The filling is produced in that large vat over there.” He pointed up at a vat near the top of the production line. “Raw kaju is cooked down and blended, then sugar and spices are added.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw the Doctor nodding. She shook her head; she had a feeling there was a kaju pie in their future.

They watched the assembly line for a few minutes longer. After the jars were filled with pie filling, lids were tightly sealed on and labels wrapped on the jar. Then they shot down to the end of the line where they were packed in boxes by workers.

“If you’ll follow me.”

The tour group slowly filtered out of the factory back into the blessedly quiet hallway. Two employees were waiting, one ready to take the headphones from them and another with a tray of sliced kaju.

Corin opened the door to the sales room and gestured through it. “That concludes our tour. You are now free to buy as much kaju merchandise as you would like.”

The Doctor sidled up to him. “Have you ever tried kaju bread?” he asked.

The young man’s face turned red, but the Doctor ignored it.

“What about chocolate dipped kaju? Dip slices in chocolate and then freeze them. Fantastic treat for a hot day.” He paused and scratched his sideburn. “Er, is it ever hot here?”

“Listen,” Corin growled. “I do not like kaju. I will never like kaju. It doesn’t matter how it’s prepared, it’s a vile fruit and I refuse to eat it.” He smirked suddenly. “But if you like it so much…”

He ran off quickly before the Doctor could say anything. A moment later he was back with a jar in his hand. “Kaju jam.” He ran off again and returned with two large tubs. “Kaju butter and kaju yogurt.” He left and came back with bags in hand. “Kaju fruit leather, chocolate covered kaju, and dried kaju.”

The Doctor’s arms were full. He stared down at the bounty then up at the guide. “Thank you!”

The uncharacteristic smile melted away into the familiar scowl. “You are an absolute nutter,” the kid growled. Then he spun around and stalked off.

The Doctor heard something rolling on the floor and turned around to see Rose with a trolley. She took a few items out of his hands and they filled the cart with everything the guide had brought.

“What was that about?” the Doctor asked, still wondering what had gotten into the guide.

Rose laughed. “I think he thought that if he brought you enough kaju products, you would realise it was disgusting. Then you’d have to find a way to put it all back.”

“Huh.” The Doctor scratched at his sideburn. “Well, let’s see what other kaju products we can find.”

Thirty minutes later, they left the farm with several bags full of kaju products. By mutual agreement, they detoured to the TARDIS to put it all away.

The ship sang to Rose as they walked through the door, and she started laughing. “Someone’s glad I talked you out of growing our own kaju,” she told the Doctor.

oOoOo

The street lights had shifted from their bright daytime mode to a nighttime setting when the Doctor and Rose finally made their way back to the hotel. Street musicians played beneath the street lights, and stray cats darted into the shadowy corners to hide.

The Doctor swiped their keycard over the pad and the door slid open. It closed silently behind them after they entered the room. Rose tapped the lamp and soft light filled the room.

“So was that a good way to spend our fourth anniversary?”she asked him.

He chuckled. “It was a brilliant way to spend our anniversary,” he agreed as he shrugged out of his coat.

He had just tossed it onto the coat rack when someone knocked sharply on the door. Rose raised an eyebrow, and he grinned at her. “Just a little late night snack I ordered for us,” he told her. “Why don’t you go get settled in the living room and I’ll bring it in.” He waited for her to move into the living room, then tapped the door control.

“Your dessert, sir,” the server said, presenting a covered tray with a flourish.

The Doctor lifted the silver cover just enough to make sure everything was as ordered. Chocolate, kaju, mellora berries, and a decanted bottle of Rigellian wine. Perfect.

“Thank you.” He took the tray and the server nodded once, then walked away.

Rose was curled up on the sofa under a blanket when the Doctor entered the living room. He set the tray down on the coffee table and crossed the room to the fireplace controls. “This will warm things up pretty quickly,” he said once the cheery gaslit flames started.

He stuck his tongue out at Rose as he walked back to her. “I suppose it’s a good thing you filched that jumper from me,” he teased. “They don’t exactly keep the ambient temperature of Critias very warm.”

He started to pour two glasses of the wine, while still watching Rose from the corner of his eye. She rubbed her cheek against the jumper again and shook her head.

“That’s not why I wore it,” she said quietly.

The Doctor set the decanter down and turned to face Rose. Her playful attitude had faded into something softer and warmer. “Then why did you wear it?” he asked, genuinely curious. “To turn me on?”

Her eyes twinkled. “A little. But mostly…” She reached for his hand. “This jumper is something from who you were when I met you. Today’s our anniversary and…” She brushed her thumb over his pulse points. “And I married that Doctor, too.”

The Doctor opened his mouth, but he couldn’t push words past the lump in his throat. Instead, he slid closer to Rose on the sofa and reached for her over the bond at the same time.

I love you. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, and when Rose tipped her face upwards, he took the invitation and pressed a kiss to her lips. I love you now and I loved you then. You are my forever, both past and future.

Rose sighed and scraped her fingernails over his scalp. I loved that you, with your leather jacket and jumpers. I love this you, with your suits and Chucks. You have always been my Doctor.

The Doctor moved his hand down to Rose’s waist so he could pull her closer. As she shifted into his lap, the feeling of soft skin under his hand pulled him out of the kiss. He looked down at the bare leg slung over his own and swallowed.

“Are you…” His voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “Are you wearing anything under that jumper?”

Rose slid her hands over his shoulders and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Why don’t you find out?” she suggested.

The Doctor closed his eyes and took several shallow breaths. Then he shifted his weight and pushed himself to his feet, holding Rose close as he stood up. “I think it’s time for a change in venue.”

oOoOo

A visit to Critias was almost like a beach holiday, except in all the ways it wasn’t. Their ocean view room gave them a view into the underwater life instead of the surface. They didn’t see their squid friend again, but several other forms of sea life floated by to say hello.

They rented diving equipment and went out into the water, but they couldn’t feel the sun on their faces. The marine animals around the resort were so accustomed to visitors that they didn’t move as the Doctor and Rose slowly swam past.

But the strangest difference, and the one that helped Rose when it came time to leave, was that there were no sunsets. She loved watching the sun set over the ocean, but they couldn’t even see the sun from who knew how many leagues under the sea.

There were no stars, either, and after a week beneath the surface of the ocean, both she and the Doctor were ready to be out in the open air.

They packed up their belongings and paid their bill, then walked back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor slung his coat over a strut and circled the console, adjusting the navigation controls as he went. “Be careful,” Rose warned as he spun a dial wildly before stopping it and twisting it into place. “Remember what Donna threatened to do if we don’t pick them up on time.”

He clapped his hands to his head, protecting his hair. “That is not happening,” he declared adamantly. “Not in this lifetime. This body would not look good with platinum blond hair.”

Rose nodded. “Then watch what you’re doing while you’re setting the coordinates.”

The Doctor huffed, but he slowed down, being careful to notch each dial in exactly the right spot. Rose watched, and she nodded when he set the last one in place.

“All right, let’s go.” Being closer to the dematerialisation lever, she grabbed it and shoved it into place.

The TARDIS made a grinding sound as she moved into the Vortex, and Rose stroked the console. “Come on, old girl,” she muttered. “I know you’ll take us where we need to go.” The grinding didn’t stop, but a soft hum joined it. Both Rose and the Doctor let out a breath.

The landing rocked them a little, but they straightened up and walked to the door. The Doctor reached it first and reached for the handle. “Come on, Rose. Let’s enjoy the look on Donna’s face when she realises we’ve made a perfect landing.”

The first thing he registered when he opened the door was that it was night. Well, a few hours off, he reasoned, even as his hearts sank into his plimsolls. Maybe we’re early, even.

But not only was it not morning, they were nowhere near a city. He stared at the large house in front of them, trying to make sense of where they were.

Rose patted him on the arm. “I think you’ll look gorgeous as a blond.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #fic by Nancy #doctorroseprompts #this is your surprise bonus chapter this week #next week we'll be back to every tuesday like always

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nadiaportia · 3 years

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Tarántula

Summary: The new Devil receives a visit from someone from a life that feels like it ended an eternity ago.

Word count: ~4,5k

Because I am a sucker for the reversed routes, of course Lucio’s reversed ending gave me fuel to write down something that could happen at the end of my (still-ongoing) route rewrite. As if this part of a reversed route, it will featured a Devil!MC so if that’s not up your alley, keep on scrolling.

To all others, enjoy 💓

The Devil, or rather the part of the Devil deep down that was still Ximena Rubalcaba y Saavedra, felt the presence of a familiar spirit before being alerted by one of the Wayward Souls of a foreign - a human - soul in its mistress’ realm.

She turned her attention from her pondering on how to proceed with the Prakran resistance led by former Countess, now again Princess, Nadia Satrinava and her sisters when she remembered a face, slender, unblemished light brown skin, a charming smile with impeccable white teeth, shimmering dark eyes, framed by wavy dark reddish-brown hair.

An impulse was sent to her from the guardian of her Gate.

Step aside, sentinel. Let our guest enter.

As you desire, Mistress.

It didn’t take much for the sound of footsteps to echo through the corridors of the otherwise silent Devil’s Castle, where no mortal soul but one dared to walk through.

The clicking of heels on the floor came closer and when the door to the throne room opened, a slender figure entered, dressed in a red so dark a human would have probably mistaken it for black. Silver adorned their neck and shoulders and they took a good look at their surroundings before slowly walking closer to the throne.

“I don’t know what I expected… but it wasn’t this.”

It has been a very long time, or at least felt like one, since she last heard someone speak Calpacian, even as it was the lingua franca of the West, few of its native speakers travelled far these days and those that did were of too little importance to be worth watching.

“What are you doing here?”

Heloisa de Rubalcaba stopped as if it was the first time she had heard the voice; in a certain way, it had to be a novelty to her. Lucio had told the Devil that her voice sounded different than before - back when she had only been a weak and feeble mortal. Now it was steely, sharp and commanding. It wasn’t the voice of someone who could simply be disobeyed.

The glint in her visitor’s brown eyes was something that recalled vague emotions, of evenings spent in houses made of glass, of drinking wine in silver halls and sharp jokes at the expense of the unfortunate souls that hadn’t earned any respect yet.

“Is visiting my little sister a crime these days? Are these the rules of the Vesuvian Empire or of the Devil’s Realm?”

“Answer my question.”

The Devil observed Heloisa with a cool gaze.

She hadn’t changed much in the last three years since the Devil had last seen her, age barely left a mark on her as the years - or what was more likely, she was just exceptionally good at hiding it. Upon looking closely the crow’s feet around her eyes had spread a little further, and the lines on her face were concealed well… but not well enough for the Devil’s eyes.

The Devil didn’t age; she still looked exactly the same as she did on the day the mortal that was before had been so very close to dying, had it not been for the Cold Heart that was now beating in her chest.

There had been some modifications on her, yes, such as the grey patches of her hair that had turned a stark white and the light grey streaks were among her black curls. Then there were the cloven hooves, the horns that were now spouting from her head and what was surprisingly enough the most unsettling: the golden eyes with a black sclera.

After some time of getting used to it the part of her that still clung onto her humanity as fiercely as a frightened child to its mother had accepted the changes as something natural that couldn’t be reversed anymore.

“It is very much the truth. How could I possibly have ulterior motives than simply stopping by for a simple ‘Hello’.”

“I mustn’t remind you how our last encounter ended.”

Heloisa pursed her lips.

“And here I thought your ascension to godhood would make you any less prone to bearing grudges! Some things never change. If you want an apology from me, you can have it, but I’m genuinely surprised to see you still care about that little stunt. After all, shouldn’t you be long above that? Above all mortal affairs from back then?”

The Devil gave her a bored look and put her arms on the rests to each side of her throne.

“You’re correct - I don’t have it within me to care about the past. Who showed you the way to my realm?”

Heloisa stepped closer, pretending to casually watch her long nails as she did so.

“A little bird came to me and chirped in front of my window, of ways to enter the magical realms. Now, that little bird had less than good intentions and probably believes I won’t return from my journey, but I intend on disappointing them. If they wouldn’t be a cold-hearted bastard who cares for none other than themselves, one might say they resent you for turning their relatively laissez-faire boss into minced goat meat.”

“Valdemar. A surprise that one such as you who prides herself on her cunning, would make a deal with a Demon.” There was a hint of amusement in the Devil’s voice. Heloisa scoffed.

“Oh please, of course I didn’t. They gave me what I wanted for free; it wouldn’t surprise me if they’re lurking somewhere here and hoping for some chaos to be unleashed.”

“Surely not. I would’ve noticed a presence like that once it enters my borders.”

Heloisa grinned. “Running a tight ship I see. I have a lot of respect for that. You really turned that shithole Vesuvia into a respectable city-state, even Nadia couldn’t accomplish this.” She paused. “Talking about Vesuvia… where’s whatshisname? Y’know, your guy… your personal warmonger? Plaything? Roué?”

“My husband is—” The Devil began but Heloisa broke into roaring laughter that pearled off the walls and rang through her ears.

She had never liked that laugh a lot but now she felt as if it had desecrated something in her Castle.

“Your husband?” She said in between laughs. “Oh, you have got to be joking! Really, him? And you guys had a ceremony here? Who were your witnesses, the sentinel that led me to the castle?” She wiped a non-existent tear from the corner of her eye but was still grinning broadly. “Oh, how I wish you were lying but I can tell by your face it’s the sad truth. Well, not a surprise but still unwelcome.”

The Devil drummed onto the armrest of her throne with her long dark clawed fingers. Her voice was so sharp it could’ve cut through marble and she had an unamused quirk in her brow.

“...As I was saying, my husband is currently in Firent negotiating with the Papess about her terms of surrender. After that he will return to Prakra to finish this senseless siege. And his name is Lucio — treat him with the respect deserving of a powerful monarch.”

Heloisa scoffed. “What do you want to do, force me to like him?”

“Remember, you are only a guest because I’m allowing it.”

For a few heartbeats there was silence in the throne room. Then Heloisa clapped her hands.

“Anyway, my most earnest congratulations. I hope he makes you happy in whichever way, assuming you still are capable of such mortal emotions,” She shook her head, still smiling. “For fuck’s sake, first Bela, now you, I really am the eternal bachelorette among us. I don’t understand the sentiment of wanting to tie yourself to a person, especially if that person is — just stating a fact here — not on your level. Y’know, Ippolita tried to convince me a couple of times, especially during my house arrest, that we could run off together, take a ship at the port, sailing away into the sunset and never look ba—”

“Don’t waste my time with your personal affairs.” She remembered Ippolita — a skilled warrior, loyal servant to Grand General Esmerelda Rubalcaba and the only one among Heloisa’s many lovers who had remained by her side after years, but their relationship never something out in the open; a high-born noble and a simple foreign commoner who survived in the pits by becoming an assassin was simply not the ideal relationship to be in for someone of Heloisa’s status. “You’re not here just to chat, so get to the point.”

Heloisa regarded the Devil of whom she still thought wholly as her sister and cleared her throat.

“Fine. Since you mentioned Prakra and I happen to have,”, the corners of her mouth twitched, “heard of the difficulties your, ah, ‘husband’ has with securing a victory over the Satrinavas and their remaining hosts… I have a proposal to make.”

The Devil leaned forward on steepled fingers. She had a suspicion as to where this could be going.

“Go on. I am listening.”

“Alright, so we know that dearest Nadia and her sisters are still holding the territory around and of the Star Lakes. The capital of Prakra not only is quite beautiful but also one of the strongest fortresses due to its location, which at the same time could become its undoing. But this isn’t about breaking through their defenses, with the Prakran Royal Fleet scourging the waters an attack from your troops is virtually impossible unless you happen to bring ships or heavy artillery with you… or are currently building them.”

The Devil scoffed in annoyance. Of course she knew why exactly the situation at the Star Lakes was so bothersome, easy on the surface, nasty underneath it.

Whenever Lucio returned from Prakra to her, he was particularly agitated and prone to irritation, at times ranting to her extensively about everything that was going wrong in this particular campaign.

Her own frustration came mostly from having actual trouble with getting past the magical and alchemical defenses, and she knew exactly why. The amount of times the Devil had cursed the name of Sayelle bint Zahir were too many to be counted at this point, and what stung even deeper that this came from someone who had been more than a simple ally to her in a previous life — a friend, maybe one of her best.

“It’s about breaking their spirits, their composure, y’know, engaging in a little bit of my preferred form of warfare: the psychological type,” Heloisa gave her a confident grin. “Your beau cannot get to the capital, but you need someone behind enemy lines who is able to get you insider knowledge or even,” her grin grew wider, “gain the Satrinavas’ trust.”

The Devil stared at Heloisa, then she chuckled. “Nadia will kill you on sight.”

It was a futile plan, soaked in Heloisa’s hubris and plagued by underestimating how smart the Satrinavas were, how powerful a magician Sayelle was, how united the Prakrans as a whole were in their opposition to the Vesuvians.

“No, she won’t. We have a history.”

“Yes, the history of you wanting to merge the mortal and magical realms so the Devil could help you with getting rid of Esmerelda. That is exactly why she would not hear you out.” The Devil’s lips curved into a deep frown. It was near certain suicide.

“I mean, yes, that obviously happened as well but it’s basically common knowledge that they’re sitting ducks and as such desperately in need of help. I have aided Nadia once already, back when the Plague was running amok through Vesuvia. Even when I was helping the previous Devil I told her I would put in a good word for her. She is aware of that and my immense dislike for Lucio,” she paused and sneered, “... who by all means is my brother-in-law and family now. By the way, do you want me to tell that to the others, or would you rather be the bearer of good news at some point?”

The Devil ignored the last statement and sighed deeply. “They would take any help that is offered to them, that’s what you think. Even if this helping hand is attached to your body.”

“Of course. I am known for my generosity after all, and of course for my lack of interest in war — you can thank me for building that reputation for the last fourteen years after you made everything go tits up.” Her tone was joking but the edge to it spoke differently. There was a fire smoldering deep within Heloisa, and the Devil made sure to not forget about its existence.

“Besides… I wasn't the Information Minister for nothing — I know what people respond most easily, and given their situation this will be more than easy pickings. Give me a handful of people who hand out flyers, have someone convince the Prakrans that if they surrender the bloodshed will stop, and you have basically won. ‘Thank you so much for your wisdom, Heloisa, most beloved of my sisters!’ ‘You’re more than welcome, Ximena.’”

The Devil didn’t reply like this. Instead she said, “I will stop the bloodshed as soon as Queen Nasrin surrenders. I wish to have Nafizah and especially Nadia as allies, not enemies. It is a shame indeed things came to be this way but there is a future for the Vesuvian-Prakran relations.”

Heloisa’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Even after you led an unprovoked war against them? I don’t mean to rain on that parade you have surely already planned all the way through, but if Nadia intends to fight until the very end… I don’t think a surrender is an option. Better to install a new Prakran ruler, one who is sympathetic to Vesuvia.”

The Devil considered her words and found herself agreeing with them begrudgingly. It was probably true; Nadia’s hatred for her, the perceived betrayal and the losses on her side weighed heavily but it was rather that she didn’t wish to take extreme measures against her. She was smart, politically adept, brave and a genuinely caring ruler - useful qualities to have in a human ally.

“No. Nadia will see reason, she has to.”

Heloisa rubbed her temples. “Do you want to her to adopt your way of seeing the world with a sword at her throat? Word of advice: that rarely works ever.”

The Devil scoffed.

“But if you have a better strategy of how to beat the Satrinavas, I am all ears. If you’re worried about my safety,”, she put a hand over her heart, “which I would consider quite heartwarming, I wouldn’t even need to go by myself but for the sake of authenticity, it’d be for the worst — but don’t worry,” Heloisa winked, “I know how to take care of myself.”

There was something about blood relations that had always dimmed her perceptiveness as a mortal; it worked well enough on people in general given they had a rudimentary knowledge in magic, could be difficult if the subject had enough magical affinity and was near impossible on trained magicians and of course on residents of the magical realms.

Now that she was more powerful, looking into the hearts and minds of the residents of the mortal realms came as easy to her as breathing came to them. That powerful magicians such as Sayelle or even Asra were able to hide themselves without great troubles was bothersome but barely a surprise.

But Heloisa, who was about as magically adept as a houseplant, was a complete blank slate to her — she could sense her life force, her aura fitting for someone with a strong personality and much subdued her feelings, but what really mattered to her, the notion of her true intentions… It was like standing in front of a polished mirror.

It was forcing her to act according to knowledge of their time as sisters… something she would’ve preferred to avoid completely.

The only person she allowed her humanity to resurface with was Lucio… and he was who he was.

“Hm. I will give the matter thought.” She leaned forwards. “Something tells me that this still isn’t all you’re here for.”

Heloisa let out a defeated dramatic sigh. “You caught me red-handed. That was only the first matter why I am here. Consider it an olive branch, a token of forgiveness and potential allyship between us, Ximenita.”

The nickname out of her mouth made the Devil frown. Not only was she the first human besides Lucio to laugh here but also the one to address her as… something so much lesser. He was allowed to do that, and no one else.

For a moment, the Devil considered reminding Heloisa who exactly she was talking to, but she halted before she acted rashly.

She had always been vindictive and resentful, never forgetting injury to her person of any sort. It would… be an easy way to let grievances fester, and at this very moment that was more than counterproductive.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Speak.”

“What are your plans for Calpacia, specifically? I wonder why the Army of the Vesuvian Empire isn’t already at our borders, demanding our surrender. Hjalle and Nevivon were the first to fall, then Zadith and Venterre and yet there are none of your men - because they are your men, I know that - are to be seen near Calpacia, or Karnassos for that matter because you know that if you attack Karnassos you will feel Calpacia’s wrath.”

Heloisa tilted her head and regarded her with an inquisitive look. The quirk in her eyebrow betrayed her though, it was meant to be a dig.

“Are you afraid of facing your past or simply too nostalgic to see us being destroyed?”

The Devil’s eyes widened but she bit down her fury. I have no reason to be scared of you.

“I do know that our magical defenses are strong, you know better than I how exactly the Guild worked but ever since it was overtaken by these zealots, the Court is counting themselves very lucky it is strong enough a pillar to not be swept to the side by them, in no small part due to our strengthening influence. If we weren’t there, you might have a very unpredictable enemy at your hands. But that doesn’t explain your lack of interest in us.”

Heloisa laughed, and the light sound pierced through the Devil’s ears.

“Unless all of this hard work is meant for us. Is that the case?”

The Devil raised herself from her throne and looked at Heloisa down her nose. She let her take a look at the new ruler of this realm and how much she has changed.

“You give yourself too much credit. My vision is greater than seeing Cartagenth together with its repulsive ruling body and the Zaan burn to the ground.”

“Do tell me though what exactly your vision consists of; uniting the entire world under your Vesuvian Empire so no one steps out of line ever? This reminds me of the plan someone once wanted to hatch, I can’t for the life of me remember who had that idea but I remember a certain young woman being so utterly displeased with that she preferred exile to being around her vicious family.”

Heloisa’s smile was more a baring of teeth now than anything else.

“Where is she now? Does she still have the moral high ground? Does she still feel like a good person who is so much better than her sisters?”

The Devil ground her teeth. She felt her face and ears heat up and could only hope that the red lighting of the throne room worked in her benefit.

“If I had known that one day you’d be exactly what you tried to oppose back then, I would’ve laughed right in your face and told you to get fucked,” she sneered and gave her a look of pure contempt. “You got some nerve to throw us, your family, to the wolves without a second thought, and not twelve years later you are doing the exact same shit you hated us for ever since. How does it feel, knowing that at the end of the day, you’re just like us?”

The Devil closed her eyes. She wouldn’t let herself be provoked by Heloisa, after all she was so very wrong with everything she was saying.

“All of this business with the previous Devil happened because the construction of the realms was fundamentally flawed. I intend on setting things right for once and all under one ruler so that it will not happen again. How I go about that is not of importance to you.”

“It sure as hell is, after all I have a place in this world as well!,” Heloisa exclaimed. In her agitation she stood only ten feet away from her, too close of the Devil’s liking.

“You replaced the Devil after allegedly saving the world from certain destruction and now that you settled, you decide to do just continue his work — except that you think of yourself in the right, as some sort of god-empress or whatever the fuck. But I will tell what you are: you’re just as rotten, self-serving and power-hungry as us,” She laughed, humourless and cold. “No, you’re even worse because you’re also a self-righteous hypocritical piece of shit. You might be even worse than Esmé.”

“Don’t you ever compare me to Esmé!”

The Devil’s voice cracked like a whip and rumbled louder than ever before. Her face was a furious grimace so terrifying Heloisa had to advert her eyes, eyes glowing, long hair billowing and floating around her, and feeling its mistress’ fury, the realm let lightning flash and thunder roar.

And yet, Heloisa did little more than keep her eyes shut, her face away from the demonstration of absolute arcane power and stand planted on the spot, her delicate hands balled into tight fists and her body trembling, either out of fury or fear.

The Devil took a deep breath through her nose, taking in the sulphur-stained air of her realm. As she continued breathing, her fury left her body and she felt the Cold Heart within her slow down its enraged pace.

“It’d be for the best if you leave right now. Don’t test my patience and don’t think of coming back. You’re not welcome in this Realm for as long as I have the say in here.”

Heloisa turned to look at the Devil, tears dwelling in her eyes and a very faint but visible enough drop of blood trailing out of her nose. She dabbed at it, grimaced at its sight and wiped it off with the back of her hand.

“Before I forcibly make you leave.”

“Give me two more minutes of your time; you haven’t listened to my actual proposal. Then I’m gone, unless you want me to come back afterwards.” She cleared her throat and tried to regain her composure.

There was nothing more the Devil wanted to do than throw her back into the mortal realms and hopefully into the deepest and darkest pit that could be found there. But she gave Heloisa de Rubalcaba a small nod. Two minutes, nothing more.

“I sympathize with your course of actions, I really do. If I were you, I personally would have rained fire, brimstone and bloody vengeance on Calpacia, everyone who had wronged me and especially Tía Esmé, both out of spite and to rid the world of her, and in the aftermath leave nothing behind but scorched and salted earth. But this is my nature, not yours. That’s why I’m giving you an alternative course of action.”

She hesitated but then approached the throne over the steps.

“I have many allies at the Court, I’m in the Zaan Saturnino’s favour, Cibela has been just a few steps away from open rebellion against Tía Esmé and to be frank, everyone is tired of the current situation. On paper you are disowned and exiled but in reality and despite everything, you are still Ximena de Rubalcaba, third in the line of succession of the title, and the Court knows that. There are people who would give you actual loyalty for who you are, not because they were forced to kiss the ring on a foreign conqueror’s hand.” With each step Heloisa seemed to gain confidence, until she stood just three feet in front of the throne.

Ximena had almost forgotten how small she was able to look.

“Let me be your agent in Cartagenth and I will give you our home as a gift of reconciliation and a token of my loyalty for you.”

She sighed. The Devil didn’t react, and was careful not to. This is a trick.

“What about the part of me being a ‘self-righteous hypocritical piece of shit’? Are these the words of a loyal vassal?”

Heloisa scoffed and a nervous smile played around her lips. “Of course not; they’re sisterly advice. If you can’t stomach honesty, then that’s your business. If you want to pay me back, come up with an insult on your own though.”

“Why reconciliation?”

Heloisa blinked at the question. “Because,” she began slowly. “I was hoping…” She fidgeted with her fingers, something she never did because a Rubalcaba never showed uncertainty to anyone.

“I thought it would be nice if there was a chance that we could be… sisters once again.”

Something within the Devil stirred and she frowned.

“That is a bridge burned a long time ago,” she stated quietly. It had been for the best, for her own best.

“It doesn’t need to. I can only imagine how lonely you are - because I have been too. Don’t you think I missed having you around? Someone in this pit of vipers that is Cartagenth I can trust in, not solely bound by blood but by genuine familial love and despite our differences.”

The Devil tried to find any hint of a lie in Heloisa’s eyes, eyes that looked so much like hers back when she was a mortal, and there was… nothing. No deception, no falsehoods, but a definite truth.

“I wish to help you, dearest Xime. I understand why you might seek havoc and destruction, the gods know that lashing out at this world and all its obstacles is something I have always done in my own way, but I want to make things easier for you. I know you wish to convince your enemies to become allies before anything and that waging a war of conquest is not your ideal vision… so I’m sparing you any guilt you might have over more shed blood that didn’t need to be spilled.”

She sighed. “I will be leaving for Prakra within the next few days, whether you want me to or not, with a small entourage. I will find a way to contact the Vesuvians or you once I am in the Satrinava castle.”

“I have not yet accepted your proposal.”

“Oh, I don’t need you to. Consider it a show of good faith.” She reached out, with her brows furrowed and gently touched her shoulder. The Devil remained where she was, showing no reaction to the first skin contact with another human who wasn’t her lover in years.

“Until then, sweet sister.” Heloisa leaned forwards, her perfume smelt of almond, bergamot, coffee and lemon. She pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek and the moment her soft lips made contact, it was as if a small shock of magic burned her skin.

She was the Devil and this burning fire within her that was the yearning for a humanity that had once been bothered her. It could make her vulnerable, allow others to deceive her.

It was not something she could allow to persist within her.

#the arcana #the arcana fanfiction #the arcana fan apprentice #the arcana writing #the arcana original character #ximena rubalcaba #heloisa de rubalcaba #i dont even know what to comment in the tags on all of this bc its SO MUCH but the most important thing is that heloisa is truly That Bitch #there is an epilogue floating around in my mind where lucio pops up after that final chapter and he and xime strategize #and come to the conclusion that theyll do this even tho all the little alarm bells in their heads are going off #but oh well it didnt fit in very well bc this is a sisterly professional girlboss VS vengeful ex mortal now deity moment

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years

Text

I Can Hear Your Voice

Summary: Analogical Soulmate AU! Where you can hear your soulmate’s voice no matter how far apart you are.

Word Count: 1,576

Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01 @spoopy-turtle @lizluvscupcakes @far-too-many-fandoms-to-die

Virgil had never met Logan, but loved him with all his heart. Logan had always been there for him, always been with him. The first time he was aware of him was in kindergarten. That was when the teachers told him of soulmates. He was told that the soulmate was just a few words away, they could hear everything you said. That was when he and Logan had been first introduced.

Over time, he got used to having a voice in his head that only he could hear. He also got used to talking aloud more often. Sometimes, he would just hum while he was doing something and Logan would send back an answering hum. Other times, he would sing and Logan would ask what song it was. Most times, he would speak aloud to an empty room and get responses.

As they grew older, they found times when they needed to be quiet, such as when Logan got into meetings in his career. But there were also times when they would deliberately talk, like when Logan helped Virgil down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a presentation. Sometimes, one would be driving and, instead of playing music, ask the other to read to them.

Virgil found it fun to be Logan’s audiobook, trying to put a voice to each character and a separate voice for the narrator. Logan did the same with him, voice coming alive with numerous accents in order to create a whole world with just his speech.

Today started off as a normal day. Virgil woke up and said a quiet, “Good morning,” to the empty room.

A chuckle sounded in a space that felt like directly behind Virgil but was actually a few hundred miles away. “Are you just now getting up?”

Virgil rolled over, bleary eyes trying to read the clock. “What time is it?”

“For you? Probably about eleven in the morning. By the way, how are we feeling this morning?”

Virgil smiled at the question. “More androgynous right now while leaning toward male.”

“So they/them for now, yes?”

Virgil smiled, grateful their soulmate accepted them as genderfluid. “Yes, please.”

“Alright, starlight. Time to start the day.”

Virgil stretched, releasing an unintelligible sound. “What chapter were we last on?” They asked as they rolled out of bed.

Logan began reading as Virgil went about their morning routine, grabbing the gym bag by the door on their way out and heading to the dance studio. Logan said he had to go into a meeting so had to stop reading and Virgil said goodbye, turning on the music. They stretched before they began, listening as Logan switched from the tone he used just with them to his business voice. Virgil smiled as they lost themselves in the unique combination of music and Logan’s voice, letting his body flow as a warm-up.

They lay on the floor, panting as Logan concluded his meeting. There was a smile in his voice as he asked, “Did you have a good session?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. You have a good meeting? You sounded frustrated towards the end.”

Logan sighed as Virgil imagined him running his hand through his hair. “Just people being idiots. Nothing to worry about.” They sat in silence together for a few minutes before Logan spoke again. “So, do we want to talk about last night?”

Virgil laughed, shifting his legs to be more comfortable. “No, I don’t think we do. You know how I can be.”

“Yes, I do. It was also very hard to keep my focus on my work with that going in my head.”

Virgil laughed. “You should have been asleep anyways, Mr. I’m only an hour behind you.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, I also realize that you have insomnia. That does not give you the excuse to rant about the merits of the written word and compare and contrast them to those of the drawn world. Nor does it give you the excuse to almost break into tears over the beauty of them working together to enhance each other.”

Virgil chuckled. “Alright, fair point.”

They stood and began to gather their things, the rest of the day progressing smoothly. The night rolled around, Logan having a lot of things to get done. So, Virgil decided that it would be a good time to practice his singing. Logan chuckled as he started but soon quieted as he focused on the papers he had to go through as Virgil faded into a very welcome background noise.

Finally, Virgil’s voice trailed off as they stared up at the stars and wondered if Logan was seeing the same stars they were, gazing at the same moon. They sighed. “Logan?”

Logan hummed. “Yes, darling?”

They watched an airplane fly by. “Can we pretend that airplanes are shooting stars?”

Logan paused. “Are you okay?”

“I could really use a wish right now.”

“Talk to me, baby. What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

Virgil sighed. “I’m feeling more male right now.”

“Alright, dear. What’s wrong, my little prince?”

Virgil stood, shutting his blinds before he moved to the couch. “I don’t know. I don’t feel well but know I’m in perfect health, probably better health than you. I wish moments like this would stretch on forever, staying in this peace and serenity.”

“I know just how you feel. Sometimes, I don’t want to leave a moment that I feel safe in. Just wait a bit longer and you will find another safe moment.”

Virgil sighed, flopping onto his back. “I know. I’m just tired of being tired. I want something to change but I don’t know what. I guess I just need to sleep.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

Virgil made a noise of agreement as he headed off to bed.

The next morning, Virgil was feeling feminine so put on a skirt, twirling as she liked the way it felt against her skin. She wandered over to her computer and ate breakfast while searching the symptoms of yesterday on the internet. “Ahhh.” She said.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

“I think I found out why I was feeling so bad yesterday.”

“And what would that be, starlight?”

“I was having an anxiety attack.” She said it casually, as if she were discussing the grocery list.

“Are you feeling any better now?”

“Yes, I think I am. How are you this fine morning?”

He chuckled. “Busy traveling for work. I’m having to work on moving to a new office so you might hear me muttering at the GPS for a while.”

Virgil laughed. “Would you like an audiobook? I can pick up where we left off yesterday.”

A smile invaded Logan’s voice, a sound Vigil had only ever heard directed at her. “Yes, please. Oh! Before I forget, which gender would you like to be perceived as at the moment?”

Virgil smirked. “Currently female. Leaning a bit toward agender today.”

“How shall I refer to you while agender?”

“You always ask me how I want to be perceived. Whenever I’m agender, I just want to be perceived as a threat.”

Logan laughed. “Alright, princess. A threat you shall be.”

Virgil giggled as she skipped off to get the book they were reading.

The sound of a car passing didn’t usually bother Virgil as they were used to it, living on a semi-busy road as they were. However, the sound of a car stopping outside their house did give them cause for concern. They got up, pausing mid sentence and went to look out the window.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked, his concern evident.

Virgil paused. “I don’t know. A car just pulled into my driveway and turned off.”

“Isn’t that normal for you? You did say you live on a busy road.”

“It’s normal to hear them pull in, but that’s usually just to turn around. They don’t usually park on my driveway if they are visiting the neighbors.”

Logan chuckled even as the car’s door opened. “I guess the jig is up, as they say.” The man stepping out of the car was tall and well dressed in a neat black suit with a patterned blue tie. He smiled and waved at Virgil, who ducked behind their blinds.

“The person got out of the car and waved at me.”

Logan laughed again, a knock sounding at the door. “How about you answer your door?”

Virgil froze as the information Logan gave finally sank in. “You're actually here?”

“Yes, I am.”

Virgil slid across the floor in their socked feet, fumbling with the lock before throwing the door open.

Logan stared as his eyes traveled the length of Vigil’s body, taking in the bright skirt and socks before going back up to linger just long enough on the band t-shirt to read it. His eyes finally made it back to Virgil’s and he smiled. “You’re gorgeous.” Was all he said.

Virgil threw themselves into his arms, smiling widely. “I can’t believe you’re really here!” Pulling back, they paused. “Were you lying about having to go on a business trip?”

Logan smiled, shaking his head. “No. My company recently opened a branch here and I volunteered to go help out. I also still need a place to stay, so-”

“You can crash here, I don’t mind at all.” Virgil rushed before Logan could finish.

He chuckled, pulling his soulmate closer. “Nothing would make me happier.”

#analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #soulmate au #ace writes

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

Text

July 17: 2x26 Assignment: Earth

Finally finished up S2 of TOS yesterday. That was... a rough episode tbh. I’m just gonna say it: back door pilots are bad! They’re bad. If I wanted to watch that other show, I’d watch it.

Wow, they’re just really jumping right in, huh? “Here we are, on a routine mission into the past, using a time travel method that we invented nbd.”

Investigating desperate problems in the year 2020...2016.... no wait 1968.

Ooh, Spock in the transport room today. Does he have a whole extra random station there? That’s so weird; I’ve never seen that before. It’s like hidden in the corner.

Cat!! Cat!!

What a good actor. I’m still bitter that wikipedia has a whole section about the casting for “Isis the cat” that talks entirely about the human who played Isis for 2 minutes and nothing about the talented feline actor. Where did they find her? How did they teach her to act?

She has a lot of thoughts about Kirk.

I wrote down “Scully, you’ve got to see this” in my notes and I’ve already forgotten what it refers to lol. Some moment that I thought would fit well with my favorite x-files meme.

Change history, you say? Spock is intrigued. ...Admittedly, Spock is often intrigued.

“What if it turns out you’re an invading alien from the future?” Honestly...let him invade. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.

I’m pretty insulted by this. The aliens went through all this trouble to help in 1968...where are our alien helpers NOW?

The cat straight up attacked his face.

Kirk is so fond of Spock being fond of the cat.

“It’s a lovely animal. I feel myself strangely drawn to it.”

Kirk is way too confused by Seven--an allegedly human person with super-human abilities that he says come from aliens--and yet, he’s met Charlie X so??? Is this not the same?

Kirk’s got the whole crew checking in on zoom.

(I actually do like this sequence of him getting video calls from different parts of the ship.)

“Weren’t orbiting H-bombs a huge problem in 1968?” Looks at the camera like he’s on The Office. Not the subtlest bit of writing in the “social commentary” genre. I do say this with love, though. I always enjoy when they comment on contemporary problems.

“He has a totally perfect body.” Lol don’t distract these two bisexuals.

[soft meowing]

“The prisoner has escaped.” The way this is shot, it looks like he’s talking about the cat.

Hmm, I do love the decor. Very 60s. This honestly immediately feels like a different show, and a much more dated show; even when the Enterprise time travels, it tends not to time travel to... office space.

Love the little sounds the computer makes.

So is Isis supposed to be one of the fancy aliens? It’s never explained but one must assume she is.

Aw, he’s petting her paw.

So I assumed the cats sounds are real, but just dubbed. They’re not lol. Which I guess isn’t surprising: this cat makes a lot of noises! They were provided by a human voice actress.

Damn.... I want a secret bookshelf that turns around to reveal a super computer with a big screen. “Computer... play Netflix.”

That’s what Seven does in his spare time.

The computer is an AI. “Beta 5 snobbery” lol.

Where are OUR alien overlords to stop US from destroying ourselves before WE can mature into a peaceful society?

This is really masterful exposition lol. Not forced or awkward at all.

ST sure does love the snooty female computer trope.

“Get us the proper costumes.” Yes, get Spock his Requisite Hat.

Omicron IV....that’s one of the names they use in Futurama lol. Such nerds.

Another excellent Spock Hat.

I love Seven’s various IDs. Great style. I wish my driver’s license looked like those.

“Who do you think you are?” He hasn’t decided yet. That’s why he was shifting through his IDs.

Seven is not smart lol. Like, he should have figured out way faster that this lady isn’t one of the Alien Overlords. He asks her the code question, she doesn’t understand it, and he... assumes she’s just really in character? Dude, that’s what the code questions are for!!! To help you identify people! Otherwise you could just straight up ask: are you an alien?

Instead he’s like “oh, you silly alien, you’re playing with me,” and then is forced to trap her, reveal his whole mission, and ultimately ensnare her in his plan.

I want that typewriter. Voice recognition typewriter.

"My incompetence has made you aware of very secret devices." Well at least he knows.

Trained cat!

The alien overlords were killed in a random car accident. That’s ironic.

Oh look, a real rocket!

Brown pants + short sleeved shirt + tie is such a Classic 60s look.

This security guard doesn’t think it’s weird that this random dude has a cat with him? Is this part of Isis’s alien power?

Except for the part where it’s a weapon, it’s pretty cool to see all this build up to, like... launching stuff into space. Exciting.

Isis likes to be on shoulders. Just like Little Guy.

New hat for Spock. His outer wear hat, and now his fancy hat. There is something to be said for this ep, and that is Kirk and Spock in suits.

Amazing how they literally launched rockets with computers that old. Like seeing the big bank of primitive computers is totally wild. We put people on the moon that way! Amazing.

“Meow.” Lol, Isis is stressed so she’s speaking like a cat. That’s a pretty funny joke actually.

Seven is so incompetent. If he’d just let the Enterprise help, Scotty could have fixed that rocket issue in like 3 seconds.

Lol everyone’s just pulling Gary through space. Now on the Enterprise. Now in the office.

Why does this computer have a hug black screen if it only displays images on the small white circle?

"Spock and I in custody. Main characters, doing nothing, knowing nothing, totally useless and irrelevant. I have never felt more helpless." Literally what is even the point of them today? Does Spock even have lines outside of “I like the cat”?

Isis is jealous of Roberta. Is she.. in a relationship with Seven lol?

Uhura is listening to everyone in the world. She probably has a universal translator on, but I do feel like this scene implies she just...understands all the languages.

So now the warhead is armed and heading to somewhere vague... in other words, everyone has collectively made the situation worse.

....Or this was Seven’s plan all along? To scare people into ceasing to be so careful with nuclear weaponry? As someone who knows humans better than this guy, I think this is a dumbass plan.

“That’s why so many people in my generation are kind of crazy and rebels.” Same, sweetheart.

Really this is just a story about bad communication. If Seven had told Kirk his plan upfront, Kirk would have helped him. And if Kirk weren’t so insistent on involving himself in something just because he happens to be somewhere he probably shouldn’t be, we wouldn’t have this issue either. The hubris of everyone.

Overall, just a really forced narrative imo.

Or that’s how it was supposed to be lol. The Irony of time travel. By it’s nature, everything has already worked out.

Kirk and Spock are like “You’re welcome. Peace out.”

Honestly... Isis was the only good part. Such a talented cat actor!! Or trio of cat actors, I guess. Had to do all those stunts and stuff.. .amazing. I also liked the concept of Isis. How she turned into a human later just to troll Roberta. How she’s never really explained--one must assume, an alien? Plus I pretty much never get tired of human + animal teams where the animal makes animal noises and the human just understands and answers in English.

As a stand alone sci fi concept...it was okay. Kinda dated by now. The alien tech was nifty and Roberta could have grown on me. Maybe even Seven, though he left a lot to be desire. That said, the narrative relied a lot on people getting in each other’s way for no reason, which I find very frustrating.

But as a Star Trek episode....no. The main characters were just nuisances on the side lines!! I’m not even sure what Kirk’s mission here was--to try to figure out what Seven was doing? And stop him if necessary? But he never really decided if it was or not, until the point where not trusting him would basically cause a nuclear war? I don’t know, I found it all very frustrating. The melding of the original show and the spinoff was not smooth.

If I were watching this in 1968, I’d feel very cheated. THIS was the season finale? That’s it? I don’t even get a real Star Trek episode and now I have to wait months for anything new?

And what I get after all that waiting is Spock’s Brain?? I’d be tempted to quit. If I had a tumblr in 1969 I’d be writing multi-paragraph rants about how the best show on television has completely nose-dived lol.

But then there’s The Enterprise Incident, which is one of the best episodes... I don’t know, man. It’s a conundrum. I’ve only seen maybe half of season 3 but from what I remember it’s very uneven: some of the best eps (The Enterprise Incident, For the World Is Hollow, Day of the Dove) mixed in with some of the worst (Spock’s Brain, The Paradise Syndrome), plus some that are good concepts but shoddily executed (The Way to Eden). So we’ll see what I think about it when I see it all in one piece, in air date order.

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts #2021: star trek #star trek tos

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

Readers long time crush, Erik Stevens, knocks on her door dressed as a pizza delivery stripper and he doesn’t realize he has the wrong address until it’s too late.

I’m telling y’all now this is funny 🤣🤣 I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing while writing this. Erik is Hoe Erik okurrr.

She popped her ass in her kitchen to the Jersey Club Mix playlist she had on loop all day. It was her off day too. Y/N decided to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies for her gifted cookie jar she received for her birthday. It had the words “Scorpio’s Winning” on it. A particular beat had her twirling her spatula in the air, throwing her ass in a circle with her tongue sticking out.

“Aye!!! This my shit! I miss my Jersey fam.”

Chuckling, Y/N adds the chocolate chunks. She was a traveling Chef who was born and raised in Jersey but moved to Annapolis, MD for her college education. Currently, she was living in Boston with a cozy bakery. She had dreams of opening Bakeries across the east coast.

Dreams her long time crush that she met way back in Annapolis, MD told her to pursue. The thought of him still made her shiver. He was so young at the time, around twenty one. She would always see him in her neighborhood running in the early mornings with his Navy sweatshirt on and matching sweat pants. From there it extended to them hanging out for drinks and getting to know eachother. He would talk about his early life in Oakland, CA, his accent swooning her. Flirtatious, full of life, an ego big enough to make everyone in a room feel small, and lets not for get all around fine as HELL.

She missed him a lot, and honestly, he was one of the reasons why she even moved to Boston. He always talked about becoming an Engineer once he furthered his career in the Navy turned Military man. He was so mature for his age, most of the young niggas chasing after her still acted like they were eighteen. Nah, Erik had an old soul. Women older than him couldn’t believe he was only twenty one.

“Erik Stevens,” she blushed while molding her cookies on a tray lined with parchment paper. Her belly growled, a tiny frown of frustration on her face. She didn’t cook a damn thing and cookies would not be the meal of the night today. There were a few cups of spicy noodles in her cabinet she could hook up a ramen dish with veggies and egg. Once the cookies were in the oven, Y/N washes her hands, heading to take a quick shower. Once there, she stripped out of her t-shirt, the only thing on anyway.

The shower water spilled over her back and hair, her eyes closed and a satisfied sigh escaping her mouth. Tonight’s agenda: eat a bowl of vanilla ice cream with some cookies, sit on the couch with a glass of wine and read her fan fiction favorites. Smut was a number one but she started up with some Angst and now she was even more hooked on that. She could read a nice scary one tonight. Fully clean and skin smooth from the oil she applied in the shower, Y/N leaves the bathroom completely naked, walking out to check her cookies.

They were just about finished, having her entire place smelling like a bakery in the early morning. She rubs her hands together, squealing like the fat girl she was. Y/N’s motto was: love what you have and fuck whatever others thought. She’s tall and thick. 5’10 with a lot of curves to match. A Stallion. Pulling out her good wine glass, Y/N pours a generous glass of white wine, taking a small sip with a soothing hum.

“I’m about to have a good ass night,” she talks to herself. In the middle of shaking her hips within her toasty kitchen, a knock comes to her door. She raises a single brow, smacking her lips from her wine.

“Not tonight, fuck that,” she rolls her eyes, walking out of her kitchen and to her bedroom, the knocks came again but harder. She walked to the door, staring through the peep hole at a man’s back with a pizza box in hand. Scrunching her face with confusion, Y/N talks loud enough for the pizza guy to hear.

“I didn’t order any pizza, sir,” she says politely.

“You sure? Address said apartment 3B.”

His voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Well, apartment 3A didn’t order anything. But since you’re so persistent you can leave the box and I’ll take it for free.” She laughs loudly, causing the man on the other side of the door to laugh. He sounded good and she didn’t even see his face. Y/N was looking through that hole again, trying to catch this man but his back was still turned. Was he hiding?

“Is this some kind of joke?” She spoke with an attitude.

“Why don’t you open the door and see,” he challenged.

“Now why would I be dumb enough to do that?”

“This pizza hot and ready like little Caesar’s open the door, Baby girl.”

Just like a trap, she see’s a box of pizza open and sizzling, two toned and veiny arms with fingers perfectly manicured and thick stretching out while holding open the pizza to her. Her mouth watered.

“Damn, that does look good.” It was a legit box of pizza and he looked official with the uniform and all.

“Mhm, had to hold back from stealing a piece myself,” he started making sounds of satisfaction, drawing her in each time his deep yet raspy voice let out a mmm and a so good.

“Fuck it.” She was ready to open the door, unlocking it but before she could unhook the chain she stopped quickly, forgetting about her nudity.

“You good?” He chuckles.

“You out here about to have me show you my birthday suit!!!” She could hear him get close to the door.

“Birthday suit, huh?” The fact that she could smell him from behind the door...damn. He smelled so fucking good.

“Birthday suits are better then pajamas.”

She blushes, biting her lip.

“Can you give me a second?” She softly closes the door, quickly rushing to her room to retrieve her robe. It was gonna be a grab and go. He was giving it away for free so oh well. Wrapped in silk, Y/N rushes back to the door, finally opening it and coming face to face with-

“Free Pizza.” He held his arms out wide, dazzling smile on his face. The smile she remembers. The same pouty lips, unruly eyebrows, long lashes, dark eyes, and deep dimples. Her stupefied expression made him blink twice rapidly, the same look shaping his face as well.

“Y/N?!!!!” He finally spoke.

It was Erik Stevens in the flesh.

“What the fuck?” She whispers.

Erik Stevens is a damn pizza delivery guy?!!! After all these years this nigga was selling pizzas? She expected him to be a Doctor in Engineering living in a bomb ass condo with a bad bitch that he fucked every day. A bad bitch she wished she was.

“What. The. Absolute. FUCK.” She spoke again but louder. The music blasting a floor above her couldn’t match how loud she just yelled. Erik almost drops the pizza box. He catches it in time with swift reflexes.

“Nice to see you too, Y/N,” he looks her over, nodding his head with a slight smirk, “You look the fuck good girl. Almost had me dropping this box of pizza. Had a nigga trumped.”

“Ha,” she was light headed. Erik Stevens the damn Pizza guy. She was so shocked. This was a real awkward moment.

“Erik,” she starts before shaking her head. She couldn’t even put into words what she wanted to say to him in that moment.

“Something burning?” He sniffs the air.

“MY COOKIES!!!!!” She rushes into her apartment, leaving the door open while Erik slips inside. He was just as confused and shocked as she was. Box still in hand, Erik walks through her living room, taking in anything he could about the Y/N he missed out on. Still the same after all these years. Back in her presence, Erik watches with humor as she curses about her burnt cookies.

“I CANT BELIEVE-“ she stops mid rant, looking over her shoulder at Erik.

“You left your door opened,” he points to the door. Y/N just stood there looking at him while the burnt tray of cookies and an oven mit were in her other hand.

“Y/N, stop staring at me like that.” Erik shakes his head away from her, tossing the pizza box on the counter, “You got pizza now so why not eat that instead?” His voice has a teasing edge to it.

“Are you aware that I am so speechless right now!” She placed the tray of cookies on the stove, “I mean...ERIK!!!!!”

He laughs, removing his uniform hat to reveal short dreads. She damn near fainted.

“I’m aware, I ain’t expect to come here and see you looking the way you do. Just as fine, just ass...thick.”

He really says that after all these years. He could have said that to her years ago back in Annapolis, MD.

“Oh my God,” Y/N dramatically clutches her chest, “Aint no way this is happening to me tonight.”

“Oh yeah, it’s happening,” Erik bit his lip at her, “you look...”

They both laugh. Damn, what a reunion.

“Can I get you anything? She started opening cabinets, talking so fast she barely breathed.

“Coffee? Water? Juice? Some wine? Something stronger? Oh shit! My bad I forgot you’re working- speaking of work I never saw you as the pizza delivery guy type, I mean, not tryna down play you or anything you just seemed like you had bigger plans, much bigger plans-“

She turns, eyes almost leaving her sockets, standing before her in a male thong with a black bow tie around his neck and a body that would knock you on your back, was Erik Stevens the pizza delivery guy turned stripper.

“WHAT THE HELL?!!!” She yells out. This man was oiled down and everything. He steps around the kitchen island, eyes low and dangerous, lips turned up into a sly smirk, body on POINT.

“You serious?” She laughs nervously. What was this? She had to be fucking dreaming. Right off the back he just strips down, ready to seduce her. This man was wild.

“Somebody come wake my ass up!!!” She yells while pinching her forearm.

“Ain’t no dream here, babygirl, you look like you hungry for something else and I got that shit for you.”

Trapped, Y/N was in between the counter and a whole man. She could feel his dick on her thigh. This was quick. He was about business with this male stripper mess.

“LAWD!” She yells, looking anywhere but at him.

So, this man is a male stripper?! She kept thinking on a loop.

“Don’t act like that now you know you want this Y/N. You’ve been wanting this for a while.”

“You knew about that?!!!” She couldn’t believe this man was in a damn thong. What in the hell.

“Erik you gotta cut me some slack this is not how I planned our reunion would be like!”

His hands were on her waist now, lips close to her ear.

“Let’s make it a good reunion then, let a nigga put his nuts in your face.” He laughs and you gasp in pure shock.

“Did you-“ you blink at him like he was an extra terrestrial.

Out of no where he starts grinding on you, no music playing just his hips moving. What kind of stripper shit is this?

“No music?!” You laugh out loud.

“Play something then, Y/N,” he steps away while she walks backward to her phone on the kitchen counter. He wanted to do this, okay. She could play along and have a little fun. Laugh about it with his ass later. Y/N thought to pull up her ass shaking playlist but she didn’t see Erik as the type of stripper to put on a show to twerk hip hop. Finally, Y/N pulls up her slow jam playlist, settling for some Ginuwine. So Anxious starts playing, a big ass smile on Y/N’s face. She was trying her hardest not to be goofy about this shit but clearly, Erik didn’t care that he was at the wrong house. He had to have known this wasn’t the place for him to be.

“Well,” she sits on her couch, “Give me a show then, Stevens.”

Erik walks towards her, eyes low and body making her bite her lip. Erik stands before her, his dick in her face and Y/N’s eyes zeroing in on the big target. The minute he started grinding in her face, muscles moving in conjunction with his seductive hip rolling, she was ready to pull out her money.

“Shit, I forgot my money.”

She felt like she was back at her sisters bachelorette party all over again. The stripper there had her in a damn fantasy world. She gave him all her damn money.

“Don’t worry about all that, Y/N. Think of it as a little gift from your long time crush.” His dazzling smile made her blush from her cheeks down to her neck.

“Well can I at least touch you?”

Erik props his leg up on the couch, dick almost smacking her in her face with his excessive grinding and moaning. Jesus.

“Girl if you don’t enjoy your damn self.” He laughs when Y/N reaches out to drag her shaking fingers down his abs.

“JESUS.” She says through clenched teeth.

A loud thud from above her followed up by cheering and laughter caught her attention. Y/N put two and two together, a small smile creeping up her face.

“Looks like your supposed to be in 4B not 3B.”

Erik raises a single brow, “At least you’re keeping me with a hard dick until I get up there.” His hands were on the back of the couch now, his chest and abs in Y/N’s face while her hands rubbed his ass all the way around to his thighs. The song switched out to Pretty Ricky- Grind with me.

Out of no where, Erik picks Y/N up from the couch, seating himself and placing her in his lap. Erik lifted his hips from the couch, rolling them up into her naked crotch, causing her to bounce. This was torture. This was going to end up being a fuck session not a strip session.

“Okay, Erik, I think I’ve had my fun,” she was flushed and horny.

“Nah, lets keep going, baby girl.” His eyes with those lashes...she couldn’t look at him anymore.

“What made you become a stripper-WHAT!”

Erik lifts her legs to his shoulders, grinding into her like he was fucking her. She knew at this point her entire pussy was out for him to see.

“Stop asking questions,” he grabs her ass, squeezing it firmly while his hard dick rolled from her ass to her pussy.

“Erik this is fucking wild!!!” Y/N would have a laugh and maybe a cum or two later from this moment. Who was answering her prayers? Who out there besides Erik knew of the big crush she had on this gorgeous man. Erik didn’t even know she lived in Boston. This was some fate type of shit. His lips on her neck brought her back to reality.

“Don’t kiss on my neck like that unless you plan on fucking me!!!!” Y/N had no filter at this point. Erik was like a celebrity crush. Imagine being brought on stage by your favorite male artist and he’s grinding on you and making you feel special, THATS what this felt like.

“You wanna fuck?” He looked at her genuinely serious.

“Uh-“ he cuts her off.

“I mean, for you I can make that happen.”

Now she was wondering if he was a male escort. This man here...

“Erik...I’m telling you now...I know my pussy is all out there and it’s whatever but can you PLEASE STOP TEASING ME!!!”

Y/N lifts from Erik’s lap, pausing her music. Erik throws his head back, a booming laughter escaping his mouth while his muscles bounced in tune with his fit of chuckling. Y/N had to bite the inside of her cheek to calm her laugh.

“Aight cut that shit out I wanna be serious for a second.”

Before she could speak, Erik’s phone goes off. Groaning, he lifts from the couch, tucking one of his nuts back in place in that damn thong. Y/N had to put a fist to her mouth to control herself.

That thang is hanging! She thought salaciously.

“Yeah, this Daddy Kill, babygirl.” He smiles into the phone, gold slugs gleaming, “apartment 4B?”

He looks over at Y/N, both of them silently laughing. Erik clutched his ribs from the pain of laughter.

“Sorry for the late timing, sweetheart, I’ll be there real soon. Nah, keep the drinks going and make sure y’all ready and horny cuz ima put on a real good show,” Erik laughs with a bite of his lip, “Y’all some freaky bitches, aight bye.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open from hearing a Erik reader to those women as bitches. Without a flicker of care, Erik hangs up.

“So wassup, Y/N?” Erik walks further into her kitchen, “you said you got some strong shit, how about Hennessy? I need some extra energy for the 15 women upstairs.”

Y/N makes his drink while a thong wearing Erik stands before her, glistening and chiseled.

“Here you go,” she hands him his drink, “now tell me what made you become a damn stripper? And what else do you do? Cus you talking about sex is extra.”

Erik smiles with a shake of his head, “I am indeed a male entertainer, still working on my Engineering doctorate but after doing some experimenting online with live cam and all that I got a lot of hits. So now I do my own thing on the side. I strip, do live cam, have regular submissives.”

“You must make a lot of damn money to do this shit,” Y/N makes a drink for herself.

“I do, it’s a business on the side, Y/N,” Erik was overly humored, “You knocking the way I make my money, ma?”

“No!! No I just... I would have never expected this,” she shakes her head, “Are you in a relationship?”

Erik kisses his teeth, “Nah, single and I wanna keep it that way for a while.”

“Damn, I’m tryna shoot my shot and you just blocking me,” Y/N laughed, half way joking and half way serious. If they were together he wouldn’t be doing this anymore for other women, just her.

“You ain’t shoot your shot before what’s so different now? Is it cus my dick in your face?”

“No, it’s cuz I thought I would never see you again.”

Erik walks over to her, picking her up and sitting her on the kitchen counter. He plays her music again, grabbing her arms to place around his neck, moving her from side to side. She pouted, giving in to his antics.

“You make me sick,” she looks him in the eye, “you should probably go-AHHH!”

Erik picks Y/N up, bouncing her on his still hard dick. She was dripping on this man, he played entirely too much.

“Alright cut it out!!” She swatted at him, Erik putting her down with a smile.”

“Y/N, I missed you,” he chuckles, “You right, let me get up out of here.”

Erik walks away, picking up his fake pizza uniform, putting it on. Y/N runs her hands over her hair and adjusts her robe, heart still fluttering and legs wobbly. She walks over to the pizza, hovering her hand over it and noticing it was cold.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s just a gimmick.”

“Too bad. You sure you don’t want any money for your excellent services?” Y/N joked.

“Ha, I told you I’m good girl.”

Fully dressed, Erik finished off his Henny, grabbing his hat to put on and the box of pizza from the counter. Erik walked over to Y/N, grabbing her chin and placing a soft and lingering kiss on her cheek.

“You gonna miss me, Y/N? I promise to come back and see you since you’re in Boston now. We got a lot of catching up to do girl.”

Her heart skipped about two beats.

“You better.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Sorry I gotta leave you like this, but I can’t miss out on my money.”

Fuck them bitches upstairs, she seethed to herself.

“It’s cool, you’re just gonna make it up to me when I see you next time.”

Erik pulls out his phone, “give me your number.” He was telling more so than asking. Y/N gives him her digits, Erik storing it in his phone and saving it.

Y/N walks Erik to the door, the further they went the more she dreaded it. Opening the door, Erik walks out, turning to give her a tight hug and that same lingering kiss but to her forehead this time. He was really driving her crazy. Erik wasn’t going to make this crush thing easy. A fun night turned into a boring one.

“Bye, stupid,” she shoved him.

“Bye, girl.” Erik walks away and up the steps, turning to look over his shoulder from time to time with a smile on his face.

“Pick that lip up,” he teases.

“They don’t deserve your body!!!” Y/N yells after him.

“YOU SO STINGY!!” He yells back, Y/N closing her door behind her with a huge grin on her face.

It only took a few seconds before she heard the door opening, Erik giving the ladies his intro.

“Pizza delivery for 4B, right?”

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fridays--child · 4 years

Text

A Lesson in Vulnerability

Was going for smut, ended up with the feels. Please enjoy(?) another rough, unedited post, including baby's first lemon in a decade.

Prompt “Of course deacon has a lot of disguises. One for each personality.”

Rating: 18+

“I’ve never met someone who has so many clothes. Except, you know, me.”

Galatea huffed a laugh. “What, you’re not the only one that has a different disguise for each personality?”

Meeting her eyes through their reflections distorted by the cracked full length mirror, Deacon placed his hand over his heart.

“You wound me. But seriously, did you swipe a whole Fallon’s store?”

Rolling her eyes at him, Galatea responded, “Is that where you got yours from?”

Deacon had never met a person who could transform herself quite like Galatea, who could change her whole being to attract or deflect attention as needed. With her hair up and under a hat, shoulders slumped in a man’s shirt and slacks, she was utterly unremarkable. Just another grimy wastelander, trying to eke a living before the rads, raiders, or bigots dug you an early grave. With a little lipstick and dark curls around her face, she was a bombshell come to life, a pre-war Aphrodite in a wiggle dress and heels. A magnet with a dimmer switch, pushing and pulling those in her wake. A human chameleon, no face change needed.

If he could choose a favourite (and he knew he had no right to), he’d probably say this incarnation was his. In her tiny green Goodneighbor apartment, with her shoes and jeans kicked off, analysing every item in her wardrobe before lovingly folding them, packing the chosen items into their shared duffle bag. She had kicked her shoes and jeans off as soon as she walked in the door, her makeup nearly worn off from the days travel back north. Even after a two week sabbatical, the closest thing to R&R he could offer, she still cackled with a nervous energy, a soft but increasing hum indistinguishable to those who didn’t know her.

It felt almost domestic, a wink of his long-forgotten earlier life. A false intimacy between two liars and secret keepers, ignoring the gulf that still existed between them despite the stings and firefights and sex.

But if he was about to put both of them in just stupid amounts of danger, he would take it greedily.

Galatea scrunched her nose at an old fisherman’s sweater, throwing into the bag before picking up a modest evening dress. She whistled at Deacon to pause shaving the two week’s growth from his face, holding it up to his mirrored eyeline.

“Do you think Mags would like this? Or is it not,” Galatea mimed a triangle from her collarbones to sternum, “enough?”

“Probably a little conservative for her.”

“All good, I’ll send it to Piper then. Unless,” she smirked, “you were planning to gender bend again next time you face swap?”

He snickered at her, bringing the straight razor back to his jaw. “‘Fraid I don’t have the decolletage for that doll, I’d never do it justice. Why, would you like that?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It wouldn’t be my first rodeo with a woman.”

Temporarily stunned, Deacon gulped as the blood left his head and headed south, earning a dirty barked laugh from Galatea.

“Oh, now you’ve nicked yourself, you degenerate. Mind out of the gutter.”

She threw him a face cloth from across the room, before dragging one of the two dining chairs across the room to the small basin and mirror before straddling it backwards. Pushing her two long braids towards her back, she looked up at the older man expectedly.

“Go on then.”

“Beg pardon?” She kept staring. “If you’re after a steam and shave, you might be knocking on the door. I gotta tell ya, if that’s your stubble, you’ve gotta teach me how to get such a close shave.”

For the first time in the months they worked together, Galatea’s voice wobbled.

“Cut my hair please.”

Deacon frowned down at her. “Are you sure?” When she nodded, he added, “why are you so nervous? I’ve seen you destroy coursers and super mutants practically laughing.”

Huffing slightly, she undid the buttons of her shirt. For a minute, he was momentarily lost for words. He had always been aware of the mottled skin that ran from the edge of the left-hand edge of her jaw down. Had wondered once or twice if the reason she always wore a high neck or scarf was to hide it, perhaps selfishly wondering if it made her too recognisable to go undercover with him. Each button she undid revealed a greater expanse of burnt flesh, melting into the soft cognac of her untouched skin and disappearing underneath the worn bra she wore. Galatea’s eyes flicked down to it.

“Well, there’s no use hiding it now, and it’s not like I’ll have time to do this mop.”

Deacon nodded, gulping. “Where, ah.. How long do you want it?”

“Whatever, so long as I can still tie it back.”

Flicking open the mounted first aid kit, he grabbed out the rusted scissors, before carefully lining up the two plaits and snipping them in line with her scarred chin. Galatea’s eyes dropped to her lap, murmuring.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to infiltrate the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Deacon scoffed, fervently lining up the dark layers of her locks to make sure they’re even.

“I can’t believe Des thought we were the ones to do it.”

“Mmm. I mean, are you even able to still pass the fitness test, old man?”

Deacon pulled a face in the mirror, moving around to tame the waves around her face. “Careful with the guy whose cutting your hair, sweetheart.” Galatea gently slapped his arm in response.

“I swear to God, if you give me a hack job and I need to get a buzz cut, I will utter your recall code.”

A slightly awkward, but common silence fell between them. Deacon cleared his throat, pushing the edges of her shirt down her shoulders so he could blow off the stray hairs around her neck.

“I, uh, was wondering what you had hiding under there. Got to admit, slightly disappointed it wasn’t the Death Bunnies chest piece I was imagining.”

Galatea choked a hint of a laugh, betrayed by the wobble of her voice, pretty mouth hiding behind her fist.

“Trust me, even this,” she motioned to her chest, “would be preferable to tattoo Deak.”

Resting his hands on her neck, he gave her hair a final appraisal, catching the tremble as she swallowed. Meeting her glassy eyes in the mirror, he lifted her head up to meet his.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re offended about the Death Bunnies tattoo. I told ya, I’m happy to be matchies if you are.”

She didn’t answer, shaking her head.

“Is it about this?”

“It’s stupid,” she muttered, shaking her head once more. “I should be used to it by now, but it still bothers me. It’s a reminder that this is real, and that I can’t go back.”

Staring into his glasses, she added, “Do you ever cling to the old parts of yourself, Deak?”

Galatea had a habit of getting of close, of nearly drawing the parts of him he kept buried deep to the surface. A pandora’s box of ugly truths that would mark him as a sinner even to the faithless. He could offer no words of comfort without incinerating them both.

So when she leaned into the fire, he responded with igniting the only common ground they both held.

Sliding one hand to trace her jaw, the other hand’s finger tips traced the edges where her smooth skin turned rough. These fingers were replaced with his lips, chaste at first before her breath hitched. He mouthed at her neck, wishing his tongue and teeth could heal the residual sting. She rolled her neck at his touch, lips catching the hand on her jaw and sucking the fingers there.

Deacon knelt in front of her, continuing his ministrations down her breasts and abs, roughly pulling at her shirt and bra to continue his pilgrimage along the mottled cognac. Galatea melted in the chair, sliding forward as he lifted her hips to pull off the unneeded garments, along with her faded, once pretty underwear. He ran a thumb down along her heat, and the egotist inside him cheered at the wet dripping from her lips.

“Spread your legs for me,” he growled, nipping at the strong thighs. “I want you to watch yourself.”

It was an undeserved gift to watch this woman above him, undulating and moaning as he mouthed her cunt. Something only fitting for a man with a less blasphemous tongue than his. But they both worshipped at the altar of liars and cheats, and if there was one good deed within his power that could push him towards redemption, this would be it. To grant Galatea a taste of heaven, despite the purgatory she had wandered for years.

Jesus, he was getting sentimental in his old age.

Deacon fucked his tongue into her, lapping hungrily at the soft pink folds. She seldom came when he was inside her (something she assured him occurred with all previous partners), but her thighs shook around his shoulders, and damn it if he wasn’t going to try. He slipped one thick finger in, then a second, searching and crooking as he doubled his attention on her clit.

Galatea swore incoherently, a rambling rant of “ Deacon, fuck, Deacon!” as she gripped the arms of the chair. A broken sob ripped through her chest, and she slumped against him, roughly pushing him away while her breathing laboured. He could feel wet salty tears against his neck, and he held her face in his hands.

“Hey hey hey, shh. Galatea, it’s okay, okay? It’s okay.” He kissed her gently. “Was it too much?”

She nodded slowly, consciously trying to control her breathing.

“Just got a bit overstimulated. Give me a sec?” He nodded. He had been a tender man once, attentive, and he allowed the ghost of that man kiss her softly, letting her taste herself. She licked herself off his mouth, reaching towards his glasses as they bumped against the bridge of her nose.

“Take them off for me, Deak.”

A secret for a secret, a fair trade. He hesitated for a second, then let her remove them, her dark eyes analysing his face with the same intensity she held whenever she faced a new problem. It was a bit like staring into the sun. He wished it would burn him until there was nothing left but ash.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Pretty. I wouldn’t have guessed your eyes were blue.”

He groaned, silencing her compliment with a kiss before resting his forehead on hers.

“You were so fucking close.”

“I know.”

“You taste so fucking good. Tell me what you want. Anything.”

She kissed him again, hungrily, small hands gripping this throat. They could count on one hand the times he had kissed her before this, even if he had lost count of the times they had slept together before this. He moaned into her mouth, resulting in a breathless chuckle.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Deacon lifted her up roughly, carrying her to the bed. He was an older man, sore, with a crink in his back and knees that throbbed every time it rained. And yet, he bargained, he would take this small act of self-flagellation for the sweet prize it held. A little death, and, more importantly, his best agent at her best.

She giggled at his involuntary grunt of pain, and shooed the small calico kitten off of her bed Deacon stumbled towards. Pushing him back towards the pillows at the head, she straddled him. He felt thick, hot and throbbing beneath her, and distracted hands pulled off his jeans whilst he ripped his holey white t-shirt off. Licking her palm, she pumped him slowly, before lowering herself onto his cock and hissing at that sting. Even if she was no longer 210 years untouched, she still savoured the stretch, the feeling of him filling her. Deacon growled, gripping her hips and fighting the urge to fuck up into her. Grabbing her wrists in one hand, he moved them from where they covered her chest to grip the metal bed frame.

“No more hiding.” He used the other to roll her hips against his, steadying the jerky rhythm she was finding and meeting her thrust for thrust.

Galatea picked up her pace, rising and sinking, punctuating each snap of her hips with a breathy moan. Deacon busied his mouth on her chest, sucking and nipping at her full chest, tracing the small inked shapes and initials that littered over her ribs and arms. Galatea rode him wildly, intimately, containing none of the usual composure she usually held, even in their most perverse moments. He mouthed the S.A.M, italicised in black on her wrist, desperately trying to ignore the lick of fire in his filling his belly, racing Galatea to their release. She huffed desperately, ungracefully, as his fingers traced haphazard shapes around the bud between her thighs.

“Deaks, Deacon , I’m so close. So close.”

“I know baby, fuck. What do you need.”

She sobbed. “My name, please. Say it. My real one.”

Her cunt contracted around his cock, impossibly tight and deliciously hot, and he fucked up desperately into her, crushing her bodily to his chest. He could feel that familiar pull, stretching and teetering on the edge, and he sunk his teeth into her neck, bruising the unharmed side of her through

“Jesus, Gene. Imogene . I’m gonna, shit, I’m going to come!”

Galatea unravelled around him, sobbing, splendid and terrible in her climax. Deacon pushed her off him, letting her fall against the mattress and pumping himself as he spilled over his stomach and her thighs. He fell back against the mattress, breathing heavily, as his partner’s slowly steadied. Pushing the hair off from her face, he met her eyes, before wrapping a lazy arm low along her back. His muscles burned, and he longed to sleep. When was the last time he slept in a bed?

“You okay?”

Galatea nodded. “Yes.”

“Mmm.”

A beat of silence, then. “Deacon?”

“Mhmm?”

“Thanks.”

“S’all good.” He yawned, stretching his spare arm above his head. “Thanks for letting me see you naked.”

Gene slapped his aching abs. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

#gene grady #prompt #Fallout 4 #deacon x sole survivor #deacon #nsft #FO4 #sole survivor #female sole survivor

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legolaslovely · 4 years

Note

Hi! OMG! Happy Birthday Friend! 🍕🎂 !!! I didn't know - hope you had a good one - it sounds AWESOME! And on Kili KTuesday too! Yay! AND THE HOBBIT WAS ON!!! WHAT!? HOW DID I MISS THIS?! *poutyface* I LOVE THE HOBBIT!!! And now I must spam you - sorry in advance - I just have FEELS, y'know? Alright. *deep breath* DAAAAIN! OMG,DAIN IRONFOOT! Lord of The Iron Hills! Thorin's more reasonable Cousin! Cousin Dain! I LOVE HIM! ALL THE DAIN LOVE! Oh, when him and Thorin and Dwalin get together -

Hello friend! I am going to put your messages here under the cut! I wish asks didn’t have a word limit! But I’m happy to hear from you!

#2 - look out! And you thought Fili and Kili were bad!!! I know in alot of fics Dain is portrayed as the Baddie, and i get it - you gotta use SOMEBODY, and he's there and convenient and available, but it just hurts. I mean, c'mon, it's Cousin DAIN! All he wants is for Thorin to have a good life! And that's my rant about Dain. Now then. On to ANOTHER favourite slighted person. And you know who I mean. FILLLLLIIIIII !!! OH MY BOY, MY GOLDEN SINCERE EARNEST UNOBTRUSIVE STEADY CAPABLE BOY!!! WHY?!?!

#3 - WHYWHYWHY?!?! Yes the films did him dirty, buuuuut, they DID end up giving us such a gorgeous portrayer of him ( and no I'm not talking about the first Fake Fili - sorry, no offense, Rob, but just, no ). So there's that. But you are ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. WHY NOT MORE OF FILI ? I mean, he is so important! He's the M*F*ing Heir to Thorin Oakenshield, for Mahal's sake! I really think HE should've been the one to give that 'it's not in my blood' speech, I'll got to say the piece about the Laketown

#4 ( i think? ) - People having nothing. And I ADORE Kili, Small Sweet BB that he is, and I LOVE every minute of him that I saw and I am so grateful for all his screening, and yet ... i am sad for the lack of Fili. The unfairness of it. It doesn't sit well with me. Why couldn't they have divided the storylines between them? I mean, Kili got to confront Trolls, and have a scene in the Mirkwood cells, and then get shot with an arrow helping their escape, and then almost DYING from the wound,

#5 - and don't even TELL me about the alternate version where he has a big fight / death scene ( Orc propaganda - we all know Thorin, Fili, and Kili survive and live HEA ) Like, WHY couldn't they have shared some of that with Fili??? And to top it off, the one time Fili is Front and Center, in that same alternate version where they show Fili dying ( blatantly false, he is alive and well and kickin' butt and takin' names in Erebor ) it is the CRAPPIEST scene. But I do have to say, when they

#6 - show him alone, after he sent Kili off to search the lower levels, and he hears the drums and KNOWS he's trapped, with no escape, no way out, with no one to help him, oh God - THE LOOK ON HIS FACE - I could cry ( okay, I do ). I would rather they had used the scene you talk about, where he vows to get revenge on the Moria Scum, for killing his Little Brother. THAT is some mighty fine acting right there, is all I'm sayin'. Whew! *wipes perspiration off forehead* I THINK that's all for now!

#7 - is it 7? We'll call it 7 - I'm sorry for spamming you with all this, but I just couldn't help myself. I had to agree Very Strongly with you. And yes, give me more of the Boys!!! And hope your Birthday was Happy! And I love it when you're drunk! And I am not and I STILL ramble like a fool and can't type right! Anyhow, thank you for coming to my Ted talk and goodnight!

***

Thank you for the birthday wishes! I don’t even know what channel The Hobbit was on but I just turned on the TV and there it was! Fate! The channels apparently celebrate Kili Ktuesday as well! And who wouldn’t celebrate him? He’s a good babe.

I LOVE your idea that Dwalin, Thorin and Dain are troublemakers together! They’d give Fili and Kili a run for their money! Hilarious! Hmm... where would Dis fall... I think she’d join in and help terrorize her sons! Get them back for all their tricks and fall back into old times with her brother, cousin, and friend. Very sweet!

Even I have written Dain as the Baddie before! He’s an easy go to, but really, when you think about the books, he deserves so much praise. It’s an interesting change that they completely altered Thorin’s storyline with the orcs... I don’t know how I feel about it, honestly.

Yes. Fili is so ignored. I get mad about it all the time- we all do! But that’s what fanfiction is for! I think the “not in my blood” speech suits Kili. It’s SO clear that he’s very passionate and I think even that his temper is a little wild. I’m glad he got all the screen time he did. BUT. We could have had much more of Thorin and his heir. Thorin teaching Fili and discussing their travel routes and any problems- things that would have REALLY happened because you can’t convince me that Thorin would have been THAT despotic in the beginning of the journey. God forbid we get those little snippets of domestic gold! In my opinion, we should have had more Fili rather than the time with Radaghast and Galadriel and the orcs. I understand that it’s meant to tie into LOTR, but we know that. Yes, it’s a geek out moment, but good writers shouldn’t sacrifice characters for plots the fans already know. This is just my opinion. I will forever be salty for Fili, but at least we got the wonderful, soft, warm-hearted Deano to give our Fili the effort and love he did.

Thank god you guys deal with my drunken ramblings haha! Thanks for the support and your well wishes, and for dropping in and sharing your wonderful thoughts! Agreed!

#ask #answered #anon #anonymous

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devnicolee · 5 years

Text

Snowfall (8)

A/N: So I was convinced I wasn’t going to get this chapter done anytime soon and I had a stroke of inspiration in an airport heading home from a work trip and wrote like all of it on my two flights haha. I don’t know how or why these chapters keep getting longer LOL someone needs to stop me. This starts off about 2 weeks after Chapter 7 ends, so about 3 weeks after the kidnapping and there is a small time jump within the chapter. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Word Count: 12,583

"I do not know why my mother insists on throwing baba a huge party each year. He hates it, complains of its extravagance every time. But mama doesn’t listen. I wish I had taken a page out of N’Danna’s book and left early. I wonder what his ‘emergency’ was. Did he tell you?" Zarah asked as she placed her shoes by the door and let her hair out of its delicate bun. Her eyes bore into the broad back of her husband, as if the intensity of her gaze would compel him to answer her. But he continued to ignore her question, engrossed in a file he had brought from his office before the party. His nose was buried in it before they left and he wasted no time picking it back up when they returned. She supposed she should have been used to it. She received the cold shoulder from her stoic husband throughout their first public outing since the kidnapping. He could barely be bothered to talk her or engage with other guests, forcing Zarah to endure all the pleasantries alone. When he wasn’t engaging in hushed conversations on the phone on the Lodge balcony, he was constantly reading messages from his beads.

"Eh no, he… he did not," he answered slowly, failing to rip his eyes from the papers in front of him.

"He didn’t tell Adisa either. Probably just tired… like baba. He managed to escape early as well. Lucky them," she mumbled. "And I don’t know why mama insisted we host the party here. I mean she knows we are preparing for the council meeting next week, the staff is swamped. But no one says no to her," she continued her rantings while watching him, examining how his eyes stared into the page with an intensity she hadn't seen in a while, his face pulled into a serious scowl.

"M’Baku… you've been engrossed in work all night. Are you going to share with me what has you so distracted?" She asked, her frustration coloring her words.

"I am sorry Zarah. I am just reading through these notes from the Dwellers’ interrogations." It was an omission that had the truth loosely wrapped up in it, enough of the truth to satiate her appetite for information. He poured over those transcripts and notes from their interrogations every other day it seemed, determined to find a clue they missed before.

She sat down next to him. "Would you let me read them? Or tell me what they say?" Her question dripping with equal parts trepidation and eagerness. Zarah only let her mind drift back to her short "time away" every so often. Avoidance was the only coping mechanism that seemed to work, that helped her hold together the loosening threads of her sanity and push forward. When she did call back to the moments she could remember, she fell down a dark hole in an effort to understand the motives of a lunatic. She would fixate on the "why" of it all, certain that she knew the reason but the memory was free floating in the clutter of her mind and couldn’t tether itself to anything. She knew he wanted to overthrow the tribe but there were other ways to do that than torturing her. She thought if she could understand, it would help her reach solid ground again.

But each spiral gave her no answers and smeared salt into her fresh psychological wounds, wounds that were still open and weeping through the gauze she put on them. Everyone told her to take time to heal emotionally and physically before returning to work. But she didn’t, determined to prove that she was the same chieftess today as she was before Davu sent his foot soldiers to set her life ablaze. She did not need time. Time would only force her to confront or wallow in her real trauma. She knew if she fell apart, it would take time to put herself back together. And she already learned the hard way that her husband had little patience for that. The only things she had space for were actions that propelled her forward so she took on her regular duties and then some to prove she was herself again to her staff, the tribe, and her husband.

"Just the rantings of madmen Zarah, nothing to concern yourself with while you are still healing," he answered, still failing to look her in the eyes. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, trying to get his attention as she spoke.

"M’Baku… I am fine! I feel great actually. The bruises are fading, my ribs are healing well. My concussion is pretty much healed. I know you think we need to hold off on their trials until I am stronger. But I am telling you I can handle it."

M’Baku was not fooled by his wife’s constant working and painted smile, that was never as wide or bright as she thought it was. Her wounds were deep and three weeks were a mere fraction of the time she actually needed to be "just fine." Her inability to properly confront her trauma did provide him a bit of cover, a blanket to hide the quiet dishonesty in his actions. The public-facing rationale behind his delay of trials settled well among the council and made him look like the doting husband, completely dedicated to the wellbeing of his wife. But the reality was less charming. It was difficult to make a case against all these men without the one who orchestrated it all. He was needed to tie it all together.

"Jahari told me you had a panic attack yesterday. It is not time to reopen barely closed wounds. They can sit in prison until you are stronger." He patted her on the knee before closing the file and sitting it on the couch’s side table.

Zarah frowned. Jahari may serve her but, like many of the guards, they would undermine her authority every time to remain in M’Baku’s favor. She couldn’t wait until Kasim and Mosi were back on duty, two men she knew didn’t alert her husband to her every move.

It was a minor setback, a small panic attack after one of her engineers accidentally startled her when she thought she was alone working late in the lab. It took him and Jahari over 20 minutes to calm her down. She asked both men for their silence but that was a foolish request. There was no such thing as silence in Jabariland, usually quiet lives in the mountains meant gossip was the primary form of currency to trade. The panic attacks were one of the few displays of her trauma that poked through the thick curtains she used to cover the others. They were unpredictable, jarring and paralyzing.

Before she could counter his point, his attention was once again captivated by an unknown messenger on his beads. "I have to go, There is an issue that needs my attention. I will be back later."

Zarah looked at the clock, her frown deepening as she realized it was almost midnight. "What issue?" she asked, a sigh filled with her exasperation and disappointment escaping her. Tonight was supposed to be their night to reignite the intimacy in their relationship, an opportunity to call back to a moment reminiscent of the days before the devastation. Just the two of them enjoying a night out as they used to, completely caught in the rapture of each other. She even took the time to put on lingerie, desperate to satiate the primal need that had been growing for the last three weeks. He was depriving her of him and self-love only got her to the cusp of true fulfillment. Physical intimacy was the cornerstone of their relationship, how she knew M’Baku showed and poured his love into her, and she was undeniably empty.

That was her dream, her fantasy for the evening. But M’Baku jabbed a spear into the balloon that blew up inside her at the prospect of spending much-needed quality time with him, just as disinterested in her today as he was yesterday.

"Nothing to worry about. I will be late so don’t wait up." He kissed her on the cheek before leaving.

Zarah sat on the couch for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. She felt like she was wandering aimlessly, blindfolded, trying to make her way back to her husband. She always felt she had a magnetic pull to him, this other-worldly being that illuminated the path to maintaining his love and favor. But that connection was severed, the path darkened and now she was making misstep after misstep, as he traveled farther and farther away from her.

Zarah did wait up. She tossed and turned restlessly, trying to rest alone. She did that more often than she would have liked. Her eyes kept falling on the drawer of her bedside table that held her sleeping pills. Most nights she didn’t sleep, she just lied awake staring out their window. Or when she was alone and tired of laying there, she would go down and work in the labs. Only when her body demanded rest, could no longer maintain itself without it, did she even attempt to catch the elusive beast. On those nights, she would lie to herself and say she no longer needed them. And then she would remember the nightmares from her first week home: vivid, terrifying and the reason a certain someone was conveniently too busy to come to bed with her anymore. And she would take one anyway. Those pills were the only guard of any use to her, protecting her and keeping her trauma at bay so she could achieve meaningful rest. They were slowly becoming an addiction, sleep felt impossible without them. But she was not going to turn away the one thing that worked, the thing that brought her meaningful rest. She knew it would be easier with him there. She didn’t want some drugs to help her rest… she wanted him. She missed him.

He said he was working. You shouldn’t bother him, that is the whole point of his distance. He doesn’t want to be bothered by you, her inner self chastised her. But she couldn’t deny that her heart and body ached for him, feeling the loss of his presence like the loss of a limb. Even something as simple and necessary as sleep was easier before all this. She longed for the simplicity of draping her body over his tone chest, his thick arms tightening around her to keep her flush to his body, rubbing aimless patterns into his bicep as they talked about everything under the sun. Those quiet moments acted as the thread that weaved together the fibers of their relationship. The moments that were now void in their relationship, making her feel as though it was all unraveling before her eyes.

She balled her hands into fists and punched down into the bed, expelling some of her frustrations. She swung her legs out of bed and pulled on her robe. It is past 3 am. M’Baku should be home by now.

She opened the door to find Jahari and another young guard waiting outside. "My lady."

"I was just going to walk to Lord M’Baku’s office," she informed as she headed down the hallway, knowing they would fall in step behind her. She knew she shouldn’t interrupt his work but what could be so important this late? He was busy, but not that busy.

Her steps faltered slightly at the closed door and lack of a guard standing watch. She knew Kide had the evening off but M’Baku wouldn’t, shouldn’t, be without a guard. He never let me sit in our bedroom without a guard, let alone my office, she complained to herself.

After a round or two of knocks with no response, she pushed the door open herself after deciding that being chieftess gave her the license to enter unannounced. She stepped into the dark, empty and undeniably frigid office to find no one. She walked over to the hearth and held a hand over the charred logs. When no residual heat reached her hand, which would have signaled that the fire hadn’t been out long, she ran her hand over the leftover, charred logs. They were cold. There isn’t a soul in Jabariland who could stand to sit in an office all night without a fire in the dead of winter.

Why would he lie?

She turned around and looked expectantly at her shadows, "Do either of you know where Lord M’Baku is?"

Jahari shook his head, "No my lady. He simply said he was working. Perhaps he is downstairs in General N’Danna’s office." Sympathy washed over Jahari’s usually emotionless face as he noted the anxiety and agitation flaring up in the young chieftess. The way she shifted her weight uncomfortably and pulled her bottom lip into her teeth to chew on it as she did often. He could practically hear the wheels turning in her head, her scientific calculations and best recommendations for her next move. He was surprised at how much he learned about Zarah in the last month, this being the most time he spent watching her. He could tell that she was still struggling. But unlike everyone who only got small glimpses of her or only captivated her attention for a short moment, he spent every hour of daylight watching her. He saw and heard the careful intention in every action she took and word she said, noted the great lengths she went to suppress the emotions that simmered beneath the surface, and admired the strength it took to hold herself together everyday while on the brink of collapse. Part of him wished he could give her the answers she sought, to ease her mind in some small way. But even he didn’t understand what was happening with Lord M’Baku and it wasn’t his job to. Regardless of his admiration for her, their marital problems - unless they became a danger to Lady Zarah’s safety - were not his concern. His job was simply to protect and observe, there was little he could offer her beyond that.

"I could call his guard if it pleases you my lady?"

She immediately shook her head, she had an idea of, not where he was, but what he was doing. A conversation from her father’s birthday party early in the evening floating to the forefront of her overactive mind:

"The bruising seems like it has cleared up. I am sure Lord M'Baku is happy about that. You need to do something about the bags under your eyes though, no amount of makeup can cover them. And this weight loss... You don't want him looking elsewhere because you have lost interest in your appearance," her mother scolded her quietly.

"I-I-I don't think I have to worry about that with M'Baku. He isn't that type of man," Zarah responded, avoiding contact with her mother’s disapproving eyes. She quickly scanned the party for her husband or brother, her usual saviors when her parents were on her case. However, N’Danna was nowhere to be found. She hadn’t seen him since the first course of dinner. And M’Baku was on the balcony on a call… again. She hated talking with her parents, it was sad but true. Their conversations were just fishing expeditions to offer unsolicited advice about her role as chieftess and her marriage. It was nothing more than harassment masked with fake concern.

"And I haven’t lost interest in my appearance," she tried to add through gritted teeth and a fake smile, trying to make sure no one noticed the tense conversation occupying the head table of the party. "I was almost murdered a few wee-"

"But you weren’t and you should be grateful to Hanuman that he willed it to be so. The Jabari must see that you are capable of withstanding any and every threat thrown at you. Do you think I cried and had panic attacks every time someone almost murdered me in battle? No! I cleaned myself up and continued on. As should you if you want to remain chieftess," her father interrupted.

Zarah jerked her head at the mention of her panic attacks. She would ask how they knew about them but it was how they knew about everything… the Lodge gossip mill. She hadn’t felt this drained during a conversation with her parents in a long time. Every conversation with them felt like a battle. However, she usually had a partner, her husband, who came to her defense, absorbed shots for her and motivated her to fight back. Without him on her side of the battlefield, it was a losing side. Her parents drained the energy out of her until she had little to meet them shot for shot with. Without him, it was easier to simply accept defeat and the emotional bruising that came along with it.

"Yes, baba." Her voice was despondent and cold, sounding more like a robot than a chieftess.

"Panic attacks… I mean really Zarah? That is no way to behave. You cannot lose control in front of the staff you command. And we have heard that he has been working longer hours? It is clear the two of you are having problems. I mean has he even said two words to you this evening? You can't risk losing your position, particularly when you have yet to cement your legacy."

Her nose wrinkled, "What do you mean ‘haven’t cemented my legacy?’ I am chieftess. I am the reason M’Baku decided to rejoin Wakanda. I have led several breakthroughs with Jabari wood to improve our infrastructure and lives our people," she continued ignoring the looks of disdain on her parents’ faces. "That is my legacy, our legacy."

Her mother immediately shook her head and waved her hand dismissively as if Zarah’s life’s work was inconsequential, completely irrelevant to the larger picture in her world. "But you have given him no heir. Any priest would allow him to cast you aside to find a wife who knows how to fulfill the duties that matter."

‘The duties that matter.’

She shifted uncomfortably, a smile still plastered on her face as she listened to them trivialize her accomplishments, cast doubt on the strength of her marriage and place blame squarely on her shoulders for it all. She thought she had gotten past all this. She exceeded their expectations and became chieftess and still wasn’t succeeding at it as they wished. She couldn’t make anyone happy these days it seemed. Her head fell slightly so her parents couldn’t see the cloudy overcast building in her eyes.

"Maybe you should speak with Healer Femi. You must give him an heir and soon. It will help you move forward and put this mess behind you once and for all."

"Yes, mama."

She hadn’t confirmed her parents’ suspicions about the problems within her marriage but she didn’t deny them either. M’Baku had worked late most nights lately. While she didn’t want to give her parents’ ideas more credence than they deserved, just like all her life, their criticisms took root and couldn’t be pruned away.

A month ago, she would have never given weight to the notion that M’Baku was that type of man. But now? They were different people, shaped and molded by horror and trauma and she couldn’t account for anything anymore.

"No, that is alright. I will just go back to bed."

Her face remained blank as she glided through the Lodge and back to her room. It was quiet, just the quiet taps of her shoes and the loud stomps of her guards’ boots filling the air. She felt Jahari’s eyes follow her as she took off her slippers and robe, climbed into bed and buried her small body under the covers. She curled into a ball, staring numbly at the snow falling gently out her window. She figured there would be tears, surmised that there should have been. But instead she just felt paralyzed, numb. A punch to the gut that knocked the breath and life out of her. She just didn’t understand.

How could he do this? Haven’t I given him everything?

Everything? More like headaches and grief. And no heir to show for the time he wasted on you. Now he has found someone who can. Can you even be mad at him? her subconscious threw back at her.

Yes!… No, she weakly argued with herself. She thought they were doing the right thing, waiting two years to have a baby. But she always wondered if he only agreed because he saw her weakness, how the council’s pressure got to her as she acclimated to her new role as chieftess. Now she missed her chance, another would have the opportunity before her.

She supposed that she couldn’t really blame him, she drove him into the arms of another. And she figured he would be happy. It wouldn’t be hard to find a woman better than her. Zarah started to accept this harsh inevitability that he would cast her and their marriage aside, as much as anyone could accept a fatal wound to their heart. She tried to think of other options, other reasons for his distance and coldness but she came up short. This is the only thing that makes sense. She also accepted that her life would be one marked for pain and loneliness once he finally decided to do it. Who could ever follow the great M’Baku? Only lesser men, she surmised. That’s what Hanuman brought me back from the brink of the ancestral mountains for? To see the life she was meant to have be ripped away and presented to another, while she was forced to watch and contemplate how she failed? That wasn’t a life. That was a different type of captivity, a captivity of which only Hanuman knew the end date.

***

"Lord M’Baku, we can’t continue to do this every night. You spend all day and all night looking for the man, maybe you need to step away from this for a bit. Get some real rest and attack it with fresh eyes. Or it is time to consider ending this charade and telling Lady Zarah? She may be able to help." T’Challa suggested. He was growing tired of these late night meetings. Not because he needed the sleep, one of the many benefits of the heart-shaped herb was that he didn’t require much sleep at all. But because he thought this manhunt was descending rapidly into an unhealthy obsession for M’Baku.

M’Baku shook his head violently. "No! Absolutely not. We have to find him. The longer he stays out there, the longer he makes a mockery of me and the Jabari. I won’t be telling Zarah anything until she watches me thrown Davu off a cliff."

"Well where else could he go? We have checked the Temple, the old villages in the far mountains, scoured every mountain we can. It may be time to consider the possibility that he is no longer in the country or escaped to the lower lands. If so, we may never find him."

"I don’t care if I have to track him down in a country on this continent or another, I will find him."

N’Danna shared a look with T’Challa that told him not to push the issue again. He tried to convince M’Baku to let this go for a week with no such luck. "Where could he hide in the Golden City or Greater Wakanda?"

"We have checked all the obvious places but we have vast forests of our own. Hell, I do not even know all the nooks and crannies of this country. I can ask Shuri, Nakia and Okoye if they know of any additional places that would be good to hide. They may have a better idea."

N’Danna nodded, "I think we should refocus. Outside of Jabariland and Wakanda. T’Challa, do you think you could send his photo to our War Dogs next door? They may be able to help if he snuck into their borders."

T’Challa nodded, "Of course. I will have Nakia and Shuri reach out to them. They have the most dealings with the War Dogs."

"I just don’t think he would leave Wakanda. His whole life is here. Would he even know how to survive elsewhere?"

"M’Baku… it is time to let it go. You have tunnel vision brother. There is no where else for him to hide here. I pulled our men back from the compound as well."

M’Baku’s nostrils flared. "What? What if he goes back?"

N’Danna braced his weight over their war table, frustrated at having to defend smart military decisions to his irrational chief. "We can’t maintain the lie that we arrested everyone and keep men stationed outside their compound! Either we admit we lost him and keep the men there should he circle back or we pull out. You can’t have it both ways."

M’Baku’s shoulders relaxed, understanding the decision after his initial rush to anger. He sighed. "Fine. Let me know what the War Dogs say."

"Understood," both men answered before signing off.

***

The wind howled loudly as he stood waiting in a secluded clearing in the forest. This spot was perfect, just far and tucked away enough that no one would accidentally stumble upon it. The branches lashed and crashed against each other, increasing the noise needed to mask this conversation. He paced back and forth, like the military man he was. The soft crunch of his foot as it broke the blanket of snow to connect with the frozen Earth below didn’t quite reach his ears. But he knew it was there, among all the other soft night jittering and harsh winds. It might be scary for some to stand there at night with no one around, but, for him, it was soothing. It was peac-

"Why the fuck would you ask me to meet you all the way out here? At 2 in the morning?" A voice angrily yelled over the winds. He heard the man before he saw him, forcing his eyes to roll only minimally as he turned to face him. Kasim was many things and irritating happened to be top of the list.

"Calm down. For someone yearning to steal my position, you should know it is filled with late nights. You should stop if you can’t handle it," Kide called back over the orchestra of natural noises, covering the small open space quickly to stand in front of his fellow soldier.

Kasim’s jaw clenched before he started to steer his body back toward the direction he came. "If your only interest is trading jabs, we could do that with our knobkerries in daylight in the warmth of the training center. Now tell me what you want or I am leaving." These last few weeks were frustratingly slow for the warrior who preferred working to anything else. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t need the extra rest. But if he could not work, the last thing he wanted to do was be dragged into the forest in the middle of winter by a man he didn’t like for no apparent reason.

"Alright, alright." Kide raised his hands in surrender, willing to halt his hostilities for a moment. He needed the man, he shouldn’t insult him. "I called you out here because this conversation can’t happen in the Lodge."

"And there are no other places in Jabariland to talk, that include a fireplace, other than the Great Lodge. Did Davu actually take over and revert us all back to cavemen while I was on leave?" Kasim asked sarcastically.

"Nowhere that isn’t overflowing with listening ears. And last I checked, trees and animals know no words. I don’t want to be here with you any more than you wish to be here with me. But unfortunately for me, you are the only person I can trust with this."

Kasim’s eyed Kide suspiciously. In his experience, information that can only be entrusted with one person is not information to be shared. And Hanuman help you if you are that poor unfortunate soul. "Me? Why would I be the only person in the Lands you can trust with anything? You don’t like me and to be quite honest, I don’t like you."

"Because I do not have to like you to respect you. And I know this much… you are one of the few guards I know who can’t be swayed or bought. You are true to the Jabari first and always. You would die for Lady Zarah. You love her."

"I-I-I d-do no-" he spurted, trying to quickly set the record straight. But Kide raised his hand.

"You don’t have to lie to me. You forget I grew up around her… She is beautiful, smart, funny, warm. She is a hard one not to love. I see it, I’ve seen it since the first time you met her." It was one of the reasons for his immediate disapproval of Kasim’s position as head of the Queensguard. One should not be in love with the person they are tasked with protecting; love leads men down a path of foolish decisions. He could see Kasim start to shift uncomfortably. "Don’t worry, your secret pining for our chieftess is safe with me. I can’t have Lord M’Baku throwing you off a mountain… not yet anyway. I-I thought you betrayed her."

Kasim nodded. "I figured as much when N’Danna told us to take an extended leave. Whoever did this… is a coward, a sorry excuse for a Jabari. I am neither of those things. Lady Zarah has my loyalty until my dying breath. I would have never let anyone hurt her and not done everything in my power to stop them."

Kide shifted his eyes to the trees to his left at the faint sound of rustling. He squinted his eyes to see if someone was there but when he couldn’t see anything, he deduced that it was merely a small animal.

"I know. I am sorry, I tried to put it together for the last few weeks and it didn’t make sense. But not everyone loves Lady Zarah like you do… values loyalty as we do. Lord M'Baku and General N’Danna seem to think this mutiny ends with the workers. We captured two of them, that is how they got access to the Lodge and their quarters." He reached into his fur and handed Kasim a small drive that held all the information on the kidnapping and the manhunt for Davu.

"This is everything we have. Information you should have been privy to since the beginning and I iced you out of. Apologies."

Kasim shook his head, waving off the apology. "I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. It is water under the bridge. But I take it, since we are out here, that you disagree with M’Baku and N’Danna?"

"Yes. You review the files at home and can tell me if you think I am crazy. Davu could just be a genius. A lot of this happened because we discounted him for so long. The workers may have been enough, they were able to give him access and a cover. Who knows what other information about the Jabari in general they could have passed along. But the fire is where it starts to fall apart."

"The village fire? The official report said it was an accident," Kasim said as he dusted the snow off a fallen log and sat down.

"Aye, but we both know official does not mean accurate. It was arson, set to draw M’Baku and the guard away from the Lodge."

"Ah, only a select few would know the type of emergency needed to warrant such a response. Certainly not two maintenance workers."

"Exactly. The workers could give him their best assumptions and maybe he just made a lucky guess. But they say he planned this for over a year. The entire plan hinged on creating the perfect circumstances to get Zarah while she was alone. Why would a man like that base his plan on sets of assumptions? He knew he only had one shot."

"He wouldn’t… He would set them on firm assurances and facts. Assurances and facts he could only get from certain people. Lord M’Baku, N’Danna, Elder Amari, M’Cebo, Mosi, Jahari and us," he listed, finally understanding. "You think it is Jahari or Mosi?"

"It is the perfect plan, a spy within the guard? Davu could have anything, know anything about us."

"Look… this is compelling yes. And I am not saying I disagree with you. But what you are suggesting is treason. Treason among men we train with, eat with, see more than we see our families. Are you sure you want to go down this road?"

"I love every man in our guard. I would die for them all, even you. But treason is treason. And traitors are parasites that threaten the very survival of us all. They must be plucked out. Are you with me?"

"And if it is one of them? You know what you will have to do? What we might have to do?"

"It is not about what I want to do. I will do whatever honor, my Lord and Hanuman command. They are all that hold my loyalties."

Kasim nodded. "What do you need from me?"

***

Kide strolled through the Lodge with N'Danna as they went over the duties for the week.

"I think we should put the entire guard through training just to ensure they all are still sharp and on their toes. We can do it in waves as to not disrupt their posts," Kide said as they walked.

"Understood. I think that is a great idea and by doing it with everyone, we avoid stigmatizing Kasim and Mosi. I heard they are having some trouble with the other guards."

"The usual harassment. I have told the rest of the guard to relax. Even I can understand being ambushed, it can happen to anyone."

"How mature of you," N'Danna smirked, surprised by the change in Kide’s tone after actively discounting the men for so long. "Elder Amari," he called, surprised to see his baba in the palace this early. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to speak with Chief M'Baku about this Davu business but he was in a meeting. It is bad form, son, what is going on."

Kide slowed his steps to trail behind the former general and his son, not wanting to intrude on their conversation.

"I mean, you both will look foolish if anyone finds out you let him escape. You cannot successfully lead this army if you don't have the respect of the people. Does your sister know?"

"No, M'Baku chose not to tell her. Which is why you can’t mention it to anyone, even mama."

"Good. I wouldn’t tell her if I were you. Her mental health can’t handle such a blow. You know your sister is not strong like the rest of us... isn't built for harshness. I mean this whole ordeal has been a mess. You all still can’t find him?"

"No. He has evaded us at every turn. We almost got him twice but each time, by the time we got there, he was gone. I can’t understand it. He is running out of places to hide. And you shouldn't say such things about Zarah... she is strong in many ways."

"But not the ways that matter," Amari answered, his tone signaling his opinion of his second born would not be swayed. "You can’t continue to be bested by a caveman son. He is making a mockery of your leadership. Did you all search the caves again?"

"Understood father. We will find him. And yes, still abandoned. It is likely that he will circle back there if he hasn’t already so we decided to pull them back. There are a couple still monitoring the entrances we know of but we cannot continue to perpetuate the lie we caught him and have a group of soldiers stationed there. And we have War Dogs across the borders looking for him, decided to focus our efforts there. There are few places he can hide here. We are leaving no stone unturned. Let me know if there is anything else you think we should do?" N’Danna appreciated his dad’s willingness to step in and offer counsel, his confidence in his military prowess dwindling the longer Davu remained free.

"Understood. You would be wise to lean on my counsel. I would like to see that lunatic’s body at the bottom of a cliff before Hanuman calls me to the ancestral mountains. But that can only happen if you and that chief shape up. Let me know how I can be of assistance."

"Yes baba. I have to go but I will update you later. Kide, alert everyone of the training. We will get it on the calendar tomorrow." The two men hugged and Kide shook hands with Elder Amari before they all parted ways.

***

"Were you trying to murder me today?" Mosi asked jokingly of his partner as they entered the training center’s locker room. He quickly untied his snow-covered boots and began stripping off his clothes, exhausted after running multiple miles around the mountains.

Kasim laughed, "Never that. We have only been off duty for a month and you were acting like an old man. We need to be ready when N’Danna lets us do the physical exam and get cleared for duty again."

"I am not as young as you," he chuckled. "Any idea what the hold up is? You are in the inner circle not me."

Kasim tilted his head, "Between the two of us, Kide doesn't believe that we were ambushed. Do you remember anything else about that night? That might help us prove what happened."

Kasim watched him from the corner of his eye. He noted the long pause and uncomfortable shifting Mosi did as he contemplated what to say. Mosi licked his lips before saying, "No, not really. It is still a complete blank. You realize Kide only questions the story because he dislikes you?"

Kasim laughed, "Probably true. Either way, I wouldn't read too much into it. Kide is one man and both N'Danna and Lord M'Baku believe us. I think they are just not taking any chances and want to ensure we are in tip top shape before we come back. You were saying you hadn’t had a day off in a while, consider it a mini-vacation."

It had been a week since his meeting with Kide, both agreeing to take time to see if their suspicions had merit. So far, Kasim felt they were baseless. Mosi wasn’t acting like someone with something to hide. Other than being slightly more anxious than usual, the man was acting normally.

"I suppose. I just hate sitting at home, nothing to do really. Anyway, I am going to hit the showers. Same time tomorrow?"

"Definitely! Don’t pull any of that old man nonsense tomorrow either." Kasim looked down at his beads, that he had sitting in his open locker, one pulsing a deep blue. "Oh my wife called, I should call her back."

Mosi nodded before walking around the corner. Kasim pressed the bead again, ending the pulsing from a staged call from Kide, and waited until he heard the shower going. Years of showering next to Mosi taught him that the man, after a tough session, loved a long shower. He had some time before he got out.

Kaşım secretly thanked God for his rebellious upbringing, where he learned how to pick locks. He surmised that it was one of the reasons Kide disliked him so. Kasim was rough around the edges when he joined the guard. While some like Kide joined knowing it was their life’s calling and decided that at a young age, Kasim had a different path. He was an orphan, his parents died after being caught in a bad storm while camping. He was taken in by his aunt and uncle but acted out constantly, getting into all manner of trouble. After years of trouble-making and missteps, Chief M’Badu, M’Baku’s father, offered him an opportunity to join the guard. He felt some structure would discipline him. He was right, Kasim excelled and straightened out his life, dedicating it to the protection of the Jabari. Not everyone thought he deserved that though.

He was also thankful that, while somethings in Jabariland were advanced, lockers were not one of them. He pressed his ear to the locker door and moved a pen around until he heard a quiet click, signaling that it would yield to his will.

He opened Mosi’s locker and rifled around the top shelves. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Maybe a sign with bright red serial killer letters that says "I am a traitor" like in old American movies, he thought. He carefully moved things around, not wanting to disturb the look of the space, pausing every so often to ensure the shower was still going.

The man is definitely a slob, Kasim thought to himself as he moved the heap of clothes at the bottom of his locker around. He was about to give up. Nothing that signaled "I am leading a mutiny within the Jabari" jumped out at him or even gave him pause until he found a small bag at the bottom of the locker.

He gently pulled the bag out. He opened it and almost blew his cover, stifling a series of curse words that almost fell from his lips. Wakandan dollars and lots of them.

"Where the fuck…" he whispered to himself. He quickly looked around the bag for any indication of who or where it came from but found none. He placed it back in its spot, putting the clothes over it and closed his locker, noting to take a second look tomorrow.

He quickly signed out a message to Kide, "May have found something. Meet tomorrow."

***

"This is the last time I can meet you like this," he called as he heard rustling nearby. "I can't continue to disappear. They will become suspicious." The sun streamed through the gaps in the trees as he waited, leaning against a tree.

"Understood," Davu answered, as he emerged from a break in the forest. "It was inevitable that this part of our alliance come to an end. Was it smart for us to meet in the middle of the day? You had no trouble exiting Jabariland?"

"I know where all the good exits are. That is why I chose this location, closest and easiest exit and far from the search parties. It is far less suspicious for us to meet while the rest of the tribe is working. And no one would question me going on a ride during the day."

Davu nodded, perching himself on the tree across from the man. "You have news?"

"You can go home now. M’Baku was fixated on you still being within Jabariland but he has been persuaded to direct his attentions outside Wakanda’s borders to Niganda, Canaan and Azania."

"Excellent, life on the run was getting old. Thank you for your help with that by the way. What next then?"

He scoffed, "Next? There is no next. I gave you everything you needed to succeed and you failed."

"Everything except telling me who the spy was within my men?"

"Only four people in Jabariland knew we had a spy in the Dwellers so it would have taken them no time to trace that back to me. And then my body would have been decaying alongside yours at the bottom of a cliff. I will help you but dying for you? That is where my allegiance ends. And had it not been for her tortured screams, that spy would have never known she was even there. You were supposed to take her, hide her and keep her long enough to make the demands. Not torture her mercilessly for two days," he responded angrily. "That was not a part of our deal!"

"You act as if you care about her as you plot to overthrow her husband and marry her off to a man she considers a religious fanatic. And our deal was that she survive. She is still breathing, is she not? Do any of them suspect you?"

"Don't you dare question my love for her. I have no love for that husband of hers but her life was not supposed to hang in the balance like this. She isn't built for it. And only one… her guard Mosi and he had the audacity to confront me? But thankfully, like many, his loyalties were easily bought. He remembered me walking by their quarters before they were ambushed. But $50,000 later and he now conveniently remembers nothing."

"Good. All is well then. If you are willing to reconsider my first proposition, we could speed up this process."

Laughter filled the quiet afternoon. "Betraying him is one thing but I won’t kill him. My betrayal would have been forgiven or forgotten when all the loyalists were dead but they would never forgive me if I stabbed our chief in the heart. If you want to send him to the ancestral mountains, then you must do so on your own. But if you go that route, you can count on my support when you make your claim against M’Cebo. You will need it. But you are safe to return to the caves. I will send a message if that changes. Lay low, bide your time. After a few more weeks, I will work to plant the seed that you are in Niganda, where you can’t be extradited. And then you can rebuild."

"Thank you. Until next time brother. *Hanuman shall rise again."

The two grasped hands before he saddled his horse again. "Hanuman shall rise again," he whispered before riding off.

***

Kide paced at the usual meeting spot, his life controlled by meetings no one could know about.

"You took your time," he complained when he heard rustling to his left, turning slowly to be face to face with Kasim.

"I didn’t realize our 2 a.m. meeting in the middle of the fucking forest had such time restrictions. My apologies. Do you have an update?"

Kide shook his head. "I haven't noticed anything odd about Jahari's behavior over the last week. I had the second guard on Zarah’s detail look into him as well. Told him Jahari was being considered for leadership. He hasn’t seen anything suspicious either. You found something with Mosi?"

"Yes, his behavior is normal. A bit more skittish and anxious but I could chalk that up to a reaction from being ambushed, not all that suspicious on its own."

"You found something in his locker?" Kide asked as he sat on the fallen tree across from Kasim.

"He is more religious than I thought so that could be a motive but his locker isn’t overflowing with love letters to Davu or anything. But there was one thing - money. A sack of it."

"How much?"

"I went through while he was showering, I didn’t have time to count it. Best estimate is around $40-50,000."

Kide whistled in surprise. "So certainly more than someone should have in their locker. More than a guard would have on hand. No indication of where it came from?"

"No… no note or anything. Just a sack of cash."

"So it was him?"

"I didn't say that. That money could have been from anything. You know some of the guards like to gamble… what if it was someone paying him a debt? Besides, if it was a bribe or pay off for being a traitor, why would he leave it in his locker? That would make him the world's dumbest criminal. I won’t throw my second in command under a carriage when there could be a reasonable explanation for this."

Kide ran his hand over his face, frustrated. "One, no guard - even an avid gambler - would have that much money on hand so that is out. Two, the guards should not be gambling so we will need to have a conversation about that. Three, Mosi certainly didn't make it onto the Queensguard because he is smart. If anyone was going to be dumb enough to leave that much money in their locker, it would be him. Four, Davu lives in a cave so there is no way he is hoarding that much money so he didn't pay him."

"So it is from something else or it is hush money. Mosi could have actually remembered something from that night that implicates someone else. This is all contingent on how far we think this goes. If it stops at someone helping him come up with the idea of the fire and gain access, then it is Mosi. But if we are also assuming someone is keeping Davu informed on this manhunt - which I think after reading through the information you gave me - then Mosi isn’t enough. He hasn’t been in those conversations so he is working with someone else."

"Well who else could it be? Mosi and Jahari were the only options."

"They aren’t are only options." the two men’s eyes darkened. "There are other people who would know our procedures, would have a reason to hurt Lady Zarah… would know about this manhunt and keep Davu steps ahead and would have access to cash."

"Lord M’Baku didn’t have his own wife kidnapped," Kide said incredulously. "That is absurd."

"I wasn’t talking about M’Baku," Kasim snapped. "Who else is in those meetings or would have access to the information shared in those meetings? "

"King T’Challa doesn’t have a motive. Davu is a threat to the New Wakanda he is trying to build. He wouldn’t unseat M’Baku for him. And M’Cebo doesn’t care enough about the throne to go through all this. You think…" Realizations washed over him. "You can’t be serious! Neither of them could have done this."

"Family ties mean nothing in quests for power and control. Remember the usurper down the mountains? He was the King’s cousin. According to Lord M’Baku, that whole thing started because King T’Chaka killed his own brother!"

"Because his brother was a traitor to Wakanda!" Kide hissed. "What would either of them have to gain from having her kidnapped and almost murdered?"

"Who knows? The same thing Jahari or Mosi would have to gain. More power, a person in power who believes as they do? Neither of them agreed with rejoining Wakanda in the first place, they were completely against it."

"Disagreeing with the policies of the tribe and trying to overthrow our chief are two different things Kasim! We are talking about treason!" Kide jumped up, frustration overflowing at the suggestion made.

"We were talking about treason when you tried to accuse me! We were talking about treason when we BOTH accused our brothers. When you had to potentially dangle my body or one of theirs over execution’s cliff, you had no reservations. ’Hanuman, Lord M’Baku and the Jabari are the only things that hold my loyalties," he repeated back, mimicking Kide who glared back at him with clear irritation. "Do you remember that big talk? But now that it could be your mentor and friend, you want to shy away? We aren’t meeting in the middle of the woods at night for something simple, all of this is treason. You started us down this road, you don’t get to back out just because you don’t like where it leads."

Kasim continued, "They both have a motive, access and means to help Davu pull this off. If Mosi’s money has something to do with this, maybe he say or heard something that implicates them? They are one of the few families with that type of money. You said that Davu has been evading the search party, one step ahead of us this entire time. Who else would know that information? Are we assuming that he is just a genius who can outsmart N’Danna, M’Baku and all the Panthers? They were both here in the Lodge during the kidnapping! And N'Danna led the rescue mission. I read over the plan, it should have been foolproof."

"That doesn’t mean anything. They were in a meeting, they both have offices in the Lodge. Hardly an implication that they were here that night… where they work. We can’t accuse either of them of this. The mere suggestion that our general or his son are traitors would turn the guard, hell the entire Army against us. You want my job so bad? How do you expect to be ‘head of the guard' with no support?"

"Neither one of us was winning any popular votes to begin with Kide. This is treason… I am not going to sacrifice the lives of our Chief and Chieftess to be popular, that is the definition of treason. And I am not suggesting we accuse anyone without proof. That’s what we need… proof."

"So you think it was N'Danna?"

"I think of our current options, N'Danna is the most likely suspect, possibly with Mosi’s help, wittingly or unwittingly. If the plan fails, Zarah and M'Baku would never think to implicate her own brother and if it succeeded, he gets to maintain his position and go back to the old days of isolation." Kasim sighed, "But I won't rule out his father either. Elder Amari spends his days slithering through the Lodge trying to insert himself in dealings that don't concern him. He is a bored old man and the bored usually find themselves in trouble. It wouldn't shock me if he has gotten information on this manhunt from N'Danna or another source and been informing Davu. It is a toss up. Look, I don't get any joy out of it being N'Danna or Elder Amari. Believe me, it would be easier on everyone to toss Mosi of the Peak than either of them, for sure. But if we are going to pursue this, we have to pursue all options, even the inconvenient ones."

Kide nodded reluctantly, his mind racing back to the conversation he overheard earlier of N’Danna giving his father all the information he wanted to know about their “secret” manhunt. He didn’t want to consider the idea that the man who took him under his wing or his son were capable of this. But even he couldn’t ignore the writing on the wall, the clear implications and evidence that pointed right at the both of them. Kasim was right, though he loathed it, inconvenience was not an excuse to ignore the truth.

"We can’t go to Lady Zarah or Lord M’Baku without more than this. What we have is circumstantial at best. At worst, they may consider it treason. We need Davu or Mosi, one of them to corroborate. Do you think you could get Mosi to talk?"

"I can… you know I can. Am I going to catch any heat for how I do it?"

"Not from me. Do what you must."

***

"I am glad we were able to do this. The Panthers will be here later tonight, the rest of the council in the morning so I will be busy entertaining them for the week."

"What are they here for anyway?"

"Shuri and I have a few projects to finish up, ones we were working on befor-" she paused, not wanting to wade into those waters right now. "And it is M’Baku’s turn to host the council, which is just a bunch of work for me." Zarah hurried around her room, pulling two glasses off a shelf in their lounge area and a bottle of high-quality rum, a gift from King T'Challa.

"Are you sure you are up for guests? I mean it has been a tough few weeks. I am sure King T’Challa would have understood if you canceled," Adisa asked seriously, as she poured her best friend a round. The two were enjoying their weekly tradition of meeting for drinks, but instead of meeting at their favorite restaurant, they were in Zarah’s bedroom.

"Seriously Adisa? What would the other council members say if we cancelled? They are just warming up to M’Baku’s position on the council anyway. He may not care what they think but I do. I couldn’t insult them or embarrass him by cancelling the whole thing. That would make getting the Jabari’s needs taken seriously even harder."

"Alright, alright. I get it, no need to bite my head off," Adisa said, raising her hands in surrender. "I just am worried about you. As is your brother, by the way. All he does is toss and turn all night these days, he is barely sleeping. When he comes to bed that is."

Zarah chuckled bitterly, "Well, you both can join the list then. Everyone is worried about me. Not that they need to be. Tell him he shouldn’t lose sleep over me though."

"You sure about that?" she eyed her long-time friend quizzingly.

"Yes!" She cried frustratingly. "I am fine. It's like everyone, including my husband, is determined to believe otherwise but I am fine. Almost all my injuries have healed and Davu’s execution is coming up. It has been over a month… all is back to normal. What do I have to be upset about?"

Adisa was thankful Zarah was busy pouring herself another round as she spoke and didn’t notice the way her face fell at the mention of her friend’s attacker. She cursed the heavens and her husband for even bringing her into he and M’Baku’s lies. She wished they had kept her out of it. But she went along with it because despite her friend’s attempts to convince her, she knew Zarah wasn’t alright and didn’t need to worry about this on top of everything else.

"Well, as long as you feel good about things, that is all that matters.” The two drank, enjoying pleasantries and surface conversation over several more rounds before Adisa attempted to probe into her friend’s life again.

“How are you and M’Baku doing? Given any thought to that heir your parents were harassing you about at the party? I am sure M’Baku loved that,” she joked.

Zarah turned her head away from Adisa, tugging on the sleeve of M’Baku’s sweater and shrugged her shoulders. "N-no… I doubt he will want to now," she muttered sadly.

"M’Baku? The man who has been wanting to get you pregnant since... well forever? The man who is trying to create his own personal army? Why would you think that?"

"He hasn’t… we haven’t… we haven’t had sex since I came home. Hell, he barely sleeps in the same bed as me. We haven’t gone to bed together since before Baba’s birthday party."

"What? M’Baku hasn’t slept in your bed in over a week?" She was shocked. The two friends told each other everything so she knew more than she probably needed to about their sex life. More than a month might as well have been a year for the couple.

"Yea… I tried but he has all but pushed me off him every time so I stopped trying. He will say he is just too tired or point to my injuries. I understood at first, they were not the sexiest thing to look at. But now? It’s something he isn’t saying. Maybe he just doesn’t find me attractive anymore. Not even two years in… not exactly a promising sign for the future right?" She quickly downed the glass in front of her, grimacing at the slight burn as it went down her throat, before grabbing the bottle to refill it again. It only took her a moment before that glass was empty again and she was grabbing for the bottle again.

"I am sure that is not it Za. M’Baku loves you, adores you. It has to be something else. And maybe you should slow down with the rum." Adisa had drunk with her enough to know that the chieftess was a lightweight.

"What else could it be Adisa?" She demanded, standing up and pacing by her couch. "I can see it in his eyes. Every time he sees me, he doesn’t see me. He sees that broken, half-dead woman they dragged out of that Hanuman-forsaken cave. Why would he want to be with that?"

"Zarah, don’t say such a thing. M’Baku doesn’t hold it against you, no one does. That was completely out of your control. It certainly hasn’t made him love you less, that is ridiculous."

"If it is so ridiculous then why has he found comfort with another woman?" Zarah asked.

"What?"

"He is cheating on me Isa! He refuses to touch me, he is gone all hours of the night, constantly checking his beads for messages. Last week, after the party, he said he would be in his office working all night. I stopped by to check on him, he was nowhere to be found. And before you ask, no he didn’t just step out. There wasn’t even a fire going." Zarah was somehow both the conductor and a passenger on a runaway train filled with a month’s worth of built-up paranoia and anxiety. She was guiding it as it as it bulldozed through logical thought and reason. But she also felt like someone else was in control it and all she could do was sit back and watch as it headed toward destruction.

"And he vowed he would never hurt me like this… never break my trust in him. I fall down on the job once, I wallow a bit too long for his liking and those vows just disappear. I should have known… I couldn’t satisfy him anymore so he found someone who could, a woman who doesn’t disgust him. A woman who isn’t broken. I guess this is just Hanuman’s will though right?" She laughed bitterly as she filled her glass again. "Everything is. All this pain, this destruction and heartache. And he just watches from above as we struggle to survive with the injury he inflicts on us all. He should have just let me die in that cell… that would have been less painful than watching M’Baku’s love turn i-i-into hate."

Adisa jumped up and grabbed the glass out of Zarah’s hand as it connected with her lips again. "ZARAH! Look at me. Listen to me." She grasped the chieftess’s shoulders to force her to pay attention.

"M’Baku does not hate you. He loves you. He is not cheating on you, I know it. Whatever is going on with him, it is not that. I don’t ever want to hear you suggest that you should have died. It would have destroyed him, all of us. You are not better off in the ancestral mountains than here with us. You are allowed to be angry at Hanuman, he deals a shit hand. But th- this isn’t healthy. You are hurting and holding all that in is killing you, Za."

Adisa reached the end of her rope. It wasn’t her secret to tell but could no one else see? Where they so wrapped up in this game of chase with a caveman that they couldn’t see the fissures slowly branching through Zarah? Was it not obvious that she was near collapse or were they all fooled by her dimmed smiles and forced positivity? Adisa didn’t know but she knew protecting M’Baku and N’Danna's pride was not worth watching her best friend flail and drown when they could provide a lifeboat. Initially, she thought keeping it a secret was protecting her mental health, giving her the optimal scenario to heal and cope. But now, she realized how wrong they were. While trying and failing to heal one wound, they ripped open old ones sending her friend spiraling back into the insecure woman she once was. Their job was to help her work through her trauma, not heap on more for her to deal with.

"You know what... I think you should go for a walk. Yes, a walk would do you some good," she suggested pointedly.

Zarah rubbed her forehead, face hot and head hurting from her paranoid-filled rant, and looked at her friend with confusion. "A walk? What will that do?"

Adisa placed a kiss to the top of her head before sliding her fur coat back on. "Walks clear the mind. Many elders say they find their greatest self discoveries during a nice walk. And maybe if your walk takes you to the back of the Lodge and to the last row of old offices… you may find a discovery or two of your own."

"Those offices are abandoned. They are just storage," Zarah said, shaking her head, still not understanding.

"Yes, abandoned storage spaces in a part of the Lodge where no one goes. Perfect place for late night meetings no one should know about. And I don’t know, maybe during your walk, you can happen upon one of those meetings."

Zarah jumped up, grabbing Adisa’s arm as she walked toward the door. "What do you know Adisa?"

Adisa squeezed her hand and opened the bedroom door. "A walk Za… You should get out of this room anyway. Call me after."

Zarah wasted little time pulling on her shoes and walking out of her room. She didn’t even waste time telling Jahari where she was going. She hurried through the Lodge, ignoring greetings and smiles from staff. She was a woman on a mission, a drunk woman woman on a mission. By the time she reached the back section of the Lodge, she wondered if Adisa had sent her on a fool’s errand. Would her husband be so bold as to cheat right here in the Lodge? That would be foolish. But she pressed forward until she reached the corridor that held the three offices. She tried to open one door but it was locked. As she grasped the handle of the second door, she heard it: voices. She turned it, thankful to find it unlocked, and pushed inside.

****

"Thank you for coming in early."

"It is no trouble at all. The council meeting will take up most of our visit so it is good to get this out of the way early," T’Challa responded. "Nakia heard back from our War Dogs."

"They all are keeping an eye out and working their contacts to see if he is there. But their lands are like ours, many places to hide and they have to be discreet. The War Dog in Niganda is our best bet, given our relationship with the country. If I had to put money on where he would go, it would be there. He likely knew they would not let us into their borders to find him or extradite him back to us."

"Davu was a former Jabari, he would know that history like the rest o-" M’Baku stopped talking as he heard the door started to open behind him, whipping around to come face to face with his wife.

"Zarah! What are you doing here?"

She walked in, briefly ignoring her husband’s question, as she tried to understand the scene in front of her. She stared around taking in the faces of her brother, the Panthers and her husband, surrounded by information on a computer screen and spread across a table. "I should ask you the same thing. What are you all doing here?"

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, tension steady rising as they waited for M’Baku to speak. His ship was sinking and they had no life rafts to spare. He was going to have to find his own way out of this one.

"Nothing to say? Because it looks to me," she started, gesturing at the computer that had Davu’s face pulled up and a map of Wakanda with clear markings of a detailed search grid, "that you are searching for Davu, which is odd because he is supposed to be in a cell downstairs. So let me guess… the late nights, the reason you won’t schedule the trials, you never caught him did you?"

"How did you find out?"

Zarah scoffed, lips pursed and alcohol-infused rage rising in her. "You just told me."

"Who told you of this meeting?"

"Adisa." She saw her brother’s jaw tighten with anger, "And don’t be mad at her. She is the only person who cared enough about me to tell me the truth."

No one said anything, no one moved. The silence and tension in the space was piercing as M’Baku and Zarah stared at each other, both struggling to find the words. The longer she stood there, stewing in silence and looking between her husband’s guilty face and the materials scattered around the room, the larger her rage grew.

"Za, I-"

"NO! You don’t get to call me that," she exploded, banging her fist on the table in front of her, unable to contain the emotions boiling over. "You don’t get to talk. You have been doing a lot of talking for the last month apparently and most of it wasn’t with me. And what was, was nothing but lies. Do you know I have been driving myself insane over you? Trying to figure out how to make you happy again, how not to lose you after everything else? All these late night meetings and secrets, I thought you were having an affair!"

"Zarah, you know me. I would never-"

"No, you would just lie and keep secrets, destroying the trust in our marriage all the same! Ho- Why? Why would you lie to me?" The alcohol in her system doing less to fuel her anger and more to intensify the hurt she felt. She thought he was better than this… thought they were better than this. The audience surrounding them was completely lost in the haze of her pain. Her tunnel vision was fixated on one person, her husband, whose heavy eyes spelled his guilt clearly.

"You let me believe I was safe. You let me believe this was over… that he was gone. And then to maintain this lie, you let me think that I was crazy and damaged. That I had done something to push you away when all of this is you," she ranted angrily, her frustrations reaching a tipping point as reality settled around her. She couldn’t tell what more upsetting: his dishonesty or the actual lie itself, the fact that the monster haunting her dreams still roamed free. She was never safe and would never be safe.

"You are safe. He will never lay his eyes on you again, let alone harm you. I will find him," M’Baku argued, his deep baritone usually reassuring, beckoning her to believe every word that fell from his lips. But not today, today she didn’t believe any of it.

"It has been a month and you haven’t found him yet," she cried, anger increasing with her volume.

T’Challa and the Panthers stole glances at each other, wondering if they should leave. T’Challa warned him that this wouldn’t end well. Secrets never lasted and the truth always hurts worse when it follows a web of deceit. But he also knew that many had to learn that harsh lesson for themselves, as was the fate of his friend.

"Perhaps we should leav-"

"No King T’Challa. Stay. My husband trusts you enough to bring you into his lies. More than he trusts his own wife with the truth. So stay."

"Za, that’s not true. I didn’t -" He reached out to grab her arm.

She jerked away from him. "Do not touch me! No, you didn’t… didn’t think enough of me, value me enough to trust me with the truth. Why? Because I am too weak, emotionally unstable to handle it? The man I married includes me in decisions that affect me. He trusts me with the full picture, whether it is a good one or not. He doesn’t lie to me. How long were you gonna keep this up?"

"I just needed time Zarah. I wanted you to heal and get better and didn’t want this hanging over you. I promised that I would find him and kill him and I will."

"You promised to be honest and open with me. I didn’t see much of a commitment to that promise when you were lying to me for a month! You promised to keep me safe! Where was your dedication to that promise when I was stolen from our home and tortured endlessly for days? Or do promises only matter when your pride is on the line?" She fired back at him, rage overflowing and voice at its loudest level as she argued without thinking.

A chill fell over the room as M’Baku’s head shot up, stunned and shattered at her statement. She noticed his eyes cloud over slightly, signaling that she let her pent up emotions run too far.

Zarah immediately felt a pang of guilt, she didn’t mean that. Her tone softened for the first time since her tornado of rage stormed into his office. "I am s-sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean that."

But the damage was already written in stone. The room remained silent as evidence of the fractures spreading between the Chief and Chieftess of Jabariland were laid bare for all to see. They looked without seeing each other, now only seeing the distrust, guilt, shame and resentment that were now seeping into their foundation. M’Baku remained silent as he took in her words. He still hadn’t rationalized the guilt he felt for the two days it took to locate his wife. He’d lie awake contemplating all the missteps and mistakes he made that could have been done differently, could have helped limit the extent of her suffering. Hearing those inner demons echoed back to him cut deeper, hurt more than any physical wound. She was calling into question every tenant of his being: his trustworthiness, his dedication to keeping his word, his manhood, his pride.

"Jahari will escort you back to our chambers Lady Zarah. We are done here."

The dismissal was swift, like a lightning bolt to her soul. She felt the pain of the scorched Earth that resided there spreading, snapping out the life as it went. There is little to be salvaged here.

She nodded, pulling herself to her full height before turning on her heels to exit. Her hand grasped the door as she started to walk out when she turned back around and addressed M’Baku again. "Are you happy I survived? Happy I am here instead of in the ancestral mountains?"

M’Baku’s eyes softened, the mere suggestion that she would fear otherwise further fracturing his breaking heart. "Yes, of course. Why would you ask that?"

"I used to think that, that would be the only way I would ever leave you. Hanuman would literally have to rip my soul from this Earth before I departed from you,” she smiled sadly, using her sweater to fully wipe the tear tracks off her face. The sad smile disappeared and was replaced with a coolness in her eyes that M’Baku had never seen addressed toward him.

“But death is not the only way to lose me, Lord M’Baku. It would serve you well to remember that." She didn’t spare him or any of them a second glance before she exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

***

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