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soul-controller · 3 months

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The Man of Steal

For Superman, it seemed like his desire to enjoy his normal civilian life as Clark Kent was an impossibility. Any time he planned to have any sort of family event with his wife Lois and two sons (be it dinner or a simple trip to the movies), there always seemed to be some sort of interruption from the news that begged for the assistance of the crime-fighting vigilante.

This was proven to be true once again as the Kent family began to assemble for their family dinner. Just as Clark started to help himself to Lois’ home-cooked meal, the television in the living room suddenly went off as a breaking news bulletin appeared. With his innate desire to protect others and save them from danger, the superhero couldn’t stop himself from leaning past the dining room table and taking a closer look at the screen. For several minutes, the man intently listened to what the news reporter had to say. According to that anchor, it appeared as though a museum a few towns over from Smallville had been broken into by a criminal.

When the reporter first brought up the fact that it was one individual stuck in a stand-off with nearby police surrounding the museum, Clark had originally decided to just allow the cops to do their job so he can spend time with his family. But as the news anchor began to include more details about the museum, Clark’s attention was immediately piqued when she stated that the museum had just recently opened an exhibit devoted towards educating everyday individuals about Superman and his home planet Krypton.

As soon as the reporter began to discuss the fact that the museum had a priceless amount of Kryptonian relics on display, Clark gave an apologetic look towards his wife and kids before quietly sitting up and rushing into his bedroom to pull his suit on. The threat of having some criminal get their hands on some Kryptonian equipment rightfully caused Clark to be alarmed. While he dedicated his life towards using these powers for good, Clark was fully aware of how detrimental Kryptonian items could be with others. In fact, it was for these exact reasons that he recalled how he didn’t even offer his blessing towards the museum’s exhibit when they first proposed it to him. Of course, his prediction came true and now he was going to have to fix it before countless people could get hurt! So as he pulled on his suit and took one good look at himself in the mirror, the man wasted no time rushing out of his house before pushing off of the ground and rapidly flying off into the night.

Within a minute, the hero was able to rapidly traverse across several miles of farmland and make his way to the museum. As he quickly made a hero landing onto the concrete road outside of the museum, Superman made his way up to a group of officers to get an up-to-date report about what had occurred so far. According to the head officer in charge, the unknown criminal had accidentally tripped a security laser upon breaking into the museum. With the assistance of drones that could look through the glass atrium in the middle of the museum, the police were able to determine that the man was working alone yet heavily armed with an armored suit and a high-grade weapon. As such, a stand-off was afoot with the police attempting to convince the man to surrender and prevent anyone from getting hurt. Unfortunately though, these talks had quickly stalled and the criminal refused to surrender, instead deciding to further barricade himself deeper into the museum.

Given the tough situation that the police were in, Superman was quick to offer his services due to his skill set and innate bulletproof skin. Although there were a few officers there who gave him sneers and angrily told him off for “invading their turf”, the Smallville resident tried his best to remain positive and cheerful in order to help bring another criminal to justice. Luckily, the chief in charge of the operation got his men in line and gave the superhero the go-ahead to help remedy the situation. After giving a slight nod in the chief’s direction, Superman levitated himself back into the air before flying up to the top of the several stories high museum.

Upon setting himself back onto stable ground, Superman quickly traversed across the museum’s metal roof until he approached the glass dome in the middle of the museum atrium. As he peered around, it didn’t take long before he saw the criminal walking around in the bulky armored suit. Not wanting to inform the man of his arrival though, Clark opted to quickly use his laser vision to cut out a portion of the window so he could slyly sneak through the hole to surprise the villain. Upon doing so and quietly setting the portion aside, the hero carefully squeezed his bulky and muscular physique through the cut-out section of the glass. Once he was through, the hero slowly levitated his way down to the ground floor and hid for a moment to conjure up a game plan.

As he quickly looked around, Clark decided to sneak attack the man with a high-speed collision to hopefully disarm him and destroy his suit so he could be easily apprehended and delivered to the police. Narrowing his eyes and taking a moment to prepare himself, the man then wasted no time as he flew at top speed and his body crashed through the long aisles of museum displays. Before the criminal could even turn to look at the source of the noise, the hero’s extended arms immediately collided with the metal suit and easily pushed him against the wall. But given Superman’s extreme strength, that wasn’t all as the force of his movement caused the duo to crash through the concrete wall before Clark gripped onto the collar of the suit and threw the man to the ground.

While the confused criminal grimaced and groaned from the impact, Clark wasted no time tugging off the suit piece by piece until the villain was left in nothing but his normal clothing. Upon peering down to examine the culprit behind the robbery though, Clark found himself shocked to see that the man’s appearance was quite unusual. Most of the villains he faced were these imposing figures who had bodies that were packed to the brim with a musculature that could rival Superman’s own physique. But looking down, Clark instead found a man who had no sort of muscle definition or impressive physical features.

Taking a look at the man’s overall physique, Clark was baffled to find that the criminal was stuck with fragile-looking arms and legs that seemed to indicate that he would be tired from even a simple jog down a street block. The man seemed young, yet with his high hairline and partial balding, Clark presumed that the man was in his mid to late 30s. To make matters worse for the man, the criminal’s pale white face and body was also ravaged with a vast array of scarring and tattoos that caused Clark to surmise that he was some sort of low-level gang member. Despite the gang affiliation though, it seemed like the poor man had been unable to pack on any muscle and was instead treated like a punching bag and guinea pig by the higher-level members based on the intense scarring that resembled knife cuts.

As the man began to stir back into consciousness, Clark opted to try and take a more gentle approach with the criminal. Clearly the man posed no physical threat to him, so he tried to be as delicate as possible upon extending a hand towards the man and quickly pulling him up to his feet. With the man looking around in pure horror as he saw his unsuited self and Superman’s imposing body, Clark tried his best to calm the man’s nerves and indicate that he had no desire to hurt him further.

“Hey, don’t worry, no more fighting needs to happen tonight. Given the threat level of that suit you were wearing, I just had to disarm you as fast as I could and figure out who was operating it,” he calmly said, looking down at the frail individual and trying his best to give a reassuring smile. “So, what’s your name?” Clark inquired, trying his best to form a connection to the criminal. In many ways, the frail and anxious man reminded Clark of his own son Jordan. Clark’s relationship with Jordan was currently strained at the moment, so the superhero father felt a strange desire to view the criminal as a stand-in for his son and thus try and be a positive influence to help the man change his life and be the best version of himself he could possibly be. If he was able to successfully do this for the criminal, Clark was hopeful that he could replicate the same thing with Jordan and fully reconnect so they could be as close as they once were.

Although the criminal remained tense and quite uncomfortable being in the hero’s presence, he eventually decided to answer Superman’s inquiry. “It’s Darren,” he said, a thick midwestern accent coming from his throat.

“Gotcha, well it’s nice to meet you then Darren. I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances, but alas here we are,” Clark said, finishing his sentence with a heavy sigh. “Your plan though, it’s over now Darren. I don’t know what you were trying to do here tonight, but let’s just end this now so no one has to get hurt in the process. Alright?”

After silently nodding his head in agreement, Darren shifted his head down in apparent shame as he slowly began to make his way back into the main atrium of the museum. As he passed through the large hole into the concrete wall though, the criminal opted to continue speaking once more. “I was just trying to get some quick cash to help pay for my mom’s hospital bills. She’s not doing good and I don’t have the money to keep paying for her tests,” he solemnly said, causing Clark behind him to frown in sadness.

Despite his innate desire to bring criminals to justice, Clark couldn’t help but feel severe empathy for the man. It seemed as though all avenues of Darren’s life led to disappointment and struggle, so it was no wonder why the man had no other option to resort to a life of crime! As such, Clark’s warm heart left him eager to try and help fix one aspect of Darren’s hard life.

“You know, I actually know some people who work at Metropolis General Hospital,” he began, tilting his head and looking down towards the captured criminal with a light smile. “If you wanted, I could definitely pull some strings and help get some of your mother’s tests covered for fr-” he continued, the words unexpectedly being interrupted as a sudden impact into Clark’s gut caused him to stop speaking. As he watched Darren pull his elbow back up away from his stomach, Clark’s eyes widened. The man had truly just said anything so he could get Clark’s defenses down and try to make an escape!

Watching as the man quickly fled on foot through the museum, Clark’s eyes began to rapidly redden due to the intense rage he felt about being tricked. Although he felt no pain from the impact due to his general invincibility, he couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed about being so easily fooled. But rather than allowing his laser vision to come out in full force and quickly stop Darren in his tracks, Clark mentally pulled back due to the fear of accidentally killing the man. Instead, he stood back up onto his feet, dusted off his dusty shoulders, and pushed off the ground to begin flying towards the still-sprinting criminal.

Given his rapid speed, it didn’t take long before Superman was catching up to Darren. To be fair though, the task was fairly easy for Superman as Darren’s frantic clumsiness had caused him to stumble over the tipped over display cases and trip over the various artifacts that those cases had once held. As he extended his arms out in hopes of quickly capturing the man now lying on the ground, Clark was eager to get the standoff over with so he could return back to his family before they finished dinner. While he thought about what he was going to do once he was back home on his farm, the man was unaware of Darren’s quick motion towards grabbing a hefty rock that had been held in one of the cases. In fact, he only ever picked up on this face as Darren turned towards to face Clark and immediately slammed the superhero in the side of the head with the artifact.

As a momentary pain rushed through Clark’s head, he quickly moved back to an upright position and stood back onto the ground so he was directly above the criminal who was still lying on the ground. However, as he waited for the pain to fade away, the hero was quickly overcome by a severe tingling sensation throughout his entire body. With this sensation rushing through his body, the man’s many years of crime-fighting and battles with intergalactic foes came back to the forefront of his mind. Bizarrely, the feeling felt both familiar yet incredibly foreign at the same time.

So as Clark directed his attention back to the criminal, his eyes quickly began to widen as he saw what had become of the artifact that had hit him. Instead of the blunt and gray rock that he had felt smashed against his face, it appeared as though his angular jawline had actually caused parts of the rock to crumble! By doing so, it appeared that a special Kryptonian artifact had revealed itself to be hidden within the rock - a small piece of red kryptonite!

Immediately, the tingling sensation that he felt began to make sense. Although he hadn’t ever experienced the effects of red kryptonite for himself, his extensive research about his home planet caused him to immediately recall some basic information about the rock type. The rock itself had a wide array of effects on Kryptonians according to his own research, but all of the examples Clark had read made it abundantly clear that this was a terrible type to encounter. As such, the man tried his best to reason with the criminal and get him to set the rock down.

“Hey, you got a good lick in there huh,” Clark inquired with a chuckle, rubbing his temple where the rock had made an impact as he returned back to standing on the ground. “Now let’s not do anything stupid here Darren. That rock isn’t safe for me, and by default, that means it’s not safe for you as well. So just toss it aside and I’ll forget all about this little outburst of yours!”

However, the criminal refused to agree to those terms, instead rushing directly towards Superman with a deranged and enraged expression on his face. Preparing to just stand tall and immediately disarm the man, Clark angrily scowled while putting his hands on his hips. Watching as the man gripped the rock in his right hand, Clark waited for the man to be in close enough proximity for him to hit him and cause him to drop the rock. With him now only a foot away, Clark immediately jumped into action as he lifted up his arm and immediately brought it down on Darren’s outstretched right arm. As expected, Clark breathed a sigh of relief as the rock quickly slipped out of his grasp and began to fall towards the floor. Unfortunately though, Darren apparently had quick reflexes, as he was able to reach out his left hand and quickly capture the kryptonite once more. Before Clark could fully comprehend the swapping between hands, the superhero suddenly felt the pressure of the rock make an impact against his broad chest.

Understandably, Superman feared the wild card nature of the rock’s power and thus instinctively pushed out his arms in order to make contact with Darren’s torso and send him flying away from him. However, as the motion was completed, both men were suddenly overcome with a dizzying sensation that rendered them momentarily with a full-body numbness and an inability to see. As both of these things made their return to Clark though, the man was suddenly shocked as an intense full-body pain coursed through his body as his back suddenly made impact against a concrete wall.

Grimacing as he slid down the museum’s wall, Clark let out a deep groan after his crumpled body made an impact onto the glass-covered floor. As he gingerly tried to sit himself back up, the sudden sounds of a deep bellowing gasp and chuckle caused Clark to grow alarmed. Peeling open his eyelids to finally take a look around the destroyed museum once more, Clark directed his attention towards the source of the noise. Upon doing so though, the superhero was immediately shocked to find himself somehow staring at his own smiling body!

Looking down in an extreme mix of confusion and fear, Clark gasped in shock as he looked down and now found himself looking at Darren’s own frail, pale, and scarred body. “Wha- how did this happen,” he cried out, notably triggered by the thick and surprisingly deep Midwestern accent coming out of his mouth. “That damn kryptonite, it must have swapped our bodies Darren!” Upon turning towards the imposter inside his body though, Clark immediately shivered in fear as that alarmingly wide smile remained stuck on his former face. Watching as the imposter cockily swaggered towards him, the superhero was shocked as the real Darren began to speak once more.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about buddy, I’m Superman!”

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#male transformation #body swap #stories involving superheroes #superhero #superman #hero x villain swap

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fluorescentbalaclava · 17 days

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training season's over

Chapter 6: Contact

Summary:

Contact (mil.) Contact with the enemy.

TF141/female reader, König/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, militar inaccuracies, sugestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, domestic fluff, enemies to friends, becoming buddies, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hugs, seeing König again

previous: chapter five "R&R"

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3 months later

"Listen---"

"---don't try to fuck us over. I know, Ghost, you tell me that every time," You whispered with a sigh, looking at him who was already looking at you, furrowing your brows. Already had the same conversation many times.

"Besides I've been on my best behaviour, you should give me some credit." You muttered, both of you were crawling on the ground, hiding in tall grass.

"Giving you credit for not betraying us? Fat chance," He mumbled back, making you roll your eyes.

Simple mission: Infiltration, one of your favourites. Ghost was against the idea of giving you that much freedom on the field, but Price decided that you were proven trustworthy enough to send you alone to steal some intel for an upcoming mission: coordinates for a delivery on the ports and its destination, that were kept inside a bunker disguised as an abandoned base. Of course, you were still wearing the ankle monitor, but at this point you got used to it, even put some stickers on it and Soap decided to draw a small foamy soap with a marker while you were taking a nap on the couch.

Price did allow Ghost to go with you to keep you in check, and watch your six while you got in.

It's been almost two months since Sage died, back on that private island, along with the Russian guard. And apparently Wire was born, as Soap considered it a more appropriate nickname for you, and quickly everyone followed, even Laswell. You had to admit that the double meaning behind it, alluding to the barbed wire you used that day and the fact that they kept joking about you being a spy was clever. You would still miss Sage, anyway.

On the bright side, they seemed to feel more comfortable using it rather than your other callsign, you guessed that it helped them to separate the “KorTac merc” from you. So, despite rolling your eyes when they first started using it, you grew accustomed to it. Although sometimes you didn’t turn around when they called you by it, forgetting your change of identity.

Ghost stayed back, letting you keep crawling through the fields alone. The breeze was nice, and the scent of the flowers was lovely, the ants not so much. Ghost freed one of the watch towers, eliminating the sentinel, and you secured a rope to climb, as he kept carefully shooting anyone who walked too close to his liking.

Ah, the coldness and the metallic smell of the vents, how I missed it.

After about 4 minutes you stopped, thinking you might have heard something in the distance, a muffled sound. After a minute or so of more silence, you decided to keep going until you saw the security room under you.

You carefully opened the air vent, putting the grill inside it, and with a swift movement you were down, your feet light against the ground.

The guard seemed distracted enough, not turning around and his face still facing the screens. Your eyes were fixed on him, as you took the knife out of your utility belt, holding it tight in your hand.

You crept up to him, knife in hand, and with a quick movement you grabbed him by the forehead to reveal his neck to your blade.

But something was wrong.

When you moved him, his whole dead weight fell to the side, landing on the floor. Lifeless.

You looked at him disconcerted, and just then you saw that the front of his uniform was already drenched with blood, the cut on his neck was still fresh enough to notice that someone got to him minutes before you.

"Maus?" You heard behind you, eyes widening and the grip on your knife tightening.

You turned around almost immediately, only to find König's towering figure about five feet away from you.

Back in KorTac you would joke to him, saying that it was impossible for the targets not to hear him coming, but now that you were in that place, he was silent, as if he materialized out of thin air. You neither heard or saw him, but a quick look around revealed an open maintenance closet where he was hidden, from where he heard some noises from the vent and saw it opening.

He recognized you on the spot, the way you fell from the vent as he peeped from inside the janitor closet, your hair in that bun, the way you stalked the man before attempting to strike. It was hard to recognize you with all that heavy gear, as he saw you wearing more scarce and light equipment before. At first, he tried to convince himself that it wasn't you, you would never wear camo and that 'awful military green' as you usually called it. But when he caught a glimpse of your eyes, he couldn't deny it.

You felt all your blood go to your arms and legs, staring into his eyes, the only part that his sniper hood left uncovered, black paint smeared around them, and he stared down back at you. Your brain immediately switched into survival mode. König was around 6'10” tall; you knew you were good, but you weren't that good, he would clearly overpower you in hand-to-hand combat. If you attacked him with your knife in hand, a quick strike on the neck could do, but you could also get yourself killed faster. If I reach for my gun I could probably---

But you were quickly snapped out of your thoughts when you felt him almost jumping at you, his hands quickly constricting around your body...but not in a harmful way.

He seemed to purposefully hold back, his touch careful. One hand wrapped around your waist while the other went behind your neck, as he leaned down and buried his face on the crook of your neck, holding you tight against him, your arms trapped on the sides of your body. A hug. You felt almost embarrassed that you were thinking about killing him. On the other hand, he was just glad that you kept using that bubblegum scented body wash.

"Krass! Maus, ich bin so glücklich, ich dachte, du wärst tot und niemand hat über dich gesprochen und---" He started saying in a hurried voice, as you were frozen in his arms, still processing what was happening. You have him a few awkward pats on his back with your free hand.

"König, english?" You asked softly, and he pulled away, looking down at you once again. His blue eyes filled with concern, looking into yours with familiarity, tenderness.

"I thought you died! I tried to ask about you and no one would say anything" he said in the same voice, a mix of excitement and anxiousness. "What the hell happened?"

"It's a long story" you said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by him, who was visibly thrilled to see you once again, and still slightly confused. "I got captured."

"Scheiße..." He muttered, and you could tell he was frowning under his hood. He then looked away, seemingly thinking about something. Before he started again. "We could go back to KorTac, explain to them all of this, and you're one of their best assets..."

You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes. One of their best assets? Probably his fondness of your talking for him. You were efficient, good at best, but still disposable. However, you kept listening to him, as he got progressively more carried away with his idea.

"...they could even relocate you to another country for a while, and cover your tracks, then we---"

Could you really do that? Just escape now in the middle of this mission? Would KorTac even want you back at this point? Or be willing to spend those many resources in helping you? They didn't even talk about you to König when he asked. Then your eyes drifted to the screens next to you. Your thoughts went back to being sat on the common room, sitting in the middle of Gaz and Soap, and them laughing at you as you sipped from the “I’m not short, I’m just more down to earth than most people!” mug they got you back in town. Price was a nice commanding officer, he was clearly experienced, and it was nice to be bossed around by someone who was actually in the field with you, rather than behind a desk. Ghost…was Ghost, he still didn’t talk to you when off duty, but he kept it professional while working.

And even if you and König were relatively close, you never sat down like you did with your sergeants with him, your talks were limited to sharing one hour when he was at base and conversations while travelling. You didn’t know what he liked outside explosives and sniper rifles of which he, very often and with a childlike enthusiasm, talked about. And this was the first time he ever touched you, let alone a hug.

When you joined KorTac, you ghosted most of your friends back home, completely going off the radar from them, even when they tried to reach out through your parents, your excuse was that you were too busy now. So, friends were scarce at the time.

And your parents. Fleeing would not only mean running away from the 141 but also from your family. Who would send them money if you ran away? The mortgage, healthcare, bills, they were too much for them. You didn’t see them frequently, but the idea of not seeing them ever again made your stomach turn.

And of course, you would become a wanted criminal.

"König!" He snapped out of his rambling and focused his eyes again on you, tilting his head.

"I can't" You softly said. Your voice too strained to your liking, as you looked up at him.

He still hasn't let you go fully, still embracing you, just put space between you to be able to talk.

"W-What do you mean you can't?" He said shaking his head, clearly confused. In his mind, it was the obvious course of action.

You felt his grip tighten around you, and your comm cracked.

"Wire, how copy?" Ghost's voice said through the comm, sounding slightly impatient, prompting König to look at the source of the voice on your shoulder, and then at you again.

"Almost there, need a sec" You answered not taking off your eyes from the man towering over you.

"Wire? Was that the lieutenant of the 141?" he said drifting from your face to look down to your geared body, as if he was connecting the pieces, trying to make sense of the situation.

“You are working with them.” He said as realization hit him.

"But why, Maus?"

"I have a family, König. I can't live on the run, and they offered me a deal if I worked with them…I…I can't go to jail" You explained, looking up at him furrowing your eyebrows in distress, and you pulled down your face mask, letting him see your face fully. If it was possible, his eyes became even gentler at the sight of your face, his gaze taking in every detail.

"Family…? I didn't know" He answered in a faint and soft tone, looking down for a moment.

Then he looked at you for a few more seconds, that felt hours. He felt conflicted.

König wasn't dumb, he knew that every time you spoke to him you only revealed surface level information about yourself. Except from your PTSD, that probably was too heavy a burden to keep to yourself. Then, his hand moved from the back of your neck to your temple, as he gently traced the scar that peeked out of your hairline, going into your hair. His glove was surprisingly soothing against your scalp.

He still remembers the day you were captured. The mission went wrong, Konni soldiers were waiting for you, it was a set up; he remembers the unsettling calmness in which you explained the tortures you went through in those four days you were missing. Tied up, without food nor water, as you were constantly deprived from sleep, waterboarded, tortured with electricity, beaten up…he still remembers when the initial shock faded, and was soon replaced by anxiousness, grief, fear. He knew well about that. He remembers when you finally broke down and confessed that you could barely sleep at night, haunted by memories of being tied up, in the darkness, alone, or of your captors beating you. He tried to sooth you, to explain to you it was normal, but you needed help. Weighted blankets, sleep with a light on, drinking chamomile before bed, he recommended you what worked best for him, as well as therapy. How he wished he would have hugged you like this back then.

It took you a few months until you went back to being fully functional, he tried to take you out of your room in the barracks for a walk or tea, when he was in base, which he admits wasn’t as frequent as he would have wanted. The first time you smiled again was while on a truck, going back to the safe house KorTac had in Berlin. You showed him a photo of the little animal figures you bought, he didn’t understand what they were exactly or their purpose, but he was glad they brought you joy.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he let out a sigh, finally pulling away from you, basically forcing himself to. He slowly reached for his belt, making you flinch and instinctively raised the hand with the knife, to which he rose his other hand in surrender, as he reached inside one of his pockets, pulling out a flash drive, offering it to you.

"This is all the intel we found. There's a whole KorTac team here, I am leading Delta today. You and your new...friend, should go."

"König?" He reached for his handgun, spinning it on his hand and offering it to you.

"You moved too fast, you stole my weapon and shot me, and you fled with the intel. Nothing I could do to catch you. And I didn’t even saw your face, it was all too quick." He said with a sigh, but still gentle. You grabbed the weapon with a bit of doubt and inspected it before looking up at him again.

"I'm not going to shoot you. I could just knock you."

"Be serious, Maus." He said in a tone that said that it wouldn't be believable, and you would be mad if it wasn't true.

"It's okay, I don't mind" he said softly again, reassuring you.

"König, I'm not going to shoot you" you said in a firm tone, the one that usually made him slightly uneasy, but you were now met with a determined demeanour.

"Then they'll know I let you run away with the intel, and I'll face the consequences for my lack of judgement" You can't remember a time when you heard him so decided about something, let alone getting shot.

You groaned and reluctantly lifted his gun. You didn’t want him to get in trouble, he loves his job.

Thigh is out of the question, as well as torso. Feet are not fatal but crippling...

Shoulder.

He must have seen you aim there, taking a deep breath to try to ease your tension at the necessity of shooting someone who you consider close.

"Avoid the brachial artery, and if you could kindly avoid the---"

"Humerus because it's painful, and branchial plexus or you won't be able to move your arm. I know" you said looking straight to his shoulder before your eyes drifted back to his eyes. His gaze still fixed in you.

"I...I can't"

"Yes, you can, Maus. And we're running out of time. It's a 22. calibre, if you shot on pectoralis minor avoiding my bones and arteries, I'll be fine. Will be an in-and-out. Flesh wound. Textbook," There's nothing textbook about this.

You took another deep breath, your eyes focusing on the spot, until they drifted back to König, and his gaze still felt unbelievably soft, despite the situation. You have worked with him since you joined KorTac, your commanding officer…your friend. He saw you become who you are.

"Thank you" You whispered to him, gratefulness in your voice.

He nodded, and the way his eyes were creasing made you believe he might be smiling.

Across the hallway, Delta-3, who was shooting the last remaining witness with his silencer, heard a singular gunshot. Coming from the same door where their C.O. disappeared a few minutes ago. He quickly alerted the others.

König didn’t have a big reaction. He squeezed his eyes shut while he grunted before he told you to flee. And you thanked him one last time before you jumped back into the vent.

"Ghost, I have the intel, but I've been compromised. Building is filled with KorTac operators. Meet you at the exfil point." You muttered as you were quickly crawling through the vents again, hearing behind you screams in German and in English calling for back-ups. He was kind enough to give you a two-minute advantage.

You went down the rope on the side of the building, from the watch tower you used to get into, and ran as fast as you could through the fields. When you were half on the way you heard screams, quickly followed by shots on the ground and the trees beside you, before your figure was lost over a hill, making König let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

You kept running until you saw the Jeep that you used to get there, with Ghost already sitting on the driver seat, the motor already on.

However, when relief was washing over you, panting from the long sprint over the hill as you opened the passenger door, you quickly met the end of a gun pointing at you. First you looked back in confusion…then in fear, but you raised your hands slowly, meeting his eyes.

"Ghost..." You managed to make out, your words were slow and careful. Your mind already too clouded with emotions from your encounter with König.

"KorTac, huh?" His tone was cold, cutting right through you.

"I didn't know! I even had to shoot one of them" Not mortally, and he let me, but still technically true. "Laswell checks all my devices, I never leave the base, you have a tracker on me. Hell, I can't betray you even if I wanted.”

Ghost was not one to trust, especially you. You were in the comfort of your flat, bought with your mercenary money, crossing paths with him, and pretending you weren't into his team like a damn leech. He had to admit you were a good liar in general, probably the reason why you were on the job.

"Simon…please." You pleaded, your hands still up, your voice almost a whisper. His jaw tightened, biting into nothing.

He knew that you were calling him by his name as a desperate attempt of moving something in him, to make him think of you as someone somehow familiar, to make him trust you. He hated that it somewhat worked. His eyes were locked on your face, studying it. When you would talk to him on the lift, or when you arrived to your flat, in your eyes, he could see that you were lying. It was just a hint, something quick, easy to miss if someone wasn’t looking for it in the first place. But today he didn't find that, he saw something else. You were telling the truth, and you were genuinely terrified.

He moved his thumb, putting the safety back on, and lowered his gun.

You breathe again, your body is still tense, and with your heart still pounding in your chest, you quickly get into the car.

You spend the next hour on a very silent road back to the airport.

As every Tuesday night, you were in the common room, sitting on the couch with Soap and Gaz, watching the Great British Bake Off, a new season. You liked it, it temporarily numbed your brain, and having company was soothing.

"I miss the old guys. I still can't believe that cunt won" Soap groaned, leaning back to the arm of the couch. He had his legs over it, and a notebook resting on his legs as he seemed not focused on the TV but in the paper in front of him.

"Bonnie, can you lift your chin a bit?" He asked, to which you just raised your face slightly, complying. Still focusing on the screen, attentively hearing today's recipe.

"It's been like one month, get over it" Gaz said, and when he heard Soap's request, he turned to him, peeping over his legs into his journal. He saw a halfway sketch of your profile, along with other small drawings like your mug and a sketch of Riley. He then added.

"Drawing her like one of your French girls? Very smooth, MacTavish" he said teasingly, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, she saw my journal and she asked me to. Besides she is still dressed..." He said defensively. He had to admit that having an excuse to stare at you was pleasant.

“…for now," He muttered under his breath with a small smirk, jokingly, winning a playful scoff from you.

"And I intend to keep it that way," You said back.

Gaz and you were watching attentively how one of the new contestants was putting his broken ganache aside, clearly frustrated as she started a whole new batch.

"She should try to melt it and whisk it. Still can be saved" A familiar husky voice said from behind the three of you.

All of you turned around, only to find a nonchalant Ghost, with his mask over the bridge or his nose, sipping on his tea and watching the TV.

Simon purposefully avoided the common room on Tuesdays, not wanting to perturb whatever ritual you had going on with Gaz and Soap, and to avoid you. The image of you, blood stained, sitting next to the guard you just butchered returned to his mind more than he would like to admit. The man was easily a head taller than you, bigger than you, and yet he was laying dead, face almost disfigured by your hand. He couldn’t help but being impressed, as he assumed you were only good to shove yourself into small spaces and stalk. Knowing that you were capable of such carnage, despite your size, sparked something in him. He hated that. But he appreciated the resourceful use of the barbed wire.

When you were in the jeep, silent and still shaken with adrenaline beside him, he felt a tingle of guilt from pointing a gun at you. He knew he was justified, as the whole situation felt oddly suspicious, but Price was right, you weren’t giving any reasons to doubt you, and you were right as well, as you were heavily monitored to even try something out of the ordinary. His thoughts were divided between apologizing and don’t, both sides had good arguments in his head. So, showing up was a middle ground. An olive branch, sort of speak.

"You bake?" Soap asked in an incredulous tone, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"I know a few things," He answered before taking another sip.

"How come you never bake anything for us?" Soap asked again, this time sounding outraged.

"You never asked."

chapter seven: coming soon!

Sorry for taking so long! Had a few small issues but I'm feeling inspired again! Will be updating soon <3

Thank you to the lovely people following this! : @no-lessthan3, @blush-haze, @eustassh, @valkyrieunknown

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod #konig cod #konig x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #john price

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shesjustanothergeek · 3 months

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Thirty

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hey, y'all! Happy New Year! I am giving another big thank you to everyone who moved on to 2024 with me. I never thought I would have this much recognition for a story if I'm honest. I can't comprehend how many people like something that I put so much effort and time into. It's honestly so wild, and I can't thank y'all enough. <3

Chapter Warnings: Larys Strong AGAIN, sexual humiliation, a lot of misogyny.

The discussion with Queen Alicent hung heavily and close to your heart, yet you held firm even when Aegon badgered you with questions about what she said, following you everywhere in the Keep like a pesky fly on a summer day. It was not right for you to divulge the information of private conversations; you wouldn't want someone to do that with yours, but as you thought on the subject in the following days and the eldest son's persistence, you let one thing slip.

"All right, Aegon, just be quiet!" you groaned with exasperation as he sat straight like a pup being scolded.

At first, you regretted telling him of Alicent's orders for you to leave King's Landing, though you realized it was more advantageous to do so. It furthered the divide between Mother and son, adding a sprinkle of animosity in your favor. After the discussion with Ma, it was necessary to ensure she still agreed to help prevent the Prince from becoming king.

Talking with her helped chisel the heavy rock lodged in your stomach since Aegon came floating into your chambers with jests of ruling the kingdom. Madam's network of spies ranged far across King's Landing but had yet to surpass that of the Master of Whispers. She assured you that even though Lord Strong had many, he did not have those that mattered.

You had to put trust in someone who was not yourself, and that was something that never ceased to cause the rock to mineralize again.

***

The crimson leaves of the Heart Tree swayed in the winter breeze, its bone-colored bark reflecting the cold temperature. You pulled your cloak together, a rather elaborate thing of golden furs and embroidered satin.

You would not have chosen it for yourself, but Aegon insisted on purchasing it while you visited the Street of Loom. And once the tailor noted two finely dressed individuals, one with silver hair, buying a matching gown was simply a must.

The merchant pitched the garment much higher than you saw his other items and fellow workers. You planned on letting the Prince use his coin any way he wanted for your trip, but that was something you could not let him do.

The Loom merchant resisted your haggling, his expression one of offense for thinking he would ever overcharge a crowned Prince, but you knew better. As a girl, it was your job to purchase supplies and food for the working women, and with golden dragons far and few, you managed to afford enough to survive. Or, well... steal.

By the end, you left the swindling tailor with a new fur cloak and a dress to pair, an intricate solid gold belt with asscher cut diamonds thrown in for the trouble.

You felt proud of yourself for securing such a bargain. Your inner child who sought the approval of those you admired was fulfilled. Even though the gown matched the elaborateness of the coat, something you would not choose if, in your wardrobe, you wore it with confidence, your chin high and shoulders rolled back.

Aegon made you feel these emotions, you thought as you listened to the whispers of bloody leaves above. He helped you grow and blossom in ways your Father or Mother could never. He lifted you onto the pedestal you deserved. You were not the bastard daughter of Daemon Targaryen to him; you were everything.

You were his friend, lover, the only person who understood him, listened, comforted, and dried his tears when no one else cared. You deserved to have someone who treated you the same, gave you the acceptance and validation you craved, someone who did not see you as an extension of themselves to do their bidding. Aegon gave that to you, a perfect equal of give and receive to one another, a match made of love and not politics.

And his love was peaceful. It was calm. It kept you warmer than the coat the Prince bought you, even as the winter air swept through your neatly plaited locks.

"Princess," a masculine voice called, the sound softer than the whisper of mist surrounding you in the early morning.

It was so quiet you hadn't a clue who it was, turning with a polite smile and your arms neatly tucked behind your back. You wished you hadn't acknowledged the man as Lord Larys Strong stood before you, hunched over his finely crafted firefly cane, curly hair loose at his ears.

The sigh you released at his presence was hardly proper, squaring your shoulders as you spoke with all Courtly people. "Lord Strong... What a surprise. How may I be of assistance?"

The man snickered, bowing his head as he waited for you to take a step closer as was deemed polite. When you did not move, your amiable expression never leaving, he grinned, finally speaking again.

"Yes, Princess, a pleasure. I was hoping to speak to you on matters of the Prince," he expressed.

All the color drained from your face.

"The Queen has brought it to my attention that, perhaps, you are spending too much of your time with the Prince. She believes that it mayhaps be better spent else where."

The flame of hatred for Larys Strong was reignited with a sudden burst; your jaw clenched as your eyes became slits.

"I believe what you speak is untrue. The Queen and I have come to a..." you paused, unable to find the correct way to express the secret Alicent unwillingly divulged, "certain understanding. We've discussed her concerns and come to an agreement. You've no need to worry yourself on her behalf." You nodded with a genteel but firm finality, pulling your fur coat closer to your body as you began to exit, set to see only one person in mind. "Good day, ser."

Larys was not foiled so easily. He had spent the entirety of your stay at the Red Keep waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity to trap you in his web. He refused to let the bastard girl with dark eyes and blood on her hands get away and moved his wooden cane into your path.

Despite the Lord being hunched over due to his deformity, you still had to look up at him, his blue eyes sharp and cold like the brackish waters that clashed on the cliffs of Dragonstone. "Forgive me, Princess, but Her Grace has sent me to speak with you, and I do not intend to keep her wishes unfulfilled."

You squinted in response, taking a single pace back and rising to his eye level. "I believe we can speak plainly here, Princess. I know you find the manners of courtly talk abhorrent." When you did not halt him in his silence, he continued, slightly tilting his chin down like prey seeking to appear meek and unappetizing to its predator. "Do you recall all those years ago, when you were just a young girl, stolen from all she knew?"

The recollection of those events was something you still had difficulty allowing yourself to recall. So many life-changing and heart-shattering things happened in that short time, but you still sought to process it. Larys' lighthearted approach to it caused your chest to feel hollow. The memories of isolation, loneliness, fear, and anger all came flooding past the protective dam you created.

"I thought to extend you a helping hand in your time of need, but you turned it away. It hurt me deeply to see such a young child broken and scared enough to reject an offer from the goodness of one's heart," he expressed, blue eyes lowering to the frosted ground in mock reverence. "I am, once again, simply a man seeking to help a scared girl in a world over her head."

Fury ran hot through your veins, boiling your bones and the very blood that gave you life. Before you realized it, your hand was wrapped around the Strong Lord's throat, fingers digging into the flesh and tendons as his gaze filled with fear. It would be easy to kill him. A simple twist of the neck would be all it takes, just the way your Father taught you. You were sure he would be proud of doing so.

The thud of Larys' cane hitting a stone as it found its way to the ground caused you to realize the severity of your actions, looking around to ensure no one saw. A young servant scurried along the covered hallway separating the Godswood from the Keep, realizing he was caught.

It was most likely one of the Master of Whispers' "spiders" that he so lovingly called, keeping watch to ensure that if anything of value happened during the conversation, there would be more than one witness.

Your grip loosened for Larys' neck, his unruly stubble scratching against your palm as it slid down to the collar of his intricately sewed tunic, resting your hand on his chest. You giggled, the sound eerily contrasting the seriousness of your attempted murder, a heart-stopping grin pulling your cheeks.

"The only thing that is preventing me from putting you where you belong is justice for all the other little girls you sought to take advantage of." Your breath was hot, steam hitting his face as a dragon would. "It is not me who will execute your punishment. The Gods have a place in the Seven Hells for men like you."

You let go of your hold on his jerkin, the Lord crumbling at your feet without his cane. The sight was fitting. A man who constantly searched for ways to hurt people, to harm people, for his own game was cowering before you. It was his proper place.

"Tell the Queen that my decision remains, and that my Mother also remembers their shared youth fondly."

You spared the Strong Lord no parting glance, leaving him to reach for his walking stick with embarrassment that only a man like him deserved.

***

The force of Aegon's thrusts pushed you up his extravagant bed, mewling and moaning as you sought for purchase in the sheets. He was feral as he plowed through your walls, noises emanating from his chest that sounded like a growl.

"These fucking tits," he groaned, eyes locked onto your jolting mounds. Your head tilted back in euphoria underneath his gaze, clenching around him.

Your breasts were moving in time with his brutal thrusts, making you unable to fully catch your breath as the air was pistoned out of your lungs. Aegon's hands pawed at them, kneading the malleable flesh underneath his fingers roughly as you released a nasally sound.

The Aegon that was submissive to your touch was gone and left only a man who chased his desires inside a woman's cunt. Each push caused his cockhead to kiss your womb, moving his hips more mind-numbing than the last.

Aegon had one goal in his sights, fuck that sweet puffy cunny of yours until you forgot all worries. He grew to know the telltale signs of your distress: cuticles frayed, mouth crude, and constant fidgeting. He had noticed the rawness of your lips, skin nipped and picked until the flesh turned red and white, legs never ceasing movement at rest.

He did not believe it despite you telling him about the conversation with his Mother, and now Larys Strong did not bother you. Aegon understood that expressing your dolor was foreign, never having someone to divulge your worries to and have them validate them. He knew it would take some time for you to grow comfortable and accept that someone would give you a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen with, but he knew one way that always helped him forget his troubles...

Getting fucked.

And if Aegon so happened to get the added benefit of his pleasure, it was not something he would refuse.

His arms hooked under your knees, spreading them apart as he continued to rut into you, droplets of sweat glistening on his chest, creating a sheen that sparkled in the candlelight.

He was such a pretty boy. It was a thought that ran through your mind every time you saw him, and it created a deep envy to be a part of the same House and yet gifted such plain features. Aegon, with his elegant silver hair, exotic purple eyes, and smooth porcelain skin that showed veins of blue and green that looked like threads weaved into the tapestry of his flesh. With your dark hair and eyes, you have simple features for what people believe to be a simple girl. The only thing that indicated your Targaryen lineage was the white in your strands of ebony and the purple hidden within your irises.

Your hands couldn't help but run over the planes of his chest, muscles rippling from exertion. It made you grateful to have someone so close to a god panting above you as his cock rubbed against your sweet spot.

Aegon's fists grabbed your own, leaning over to place both on the pillows beneath your head. Hot arousal shot through you at the action, his face hovering above yours.

You captured Aegon's lips in a desperate kiss, whining and wanting intimacy as you swallowed each other's breaths. The hair at the base of his manhood rubbed against your pearl, causing your legs to jerk inward to your body and your hips to move on their own accord, grinding against his pelvis.

"Fucking take it," he hissed against your cheek, hips pistoning into you like an animal in a rut.

"So good," you sighed, legs wrapping around his waist.

"You fucking love this, don't you?" You nodded into another kiss, his lips trailing down to suck at an already tender spot beneath your throat. "It's so hard being the one who takes care of everything. Sacrificing your happiness for the good of the realm, being the dutiful daughter your Father wants you to be."

Your nails dragged down his shoulders, digging into the thick muscle as he bit at the vein on your throat, licking the sensitive spot to soothe it. "I don't-" you breathed, voice faltering as his fingers snaked to the throbbing bundle of nerves, circling it swiftly, "I don't want to think about that right now."

"Oh, but all you do is think," Aegon purred, balancing his weight on his unoccupied forearm. "You think, think, think about the realm, family, the future, me." He exaggerated, punctuating every word with a thrust.

Each movement of his hips and fingers hurdled you toward the edge at breakneck speed, your body unable to catch up as you felt slick leak around his cock, trickling down through your arse. The sounds coming from between your legs caused you to shy away in embarrassment, attempting to hide your flushed cheeks in the goose-down pillows.

"Oh, no, no, no," Aegon teased, pushing your head back to its place, seeing the tears that gathered in your shut eyes from his forceful thrusts. "Let me see that face, and those eyes, pretty thing. Beautiful."

You released a sob at his compliments, unable to process the intensity of his gaze, the mere centimeters away his countenance was from yours. You could see every microexpression form on his features, every pull of his brows, every pinch of his lips and clench of his jaw. The noiseless grunts in your ear were better than the finest music you had ever heard, better than anything a bard could play, sending you teetering over the edge.

"Come on. Peak for me, Princess. I know you can do it."

Aegon did not falter in his actions, continuing with the harsh snaps of his hips, jolting your breasts, causing you to grab them for purchase as his fingers rubbed your swollen nub until you finally burst.

A gush of slickness rushed from your womanhood as you released with a fierce cry, your peak crashing into you like waves in a storm at sea. It collided with your body as you arched and shook, digits digging into your breasts, eyes seeing the night sky and stars blooming in your vision.

"That's it. You're doing so well," Aegon grunted, halting his movements as you clenched brutally around his shaft, keeping him firmly in place. "Just let it happen."

Your hands tangled into his hair, gripping the roots meanly as the spasms of your cunt eased, leaving your waist and limbs trembling and twitching beneath your lover. As your heart calmed with your chest heaving, you grabbed Aegon's face, smashing your lips against his, realizing he hadn't reached completion.

"Aegon," you whispered against his mouth, beginning to question him.

He shushed you, knowing what you would ask before voicing it. He understood you would not give up so easily as he felt your hips begin to undulate, pushing past your overstimulation in search of pleasing him. The Prince pulled out before you could assist him at the expense of yourself, lifting your pliant body and positioning you on your stomach, head at the foot of the bed.

Delicate strands of ebony stuck to the back of your neck, trapping the heat and sweat into a sticky, uncomfortable mess, though you hardly cared. You lay there flat on Aegon's wrinkled sheets, your chest rising and falling as you fought to catch your breath.

Everything had been so quick and intense that you had trouble comprehending what had happened. One moment, you were sitting in the Prince's solar, fuming over Larys' words, and the next, you were rutted into at such a pace you thought the bedframe would crack. Yet, despite an underlying notion of befuddlement, you were at ease. Your limbs felt like they were melting into the mattress, a euphoric warmth wrapping your body in its comforting blanket, mind fuzzy.

Aegon gently nudged you from your head with tender touches of his digits, smoothing your hair away from your neck and above your shoulder with tender kisses. A deep, nasally moan came from you at the action, slowly rousing and returning to your body. His kisses began to travel lower, sweetly nipping and sucking places where the skin rolled.

He pecked each vertebrae of your spine, cherishing the very flesh of your bones. Aegon knew that kisses and actions of affection would never be able to display how deep his love for you went, but he would try. He would honor the very ground you walked on, worship your body as if it were the Maiden's, and pray to the sacred passages written in your veins. He knew it was sacrilegious, but he would gladly suffer the wrath of the Gods as he had a sliver of your love.

Finally, Aegon's lips reached your bottom, leaving a last kiss to your tail as he leaned upright, gazing at the ambrosial sight before him. Your curves, hips, waist, and arse were almost celestial in their beauty, the yellow candlelight illuminating your form. His hands dragged down those very features, squeezing when he reached your bottom, pushing the globes together as he dribbled a line of spit from his mouth to in between them.

You perked at the unexpected sensation, turning your head to see Aegon fisting his cock, angry and red at his procrastinated release. He pushed your skin closer together, member sliding in between the two mounds of flesh with ease.

It was strange to have him fucking the crease of your arse, skin enveloping his manhood like a glove, but it wasn't unpleasant. Any touch from Aegon was something you welcomed, especially when he was satiating his desires within your body. The mere thought excited you once more, your abused cunt arousing as he continued to seek his fulfillment.

It felt almost freeing to be used in such a way. You would allow Aegon to do as he pleased because you trusted in him. You both went through enough anguish and heartache to leave you raw and unable to hide, your soul bare for the other. For once, you had no worries, no purpose other than to lay there and let someone take care of themselves without the anxiety of wanting your help. The thought made your cunt clench with arousal.

Aegon's thrusts were sure in their intent as his fingers pinched at your cheeks, keeping the skin taught to resemble the feeling of your velvet walls. You let out a breathy sound, keeping your legs closer together as your thighs rubbed, seeking friction you knew only one thing could give you.

"Awe. Is that little cunny of yours wet again?" he patronized, voice sounding like a dove. "Do you need your brat prince to fuck you mindless again?"

You nodded, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow with a pathetic mewl that would leave your Father ashamed as Aegon slowly entered. The stretch was not as severe, your walls having grown accustomed to his girth as he began to do shallow, sturdy thrusts.

A low, almost inaudible grown released from your throat as pleasure leisurely began to mount. Aegon slowly lifted your hips, leaving your upper body prone as he used the new position for better leverage, skin molding under his fingers.

His pace was rhythmic, rooting into your cunt with a sureness of a skilled musician with their instrument. The contrast in dynamics between the Aegon who was impuissant against the denial of your presence, the Aegon who had brutalized your womanhood, and the one who now tenderly groped and massaged your flesh was stark. It sent your head spinning, retreating into your mind as your pleasure soon overpowered your senses.

"So beautiful," the Prince rasped, drunk on the pulsing sensation of your cunt, "so beautiful, my beautiful princess, my goddess."

His words were mumbled together, too far drowned into the cup of sex, spouting incoherent confessions of love and oaths that would put even the most lovelorn of poets to shame. Aegon could not shake the captivating movements of your body, enthralled with the repetitive ripples of your skin, violet eyes flicking to where his cock disappeared.

***

The halls of the Keep were bustling, being only a few hours past high noon, the sun shining over the top of the grey clouds. Ser Arryk had just left his midday meal, something you insisted he take after learning about his tendency to skip it in favor of his duty.

His path was sure as he walked between the red rock walls, armor clanking with every step. You had told Arryk you would meet him at the library in the west wing after his luncheon, but you had yet to show. He waited until the sun was in a low position before he left, conjuring excuses the entire time.

You were a princess, a woman who had duties to attend to, so it was common for you not to be punctual, but typically, you would send word by either servant or guard. It put an uneasy feeling in the knight's stomach, though he told himself not to worry. You were capable and could defend yourself if need be, yet he was still concerned.

Arryk was your protector. He swore an oath to the realm and you that he would serve and lay his blood before yours.

He knew he could be rather melodramatic at times; you told him so with a shake of your head and a bright smile. He repeatedly replayed the melodic lilt of your voice inside his head until he reached the eldest Prince's doors, his twin brother standing outside it.

He greeted Erryk with a nod, his twin staring back at him with a furrowed brown like his own.

"I am unaware of the Princess's whereabouts. She told me that we would meet in the library, but has yet to show. Have you seen her, brother?" Arryk questioned with a stiff spine.

Erryk continued to gaze at him with curious blue eyes. "Did she not tell you?" he inquired, tilting his helmeted head as he answered. "Her Grace and Prince Aegon have been within his chambers since this morning."

Arryk's heart began to race, blood rushing to his head and thumping in his ears. "In his chambers?" he echoed, voice rising. "Brother, you know this is entirely inappropriate. You are directly putting a child of the crown in danger within the hands of-"

He couldn't finish, his twin swiftly grabbing his arm and looking to ensure no one heard his treasonous confession.

"I know this, Arryk!" he shouted, a blue vein popping on his forehead. "I know the depths of his depravity better than anyone, yet I continue to do my duty without fail! What say you, brother?" He interrogated with an intense gaze, anger simmering into a steady boil. "Where is your, Princess now? In the bed of a lecherous wastrel who entertains himself with whores and drink."

"She is not," he replied hastily, like a child trying to convince a parent. "She would not debase herself."

Erryk stared at his twin, the person he shared a womb with now so distant and cold. An air of anger and disbelief he had never seen Arryk possess in his entire lifetime shook him to the bones, causing him to pause.

He had heard of the rumors of Princess Rhaenyra and her former protector, Ser Criston Cole, but never thought it was possible. The Kingsguard swore an unspoken oath of celibacy and no romantic love, yet here, his brother held a fury and sense of betrayal only a lover would feel. He needed to stop him from going down a path he could never follow.

Erryk stepped away from the door, and his brother entered without hesitation.

Arryk traveled through the Prince's entry room, dodging furniture and end tables with more skill than a stag. He heard noises from beyond the bedroom walls, and his stomach sank. He understood what they were, but his denial was too strong, guiding his limbs with a forlorn dread to the eldest son's bed chambers.

Hope did not die that he would enter into nothing. The soft grunts and moans were, for some other reason, only the Gods would know. He would even be relieved with the possibility that Aegon was taking you by force. Arryk would be able to do what he swore and protect your honor.

Anything. Anything would be better than what the knight's icy gaze saw.

There you lay on the Prince's bed, arse up and curves on display in Aegon's hands, moaning in adoration as he pounded into you from behind.

Arryk wished you were dead, oath be damned because this... this was far worse. The pair of you beat his already shattered heart bloody on the floor, crushing in time with the Prince's sure thrusts.

You did not hear Ser Arryk open the door. You were too lost in pleasure to be aware of anything. Aegon brought his appearance to your attention, blood running cold.

"We have a guest, little one," he jested, unceasing in his movements.

Your limbs went rigid, your body going into fight, flight, or freeze, your mind scrambling on what to do, where to go, and what to say. Aegon's unwavering ministrations did not help as you inhaled panicked breaths.

Pushing yourself up to hide in shame, he quickly grabbed you, hooking his arms around your waist and across your chest to your neck, putting your naked form on display.

You yelped at the sudden change in position, Aegon's cock nestling inside you impossibly deeper as he continued his ruts. You couldn't comprehend what was happening. It was all too much.

Pleasure, embarrassment, shame, and fear were at the forefront of your mind as your eyes burst with tears. It set your nerves on fire, your already overstimulated body alight with every emotion and sensation you felt. Your muscles were too weak to protest against Aegon's hold as his hand snaked down your mound of black curls in search of that bundle of nerves.

"Please," you simpered, attempting to hide your face in the Prince's damp hair, "don't look at me."

Rivers fell from your peculiar eyes at an alarming rate. You felt like that same little girl on the day Madam cast you out. The day that had set everything up into the perfect maelstrom you now lived. You were ashamed, almost fearful of Ser Arryk seeing you in such a vulnerable state, a condition you required the utmost amount of trust for you to be in.

You should be furious at the person who put you into this situation, displaying your most sacred parts for a common person to see, but you couldn't. You were only confused and terrified.

"My sweet girl," Aegon cooed into your ear. The kind words created no comfort, instead causing a guttural sob to release from your chest. "Tis all right. There is nothing for you to shed those pretty tears over."

Nothing could stop them, yet soon they turned into wet moans as his digits swiped at your nub with more purpose, a singular, humiliating, yet arousing goal in mind.

"Please... get... out," you beseeched the knight, finally bringing your watery gaze to meet his aghast one.

You could see it written plainly as the tomes you studied, Ser Arryk's betrayal. His sheer disgust for the sight before him. It made everything so much worse.

The protector's thoughts were treasonous, oath-breaking. You were a fine warrior, Visenya reincarnate, yet you let this man defile you. He wished you were another one of Aegon's victims, raped and uncared for, because then he would not have to witness this... this vulgar and repulsive display of pathetic, willing vulnerability you gifted Prince Aegon.

Arryk had worshiped you on a pedestal in silence. He compared you to that of the Mother and fantasized about a life separate from societal constraints where you could be what he dreamed.

But that was gone now, burned in the flames of those who shared the dragon's blood.

"Come now, Ser Cargyll, I am not blind to your affections toward my Princess. You should feel honored to see her in such a way," the Prince antagonized, his thrusts sure as they wound the already-formed ball in your stomach.

"Stop," you pleaded breathlessly.

That was the word Ser Arryk waited to hear, hand going to the pommel of his sword as he took a dangerous step forward.

"Oh, don't be so tense," Aegon chortled. "She may say to stop, but if I do, she'll beg me to continue. Isn't that right, little one?"

You refused to dignify his belittlement with a response, instead choosing to release a low mewl, head lulling as if the weight was too heavy.

You were growing dangerously close to your peak despite the horrendous shame that bubbled up inside, and you desperately did not want a member of the Kingsguard to see you in that defenseless state.

"You are going to bear witness to such a sight, ser. You shall be the second ever to see the glorious act of her release," Aegon continued to deride, making that feeling of self-hatred all the more prevalent. "I can feel her clenching, her cunt begging to peak, milking me for my seed." His lips moved flush against your hair, his breath moist as he uttered subdued grunts.

"Let go, my love," he pleaded, voice now noiseless and tender with scores of love and adoration. "Do this for me, please? I need you to come. Show him that you belong to me, that you desire me, love me."

You could never deny Aegon; it was one of your shared vices.

With a gentle kiss to the crown of your head and a handful of harsh ruts, your second peak arrived. It rattled your bones and overwhelmed your senses, feeling as if your mind had left this realm of existence from the sheer intensity of it.

Moans of ecstasy pierced Ser Arryk's ears like a needle to the eye, the sound causing bile to fill his mouth as he ran from the room, unable to keep watching and missing how the Prince sullied your perfect skin.

It relieved Aegon that the knight finally left. He grew increasingly guilty for the tears he had caused and continued to flow freely. Perhaps he had pushed you too far, he mused as his hot spend dripped from your stomach and onto the sheets. Anxiety crept into his chest as he felt your body finally grow limp, your hands grasping any part of him you could find to ground yourself.

You realized then that this moment was more for Aegon than you. His tears welled in his amethyst orbs as he began to apologize profusely. His actions came from a deep-seated insecurity that no reassurance could ever mend, and while it did not excuse what he did, it provided reason.

Remorse was the least he could offer after disgracing you in favor of tending to his broken ego as he kissed every piece of skin he could find. It would take time for you to forgive Aegon for the sexual humiliation he put you through, and you realize that he understood that, too, as he spouted incoherent regret.

You loved him, perhaps too much to be considered sane, but that was another item on your list of shared vices.

Masterlist of Series

You know that no one can be happy for long in this universe. That's all I'm going to say xD.

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn , @malfoytargaryen , @targaryencore , @justasmallbean , @omgsuperstarg , @sommornyte , @silverslive , @prettykinkysoul , @djlexi , @ynbutbetter , @legolas017 , @iiamthehybrid , @dd122004dd , @ladybug0095 , @millies0bsimp , @kalfild , @sheislonelyalways , @tempt-ress , @minttea07 , @trikigirl271 , @esposadomd , @prettywhenicry4 , @daenerysqueenofhearts , @justarandomflowerchildofthenight , @partypoison00 , @please-buckme , @pastelorangeskies , @existential-echo , @priyajoyy , @valaenatargaryensdragon , @merovingianprincess , @candy12110 , @w3ird11 , @ruhjkie , @somemydayy , @marikkjj , @zillahvathek , @sunfyresrider , @heavenly1927, @prettylittlelady, @hjgdhghoe , @im-sidney , @aurorathi , @marihoneywk

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nebulaafterdark · 1 year

Text

Of Love & Beauty

Requested by anonymous. I've a got a smutty blurb request with harwin. there's a tourney and he asks reader (his betrothed) for her favor, he wins, and makes her the queen of love and beauty. later she gives him a different kind of favor which he accepts eagerly. the flower crown stays on 🤭

I love this idea! In rereading this ask I realized you might have meant a different favor. I’m sure he would still appreciate this lmao 💜

Warning: 18+ ONLY, smut, fluff

“Might I have your favor, my lady?” The knight asks, approaching the crowd closest to where Y/N sits, enjoying the festivities.

“But of course.” Y/N bites back a grin, moving to stand with her offering in hand. Tossing it down to land directly on his sword.

“You honor me,” he smiles, proudly, directing his horse back to the center of arena. His next opponent is of little challenge, the masses cheer. Hailing Ser Harwin Breakbones the strongest knight in the seven kingdoms.

Of course when all is said and done, Lady Y/N, is crowned as his Queen of love and beauty. They drink the night away, lost in celebration, finally stealing away to his rooms.

It is improper, but they’ve never cared much about that. The two lovebirds are soon to be married anyhow.

“Now that you have me at your mercy, what will you do?” Y/N arches a brow, toying with the neckline of her gown. Perched at the foot of his bed.

“I’m going to celebrate with my Queen.” Harwin grins, kneeling to slide off her tights. Kissing the newly exposed skin of her knee. He helps her out of her gown and small clothes, leaving the flower crown in place. “You are the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms.”

Y/N feels all the air leave her lungs, his gaze is dark. The intensity charging tenfold as she strips him down.

“You are always so good to me, my Queen.” Harwin tips her chin up to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.

“Because I love you and you deserve to feel cared for…desired.” She stokes his cheek.

Harwin hums, low in his throat. Moving past her to the pillows, laying on his back, hand outstretched toward her. “Come.”

Y/N obeys, slinking up beside him, kneeling at his side.

Harwin takes her by the waist, positioning her to straddle his hips; erection a breath away from her sweet cunt.

Her eyes flicker over the length of him, growing wetter at the sight. They have never made love this way.

“I want you to take your pleasure from me. Give us both what we need.” The knight insists.

Y/N nods, lips parted as she rises up on her knees. Guiding the head of his cock to her center and sinking down inch by inch. Feeling the familiar stretch of him, but he is somehow deeper than ever before. Y/N whines as she takes him to the hilt.

“Good job, sweetheart.” Harwin encourages. “Knew my Queen was made for me.”

“I-” she struggles to speak as Harwin helps her rock against him. Still acclimating to the angle.

“It’s alright,” Harwin coos, stroking her trembling thighs. “You can tell me.”

“So deep,” Y/N whimpers. Having gotten her bearings enough to begin moving, up and down.

“Mmm,” he hums his approval.

The tip of him brushing over that spot inside her within each pass.

Harwin thrusts his hips up to meet hers. Enjoying the soft furrow of her brow, the flower crown jostling about her head in time with her breasts. Reaching up to cup them and roll her hard little nipples between his fingers.

“Love you,” Y/N pants, chasing her release. Fucking him for her pleasure alone, using him.

Harwin, for his part, is thoroughly enjoying the desperate display. “I love you more.” He can feel her tight walls begin to flutter around him. His love is coming undone, bundle of nerves brushing against him with every pass. “My Queen of love and beauty, I cannot wait to call you my wife. My everything.”

Y/N cries out, pulsing around his length. Falling forward against his chest.

One of Harwin’s arms move to her waist, securing her in place while the other holds the nape of her neck, tenderly as he hammers himself up into her warmth. Drawing out her climax, not letting her come down. “That’s it, Y/N. Cum on my cock, milk me.”

“Fuck!” She sobs, nails biting into the skin of his shoulders. “Harwin.”

“I’ve got you.” He assures her, fucking faster still. “You just keep cumming for me.”

The pretty little thing in his arms can’t seem to stop, spasming around him until he spills his seed deep inside.

The pair of them fight for breath as they come down from their highs. Harwin strokes his betrothed’s back patiently, peppering her face with tiny kisses. A grin spreading across his lips at the realization that she is still wearing the crown.

#hotd smut #house of the dragon #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong x you #ser harwin strong #harwin smut #harwin strong #ser harwin x reader #harwin strong smut #harwin breakbones

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anon-sect · 1 month

Text

Max was in the back room monitoring the security cameras. He kept an eye on one guy who seemed suspicious. He didn't want to jump to conclusions before seeing any evidence of foul intentions. As he monitored him, he saw him stuff several store items into his jacket and zip it up. He had to teach this shoplifter a lesson. He told one his employees to keep an eye on him while he left to confront the guy.

The employee pointed to the guy when he got in the area of the store. He has had stuff go missing recently but was unable to catch the culprit. "I think you have something that belongs to us." He spoke to the guy, who seemed to brush off the accusation.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Larry replied back, trying to play it off. As long as they couldn't prove it, he could once again get away with stealing from the store. So far, they haven't caught him yet.

Max was not letting him get away with robbing them blind once more. "I saw you on the camera stuffing a few items in your jacket. You can either fess up or I call the police and show them footage from my security cameras." He paused as he decided to increase the pressure on him. "I think you have been the one doing the recent thefts in my store. I am sure my cameras can probably prove it if I look a little further." He finished. If the guy failed to submit, he would proceed with his threat for sure.

Larry didn't need to be arrested for shoplifting. He could call the store owners bluff, but that could land him into a lot of trouble with law enforcement. He didn't want that. He unzipped his jacket and handed the items to the store owner. "Happy now? Can I go?" He asked back, annoyed that he was caught.

Max had no intentions of letting the culprit just walk out his store without learning a valuable lesson. "Sure, just know I will report the other thefts, and report you as the suspect." He threatened to him.

Larry surely didn't want that to happen. He had to bargain with the store owner to keep law enforcement out of the situation. "What can I do to make this situation vanish? Do you want me to never come back into your store ever again?" He asked, wondering what he would request to keep the cops out of this mess.

Max smiled. "A weeks time helping me out here at the store and with other things would do." He offered to him. Max smiled because he knew exactly how the thief was going to help him, and it wasn't just in the store only.

"Okay, deal, just don't call the cops, okay." Larry agreed. He followed the store owner to the back as ordered. Once the door was closed, he saw him hold a strange device in his hands. "You time starts now." The store owner spoke as he fired a ray of light from the device. A few seconds later he lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

Max smiled happily as where the thief once stood was now a black pair of AND1 sneakers. One week's time under his feet should do it, he thought to himself as he took off his current shoes and put on the newly formed sneakers. They felt so good under on his feet. He should try more living inanimate objects more often, he thought.

Larry suddenly awoke to a slightly foul odor. He tried to get away from it but found himself completely unable to move on his own. He also felt himself wrapped around something that was causing him an intense measure of pain. He finally figured it out when he felt toes wiggling on his face. The foul smell was in fact the vinegar smell of sweaty socks. The pressure he felt was feet standing on and crushing his insole face. He was literally a pair of shoes. He knew exactly whose feet was wearing him, the store owner. He wanted to curse the guy out, but now all he wanted to do was be normal again. He didn't want to be footwear. Just standing still was very uncomfortable for him as sneakers. All of the store owner's weight bearing down on him, along with foot odor and sweat. He mentally pleaded for this to be some crazy dream, but it was his reality. A week's time as sneakers, he thought his mind might not survive it.

As Max continued to work, he decided to the thief really needed to learn a lesson that would be permanent. Since he stole from him, he would steal his humanity from the thief. He would keep him as his sneakers and treat him as the object on his feet. No more humanity for the thief. At least this way, he won't have to worry about him stealing from his store ever again. The next thief he catches just might be a pair of socks. If living inanimate objects felt this good, he just might have to get more. As for how the thief would feel about being shoes for the rest of his life, he didn't care how the guy felt about it. Shoes don't have any rights anyway.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #sneaker transformation

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princess-ibri · 6 months

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So I remember you said in your Disney-Verse you were going to use the scrapped plot line of Aladdin and Mozenrath learning they were long-lost brothers and that got me wondering how Cassim and Mozenrath's mother met and ended up having relations that ended in the conceiving of Mozenrath.

@rememberingmermaids Yea! Sorry for the wait, I had some other projects I needed to finish first.

So in the og story of Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves, Ali Baba's brother is named Cassim, and he dies when the theives discover him stealing from their cave. And Ali Baba ends up later marrying his son to his servant girl Morgiana after she helps save the family from the thieves when they try and sneak into his home to get revenge for stealing from them.

And since we know that some version of this story does happen in Aladdin's reality as Genie mentions it, I thought it made a ton of sense to have our Cassim be the son of Ali Baba. He's named for his uncle, he grew up poor and despised, so him talking about being called a streetrat and wanting more still totally works. Then his family finally gets a taste of the good life. Wealth and the comfort and security it brings.

But then something goes wrong.

Somehow the wealth fails. Maybe bad investments, bad luck. Whatever faitytale tropes befall once wealthy families to bring them low. Ali Baba can't find the magic cave again, it's moved to a new location (being magic and all). Cassim watches all that security fall away and his family that was so well respected when they were rich goes right back to being shunned once they're poor again.

His wife even leaves him. Though tbf to her, it had been an arranged marriage set up by his father. A reward for Morgiana, so he thought. Now she was a member of the family and not a servant! Never mind if maybe she'd wanted something else from her life. Like actual freedom.

Not that Cassim was a bad husband per se, he just wasn’t what she chose, nor he her. And when she sees an opportunity to forge her own life for once, she takes it.

Neither of them realize she's carrying his child.

So Cassim, desperate to regain a taste of what he'd had, goes on a desperate search to find that magical cave his father had told him stories of so many times.

Along the way he makes many friends and foes, more the later, which causes him to take up several aliases. Its under the guise of a lamp seller named "Hamid" that he meets a young adventuress named Zena, and the two soon fall in love and marry (after he's told her who he really is of course).

And for a while he's content.

But once they have a baby on the way, the old need,want,obsession comes back. He's got to find the treasure cave for the baby, for his family. To prove that he's not delusional and hasn't wasted most of his life on this.

He leaves. Fails. Comes back. They're both gone. He leaves again. And this time he finally succeeds. It doesn't feel like the success he hoped it would. But with nothing else to live for but gaining more gold, he claws his way to the top of this new incarnation of the 40 Thieves, and tries to block out the memories of his old life.

Morgiana meanwhile, has always had a talent for magic, and she uses it and her wits to get by in the world. For herself and her son. It's a hard life, constantly on the move, but it's a free one. And her young son it turns out shares her magical talent. For several years they're happy together.

Until they catch the eye of the sorcerer Destane, ruler of the Land of the Black Sand. He coveted Morgiana's power, and her beauty. When she refused him both, he turned his wrath on her, and unfortunately, his power was greater. Her son he took as his slave, and something of an apprentice, though only to make him more useful. The boy hated his captor, but was cunning, biding his time until he had learned enough in secret to overthrow him and take his place as the lord sorcerer of the Black Sands. His hatred of his erstwhile master and desperation to be his own, led him to greater and greater schemes of power. At one point to trade his true name in order to possess a magical gauntlet that would triple his power, a boon he would need if he were to achieve his goal of conquering the Seven Deserts.

And from ever on, he was known as Mozenrath.

***

Meanwhile on Jasmine's side, young sultan Hamed Bobolonius II (who's name we know from a deleted line in an earlier song draft x) was smitten the instant he saw his intended bride, the beautiful Princess Badroulbadour of Sherabad.

(So smitten, in fact, that he ended up picking a flower for his new bride from an enchanted garden, an act that ended up getting him into some hot water later on.)

The princess was unsure of her new betrothed at first but was so won over by his kindness and enthusiasm. Their story might not have as many twists and turns as Aladdin's parents did, but it had a lot of love. They were very happy together, especially when their daughter was added to their family, and were grateful for each moment they had together up until the Sultana's untimely death, soon after the appointment of the Sultan's new Royal Vizir.

(Badroulbadour, it may be supposed, was a much better judge of character then her overly trustful husband, and therefore was better off "out of the picture" in the schemes of Jafar)

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artzzyb00-27 · 6 months

Text

{💙Secret Admirer💙}

Taken from your family and brought up in a place you loathed was something screwed up. Even more so when you're experimented on to explore your "potential" in their eyes. That's how it was for reader, taken from Earth with a portal and raised by the Krang in attempt to create a weapon for mass conquer and destruction was torture.

Even more so when she got to age limit of training and was sent to Earth after the attempted invasion to try again. Secretly lightly sabotaging her "families" efforts at opportunity. It became greater with the turtles appearing in her life. She found them interesting, being in the near vicinity made her feel like she wasn't abnormal due to having powers that her captors gave her.

Every time they showed up to decipher the Krang's plans, she'd leave clues blatantly out, but not so obvious for them to get suspicious. After some watching from afar, she could tell that the one baring katanas and wearing blue as his color palette was the one giving orders. Drawing interest towards him from reader.

A few instances and being at the same place at the same time without interacting turned into her rescuing his shell any chance she could. It became scary how easily he got distracted and got his ass kicked. So using the very thing that made her a villain in anyone else eyes, she started turning the tide in favor of the turtles.

At some point after continuing to aide the guys, they realized their success wasn't just luck anymore. Specifically Leo's luck. One time when fighting some Foot Soldiers, they managed to get the slip on Leo, literally, and had him falling of a building. Instead of landing hard and cracking his shell, he slowed down in the air and landed on his feet without injury. Another incident was an attempted ambush on the Foot Soldiers trying to steal supplies at the docks and they knocked Leo out getting him kidnapped.

When his brothers couldn't reach him in time, the truck with an unconscious Leo began to drive away before it was shot at the tire, causing it to flip and have Leo fly out. After returning to the lair the brothers had tried to look through nearby security cameras to find the source of the blast. No chance. Cameras were already altered as if the altercation never happened.

Which only confirmed their believes that someone was helping. How it occurred, they didn't know. Till this point they've never seen magic before, or other mutants with powers so at first they believed it to be technologically advanced assistance. Like anti-gravitational beam guns, or biotech from afar.

When Leo was almost killed by a Foot Soldier catching him off guard, stopping mid-air floating with a katana aimed for Leo's throat and sent flying the opposite direction, Raph reached his limit.

"We can't pretend like that didn't happen!"

"I know Raph, but what do you want to do? Call 'em up and say, 'Hey, thanks for saving me! Also who are you?'" Rolling his eyes and trying to walk away from the conversation. Of all people to not be complaining about the help, Leo was not expected to be the one to act like this. Typically he'd be confrontational right away if it was happening to any other of his brothers.

"Hypocrite." That made the leader freeze. With the other two siblings hold their breathes. "If it was Mikey, you'd be begging Don' to help you investigate whoever was causing this to happen. Why is it so easy for you to ignore your own safety." With a hard sigh, Leo turned around with his head up and eyes closed.

"Fine. Let's find out who this person is." After some discussing, they came up with a plan. Donnie had been developing holo-bots. Helpful for training, and in-combat fighting against enemies. Using an AI design page that he pirated(as if he was spending 30$) he was able to make the holo-bots look like foot soldiers.

After some further detail fining, they set up the "ambush" of Foot Soldiers on turtle leader. And like planned, mystery hero showed up. Or more accurately, mystery heroine. When one of the holo-bots "cut" Leo's leg and he made a convincing groan of pain, reader leapt down and activated her powers. Before blowing them up though, they dissipated back to their mini-portable computers and Leo's injury was revealed fake.

When she finally realized he was examining her with intensity, she thought he was judging her or planning on how to attack. So being reasonable, she turned to flea but ended up being surrounded by the others. At an attempt to try and keep running, Raph pinned her cloak to a metal pole with his Sai.

"Why do you always keep saving my brother? Why you so keen on keeping him safe? Who the hell even are you?" As Raph continued getting closer, reader began zoning out and have and anxiety attack. Until Mikey makes his brother back up and helps reader calm down.

"You okay there?" With a swift nod, Mikey smiled and she gave small one back.

'At least Mikey can get through to her. Better him than any of us three.' Leo thought internally.

"I'm really sorry for our brothers behavior. We don't have a lot of friends so he's really used to being abrasive like he is with us." Reader smiled and took the Sai of her cloak.

"It's alright, I understand. I'm the same way sometimes believe it or not." She said giving Raph his weapon back, receiving a quiet apology in return.

Still silent Leo continued observing her, trying to find any malice that could be hidden. But there wasn't. This girl was genuine with her actions.

"My name is Reader. I save Leo because one I know how much you need him, and two, I recognize a kind spirit when I see one. He's worthy of saving. As are all of you, but you're brother is quiet clumsy."

With embarrassment, Leo tries to ignore the smirks on his brother's faces and talk to the girl who had been saving his life.

"Thank you, I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't wanted to save me. I hope you continue to assist us in the future." With a slight nod she gave Donnie her contact information while continuing to explain.

"I came from Earth, but the Krang took me a long time ago. Experimented on me till I turned eighteen and was sent during the attempted invasion. I'm not helping them or the Foot though, I only pretend so they don't bother me. In turn I sabotage what I can and make sure I don't get caught." Admirable, cool, smart, powerful, kind-hearted. Smitten. Leo's smitten. Does he advance it? No, he'd make Raph leader first. But god, was she attractive on all his boxes.

"Hello? Are you there?" Reader asked concerned, oblivious to what was happening. Leo tried stumbling out an apology till Mikey's laughter interrupted him. Which gained him ten laps for later. "Alright, well I need to get going. Before the Foot Clan gets suspicious and all. Byyyyyyye!!"

Using her powers to fly-jump far away and continue racing through rooftops quickly, Leo just smiled at her using her purple essence to navigate her own way. Hearing a cough he turned to look at his brothers who were smirking in amusement.

"Gimme that contact Donnie. Donnie, Donnie! Give it to me!" He continued to yell chasing after his brother who was laughing(chortling) his ass off. Raph and Mikey followed after them laughing to.

After that, for a while she did keep in touch. Would hang out at night and brought pizza sometimes for them to eat but at one point she just disappeared. Obviously, it didn't make sense. Especially when trying to message her, the phone auto sent with a notice that the phone number was out of service. A couple months passed and the brother's assumed she was sent back to Dimension-X1416.(Get the reference?)

Leo was hit the hardest, especially with little to no fights during the time she was gone. The lair been more quiet and Leo couldn't handle it anymore, so he left the lair for a bit to clear his mind. Receiving looks from his family.

When on top of the Guggenheim Museum watching city lights from afar he sighed out.

"Something on your mind, turtle boy?" That voice. Turning his head in surprise, Reader stood their with an upgraded version of her old battle outfit. It was mixed with casual clothing like purple Jordans and fingerless gloves. Smiling hard Leo got up and raced over to her.

"Holy shit!" he yelled and swooped her into a hug and spun around a bit. With her laughing as well. Setting her down, he got a good look on her. She gained a few new scars but minor ones. One the went over her nose and another up her neck.

"What's with the look?"

"You were gone for months without telling us. What happened?" Shrugging she walked near the edge took a deep breathe. Leo went over to her just enough so people below wouldn't see him.

"Foot Clan moved to Japan to gain equipment for something. Since the fight was moving over, I had to leave. And I wanted to make sure they didn't grow suspicious of me being on the phone constantly, due to a certain cute mutant turtle with a blue bandana was texting me 'Good morning' messages." Getting embarrassed at her rant/scolding/flirty statement, Leo rubbed the back of his neck laughing softly.

"I mean why do you think I saved you? Yeah I wanted to help but, there's are multiple reasons why I mainly saved you compared to your brothers." Again getting more hot under his skin Leo smirked and looked up.

"Glad to know the magical sparks mutual huh?"

"Don't push it."

#bay tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #bayverse tmnt #bayverse tmnt fanfic #tmnt 2016 #tmnt #bayverse turtles #tmnt 2014 #bayverse leo #bayverse leo x reader #tmnt out of the shadows #tmnt oots #tmnt bayverse

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litcityblues · 2 months

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I'm So Annoyed, But Not For The Reason You Think

Look, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: Ahsoka should have been the basis of the sequel trilogy. The whole damn arc from start to finish made for a vastly more compelling story than anything The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, or The Rise of Skywalker managed to put in front of us.

Rogue One and Andor managed to take the original themes of Star Wars (rebellion against tyranny, the costs, etc.) and give them some actual depth about what it means to try and take down a tyrannical government. The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett and now Ahsoka are exploring what I think is a vastly more interesting idea that Star Wars should have centered itself around for the sequel trilogy: now that you've defeated the evil empire, you've got to get into the messy and sometimes boring business of actual governing and how do you do that on a galactic scale? How do you deal with the Imperial Remnants? How do you deal with corruption? How do you, the New Republic, extend your authority and show that you're better than the Empire was?

There are so many story possibilities there and those shows mine that territory and do so effectively-- but what annoys me is that this is such an obvious arc to build into a trilogy of movies and they just... didn't. If the prequels were about the collapse of the old Republic into the Empire and the originals were about the Empire and its defeat the sequels should have been about the New Republic and securing the post-imperial future. That's the perfect arc of a trilogy of trilogies and saves us from such awful writing as, "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

But, Ahsoka:

The series opens with Baylan Skoll (Ray Stevenson), a fallen Dark Jedi, and his apprentice, Shin Hati (Ivanna Sakhno), assaulting a New Republic cruiser to rescue Morgan Elsbeth (Diana Lee Inosanto) who had been previously captured by Ahsoka Tano (Rosario Dawson). Elsbeth informs Skoll that Ahsoka is searching for Grand Admiral Thrawn who has been missing for years- along with her former companion, Ezra Bridger who was dragged to an unknown location by a Purrgil.

(It should be noted at this point that I have not seen any episodes of Rebels, but know enough of the characters to piece together what's going on. It would probably provide more context if you have seen the show, but it's not at all necessary.)

Ahsoka and Huyang (David Tennant) find the Star Map they've been looking for, but it's locked so, on the advice of General Hera Syndulla (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), they head to Lothal to meet with Ahsoka's former Padawan, Sabine Wren (Natasha Liu Bordizzo), who agrees to help them and manages to unlock the map, only to have Hati show up, steal the map and stab her during a lightsaber duel.

Skoll and Hati take the map to the planet Seatos where Elsbeth reveals that Thrawn is trapped in another galaxy. When Ahsoka and company track down the droids that attacked her to Elsbeth's factories on Corellia- they and the New Republic get an unpleasant surprise, as a massive hyperdrive is being built, not for the New Republic but by Imperial Remnants for reasons unknown. They manage to get a tracker on the ship and it's revealed to be the critical parts for Elsbeth's ship, the Eye of Sion, ready to go and find Thrawn and return him to the proper galaxy.

Hera is convinced that allies of Thrawn and imperial remnants are seeking ways to bring him back, the Senators of the New Republic less so, and despite a sympathetic Mon Mothma (Genevieve O'Reilly), they refuse permission to send Republic forces to Seatos. So Ahsoka, Wren, and Huyang go themselves, find the ship, and are close to figuring out just what it's doing when they get shot down and are forced to land on the planet below, where Skoll, Hati, and company come and hunt them down.

What follows is quite literally one of the best lightsaber duels in the history of the franchise. I would put it right up there with 'Duel of the Fates' from The Phantom Menace or even the original confrontation between Obi-Wan and Darth Vader in A New Hope. Ahsoka and Baylan Skoll absolutely go at it and it's awesome. Ahsoka tries to tell Wren to destroy the map, but not wanting to lose her last chance and find Bridger, she hesitates and Ahsoka goes over the cliff, where she spends time In the World Between the Worlds where she meets none other than her old master, Anakin Skywalker. (Hayden Christensen)

Ahsoka makes some peace with her past- but not before Wren, Skoll and Elsbeth activate the Eye of Sion's hyperdrive and head out of the galaxy, just as Hera and a few New Republic forces arrive for a clandestine and unauthorized mission. Ahsoka and company figure out a way to follow Wren to the next galaxy, while it takes a timely intervention from Threepio (Anthony Daniels) to bail out Hera from being in real trouble with the New Republic authorities.

(Seriously: imagine how fucking badass that scene would have been if Leia herself had walked in. This is what I'm saying when I say this story arc should have been the basis for the sequels.)

In the next galaxy, Ahsoka and company find themselves at Peridea, home of the Night Witches of Dathomir and Admiral Thrawn (Lars Mikkelsen) and his fleet. Wren goes out to find Bridger (Eman Esfandi) and Ahsoka and the company eventually reunites with them and has one grand finale. They try and stop Thrawn and Elsbeth-- but the Night Witches of Dathomir reanimate the Night Troopers sent to confront them (zombie Stormtroopers!) and eventually the parties are split once more, with Bridger hitching a ride back to the galaxy with Thrawn before sneaking off his ship and reunited with Hera and Chopper while Ahsoka, Wren, and Huyang are stranded on Peridea.

Overall: I absolutely loved this show. Love the characters, love that you didn't need to have seen The Clone Wars or Rebels to enjoy the shit out of this show. Loved so much new stuff! No Tatooine in sight! Loved the Night Witches! Loved Thrawn and his falling-apart Star Destroyer! Loved that he's loading up what I'm guessing are Palpatine clones-- which retroactively provides a clear, story-driven explanation for "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

This is the Star Wars I should have seen on the biggest screen possible in the theaters. If I'm annoyed, it's because I can see the missed opportunity throughout all eight episodes of this show. That doesn't mean this show isn't awesome though. It is. Give me more, please. My Grade: **** out of ****

#ahsoka #star wars #streaming show #streaming review

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mangocustard16 · 7 months

Text

Scholarly Sparks✨Part2

boo seungkwan x reader

| synopsis: Seungkwan and Y/N have always been known for their intense rivalry in academia. They clashed in class discussions, exchanged heated arguments, and even took pleasure in getting under each other's skin. Little did they know that this passionate competition would eventually lead to something more profound.

| genre: angst, fluff

| pairing: academic rival!seungkwan x gn!reader

| warnings: none

| w.c: 740

In the ongoing saga of their academic rivalry, Seungkwan and Y/N stumbled upon a new twist that would test the boundaries of their relationship. It began with the discovery that Seungkwan's meticulously crafted lecture notes had mysteriously vanished.

Seungkwan had always been known for his thorough and well-organized notes. They were his secret weapon in their academic battles, and he guarded them with utmost care. However, one fateful day, as he reached for his prized notes, he found his notebook missing from his bag.

Seungkwan's frustration boiled over as he searched frantically for the missing notebook, his mind racing with possible suspects. He scoured his bag, his room, and the lecture hall, but they were nowhere to be found.

As the days passed, anxiety gnawed at him. His upcoming test depended on those notes, and his reputation as an academic rival was on the line. He began to lose sleep, haunted by the possibility of flunking the test.

One afternoon, in a desperate last-minute attempt to salvage his grade, Seungkwan went through Y/N's bag, his frustration reaching its peak. He couldn't believe his eyes when he found his missing notes among her belongings.

"Y/N, care to explain why my missing notes were in your bag?", said Seungkwan holding up the notes, his voice trembling.

"What? How did they get there? I swear I didn't take them.", Y/N tried to defend.

Seungkwan felt betrayed, believing that Y/N had stolen his notes to gain an unfair advantage. His anger flared, and he accused her of being pretentious, using deception to maintain her status as his academic rival.

"You've always pretended to be on the same level as me, but resorting to theft? Pathetic!", spat Seungkwan.

"Seungkwan, I promise I didn't take your notes. You have to believe me.", said Y/N tears welling up in her eyes.

The exams were right around the corner and Seungkwan felt as if he had lost his marbles. Losing his notes had stopped him from studying earlier. So, here he was alone in the lecture hall trying to focus with all his might when he overhears a conversation between Lee Ha Joon and Han Jin Soo.

"Haha, can you believe how easy it was to steal Seungkwan's notebook? He's going to flunk the test, and everyone will think Y/N did it!", said Ha Joon.

"That's a wicked plan, man. Y/N won't stand a chance when they find that notebook in her bag.", said Jin Soo grabbing a chair.

"You two think you can get away with this?!", Seungkwan shouted.

"Seungkwan? What are you talking about?" said Ha Joon trying to feign innocence.

"I heard everything! You stole my notebook to frame Y/N, didn't you?", said Seungkwan his voice trembling with fury.

His anger erupted into a physical confrontation as Seungkwan confronted Lee Ha Joon, landing a solid punch in his direction. The campus security was alerted to the commotion, and they swiftly intervened to separate the two.

Seungkwan's fury had been unleashed, but as he was restrained by the security personnel, he couldn't help but reflect on his earlier accusations against Y/N. The weight of his wrongful accusations hung heavily on his conscience, and he knew he had a lot to make up for.

His determination to clear Y/N's name and make amends for his hasty judgments drove him forward. He had learned a valuable lesson about trust and the consequences of jumping to conclusions, and he was determined to make things right, not just with Y/N but also within himself.

So, here he was at Y/N's doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers, a sincere apology in his eyes.

"Apology accepted, Seungkwan.", said Y/N in a teasing tone.

Their eyes locked, and a brief moment of understanding passed between them. It was as if the weight of their previous misunderstandings had lifted, leaving room for a new connection to blossom.

"How about we put all this behind us and celebrate our newfound friendship?", Seungkwan suggested.

"Friendship? Are you sure you can handle that, Seungkwan?", said Y/N wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

"I'm willing to give it a try."

"In that case, how about some ice cream? My treat.", said Y/N smiling warmly.

"Ice cream sounds perfect.", whispered Seungkwan.

They headed to a nearby ice cream parlor, their laughter and easy banter filling the air. As they savored their favorite flavors, their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they had been friends for years.

As they sat on a bench outside the ice cream parlor, a gentle breeze ruffled Y/N's hair, causing a strand to fall across her face. Seungkwan reached over and gently brushed it away, his fingers grazing her cheek. It was a simple gesture, but Y/N couldn't stop the rush of butterflies in her stomach as she muttered a thank you.

Their eyes locked again, this time with a new warmth and understanding. It was a moment that seemed to linger, as if time itself had slowed down just for them. In that moment, they both realized that their rivalry had transformed into something more profound, something that had the potential to go beyond friendship.

As they continued to enjoy their ice cream and each other's company, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on their faces. The path they were on had taken an unexpected turn, but neither of them was complaining. They were both excited to explore this new chapter in their relationship, one that held the promise of something deeper and more meaningful than they could have ever imagined.

<Part1>

so what do y'all think?

@minhui896

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

year one - n. de vries

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: nyck de vries x reader

warnings: anxious thoughts + some fluff

a/n: there’s not a lot of nyck content on here ☹️ but happy race week everyone 😁😁 I’m excited for nyck and alphatauri!

he feels right at home at Bahrain, he’s said. the pace, speed, and car of formula 1 was a little different to his previous seasons, but he couldn’t have been more prepared to help lead alphatauri to points.

he’s comfortable with the speed of the kart, in fact, it’s an adrenaline rush every time he gets out there. he’s proud of himself for coming this far, but he’s nervous for Sunday, he has to prove that he was the right choice.

you were at the paddock in the alphatauri garage ever since landing last week. he wanted you there to watch him and yuki’s preseason test laps, and even watch his training. you found yourself in the way most of the time, but alphatauri’s chief, Franz Tost, found himself handing you a headset to make yourself useful.

“alright nyck, you’re p17. nice job for the day.” his car pulled into the box and you watched him exit the car making his way around the team who told him some encouraging words. it wasn’t easy being a rookie in f1, you had to do well at surviving to secure your seat for the future. you could tell nyck wasn’t performing his best today due to that overwhelming doom hanging over his head.

“well what did you think?” he stopped in front of you, scanning your eyes for any confirmation that you agreed with what the team said. he didn’t like his performance all that well, and he knew by the look in your eyes you were on the same page as him. you’d seen him enough times to know this wasn’t his best preseason performance.

“why does it matter what I think? you should listen to your team.” you nodded in their direction noting they had pulled yuki to talk logistics of the upcoming race, and were searching for your boyfriend. you had been with nyck for far long enough to know why it mattered, he trusted your words better than anyone else, but formula 1 was not about what the significant others thought, it was about what the Franz Tost thought.

“it matters to me what you think, you’ve been with me long enough.” he sighs turning in the direction of Franz who was motioning for him to join the meeting, “look I’ll be back, start thinking of things I can work on.”

—

finally after a long day out in the sun, you could relax in your hotel room. you had a separate room from nyck so he could stay focused, but it didn’t stop him from stealing your extra room key to sneak in and sleep in your room. he needed your comfort during these past couple of days, he could hardly sleep he was full anxiety and excitement.

you heard the sound of the door click open and gently shut, he shrugged off his coat and removed his shoes before jumping onto the bed and get under the covers with you. he moved closer to your body, resting his head on your shoulder letting out a happy sigh that the day was finally over.

“do you think I’m ready?” his tone was unfamiliar to him as the words exited his mouth. he was just days away from making his first year debut as a formula 1 driver, and the nerves were getting the best of him. no matter how many times he’s raced, this was the moment he’s been waiting for.

you frowned, you knew he had been doubting himself and his abilities, but it was just the start, “baby, of course I do.”

“it wasn’t my best performance today.” he recalls hearing his position over the headset. he didn’t like hearing the double digit number because he knew his lap time was shit, and he could’ve performed better.

“no, you’re right it wasn’t, but take today and learn from it. you’ll be better the next time.” your lips pressed against his head watching his body sink into the bed closer to you, his head resting on your chest now.

“I love you, nyck. don’t get so discouraged you’re going to do great things with alphatauri and yuki.” you tried your best to get his eyes to connect with yours, but they were glued to the television as he chewed the inside of his cheek. you knew he was ignoring you because he either A. wanted to drop the conversation or B. was getting irritated at the f1 talk.

“how was dinner with the team?” you moved on watching him shift upwards to look at you now, a smile on his face while he talked about getting to know yuki and the engineers, he was happy.

“they asked about you, you know? they wondered why you weren’t at dinner.” if he wasn’t talking about driving, there was a good chance he was talking about you, and when one of the engineers asked about your absence, he was quick to make conversation about you.

“I needed a break from car talk, it can get boring sometimes.” you chuckled watching him roll his eyes at your response.

“you love it and I know it.” he says with a cheeky smile on his face laughing. your second date was him giving you a tour of the garage, he knew you were the one for him when you didn’t yawn or get bored, instead you asked questions and began engaging in conversation with the team. now, he considered you the most educated of the two.

you shook your head, “I like talking about your driving not about tires.”

“weren’t you the one yelling at me to head to the box for new tires? you know I recognize your voice over radio.” he mocks your voice yelling at him to head to the box over the radio, it made him smile hearing your voice, but he loved hearing everyone laugh at how angry you got when he ignored your request.

“without me in your ear, you’ll be just fine on Sunday.”

#nyck de vries #nyck de vries imagine #nyck de vries x reader #nyck de vries drabble #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #alpha tauri #alphatauri #f1 #formula one

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tittyinfinity · 1 month

Text

Yes, it is going to be hard whenever capitalism comes to an end.

But the reality is that it's already collapsing in on itself and will only get worse from here on out.

Whenever people say they're done with the US government, it's not because they don't care about how people will be negatively affected – it's because it will be so much harder to fight later on down the line.

Capitalists have already been working together to make sure everyone is broke and exhausted. A good portion of our life is controlled by the corporate world & land-owners. Our bosses, landlords, and cops can control just about anything we do. Our phones spy on us and can send our info to the cops.

Capitalism is enforced through violence. There is public information about politicians taking money from corporations like health insurance & oil companies. There's public information about the US committing coups in communist and socialist countries to install fascist leaders. It has come out several times that our military is used to secure oil and other resources through terrorism. It's well-known that prisons are used to draft as many people for slave labor as they can. These companies that both pay off and install politicians to enforce policies that make them richer rely on this violence for their profit.

No capitalist candidate will never have your best interest at heart. Anyone willing to sacrifice lives for the sake of money will sacrifice your life the moment it's most convenient – all while saying that they're Helping The Country Get Better, Actually. And if our main goal is "less people dying," thinking short-term is not gonna save us. Especially when so many are already dying right now. Today.

If you're scared about the bad things that will happen when capitalism falls.....how do you think the people suffering & dying under the current system feel?

The people who have lost their homes and families? The people forced into slavery? Indigenous people who continue to lose more and more land?

All for the gas in your car, the lithium in your batteries, the land you live on, the job you work, and hell, most of the products we use.

You're worried about what might happen.... it's already happening, just not to you. And relying on the government to save you from the government isn't realistic.

Either you want imperialism, colonization, and genocide to end, or you don't. Stand up and fight while you have the chance.

Get your friends and neighbors together for direct action groups. Print out posters and put them all over the town. Don't just join protests, START them. Strike. Join the IWW. Get your coworkers together to start a union. Tell your boss to pay you more or you're all walking out. Stealing shit isn't even stealing shit – corporations & capitalists are already stealing tax money & the money produced by the labor of their workers. They take and take while they give us crumbs. We don't have to put up with this shit

#joe biden #donald trump #byeden #.bdo

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deathofpeaceofmiiind · 4 months

Text

high infidelity | seven

My baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new *Ellie’s POV* I woke up in a panic, forgetting where I was. I felt clammy and delirious. My hair was knotted and my face felt greasy since I forgot to take off my make up last night. My eyes wondered over to the tattooed arm that was beside me and relief washed over me, it was Noah. “Good morning.” He says putting his phone down and kissing my forehead. Suddenly my hangover hit me and my head felt like it split in two. “Morning.” I mumbled. “I feel awful.” “Tequila?” He asks as he scrunches his face up. I just nod, even the word tequila made me want to gag. “Well I hate to make you feel worse but I got us flights back to up to Vancouver, we leave in three hours.” “Oh god.” I moaned and I buried my head back into my pillow. He laughs and walks over to the bathroom. I hear the shower running and he comes back over to me with Advil and a bottle of water.

“I’ll order us some breakfast.” He smirks, I could tell he was trying not to laugh more at the state I was in. “Go shower, it’ll wake you up.” I wanted to protest, but a shower felt like a great idea. I grabbed my stuff and headed into the bathroom. After my shower I threw on my hoodie from last night with leggings and put my hair up in a claw clip with minimal make up to make myself at least look human. I came out of the bathroom and our breakfast was already waiting for us. We had coffees with pancakes and bacon, my favourite which also seemed to be Noah’s. After we were done eating we ordered an Uber and made our way to the airport. *Noah’s POV* I had to admit Ellie was handling her hangover better than I could’ve. I held her hand the entire ride to the airport and kept stealing glances at her. I couldn’t help myself. I’m still trying to figure out how I landed myself in such a lucky situation. Nick texted me to say they were just leaving Seattle and it felt weird I wasn’t there with them. He was right, this was definitely a different routine but if it meant having Ellie with me I was more than happy to switch it up. Once we got to the airport we checked in, made our way through security and found the first Starbucks we could find. “I’ll have a grande nitro brew and …” “A venti iced matcha with oat milk.” Ellie chimed in. “God, you’re so basic.” I laughed as I gave the cashier my credit card. I looked over at Ellie and she told me to go fuck myself, which made me laugh more. We couldn’t stop making each other laugh and we were acting like this wasn’t our first time flying together. Ellie was just so incredible and she was easily one of the funniest people I’ve met without even trying. I felt like my heart was going to explode.

“This is a very strange first date.” she chuckled as we got on the plane. “I know.” I replied as I reached over and helped her with her belt, not breaking my stare from her. “except you can’t go anywhere.” “Noah Sebastian, is that a threat?” She smirks. “Could be.” I replied with a deep tone. She put her hand on my lap and I could feel myself getting hard, which wasn’t ideal. I always used to rush into things and with Ellie I wanted to slow down and establish something cause this was so delicate. I was ready whenever she was. “I was thinking about starting Demon Slayer again, do you wanna watch it?” I said, distracting myself from feeling like a horny teenager. Ellie just nodded and I pulled my iPad and AirPods out of my bag. I passed her an AirPod and she rested her head on my shoulder and I pressed play, mind you I was too focused on her thumb rubbing circles on my thigh. “You’re not gonna know the plot looking down there.” She chuckles as she looks up at me. My face got hot and drew my eyes back to my iPad. She was driving me absolutely crazy. The flight was only an hour so we got to Vancouver before we knew it. We were waiting at baggage claim for my suitcase, which I realized was a stupid idea for only being gone for two days. Ellie was making a joke about me being high maintenance but her phone interrupted her. She stopped dead in her tracks and her face went white. Tyler was calling her and I instantly saw red. “Hello…why do you think I’m divorcing you…I’ve known for a month…no I’m done Tyler…where was this effort when I raised our son on my own while you were out with her…call my lawyer to figure out a date…I’m not sorry…I’m done…yes I’m in town still…no I’m staying at a hotel right now…whatever.” She hung up the phone and was a lot more calm than I would’ve been. I pulled her into my chest and felt her take a huge breath. At least I knew she was safe with me and nothing would hurt her.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfic

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astratheodora · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Rating: Mature (mentions of explicit ideas but no smut yet)

Description: You were lucky enough to land safe and simple job until Captain Price offers you a position as a sniper on his team.

A/N: This is a somewhat shameless self-insert. I am so mf thirsty for this man it is insane.

Yes, Sir - Part 1

You were lucky enough to have connections that landed yourself a decent job. Held up in one of the most secure but bleakest buildings you've even been in. Like any other job, it had its pros and cons. The work was easy, mostly giving a hand for the behind the scenes work of the medical wing. It felt like an internship, making notes for the doctor and inputting them into the team's medical files. Bland and boring, but the kind that you needed from the crazy world outside the compound.

You worked there long enough for people to know my face but you hadn’t grown close to many of them since they were either in training, in a debrief, or out on mission. There was one guy who helped lighten up the days and play around with you, he told you to call him “Soap”. You thought it was a dorky name but it suited his personality. He was the closest thing you had to call a “friend” around the compound. Not that anyone was outwardly cold or mean, there wasn’t much time to make “friends” around here.

Soap always made sure to stop and say hi to you anytime he passed through the medical wing. It was always brief, a few minutes, but it made your day when he did. You could always tell how a mission went by the energy he came back with.

Sitting in your office, you stared blankly at the keyboard. You had finished up all your work for the day early and was left with dropping off some folders to Captain Price. They arrived back a few hours ago, probably headed off to the bar on the far side of the campus. You tossed the idea of joining them tonight, you haven't made it over there yet. They were already close, you knew it would feel weird to be the only “stranger” in the room. It was getting lonely going between your office, the cafeteria, and your dorm.

Your boots tapped softly on the tile floors as you made your way to Price’s office lost in your thoughts. The door was shut and you heard low voices talking casually behind it. you hesitated to knock, not wanting to interrupt but raised your hand anyways. Soft knuckles knocked against the hard wooden door.

“Come on in.” You heard Price call.

Your jaw untensed, oh good. Still hesitant, you entered his office slowly. “Hey, I know it’s a bit early but it’s mail time.” Looking up from the file in your arms you meet a set of eyes you weren't expecting. You remember him going by, “Ghost”. You hadn’t spoken more than a few words to him, you weren't sure if he didn’t like you or if he didn’t speak much at all. It was rare that the two of you crossed paths. Soap had joked about how he never takes off his mask around people but when did you ever see most of them out of their gear?

Ghost’s eyes steal the words right out of your mouth. They were fierce, the harsh black paint on his face making his eyes the center of attention. You wanted to look anywhere else but it was like a magnet pulling you back. “Uh-sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You’re not.” Ghost still held your sight, his voice more gruff than you expected. He stood signaling his exit. His height towered over you and his broad build swallowed the small space between yourself and the doorway. You were already tall and you still had to look up at him. You couldn't look away. “Excuse me, sweetheart."

You were so entranced in his presence you didn’t realize you were literally blocking him inside. Though you know he could’ve easily moved you to the side if he wanted to. Your cheeks felt hot and you silently stepped to the side, trying to keep your eyes on the files in your arms as Ghost left the room.

“Are you finally going to join us for a night of celebration?” Price asked, breaking the hard silence.

“I thought about it, Soap had invited me again.” Like he does every time he goes. His energy after coming back was immaculate, they really had kicked ass out there. “I was going to head back to my room and see how I feel.”

Price eyed you, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something while you have time."

"Sure, what's going on?"

"I want you to start doing some training with my team, I was just speaking with the Lieutenant and we both agree you'd be a great gunsman with the proper training."

"I'm not really made for combat." You interrupted Price laying out his offer. "I rarely leave the compound, and you know that!"

"You've got a steady hand and a good aim, I think this would be an amazing fit for you. You would never be close enough to ever be in danger." Price continued, already set on his path.

You looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath, "I'm basically an intern to the doctor, I take notes and copy papers and do data entry, not in any way like a sniper Price!"

"I'm not sending you out for your death. You would get proper training and you wouldn't go alone." There was no changing his mind now, he had already set a plan. You were to meet with Ghost tomorrow afternoon. "You'll train with the normal recruits in the morning and then meet with your Lieutenant in the afternoon. You should really come down to the bar later and get acquainted with the rest of your team."

That last part sounded more like a command than a suggestion.

***

After an hour of pacing in your room, the longest shower you could manage until your skin turned pink, and one attempt at a shot of tequila… You decided to join them, trying to keep an optimistic view of the night ahead. There was no point in dressing up for any occasion so you stuck to a comfortable black turtleneck and your favorite pair of black high waisted skinny jeans, all tied together with the signature black boots. You thought about how cliche it seemed to be decked out in black head to toe but it helped you blend in with Soap and plus, black goes with everything right? A quick spray of perfume, a check in the mirror, and you were out the door.

Soap sat with a few of the guys at a table playing a card game, they were all clearly a few drinks in when you approached. Soap saw me and excitedly yelled, “ah you made it!” He leaped from his chair, dragging you over to the table. Price, Gaz, Soap, and you didn’t expect Ghost. Soap squeezed you between himself and Gaz. You weren't one for card games but it would be fun to indulge in a few drinks with your team and shut out the anxious thoughts about tomorrow.

"So, what would you like to drink?" Soap asked, You could feel he was so excited you had finally come out after he invited you time after time.

"Well… I guess you could mix a shot of Crown with some Sprite?" You asked shyly.

"A whiskey girl!" Soap cheered, "L.T. over there is like a whiskey connoisseur."

The initial awkwardness had faded and with a drink in your hand, you felt more like one of the group. The first sip burned in your stomach, the first of many.

"So what are you playing?" You asked as you continued to sip on your drink.

"Uno."

Quietly kicking yourself for not joining them sooner. Smiling and laughing so much it started to hurt. It was nice to sit back, drink, and not have to think of a damn thing. Your eyes drifted across the table to Ghost, it felt like he had been staring holes into you the entire night. Anytime you glanced in his direction it was like he knew and caught your gaze. This time you held it. The alcohol finally making your thoughts swim. You could see why they called it "liquid courage". It didn't stop the butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach the longer Ghost just… stared. Your eyes wandered along his body, this was the first time you had seen him dress casually. He wore a black hoodie that hugged his shoulders and chest the right way, his hood up making him a silhouette. You hoped he couldn't read your mind but he could read your eyes, he saw you scanning his upper body in your buzzed state. There was no question to the perverted thoughts that ran rampant in your head. You know Ghost could destroy you and you'd be saying 'thank you'.

You held Ghost' gaze for a few more seconds until Soap handed you a second drink. The thought of Ghost holding you down with his thick strong arms making you want to burst at the seams. He knows. You know he knows because you can see his eyes slightly crease as he smirks underneath his cover. If anyone at the table were truly sober, the tension in the room would set it ablaze. You do your best to tear your eyes away from Ghost and back to the game that had been long forgotten on the table. Cheeks burning from the alcohol and embarrassed at being caught.

Soap had clearly pushed himself past his limit and was trying to convince Price to give him his cards. Price only shook his head and laughed, dismissing himself from the table. "Gaz, I need you to take this ass up to his room. He's cut off for the night and I've had enough. Congratulations on another success. Goodluck tomorrow Mirage. Goodnight everyone." Gaz gathered up Soap without a word and led his mess out the door, leaving you and Ghost at the table with the remnants of the game they were playing. You went to take another sip of your drink only to realize it was empty. Your bottom lip pouted slightly. The only liquid in the glass was melted ice mixed with flat soda at this point.

Ghost broke the silence. "Another round?" Getting up from the table and walking toward the bar. You followed and took a seat on a barstool, watching him again. His back was to you as he lifted his mask and took a shot.

"Encouraging bad behavior lieutenant?" You teased him. He was already making me another drink before you could say yes.

"First time I've seen you down here." Ghost quickly changed the subject back to you. He handed me a fresh glass.

One more couldn't hurt. You took a bigger sip than you cared to and winced at the harsh taste as it burned all the way down your throat. You tried to hold back the cough and disgust, knowing Ghost was watching. "Yea.. I don't know… I thought tonight I'd make a change for once. It felt like being back home for a minute. Soap is always kind to me and he's been begging me to come down." You paused to take another drink, alcohol tended to make you more talkative. "Then Price said I should, especially since I'll be working with you tomorrow." A bashful feeling washed over you, how long had you been talking now? You quickly turned your attention away from Ghost and back to the mess everyone had left at the table. You cleared your throat, "do they always leave it like that?" If you kept yourself busy and not looking at him then your mind wouldn't wander.

You slipped off the bar stool and started scooping up the scattered cards. Feeling his eyes watching your every move. There's no way he couldn't sense your nervousness. Who could blame you? You were hitting the peak of your buzz, borderline drunk. In a new place and now left alone with an almost stranger… very tall… built…

You shake the thoughts and squeeze your eyes shut, breath caught in your throat and the deck of cards digging into your palms.

Jesus fucking Christ, get ahold of yourself already, it's just the alcohol.

In the process of trying to set the cards back on the table, you knocked one of Soap's many empty beer bottles onto the floor.

It shattered.

"Fuck." You muttered. Without thinking You tucked the hair that hung in your face behind your ears and squatted down, reaching for a large piece of the now broken bottle.

A firm, gloved hand, swiftly grabbed your wrist.

Ghost now kneeled in front of me, his face a few inches from yours. You've never been this close. You swear he could hear your heart beating. He appeared out of nowhere, it was clear why his name was Ghost.

"You shouldn't pick up glass with your bare hands," Ghost said quietly. You opened your mouth to protest but he stopped you. Never breaking from your gaze. "Grab the broom from behind the door over there, I'll take care of this."

Your mind was blank, distracted with his firm grip on you. He's strong, that was obvious, to feel it on your body was something else. Those hands of his would fit so nicely in your hair, on your neck, gripping your thighs. "Huh?"

You swear you saw him smile behind his mask. "Grab the broom for me."

"Yes, sir," you replied softly, your throat dry.

That's exactly what he wanted to hear.

141 notes · View notes

dindjarindiaries · 1 year

Text

Security - Chapter 51: The Quest

summary: The Djarin family begins their adventure to Mandalore with guidance and a visit to an old friend.

warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, trauma, fluff

rating: T

word count: 4.795k

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chapter 51: the quest

Astra tightens her grasp on Zora, clutching the giggling child to her chest. “You said this was going to be a calm and quick trip!”

Din’s response comes through a focused breath. “That was before I knew they’d draw the attention of a giant sea creature.” His helmet turns over his armored shoulder as he tries to steal a look at Astra and Zora. “Hang on back there.”

Astra’s too busy securing Zora in place to respond or to observe what else is outside the transparisteel that surrounds her. Zora’s nearly one-year-old curiosity has started to get the best of her, but with her father currently flipping the ship over and preparing to fire, exploration isn’t exactly ideal. At least Din has Grogu, Astra reminds herself with a soft sigh.

Din flips the ship again and Zora lets out a hearty laugh, the kind that brings a smile to Astra’s face no matter how hard she tries to resist it. “Is she laughing?” Din questions, his own smile evident in his tone.

“Are you surprised?” Astra retorts. She earns a soft chuckle through the intercom, along with an excited squeal from the other Djarin child. The sound only makes Zora laugh louder. “All right, angel.” Astra presses a kiss upon the curly hair of Zora’s head. “We have to hush. K’uur.”

Zora obeys, though her curious brown eyes still widen at their surroundings. Her little fingers tighten around Astra’s own as she joins her daughter in observing the atmosphere they’ve flown into. There’s a sandy shore that’s full of helmeted Mandalorians, a sight that would’ve made her heart fall even if the giant sea creature hadn’t been there. Astra can see children lingering behind the front line of forces and her chest inflames with panic on their behalf. She holds Zora closer.

The shot Din takes is calculated and simple, hitting its target with no mercy yet no harm done to those who watch. With the first obstacle cleared, Astra holds her breath and continues to look out at the group of stunned Mandalorians. They would become the very next obstacle, and given Din’s supposed crime, she isn’t sure which one would be more hostile.

Din lands the starfighter with ease on an empty spot along the shore. He slides open the transparisteel above their heads, earning a curious coo from Zora, and looks out at the group he used to call his tribe. Astra hasn’t seen so many of them since the day she entered their covert on Nevarro. She wonders if any of those Mandalorians are still here.

“Din Djarin.” The Armorer’s voice is calm, steady. Astra has no doubt that the favor Din just did for the tribe is the cause for her civility.

“We wish to speak with you,” Din responds. His tone is just as composed and formal as the Armorer’s. When the Armorer remains silent, Din goes on. “We won’t be long.”

The Armorer takes a visible breath while Astra holds her own. To not be directly by Din’s side in the waiting is almost torturous; the tension that oozes from his beskar is palpable. When her golden helmet offers a firm nod, the air becomes lighter and cooler, and Din returns the gesture with a confident straightening of his armored shoulders. The Armorer begins to walk off while the other Mandalorians disperse and recover from the fight.

Astra’s become no better at trying to get out of the starfighter while balancing Zora on her hip. She quickly outgrew her beskar-fused sling, which Din then made into clothing for her—though its absence is now strongly felt in struggles such as this.

“I’ve got her,” Din says in a soft voice from alongside the ship. Astra hands Zora off to him and hears her loud screech of delight. Din chuckles and lets Zora clutch his bandolier. “Hello to you too, baby girl.”

Din keeps a gloved hand extended to help Astra down, making her chest warm almost as much as her face does at their audience. She presses a hand upon his cuirass and pushes herself up to kiss his beskar cheek. “Ready?”

Din nods, steadying Zora on his hip as Grogu stands alongside Astra’s leg. Astra smiles at their son and invites him to continue walking alongside her. As they start to follow the Armorer’s path, Astra watches Zora tug at Din’s bandolier and point at the ground. He pauses to set her down at his side and keep one of her hands tight in his grasp. Astra grins when they continue to walk together, Din matching Zora’s slow pace as she wobbles through the sand. Grogu giggles at Astra’s side, though she notices that he also prepares his tiny hands to catch her should she fall.

Despite the lack of visible gazes surrounding them, Astra can sense each and every eye on their family. She’s not afraid to return their glances with her jaw set. Astra’s determined to hold her tongue for Din’s sake, but she’s got her defense ready should someone try to challenge them. Din once told her she has the heart of a Mandalorian, and despite her lack of armor, she’d be more than willing to show those gathered here exactly what hides beneath the surface.

The silence becomes too much for some. The whispers make their way to Astra once they’re just a few more meters away from the entrance to the cave the Armorer had disappeared inside of. “Of course the apostate would wed an outsider,” one of them says, tilting their helmet at the Mandalorian who stands beside them.

Astra turns towards them with a furrow etched deep between her brows, but Din steps up and speaks before she can. “Direct your anger towards me,” he warns in a low tone, “not my riduur.” He gives his helmet a menacing tilt. “This is your only warning.”

The two Mandalorians straighten at his words. Astra shares a look with Din, who sets a gloved hand upon her back to urge her forward again. Zora and Grogu waddle alongside them as they close the distance to the cave. Din’s hand runs from Astra’s back to her hand, giving it a squeeze in both silent apology and comfort. She returns the gesture.

They round the corner and see the Armorer standing within her forgery, her back turned towards them. There’s a Mythosaur hanging on the wall just as there used to be on Nevarro, along with all the same equipment and tools Astra remembers seeing in the tunnels. Din stops in his tracks and Astra and Grogu follow, but Zora tries to walk forward more. When she starts to fuss, Din scoops her up from the ground and keeps her set on his hip, a position that temporarily satisfies her.

“You have removed your helmet.” The Armorer’s voice startles Astra amidst the heavy silence. The Mandalorian leader’s back still faces them as she addresses Din. “What’s worse, you did so of your own free will.” She turns and lets her visor stare Din down. “You are no longer Mandalorian.”

Just like Glavis, Astra wants to speak in defense of her husband, but she knows now that it’s not her place to do so. Even Grogu chirps something from where he stands in between his parents. Din takes Astra’s hand again with the arm not holding Zora before he responds. “The Creed teaches us of redemption.”

The Armorer moves closer to the forge that stands between them. “Redemption is no longer possible since the destruction of our homeworld.”

An impossible quest. Astra has to strain herself to hold back a scoff. Her and Din share a look as he drops her hand to reach towards his belt. “But what if the mines of Mandalore still exist?”

The Armorer doesn’t look their way. She responds in a dubious tone. “All was destroyed in the Purge.”

Din retrieves the artifact from the pouch on his belt. “Is this inscription not Mandalorian?”

The Armorer’s helmet snaps towards Din. Zora tries to reach for the green crystal, but Din holds it out of her grasp and sets it down on the small table in front of him. She starts to whine, but a soft “shhh” from Din gets her to quiet down quickly. Astra watches Grogu make his way to the side of the table and pull himself up alongside it. She tries to take Zora from Din so he can sit, but their daughter lets out an immediate cry at the mere idea of separating from her father.

“It’s all right,” Din assures Astra in a hushed voice. He sits and keeps Zora on his lap, causing the Armorer to tilt her head at the two of them as she makes her way over.

“Where did you come upon this?” The Armorer’s visor never leaves the relic as she sits across from Din. Astra crosses her arms over her chest, hoping to deflate some of the unease that sticks like sap within it.

“Jawas.” Din glances up at Astra, the look alone easing some of the tension from her. She recalls getting the comm from Peli that one of her Jawas had found something Din would take interest in back on Tatooine. Mos Eisley was thankfully a rather quick trip from Mos Espa. “They came upon it by trade from a traveler who claimed to have visited the surface of Mandalore.”

The Armorer remains silent as she picks up the relic. Its green crystalline surface shines even in the darkness of the cave, the Mando’a inscriptions standing out amidst the rough texture of the trapped rock. “Then this relic only proves that Mandalore’s entire surface has been crystallized by fusion rays.”

Din’s helmet lowers and Astra watches as Zora leans her head against his armored shoulder. He lets her wrap her fingers around one of his as he goes on. “But a traveler was able to retrieve this, so perhaps it is not poisoned.”

Grogu looks between Din and the Armorer in an effort to remain engaged. Astra smiles and shifts her weight, thankful for his light amidst the darkness she’s brought upon herself.

“If I visit the planet,” Din continues, “and I can bring you proof that I have bathed in the Living Waters beneath the mines of Mandalore, then by Creed, the decree of exile will be lifted and I would be redeemed.”

The Armorer takes a long pause, looking over at Grogu when he coos in her direction. Astra forces herself to take a deep breath. She notices Zora’s half asleep on her father’s lap, meaning that at least one out of the two parents are at ease. When the Armorer looks at Din once again and speaks, Astra can hear a smile in her tone. “This is the Way.”

A strange weight lifts off Astra’s shoulders upon hearing the Armorer speak. It’s as if she wants Din to earn this redemption just as badly as he does, despite being the one to enforce it. Though it’s a harsh punishment, Astra begins to wonder if it was harder for the Armorer to follow through with than she initially thought.

Din takes a deep breath of his own relief as the Armorer stands and walks away. Grogu looks at Din and Astra with excitement, though his ears lower upon him observing his mother. Astra tries her best to ease her nerves for Grogu’s sake. She bends down to pick him up while Din stands and keeps their sleeping daughter tucked in his arms. “Then we will see you again.”

The Armorer remains where she is at the work station across the cave. Astra prepares to leave, but stops herself when Din speaks again.

“But… there’s one more thing before we go.” The Armorer turns around as Din glances at Astra. She hears the leather pull tighter on his gloved hands. “The others referred to ner riduur as an ‘outsider.’” Din struggles to say the words in a calm manner. “They’ve disrespected her, although she’s done nothing wrong.”

“Pay them no mind.” The Armorer nods at them. “They long for something they do not have.” Her golden helmet focuses on Astra. “You were trusted and promised security for a reason.”

Astra draws herself close enough to Din’s side for her arm to brush against his. She beams at the Armorer and returns her nod. “This is the Way,” she dares to say.

The Armorer gives her helmet a fond tilt. “This is the Way.”

Din lifts a hand from Zora to set it upon Astra’s back. He guides their family out of the cave and back towards the ship. Astra’s relieved to see that most of the Mandalorians have dispersed, either caring for the wounded or cleaning up the creature’s mess. She grimaces when she spots Paz Vizsla among them, memories of the cruel way he fought Din tearing across her mind like the new vibroblade at her hip.

Once they reach the starfighter, Din stops and leans up to set the sleeping Zora in Astra’s usual seat. He reaches to take Grogu from Astra and places him beside his sister. Din then walks the two of them around the ship, giving them at least some type of privacy as he holds her chin with one of his gloved hands. His visor searches her gaze and he doesn’t have to say a word. Neither does she.

“Nevarro is next,” Din assures her, his voice soft. “We’ll ask Greef if we can stay there for a night. I know the starfighter isn’t a proper place for rest.”

Astra offers a smile. “It’s all right, Din.” She huffs and avoids his visor as she goes on. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m as strong as I used to be.”

“Don’t say that.” Din holds her face with both his hands, urging her to look at him again. “Don’t ever say that, Astra. The fact that you’re still here, amidst my demanding adventures…” Din gives his helmet a shake, “that alone is a testament to your profound strength.”

Astra’s smile returns. She holds his wrists with her hands and gives them a gentle squeeze. “If I’m being honest, though, I’m not really talking about rest.”

Din runs his thumbs over her cheeks. “I know.” He leans forehead to rest his helmet against her head.

Neither one of them has to say anything more. It’s the cycle that’s repeated itself ever since Din was exiled from his tribe. Din assures Astra it’s not her fault, she starts to believe him, and then something happens that makes the wave of guilt swallow her whole once again. For that reason, Astra wants Din to earn his redemption just as badly as he does. Still, Astra makes herself speak the thought that won’t leave her mind. “You love being a Mandalorian.”

“I love my family more.” Din runs his fingers along her face before he forces himself to step away. “Now, the quicker we leave, the quicker we can get to Nevarro.”

Astra nods, letting Din help her up into her seat. She holds on to the kids, who are both now asleep, while Din gets himself settled. This time, he takes Zora, and Astra holds on to Grogu. She smiles as she watches his upper lip curl in gentle snores while the blue skies and shores are replaced with distant stars and the flickering blue lights of hyperspace.

“Cyar’ika?” Din’s voice suddenly comes from the intercom.

Astra lifts her brow. “Yes?”

Din pauses before he speaks with the most meaning he can muster. “I love you.”

Astra grins and runs her hand over Grogu’s furry head. “I love you, too.”

Din’s shoulders start to slump in a sleepy posture, and Astra finds herself doing the same. Though the space is much more cramped than the Razor Crest used to be, Astra’s become used to it, and the smooth ride of the starfighter through hyperspace soon lulls her into a much-needed rest.

When Astra awakens, it’s to the sound of a voice speaking over the comms. “Welcome to Nevarro,” they greet, “independent trade anchor and Outer Rim Hyperlane port. Please state the purpose of your visit.”

“Here to meet an old friend,” Din answers as he navigates the ship to the surface.

Astra can already see how much the planet’s changed since the last time they visited. Grogu coos as he also observes the upscale view of Nevarro they’re offered from up here. Astra smiles and gives his head a kiss. “It’s been a while,” she says to him. “Hasn’t it?”

Grogu coos yet another response while Din finishes landing the ship. Astra chuckles and slides the transparisteel open, almost immediately being met by Din’s outstretched hands. He takes Grogu and sets him in the pram alongside his drowsy sister. Din then helps Astra down, though this time, he keeps his hold on her hand. She smiles and wraps her free hand around his arm, also resting her head against it once they’re set in stride towards the blooming city.

“It’s absolutely beautiful here,” Astra says, stealing a glance up at Din. “I can’t believe how much it’s grown since last time.”

“It’s… much different than before,” Din agrees, taking a step closer to her side. “It’s very nice.” His helmet surveys the area. “And it seems very safe.”

Din’s observations, as well as her own, give Astra an idea that she keeps to herself. It would be too dangerous to surface it now, right at the beginning of a quest that will no doubt take much more time to complete.

A white protocol droid greets them as they walk closer to the heart of the city. “Welcome to the port of Nevarro,” she greets, “gem of the Outer Rim.”

Astra raises her brow and looks at Din again. “The gem?” she repeats.

Din returns her look and offers an amused shrug. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Our esteemed High Magistrate welcomes you,” the droid continues as they walk on, “and hopes that your stay will be a prosperous one.”

Astra lets out a laugh of disbelief. “High Magistrate?” She laughs more when Din shakes his helmet.

Grogu coos with curiosity from the pram. Astra lifts her head from Din’s arm for a moment to steal a glance at him. Zora’s sleepy eyes blink a few times as Grogu points things out to her, whether it be the monkey lizards in the trees or the delightful-smelling goods in the bazaar. Astra’s chest fills with a comforting warmth as she rests her head against Din once again.

Meanwhile, the droid goes on. Astra pays half a mind to her, as the other half’s running loose with thoughts of what could be in this new version of Nevarro. It’s much, much different than it used to be, back when the ash of the lava rivers coated each dwelling and seedy bounty hunters ruled the streets. Now, there’s singing and laughing in the streets.

The family’s walk takes them to the center of the city, where the statue of IG-11 stands tall and proud. Astra gives Din’s hand a gentle squeeze as they approach it. He returns the gesture and keeps her close, his helmet tilted up as he takes them in a semi-circle around it. Din steals a quick glance at their son. “Do you remember your old friend?” he asks. Grogu tilts his head and coos, his ears falling a bit in remembrance of how IG-11 fell.

“Mando! Astra!” a new voice draws their family’s attention.

Din and Astra turn around to see Greef Karga approaching. The High Magistrate now wears galactic best that’s not unlike a planet’s royalty, with strong accents of luxurious red and gold as well as emerald. Two small droids hold up the back of his cape, making Astra raise an eyebrow despite the large and friendly smile that’s spread across her lips. She’s since raised her head from Din’s arm as he closes the distance between them.

Greef laughs as he goes on. “I heard you two were back, but I didn’t believe it.”

Din steps forward to greet him first. “Magistrate Karga.”

“That’s High Magistrate Karga to you.” Greef grins as he offers Din a firm handshake. He then turns his attention to Astra. “And of course, one of the galaxy’s most beloved princesses.” Greef takes her hand and sets a chaste kiss on the back of it.

“Oh, please, Greef,” Astra scoffs with a playful smile. “You know I dropped that title long ago.”

Before Greef can respond, his eyes widen at a new observation he’s made. Astra follows his gaze to see he’s noticed the newest member of their family. “I believe there’s an introduction in order,” Greef states.

Astra grins as Din reaches to lift Zora out of the pram. “This is our daughter, Zora,” Din introduces her.

“Daughter!” Greef laughs with delight and claps his hands together. “What a surprise!” Zora rubs her eyes with her tiny fists and starts to smile as Greef comes closer. “Why, hello little Zora!” Zora giggles with happiness when Greef shakes her hand. Din keeps her propped up on his hip while Greef looks between Astra and Din. “You must look like your father.”

Astra nudges Din’s armored shoulder. “Told you.”

Din tilts his helmet and looks at her. “He’s never even seen my face.”

Greef points at Astra. “But I can see hers.” He turns to Grogu and smiles even wider. “And of course, this little one!” Grogu chirps as Greef reaches down to pick him up. “Welcome back!” Greef returns his attention to Din and Astra as he holds Grogu in his arms. “Come. Let’s catch up on old times.” Astra stays close alongside Din as Greef pats his shoulder. “It’s so good to see you all.”

Din looks around, making an obvious gesture with his helmet. “Doesn’t even look like the same place.”

“I know,” Greef says with a soft breath. “We’ve done a lot with it.” He gestures with his free arm to the area around them. “The citizens have been instrumental in making this all work, and look at this.”

Astra glances around with a smile that never fades. All she sees is a blossoming community, one of harmony and peace. It’s like an upscale Sorgan to her, almost like the smaller villages that surrounded the city of Arilia she once lived within.

They head inside before Astra’s thinking can go off to a dangerous path. Greef leads them to his office upstairs, where he sets Grogu down upon his spinning chair. Din sets Zora beside him and Astra shakes her head as she watches Grogu use his abilities to spin them around. She keeps an eye on them even as Greef invites both her and Din out onto the open balcony.

“We are an official trade spur of the Hydian Way,” Greef tells them as they overlook the city.

“Congratulations,” Din speaks up first.

“You should be very proud,” Astra adds. “I know how difficult this kind of progress can be.”

“Well, we’ve got a construction boom going on in the city,” Greef explains. “The belters are mining the asteroid fields at the edge of the system.” He pauses and looks from the view to Din and Astra. “There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro.”

Astra looks at Din as he responds. “I can see.”

“I can set you up with a prime tract right over by the hot springs,” Greef offers, pointing off in the direction of the springs. Astra follows his gaze as best as she can, and even Din seems to ponder his offer for longer than he should. “You two can settle down with Zora and the little one, you can hang up your blasters. Live off the fat of the land.”

Astra swallows hard and looks at the floor. Din visibility tenses alongside her. It’s difficult to be made such an offer, one they would both accept should the circumstances be any different. Instead of agreeing, all Din offers is a single word. “Grogu.”

Greef furrows his brow and sets a hand on his hip. “Come again?”

Din nods in Grogu’s direction. “His name is Grogu.”

“Oh.” Greef looks at Grogu. “If you say so.” He waves the two of them back inside. “Come. I wanna show you something.”

Din and Astra share a look before they follow him. Greef walks around his desk and pulls up a holomap.

“Now,” Greef goes on, “as I was saying, there’s a beautiful parcel available right down here by the falls.”

Astra bites her cheek and looks at Din, waiting for him to reject the offer. Instead, he’s frozen, his gloved fingers fluttering at his sides. Astra furrows her brow, looking between a confused Greef and her evidently conflicted husband. “Can you excuse us a moment, Greef?” Astra asks.

“Of course,” Greef agrees, lifting his hands in further reassurance.

Astra takes Din by the hand and leads him back to the balcony. She stops and takes both his hands in hers as he releases a heavy sigh. “What is it?” she questions, her voice hushed and full of concern.

Din shifts his weight between his feet, his visor looking out at the view as he gains the faith to respond. “You deserve a home.” The words come out strained from his modulator.

Astra’s gaze softens at him. “Din…”

“Nevarro looks beautiful, and it’s safe.” Din looks down at their entwined hands. “I can tell you like it very much here.” He gives them a soft squeeze. “Having a home is important to you.”

“It is.” Astra lifts a hand to tilt Din’s helmet back up at her. “But you’re more important to me, and you have a quest to fulfill.” She offers him her most reassuring smile. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

Din tilts his helmet at her. “You’ve already given up so much for me.”

“As have you.” Astra nods at him. “That’s what our riduurok is.” She gestures with her head to the holomap Greef still has pulled up. “I’m sure this home will be ready for us once we’re ready for it.”

Din’s visor searches her gaze for a few moments before he takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He returns her nod. “Only if you’re certain.”

“I am.”

Din presses her hand to his chest. His voice is a whisper, now. “I’m sorry.”

Astra shakes her head. “Don’t be.” She lightly drums her fingers upon his cuirass. “You’re my home. Remember?”

Din tilts his helmet, the best substitute he has for a smile, before he leads the way back inside. Greef looks up at them from the holomap as Din provides their agreed upon response. “We appreciate the offer, but we have some matters to look after.”

“Oh.” Greef lifts his brow. “I’m confused. I thought you had completed your mission, but you’re still running around here with the same little critter.” He gestures to Grogu, who continues to spin a giggly Zora and himself around in the chair.

Din sets a hand on the back of the chair to stop them. He pauses before he answers. “It’s complicated.” He exchanges a glance with Astra. “We completed our quest. He returned to us.” Din hesitates and moves closer to Astra’s side. “I removed my helmet, and now I’m an apostate.”

“Which is all the more reason for you to stay here with us,” Greef insists. Astra tightens her hands into fists at her sides. “Where you are from, you may be an apostate, but here… you’d both be landed gentry.”

“Maybe after we’ve…” Astra begins to say.

She’s interrupted by a droid walking in. “Magistrate,” they call for Greef.

“High Magsitrate,” Greef retorts.

“Yes, High Magistrate,” the droid corrects themselves. “Apologies.”

“Your timing couldn’t be any worse,” Greef complains with a look over his shoulder.

“But it’s just that there’s someone here to see you.”

Din and Astra share a look.

“It can wait,” Greef hisses.

“But it’s pirates!” Greef turns around in a rapid movement. Din and Astra continue to glance at each other, Astra’s eyes widening a bit as Din shifts his weight. “Pirates in the courtyard.”

Astra looks between Din and their children, who continue to giggle and play around on Greef’s spinning chair. She furrows her brow and draws herself just a bit closer to Din’s side. There’s still a lot for them to discuss since landing on Nevarro, but one thing’s for certain: Perhaps Nevarro isn’t as safe as they thought.

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#at long last they have returned for a full season of their own!#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x original female character #the mandalorian x original character #security #dindjarindiaries #the mandalorian spoilers

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