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alluringjae · 3 years

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it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

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sofoulandfairaday · 3 years

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The ultimate How I Met Your Mother Finale rant

I know this has been done before, and I know I'm several years late to the party, but I don't care, so IN THIS ESSAY I WILL tell you about why this finale takes the spot as the second-worst finale in TV show history (because Game of Thrones is still, to this day, unbeatable, and it will probably stay like that forever).

But first, a little context: I've just finished binge-watching HIMYM. This binge has been going on for three days straight (my final exam of the semester is in a week and I should be studying, so the fact that the last few days were a partial waste of time makes me so mad). Second thing: I already knew how it would end, and yes, kids, it does ruin the show for you. It ruins the show so much it makes your blood boil when you rewatch certain scenes, but I will get to that.

You might want to make yourself a drink because this is a complete list of all the reasons why HIMYM's finale sucks - I'm warning you, it's gonna be looong.

It completely invalidates the entirety of season 9

This is one of the complaints people most often have with this series, and I have to agree. It would have been so much better if the last two episodes never existed, and they just showed Barney and Robin dancing at the reception after walking out of the chapel, Ted noticing Tracy and then the platform scene. "And that, kids, is the story of how I met your mother". Cut scene. Honestly, I don't get the hate people give to season 9, barring the last 2/3 episodes, especially since season 8 was so much worse (except for a few honourable mentions, like The Robin). S8 was slower, less funny, and less deep, and while the authors took a risk by making s9 happen in the span of a weekend it paid off: they took their time introducing the character of the Mother to the gang and fleshing her out. They make sure to highlight all the little ways in which Ted and Tracy are perfect for each other, and even tie up loose ends, like with the Slapsgiving episode, that was a filler but it wasn't boring to watch (although it may be problematic for different reasons, I'm not Chinese, so I can't say for sure if it's cultural appropriation or just the authors making fun of a particular movie genre).

Some episodes were arguably great: "Daisy" was amazing, and that whole fight between Marshall and Lily was so realistic and well thought out, "Sunrise" was extremely important for Ted's character development, same goes for Tracy and "How Your Mother Met Me", "Bedtime stories" was impressive, "Rally" was incredibly funny and proved once again what a beautiful character Barney Stinson is, so much so that even Robin never has doubts that he (the guy with the biggest commitment issues on the planet) will bail on her before the wedding, and says to Ted that "he always comes back". Daphne's character is super funny and the right amount of annoying, the shenanigans of the gang are well thought out and all of the characters (not just Barney) complete their arc in this season. The last two/three episodes butcher that.

Marshall and Lily

Marshall and Lily, arguably the world's most solid couple, are the only thing this God-awful finale gets right, especially Marshall, who is my second-favourite character, that finally gets everything he deserves. But what about Lily? They never mention her career after Italy, and I refuse to believe she goes back to being a kindergarten teacher as if her year in Rome meant nothing. I also refuse to think she becomes nothing but a political wife, the equivalent of Zoey, but without saving the world. We know she has three kids, but her postpartum depression is never really talked about much and they definitely had the screentime to delve into it.

Barney

Where do I even begin? Barney Stinson is, without a doubt, the best character in this series, the glue of the whole gang. I think the message they were trying to give is that, since his trauma stemmed from the absence of a father figure in his life, he could only truly heal by becoming a father as well. People also say that n°31 had to stay just a number, because who could match up with Barney Stinson? First of all, I call BULSHIT on that last point, because Robin wasn't the only girl Barney could have ended up marrying. I used to think that too, but it's just not true: that is the equivalent of saying that Barney was incapable to truly love a woman and commit to her, even after all the development he got, and that he only got one shot at love in life, and that's it. This goes against the point the showrunners try to make by having Ted and Robin end up together AND by having Tracy get with Ted in the first place: "it's never too late, you always have another chance at love, etc." And, let's face it, Barney and Robin are legendary, but Barney and Nora (hell, even Barney and Quinn!) were pretty good together too.

Second of all, if they wanted to give Barney a kid, they could have easily done that, before Barney married Robin. Barney's "redemption" starts when he gets with Robin the first time, hell maybe even when we meet James for the first time: Nora, Quinn, finding out who his father is, the episode dedicated to the lies his mum told him/finding James' father, him getting to know his own dad, etc... those are all steps along the way. The s9 episode where Barney accepts the relationship between Loretta and the reverend proves how far he's come. So why not give him a daughter BEFORE he proposes to Robin? Have him cheat on Nora/Quinn with n°31, giving him a relapse, and having him get closer to Robin while struggling to be a dad to Ellie. That would have been great.

Or, you know, don't give him children. What's the point of burning the Playbook if you're going to have him write the second edition? What's the point of having him do a complete 180 in the last few scenes and acting like having a kid is the only thing that makes him change? What's the point of doing that when the show spends entire episodes berating Marshall and Lily for "changing too much" when they have a kid?

Also, Barney is the "challenge accepted" guy. He loves his wife so much, he spent years wanting her, and then he gives up because there is no WiFi in his hotel. How does that make any sense at all? This is Barney Stinson, the "I will fly out to San Francisco and buy Lily a plane ticket", the "I will steal every girl from my best friend just to save him for Lily", the guy that wrote the Playbook (it takes effort to pull those plays off), the guy that planned for weeks his proposal, the guy that waited years to get back at the man who stole his first girlfriend, the guy that makes every night legendary... are you telling me that that guy becomes the equivalent of a bored housewife instead of living his best life while travelling the world? Come on. They don't even try to make it believable.

Ted

While watching seasons 7 and 8, I felt that Ted was becoming the worst character on the show: he was boring, depressed, basically had no good storylines, the whole thing with Victoria was pointless and inconclusive (and the whole "stop being in love with Robin" was completely out of character for her), but whatever, we could have accepted that because it passed the message that two people could be good together, without being soulmates - which, by the way, renders the TedxRobin ship pointless, because they were right for each other, but Ted and Tracy were soulmates. Him being hung up on Robin in the latter seasons is almost pathetic, and the thing he does with the locket is insane, not romantic - BUT I will say this: it can be seen in two ways, depending on who's watching. I personally like the two as friends, so I see the whole thing as a "Dahmer" situation, but I get the people who see it as a "Dobler" one and see what he did as a grand romantic gesture.

The problem, though, is that the whole TedxRobin ship gets pretty old, pretty fast: it's an annoying on-and-off thing, that should have ended with the locket. Because, yes, Ted was in a dark moment, yes, he was probably depressed, yes, he thought Robin was his only shot at happiness, but he changes during season nine! He spends entire episodes letting go of Robin, including the one where she transforms into a balloon and flies away. Ted is the good guy, ultimately. He is the guy that is genuinely happy for his best friends. In one of the deleted scenes from the finale, he meets Robin years later and says that he's so happy with Tracy he never thought about Robin in that way anymore. All of that gets thrown in the trash. Why do that? To use a Harry Potter metaphor, Ted is Severus Snape, while Barney is James Potter: the former loved the girl of his dreams with all his heart, even to the point of creepiness, but they weren't meant to be together.

Robin

This, along with the next point, is the worst of all: Robin is the worst character of the entire finale. Her relationship with Ted in season 2 is wonderful, and I say that as a full-on Barney/Robin shipper. There was never a problem in their relationship, apparently, but they then break up because they have an "expiration date" and ultimately want different things in life. Except that Ted is not her soulmate. The only times when Robin wants Ted are the times where (1) she can't have him because he's either trying to move on or (2) the times where it's convenient, for example when they become roommates again and they solve their disputes again. Around that time, we see perfectly that Ted had moved on and that the person getting hurt was Barney. It's one thing to see Ted and Robin in the finale as two people picking up where they had left off after they dated. But this is not the case.

In season 7, we have the exchange that should have put an end to any and all TedxRobin drama, and that completely invalidates whatever the writers wrote after that about the two of them: Ted declares his love - "I think you know how you feel about me now. I don't think time's gonna change that. Just tell me: do you love me?" To which she answers "No". And Ted also says later to Marshall, that he's "happy because he can finally move on".

What a load of crap.

Getting over someone is hard, believe me, I would know. And, oftentimes, it doesn't happen until we find someone else to love (and from the moment he meets Tracy, there is no one else for Ted). But by giving Ted feelings for Robin after this moment, it takes away from the beauty of it- because it's one of the most heartbreaking feelings in the world when you declare your love to someone and they don't love you back. Ted and Robin were both honest at that moment, and it was the last genuinely good exchange between them. After that, during season 8 they try to show us Ted trying to get over her (and failing) and in season 9 Ted getting over her completely. This is also weirdly paced because at the beginning of s8 both are in happy relationships with other people and there's no jealousy (which is good, because at least they weren't toxic) and they seem just friends (when Robin leaves Nick to go see him in the middle of the night, she implies that she would do it for any of her friends), but after Ted breaks up with Veronica because of Robin everything is weirdly coated in this sort of tension between the two: first Ted loves her, but she doesn't, so when he helps her by taking her to Barney's proposal ("which means my best bro in the world has given me his blessing").

And, by the way, every time they try to paint Ted as the guy that comes through for Robin after this moment, they dumb down Barney's character. And still fail to make Ted a better guy than him (see: the carousel in Central Park).

Yes, Robin and Ted have some chemistry, but it is nothing compared to what Robin and Barney have. Every time Robin is jealous of Barney, it doesn't seem like a stupid whim, just because some other child is playing with her toys (except, perhaps, during The Robin). Robin and Barney's relationship would need a whole other post, and the next time I rewatch the series I will write down all the things that make them perfect for each other, but, to me, the biggest difference between the two relationships is this: in season 6, when she's not dating either one of them, Ted accuses Robin of never making him feel needed while they were together, whereas Barney praises her for it. Those are elective affinities: that's what Barney and Robin have, and what Tracy and Ted have.

Barney and Robin have more or less the same arc: they both get over their fear of commitment and they do that with each other. Time and time again, we are told that if they're ever going to settle down, it would only be with the other. The first time they break up is honestly so stupid, and even when they are broken up, they are the best of friends, which also makes Robin's behaviour in the finale look so stupid. The way the two of them fit together is unparalleled, both in a romantic and a platonic way.

Think about it: Robin makes Barney a better man, while she makes Ted a worse one.

Also, the whole point that there are different seasons in life for everything gets thrown out the window: apparently, Ted and Robin (that were a couple that ultimately worked in their young twenties) are the same people in their forties.

But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that the two final episodes butcher Robin's arc as well: episode 23 starts with Lily saying "I want this girl to be in our lives" and we know Robin never made other friends outside of the gang, because she didn't need to, and now she walks away from everything because of fucking Ted?? This is saying "hey, Robin was only in the group for Ted, who brought her in, and now she leaves because he's not her puppy anymore". Robin was the one that was eternally indecisive between Ted and Barney and you're telling me that three years and many many life experiences later, she's still not sure?

The point of her story is learning how to get over her fear of commitment, learning how to be there for her friends (there's an entire episode dedicated to that, and it's the one where Lily's pregnant and we meet Robin's ex-best friend in Canada), and how to balance her job and her life. Also, the way her character is treated is un-feminist and un-progressive: she becomes Ted's consolation prize. She is passive throughout s9. She cannot, ultimately, win the modern-day struggle most women have and balance out career and love life, so her true life, her "happy chapter" begins after she has already accomplished everything she wanted to and she's free for Ted. She doesn't even go back to him, she just the prize the main character wanted for all his life and only got in the end because his wife died (ONE SCENE, people, ONE SCENE!). Also, this makes Tracy the "broodmare" that gives him the kids he wanted, and his "happy family" experience before he goes to be with his one true love.

The mother

This. This makes me so mad. One whole season spent on building up Tracy's character, just for it to go to waste. It would have been so easy to screw her up, but she is hands down the best thing about s9. She's the perfect woman for Ted and the episode shot through her perspective is the sweetest. By the end, I liked her more than Robin and Lily. She was the perfect addition to their group, she fit together with them in a perfect way, and they show us the biggest moment of her and Ted's life... for what? To have her die in a few sentences? And I don't care if they shot a funeral scene, I don't care if the finale was supposed to be 40 minutes long, because, in the end, it wasn't. The scene where Ted meets her is the second most beautiful one (after Barney's proposal to Robin) and the climax of the whole show, but they ruin her... and for what? The chemistry Ted has with her, he has with no one. The joy she brings him, the way she understands him, is unlike any other. I am sure that one of the reasons they killed her off was the shock value and I hate it.

I cannot stress this enough: Tracy makes Ted a better person. When he's with Robin, Ted is "the nice guy" in the most selfish and narcissistic version of the trope. When he's with Tracy, love comes easy to Ted. Also, the scenes between the two of them are arguably the best Ted scenes of the show.

The kids' reactions (ugh)

It's not really what they say- it's the way they say it. The end of HIMYM was not supposed to be funny, even though the show is a sitcom. It was supposed to be bittersweet and beautiful, because it's the end of an era, and the writers must have known that. So, Ted finishes telling his story, reveals to the audience that their now-beloved Tracy is dead, and the reaction is: "No, ahah, you totally have the hots for Aunt Robin" (their words, not mine). Like, what the actual fuck? I cringed when Penny said that. It's tasteless and not fun at all. Even if it has been six years... It's still your fucking mum, show a little bit of sadness at the thought of her.

The reason the show ended this way

What makes me especially mad is that I know for a fact that the reason they went with this ending is that it was the original one, always intended for the show, from season 2 onwards. And, if you watch it right after s2, it makes sense. But if you consider the eight years that passed and the massive character development, then no, it's not the best possible one. So many things hadn't been decided yet back in s2, especially about Barney, Ted, and Robin, and I hate that they didn't dare to scrap their work. This ending probably had sentimental meaning to the writers, but authors have to do what's best for their characters, not themselves. It's like with GoT, in a way: I think that the authors were all too aware of the impact of HIMYM and didn't believe that their finale would live up to the expectations... which compelled them to make the worst decision possible?? Every single character is OOC during the episode. Oh, and Marshall and Lily moving in the last episode is a ripoff from Friends (or maybe a tribute? Idk). Anyway, I believe that the authors were too attached to their sentimental version of "what should have been" and didn't give the characters the endings they truly deserved.

"Life works this way" // "Life only moves forward"

Some people say that the show is realistic because that's how life works. But I call super-BS on that. That might be true, and yes, people do get sick and die (Max, Marshall's dad...) and life does go on. But then, you don't frame it the way they did. It's just bad storytelling if you do it like that. And the problem is not the structure of season 9, because the characters develop in that season. The problem isn't even the mother's death. The problem is Ted ending up with Robin because that's not life moving forward for him, that's him, doing the same thing he did in 2005, 25 (twenty-fucking-five) years before!

In conclusion, this finale is incoherent and inconclusive, and not satisfying at all. The only character that gets a good ending is Marshall: why is that? What makes his ending great? It's the fact that his character arc is respected and he finally gets what he's been working towards for more than ten years.

#himym #how i met your mother #how i met your mother spoilers #how i met your mother finale #09x23 #09x24 #robin sherbatsky #ted mosby #tracy mcconnell #barney stinson #marshall eriksen #lily aldrin #swarkles #ted x robin #ted x tracy #barney x robin #a rant #the blue french hor #the yellow umbrella

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kiscon · 2 years

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KiScon 2022

*** Save the date: KiScon 2022 will take place 4-6 November! The event will be entirely online. ***

Dear K/S friends,

Greetings! Time flies – it’s been a month since our last newsletter and since we announced KiScon 2022, so here we are with our first progress report. 1. Registration Almost 40 people have already registered for the virtual KiScon; we are delighted to see both familiar and new fans among our members. You can sign up for our virtual KiScon 2022 directly on Conline. Please note: registration is a 2-step process: 1) click “Join” to enter the KiScon area on Conline, then 2) click “Registration” to sign up for our 2022 convention. For a detailed explanation with screenshots, you can download this handy How-To (pdf). We recommend that you use a fannish name for your Conline profile, ideally your badge name (if you usually put both your real name and your fannish name on convention badges, only use the fannish part). We have also prepared a detailed guide for setting up or editing your Conline profile. 2. KiScon Discord Our KiScon Discord server (or shall we call it a “KiScord”?) is slowly filling with members and lively discussion. You can join it by following this invite link. For the convention weekend, there will be special channels for activities and chat, exclusive to con attendees. We will also create "Starfleet Academy" channels a week before the con, for training and practice, so that members can get used to the virtual setting and try out things. The server also features general channels that will be open year-round, both for past KiScon members and for fans interested in KiScon. All Trek and K/S discussion very welcome! To make things a bit easier for the con staff, we’d appreciate if you could add your badge name also to your Discord profile name so that we know who is who. :-) As always with all things computer and internet, we are very happy to help you if you have questions or encounter problems. We want to make this experience of a virtual KiScon as pleasant and smooth as possible for you. 3. Con Zine: send us your submissions! We are very happy that Carleen will once again be our editor for the con zine. She did an amazing job with the 2019 zine. Please see this message from her:

"Captain, you almost make me believe in luck." — Mr. Spock "Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles." — Captain Kirk Just when we thought it might never happen again. It's happening! Thanks to those of you who worked so hard to make it happen. Since no KiScon is complete without a zine, we'd better get started. To do that, I need your help. So, email your artwork, stories, and poetry to Carleen at kszinesubs @ gmail.com. The deadline for all work is August 1, 2022. No limits on worlds, ratings, movies, timelines, or crossovers. But it does need to feature Kirk/Spock. Do me a favour and shoot me an email if you plan to submit something. That gives me a heads up on what to expect — looking forward to being your editor again. Do not hesitate to use that email address for questions. Carleen

4. AO3 Collection: gems from past KiScon zines Speaking of con zines, we had a good look at the zines of past conventions. The KiScon con zines have a long and beautiful tradition, going back to 1999. Over 200 fanworks – fic, art, poetry, plays – were submitted to these zines over the years. Some of these fanworks have since found their way to the AO3. We try to gather as many as possible in the dedicated AO3 collection: KiScon – The Official Zine. If you contributed to the KiScon con zine in the past, please add your work to this collection. If you need help (e.g. with embedding art on the AO3), please get in touch with us. We’d love to help. 5. Where to find information & announcements: Official website KiScon Discord server Tumblr blog Twitter Conline Facebook Group Dreamwidth Stay tuned for more information on ways to participate and contribute to this convention! We’ll talk about the vidshows and other activities in our next newsletter. 6. Last but not least, allow us to signal boost a fic and art fest that is currently taking place: Kirk/Spock Spring Fever – see the collection profile on the AO3 and this post on the Dreamwidth community for detailed information. The collection Yours in K/S,

T’Lara and Judy

Co-chairs KiScon 2022

#KiScon 2022 #kiscon2022 #space husbands #spirk #star trek zine #star trek convention #star trek tos #star trek aos #jim kirk #kirk/spock #k/s #star trek #spock #kirk x spock

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sylvies-chen · 3 years

Text

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

++++++++

He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

#Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 #chenford fic week 2021 #CFW 2021 #chenford #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

What if...? Part 7

So, vote came in with an overwhelming landslide for two parts instead of a giant part 7. Too bad you’re getting a giant part 7 and a part 8 and... I’ve given up. Whatever the final number pf parts this ends up on, it’ll end up on. You lovely LOVELY enablers are just adding fuel to the fire. Your comments and reblogs are such an inspiration, thank you! <3 <3

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7

“I’m not entirely sure I’m comfortable with this.” Davarax drawls after Dulsissia had dropped off Corin for training and Barthor has to be called over twice by Paz before he’ll stop talking to her.

Dulsissia gives Davarax her sweetest smile. “I’m just being a good influence on him.”

Davarax hums, crosses his arms and turns to watch Paz drill the others through the warm-up before the training can begin.

Fighting back a laugh, Dulsissia turns her focus to the children as well and she tilts her head slightly when she sees Paz correct Corin’s posture and awarding him for getting it right with a nod and a pat on the head before moving on to Din, who seems a little jumpy today and Paz wraps his arm around him while saying something that has Din nodding and his shoulders relaxing a little. “Davarax?”

“Mmh?”

“Has Paz always been so protective of them?” Dulsissia has observed him with other kids in the Covert and usually Paz radiates hostility and tends to behave like he’s superior to them all. She’s seen him be downright rude. Very different from how he is with the rest of Davarax’ children.

“Towards Raga, yeah,” Davarax replies, “but Din is what knocked him into a complete parental tip-yip towards anyone he deems a member of his group.”

Feeling another soft rush of emotion, Dulsissia glances over at the Mandalorian next to her. “Truth be told, considering how his father behaves,” Dez Vizla had not impressed her with his manners during Paz’ birthday and revealed where the boy has his occasional arrogance from, “I’m amazed he knows how to be this sweet. I haven’t met his mother yet, is that who he takes after?”

Davarax doesn’t answer right away. He shifts his weight uneasily and uncrosses his arms to cross them again with a different arm on top. “Paz’ mother walked out on him and his father two days before Paz turned five years old. She left the Tribe to be with some guy who owned some shipping company. It’s not something we talk about out loud, so… don’t.”

Stunned, Dulsssia cannot believe what she’s hearing. “She left her son behind?”

“She wanted a fresh start and leave the Mandalorian life behind.” Davarax replies, uncomfortable.

Realizing she’s standing there with her mouth open, Dulsissia shuts it and turns back to stare at the children. The idea of leaving Corin behind when she planned to escape from Macero had never once entered her mind. Dez Vizla does not appear to be as cruel as Macero, but still…

This time Dulsissia stays in the room when they train, curled up comfortably in a corner and dividing her attention between the Mando’a dictionary and the children. She’s feeling lazy today and just wants to be near her son and the ones who has become so very dear to her.

Despite the fact that Davarax is teaching them to fight, the mood is so light and the air is so filled with comfortable belonging that Dulsissia finds herself relaxed and time just flies by.

She’s almost a little sad when Davarax calls for the end of the session.

Getting up on her feet, stretching a little, Dulsissia adores the sight of Corin huddled up with the other children and talking with nothing but excitement and happiness in his eyes. She is a little surprised when he comes running over to her, usually she has to drag him out of the room, but he quickly reveals why.

“Mom, Barthor is going to show us this machine he made in his room. Can I go? Can I?”

“I’ll walk Corin back.” Paz promises.

“Me too.” Din pipes up.

“Me too!” Raga shouts.

Laughing, Dulsissia looks down at her big-eyed boy and tries to put on a strict face. “Food in one hour.”

Nodding so eagerly it has to hurt, Corin darts over to the other children at superspeed, before she has the chance to change her mind. “Let’s go!”

The group trample out of the room like a herd of wild tauntauns and she saunters over to the man left behind. “Looking at the stuff you have them doing, I feel like giving up. I’ll never be that good,” Dulsissia confesses with a smile.

Davarax bends down to pick up up a towel from the floor. “You will. Just give it time. And do the work.” He makes a displeased grunt when he straightens back up and rolls his right shoulder in an irritated manner.

“What’s wrong?” Dulsissia asks, instantly worried. It’s not a sound she’s heard from him before.

“Nothing.” Davarax sighs and rolls his shoulder again. “Just my shoulder acting up. I pushed things a little too hard during Fighting Corps training yesterday.”

Dulsissia knows there is not much she can do for this far too capable man who saved her and her son and keeps showing them so much kindness, but maybe she can ease his pain a little? “Sit.”

Davarax looks over at her, confused. “What?”

“Sit.” Dulsissia repeats, pointing at the floor to underline her order.

He hesitates, but then slowly sinks down to sit on the floor. “Why…?”

“This,” Dulsissia taps a finger to the armor on his shoulder, “pauldron, is it? Off.”

Still visibly confused, Davarax reaches up and detaches the pauldron. “Dulcy, what are you-”

“I’m no expect, but… I do know how to ease tense muscles a bit.” Dulsissia refuses to think about why she knows how to rub out muscles tense after hours of a rigid posture in uniform. Another stupid thing she’d thought might bring them closer together back then. “Let me know if it hurts too much.”

“I think I can take it.” Davarax replies without trying to hide his amusement.

“I know you can, that’s not why should tell me.” Dulsissia gets on her knees behind him so she reach his shoulder and starts feeling around to get the correct grip before she starts massaging. “I want you to tell me because I don’t want to hurt you. And suffering through the hurt in this case wouldn’t achieve anything. It’s just silly. You don’t become a better fighter by putting yourself through pointless pain, my good Sir. It’s just-”

“Silly.” Davarax says, still horribly amused.

“Yes. Exactly.” Dulsissia pushes a little harder and finds where she can feel a tight tendon. All the layers of his underarmor makes it a bit difficult, but she starts to work on it. “I don’t know why some thinks it is cool to pointlessly ignore pain. I get why you might have to in a fight, but this? It’s so-”

“Silly.” Davarax concludes, half-laughing.

“Yes!” Dulsissia declares, giving his shoulder a light slap.

In a flash, Davarax twists, gets his right arm around her waist and hoists her forward and around to land across his lap, her back cradled by his left arm. “Hitting people in the shoulder causes pain, you know?”

Initially startled by the abrupt change of her position, Dulsissia relaxes in his grip and gives him a sweet smile. “You can take it.”

“Hmm.” Davarax hums. “I’m not sure. I’m a delicate soul.”

She giggles. Dulsissia can’t believe she giggles yet again, but being around him… It’s like forgetting all the bad stuff in her life and just being hopeful again. “In that case, how can I make it up to you?”

“I have a couple of ideas.” Davarax replies, his low voice a sweet caress.

Curious and a little giddy, Dulsissia lowers her eyelashes in a coy move she hasn’t used since… ages ago. “I’m listening…”

“One, spend a couple of hours with me tomorrow. Just you and me. No kids. No interruptions.”

Dulsissia feels heat rising in her face. She can’t think of a better way to spend a couple of hours. And considering that Corin spends most of his time with Din or the other kids these days, he probably won’t mind it much if his mother is too busy to hover. “Okay. We can do that. A-and what’s the second idea?”

“My second idea…” Davarax’ right hand moves up to slide behind her neck and he bends down so his t-visor hover right in front of her face. “A kiss to make it better?”

Her heart flutters like crazy. Dulsissia is fairly certain her face is approaching a rather unflattering shade of red by now. “We can do that too…”

“Yeah?” Davarax’ hand caresses her neck.

Dulsissia swallows, already a little breathless. “Yeah.”

She feels his left arm tightening behind her back, lifting her a little up and against him, at the same time as Davarax’ right hand moves up to cup the back of her head. A couple of months ago, she might not have seen the point of a simple forehead touch, but now? Now that she slides her own arms around his neck and meets him halfway, the two of them holding on and curling up together like one, feeling them breathe together, betting even their hearts are beating in synch, she can only pity her old self.

Lifting her feet, Dulsissia tries to make her way from the kitchen area over to the refresher without stepping on a child. All of Davarax’ children are currently present in her and Corin’s quarters and they lying on their bellies on the floor, entirely focused on a boardgame Paz had brought. Dulsissia glances down at the boardgame as she manoeuvrers her way through the minefield of children. It appears as if Din is giving Barthor a run for his credits. No wonder he looks so grouchy.

Well, there is one child not lying on the floor and that is Raga, who has clearly lost interest in the game and is merely sitting on Paz’ lower back while braiding some cloth into yet another hair tie to her growing collection.

Dulsissia almost makes it to the refresher, knowing she’s going to need the time to do her hair and try to make herself look good, when there is a knock on the door.

Sighing, seeing how none of the children are going to open the door, even her sweet Corin is too busy cozying up with Din to notice, Dulsissia enters the minefield yet again and struggles her way over to the door.

Huffing, she pushes the hair out of her face just as she presses the button and the door slides open to reveal Davarax.

“Oh.” She blinks surprised. He’s not supposed to be here for another hour. “I thought…”

Davarax sighs and looks down. “Listen, there’s been a change of plans.”

Dulsissia can tell from the tone of his voice that it isn’t good news. She absently crosses her arms and braces herself. “What’s happened?”

He doesn’t lift his visor. “Nevarro is not our only Covert. We have several. And we keep creating new ones, to have room for more people and in case of emergencies.”

This makes sense to Dulsissia, so why does his words make her body tense up?

“She’s sending me and someone else to a new location to eliminate a threat and set up a new Covert.” Davarax finishes.

So, he’s going away again. Dulsissia feels a heavy weight of disappointment drop into her stomach but she forces herself to keep a brave face on. “It’s for the good of the Covert. I understand.” She clears her throat. “How long… do you think it will take?” Two weeks? Three? More?

“Six months.” Davarax replies, lifting his t-visor to look at her at last. “If everything goes according to plan.” But the tone of his voice also says he has no faith in that happening. He sounds… tired.

“That’s…“ Dulsissia has to clear her throat again. “Okay. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. We’re starting preparations now.” Davarax shakes his head. “That’s not the worst.”

Now she feels a jolt of actual fear. “There’s something worse?”

“She’s sending Dez Vizla too.” Davarax says. “And he’s insisting on bringing Paz along.”

“What?” Dulsissia exclaims and Davarax grabs her arm, so she lowers her voice after a quick glance back at the children now watching them with curious looks. “He’s twelve.” She hisses. “It’s not safe out there for him.”

Davarax merely shakes his head again. “I know. I voted against it, but they think I’m too soft on ‘my kids’.” He lets her go and takes a moment to simply lean against the door frame, as if he hasn’t the strength to stand upright by his own power, then he straightens and looks into the room. “I have to tell him. Send him out to me?”

For half a second, Dulsissia wants to say no. She wants to shut the door and refuse to open it for him or that horrible Vizla man, but then her brain kicks in and she gives a faint nod. This isn’t something Davarax agrees with or even wants to do, but he is helpless to prevent it and it is best Paz hears it from him.

Leaning against the wall of her room, looking out into the hallway through the open door, she watches as Davarax talks to Paz over by the door to his room. She can tell the moment Paz realizes what Davarax is explaining to him by the frantic shake of Paz’ head and when he knows there is no way to escape his father’s command by the defeated slump that follows Davarax’ comforting hand on his shoulder.

It’s in the middle of the night, but Dulsissia can’t sleep. It’s hours since Corin cried himself to sleep and she can tell by the sound of his even breathing that he’s finally found peace, but not her.

She keeps staring up at the ceiling. Everything inside her is a churning turmoil.

Davarax is leaving. Paz’ father is dragging him into danger. And the other children are miserable.

She is miserable.

Why now? There weren’t that many new souls in the Covert. And why Davarax? The leader could have sent anyone. Was it because of Dulsissia? Was this her revenge for Dulsissia not heeding her warning and staying away from him if she didn’t take the Creed?

What if she will never see Davarax again? What if something happens and he never comes back home? That is one thought she cannot stand.

Dulsissia takes care to make as little noise as possible as she sneaks out of bed and tiptoes on bare feet over to the door. Never before has a door made as loud a whoosh as the one her door now makes. Cringing, she looks over at Corin, but he’s still asleep. Good.

The hallway is cold, she’s just wearing her simple nightgown, but she can’t risk getting dressed in case it would wake Corin up. The door whooshes loudly again as it closes behind her, she waits but doesn’t hear any sign of Corin waking up so she walks over to knock on Davarax’ door.

He’s probably asleep. He should be asleep She hopes he’s asleep. He needs sleep to be rested for tomorrow.

The door slides open, revealing a fully dressed and armored Davarax, who seems as puzzled to see her as she is to find him awake. “Dulcy? What’s wrong?”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” She hears how it sounds like an accusation.

Davarax’ helmet pulls back a little. “I don’t know. I…. Thinking too much, I guess.”

Dulsissia deflates. “Can I come in?”

That seems to puzzle him even more and he hesitates before taking a step aside and gesturing her to come in. “Sure.”

Dulsissia walks inside. It’s strange, now that she thinks about it. She’s had him in her room countless times by now, but she’s never been in his.

It’s a nice room. Small, but tidy. He has a neat row of vibro-blades on the wall. Two blasters hanging there as well. She suspects what those things on the shelves up above the bed are not decorations, but some kind of explosive devices. Clothes are neatly folded and stacked on a chair in the corner or the room with a bag on the floor next to it. The only hint of luxury is the large bed at the very end of the room, with bright white sheets and a thick fur cover.

Then she sees the most beautiful holo-picture of Paz, Raga, Barthor and Din standing on a writing desk. It hurts her heart and makes her at peace with her decision to be here.

“Dulcy?” Davarax asks, sounding a little worried. “Talk to me.”

“It’s going to be a lot longer than six months, isn’t it?” She says.

Dulsissia hears him sigh somewhere behind her. “Probably.” He takes a step towards her. “Listen, you will still be safe here. You and Corin. You can still make a life here. A-and maybe even meet someone else…”

“I don’t want someone else.” Dulsissia states. “I want you.”

She hears him step closer. She feels his gloved fingers slide down the back of her bare upper arm, as if he’s afraid to touch her but wants the contact too much to be able to stop himself. “Dulcy…”

Dulsissia turns her head a little in his direction and Davarax instantly backs up a couple of steps.

“Sorry…” He sounds a little shaky. “Sorry. That was crossing the line. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“When Din broke his nose, you took off your gloves to help him.” Dulsissia says. “So you can take off your gloves.”

“Yes.”

“Not including your helmet, can you take the rest off?”

A moment’s pause. “Yes.”

Dulsissia turns to face him, still strangely calm. “Do you want to? Now?”

Davarax stands frozen, but he can’t hide the hitch in his breath. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” She replies. “Now please answer my question; do you want to take them off?”

Another moment of hesitation and this time Dulsissia can tell his eyes are moving over her. She knows if she was to see her own reflection, she’d see a woman without any make up, in a shapeless and sleeveless white nightgown that barely reaches her ankles, sporting unkempt and wild hair. She wonders what he sees. Because she notices how Davarax’ hands clench into fists, like he has to stop himself from reaching out for her.

Finally he gives her his answer in a quiet, almost shameful whisper. “Yes.”

Nodding, pleased they want the same thing, Dulsissia reaches up and slides the nightgown off her shoulders and lets it drop to the floor. “Then take them off.”

The sight of her seems to knock the air out of his lungs for a second, then his hands move to start removing his armor, his clothes, and not once does he take his eyes off her.

Dulsissia watches as more and more of him is revealed and realizes she had been right; he really is lovely all over. Beautiful. With his golden skin, finely tuned muscles and battle scars.

Once his body is as bare as hers, he waits for her to decide what happens next and she walks over to him. Placing her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating as fast as hers, Dulsissia savours the heat of his skin and wants to place her lips to every scar. So much pain is written on his skin. “I’m guessing you Mandalorians have some secrets when it comes to this as well?”

“Some.” Davarax replies in a hoarse whisper, strained with the effort of keeping still.

She looks up at him. “Will you show me?”

He does.

And for a while, all she can think about it how good it feels, how good he feels, the heat of him, the weight of him, all of him. Her whimpers mixed with his half-choked groans. Her fingers digging into his back and his hand gripping her hip. And she will never ever forget the feeling of him shaking apart in her embrace, allowing himself to crumble, trusting her to put him back together again.

After, she holds him to her chest so he won’t see the tears in her eyes as she thinks about how that they might not ever have this again.

Dulsissia stays as long as she dares, but eventually she sits up and scouts for where she’d dropped her nightgown. She has to get back before Corin wakes up.

Davarax’ bare fingers trail down her back. “Marry me.”

Blinking surprised, she looks back at him. “What?”

On his back, sprawling carelessly, barely covered by sheets, Davarax moves his hand to cup her face. “Marry me.”

Now it is her turn to huff a laugh and Dulsissia lifts a hand to cover his. “You definitely need sleep.”

Davarax sits up and leans forward to place his forehead to hers in a sweet kov’nyn. “Marry me.”

Dulsissia swallows hard, memorizes the feeling for a little while, then she gently pulls free and gets out of bed. “I’ll wait for you.” She walks over to where she can pick up her nightgown and puts it on. “I won’t be with anyone else. You have my heart.” Dulsissia looks over at him. “But I can’t marry you. I’m never getting married again. I’m sorry.”

Davarax sighs, looks down and then back up again. He nods. “I understand.”

Dulsissia tries to smile but fails. She draws a deep breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Davarax nods and he merely watches as she leaves.

They are standing by the door leading into Nevarro city and Dulsissia is doing her very best to be strong for the children. She, Corin, Din, Raga and Barthor are lined up to say their goodbyes to Paz.

Poor Paz, all dressed up in travel gear meant for a grown man and looking utterly miserable.

Corin is hiding halfway behind Dulsissia’s leg, he hasn’t done that in months, while Din is the first to step forward toward Paz.

“You promised…” Din whispers, pale and scared. “What if they come while you’re gone?”

“They won’t.” Paz replies in a shaky voice, placing a hand on Din’s shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. He tries to will conviction into his voice. “Okay? They won’t.”

Before Din can say much of anything, Raga rushes forward to throw her arms around Paz’ torso and sobs out loud as she buries her face in his chest. Not letting go of Din, Paz closes his eyes and bends down to place a kiss on Raga’s hair before resting his cheek against the curls and wraps his other arm around her.

Dulsissia has to look away and blink away tears of her own.

“Don’t go.” Raga barely manages to say through the heaving sobs.

“He has to.” Barthor says quietly and with no small amount of sadness himself. He reaches out and runs a gentle hand up and down Raga's back.

Paz lifts his arm from Raga’s back and holds it out so Barthor can move in and then he hugs them both before pulling Din close with his other am. A second after getting the three in place, Paz lifts his head and opens the arm he has around Din again, wiggling his fingers for Corin to join them.

Corin doesn’t hesitate. He darts over and squeezes in tight next to Din, letting Paz lock them with his arm as he does with Barthor and Raga.

Dulsissia discretely wipes at her eyes and looks down just as Paz lifts his gaze to her. He can’t really fit all four in his embrace, but he’s trying his very best. “You…” Paz swallows hard and tries again. “You have to look after them for me while I’m gone. Understand?”

Raga sobs even louder. Din’s fingers are digging into Paz’ jacket.

“I promise.” Dulsissia replies, even as everything in her rebels at the fact that this little boy, Paz is just a child himself, should feel such a responsibility. He’s too young for such a weight.

The sound of heavy footsteps makes her look over and soon Dez Vizla enters the hallway, followed by Davarax, and the leader of the Vizla clan doesn’t even pause as he walks by his son. “Paz. Let’s go.”

Raga wails even louder. Barthor backs away, so does Corin, and eventually a reluctant Din, but Paz has to pry Raga off himself and he more or less shoves her at Dulsissia before he runs after his father, failing entirely to hide his own tears.

Dulsissia restrains Raga, desperately trying to run after Paz, and looks over at Davarax standing there. “You keep him safe, Davarax. Whatever it takes. You hear me? You keep him safe and you make sure the both of you come back to us.”

Davarax nods. He looks at each child in turn, then sighs and crouches down. “You hear that? I’ll keep Paz safe. I promise. And we’ll be back before you know it. Then we will all be together again.”

Barthor cautiously approaches him. “Don’t forget us?”

Davarax reaches out and gives his hair a light ruffle. “Never. Not as long as I live.” He then looks over at Din. “I will be back, Din. Trust me.”

Din merely stares down at the floor.

Corin is next to approach him. “I will look after mommy until you get back.”

Davarax does his little trademark huff-laugh and taps Corin lightly under the chin with a finger. “I appreciate that, Corin. Thank you.” He then reaches out a hand and puts his palm gently to Raga’s back as the little girl is clinging to Dulsissia’s leg and crying so hard her small body is shaking. He has no words that will take away her pain, so in the end Davarax straightens back up, hesitates, looks at each of then in turn once more, then he walks away.

The door closes behind him and he’s gone.

Feeling a deep hollowness spreading inside, Dulsissia absently bends down to pick up Raga. “Let’s go.” And she carries the heartbroken soul, while the other three morose children walk behind her.

Davarax made sure to get one of his friends from the Fighting Corps to step in to train the children, if only twice a week. And Decco takes over Dulsissia’s training, which makes it a lot less fun and brings a lot more tough work instead.

“You’re as bad as he was.” Decco grumbles, crouching next to where Dulsissia is squirming on the floor after she got sent flying there by the other woman.

“As bad as who?” Dulsissia asks, wondering whether she can be bothered to get up or not.

“As Davarax.” Decco straights up and shoves at Dulsissia with her boot. “He complained when I trained him too. Now get up.”

Dulsissia remains where she is and frowns thoughtfully. “How old are you?”

“Old enough to be your mother so don’t make me put you over my knee.” Decco threatens. “Get up.”

Dulsissia scrambles to her feet.

It doesn’t take more than two days before Davarax’ absence takes its toll, though. Dulsissia is surprised to find Din’s mother on her door one morning, asking her with resigned worry if her son was there. He’d disappeared some time during the night and no one knows where he is.

“He’s not here. Sorry.” Dulsissia says and the Mandalorian wanders off to ask the next person.

Considering her options for a moment, Dulsissia looks back at where Corin is sitting on his bed, reading. “I need to go check something, sweetie. Can you be a good boy and stay here?”

Corin shrugs. He’s clearly not heard what the question was about, otherwise he’d be running around looking for Din too. Good.

“Okay then. Stay here. I’ll be back soon.” Dulsissia slips out and closes the door behind her before heading down to the storage room Davarax had revealed to be Din’s hiding spot.

At first she can’t see him and Dulsissia is a bit relieved she hadn’t told his mother she knew where Din was, but then she takes a step further into the cluttered room and a blanket across an old pilot seat moves.

“Din?” Dulsissia steps closer and she chokes on a startled sound when the blanket goes flying, revealing Din curled up on the seat and holding a sharp piece of metal out in a defensive move.

Once the shock is over, Dulsissia cautiously approaches the boy. “Din, it’s me. It’s just me. Dulcy.”

Blinking, as if in a trance, Din finally seems to actually see her and he slowly lowers the weapon.

“Are you okay?” Dulsissia asks, daring to crouch down next to him, seeing how he’s still acting rather dazed. “What are you doing down here?”

“I thought…” Din mumbles, looking around, frowning confused. “I thought they were here?”

“Who, Din?” Dulsissia reaches out and cautiously eases the weapon out of his hands. He lets her take it, looking increasingly distressed and confused.

“Them!” The boy gulps for air. “The droids. They’re going to kill us all. Like they killed my mom and dad.”

“There are no droids here, Din.” Dulsissia puts the weapon away and then gently brushes the hair away from his sweaty brow. “No droids. You’re safe.”

Din shakes his head and his eyes brim with tears. “No. I’m not! He said he’d keep them away and they stayed away, but now he’s gone away! Him and Davarax both! And now the droids are going to come and kill us all!”

“No…” Dulsissia inches up to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around the shivering boy and hugs him close when she hears the first quiet sobs he’s trying to hide. “No, baby, no. You’re safe here in the Covert. We all are. The droids won’t come for you or any of us. It’s going to be okay.”

She sits with him until the tears dry up and Din is able to function somewhat normally again. He’s tired, exhausted and cold, so she ends up carrying him back to his parents.

Forget about the fight training, Dulsissia suspects the muscles she might get is from carrying these children around.

Din makes a miserable sound when she hands him over to his father, but doesn’t fight it. Dulsissia wonders if maybe she should have just brought him back to her room instead, suspecting Corin might have had a calming influence on him, but it wouldn’t be fair to Din’s parents.

“Thank you.” Din’s mother says, sounding both relieved and as exhausted as the son.

“Listen,” Dulsissia decides to risk it, “Din and my son have gotten very close. They are very fond of each other. If you need help with-”

“I appreciate you bringing me my son, but the day when I need help from an outsider is the day you can take my helmet.” The woman snaps and the door slides shut in front of Dulsissia’s face.

Huh. Rude!

It takes about two weeks before there is a knock on Dulsissia’s door and she opens it to find the teacher with the stinky room standing there with a firm grip on Raga’s arm.

The little girl is staring defiantly down at the floor and the man is taking short, angry breaths.

“You think she’s innocent and manageable? You manage her!” The man yanks Raga forward so she stumbles inside the room, “Enjoy!” and stomps away.

Shocked, Dulsissia slowly turns away from staring at his back to looking at the miserable looking child standing in the middle of the room. Raga is rubbing her arm where the man’s hand had been grabbing her and her lips are trembling.

Corin is sitting on his bed, wide-eyed and scared to move.

“Oh, baby…” Dulsissia sighs and closes the door. She walks over to Raga. “Are you okay?”

She nods, but keeps staring at the floor.

Dulsissia crouches down and wraps her arms around her. It takes a little while, but eventually Raga relaxes and leans against her.

Bribing her son and Raga with treats and a new story on the datapad, Dulsissia uses the opportunity to sneak off and talk to Raga’s parents.

Raga’s father doesn’t say much, but Raga’s mother points inside their room, over at where three other children are wrestling on the floor, screaming and pummelling each other. “I hear what you’re saying, Dulcy, but I got my hands full here. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with Raga’s antics right now. My boys are about to take the Creed and I have at least five other assignments I have to finish. Just… send her home. I’ll keep her here until Davarax comes back.”

One of the boys cries out in real pain and Raga’s father turns his t-visor towards them. “HEY! Calm down! The first one who breaks something on someone gets their ass kicked by me!”

Blinking, Dulsissia has to gather herself for a moment before blurting out an idea she comes up with on the spot. “How about I look after her for those hours of school? I can teach her some stuff? I mean, that would be better than her just staying at home?”

Both of Raga’s parents look at her for a second, then the mother says, with no small amount of dry disbelief; “You’d do that…?”

Raga’s father follows it up with; “Why?”

But then there is a thump and something shatters on the floor and the man stalks off inside the room. “Right. That’s it! Who did that? Get back here!”

“No killing!” Raga’s mother shouts after him before turning back to Dulsissia. “I can’t pay you.”

Dulsissia nods. “That’s fine.”

Sighing, Raga’s mother shrugs. “Sure. Fine. Go ahead.” Then there is the sound of some kind of ruckus and she mumbles that she has to go. “I said no killing! I will kick the ass of anyone who dares to die today, I am NOT cleaning that up!”

That is how Dulsissia ends up having Raga around almost as much as Din and her own son and why why she ends up approaching the last of Davarax’ children; “I need your help.”

Barthor looks up from his datapad. He’s sitting in the corner of the common room. Alone. As usual.

“With Davarax and Paz gone, I’ve promised to look after Din and Raga in addition to my own boy and I have no idea how to entertain them or what to teach them or… I need someone who knows stuff to help me set up some sort of activities so they won’t kill each other.” Dulsissia says.

Barthor lowers his datapad and smirks. “You just don’t want me to feel left out when you guys have fun.”

“That too.” Dulsissia admits. “But mostly I really do need your help. All the stuff I used to do as a kid means we have to go outside.”

Barthor considers it, then nods. “I’ll help you.”

Davarax and Paz have been gone for three months when a messenger appears on Dulsissia’s door and hands her a small box with her and the children’s names on it. It’s from Davarax.

The children all get a large lump each of what looks to be a mix of sugar and something even more sweet, to their utter delight as none of them had tried this particular kind before, and Dulsissia finds a cylinder-shaped container within the box with her name written on the lid.

Opening it, Dulsissia gingerly eases out its content into her hand and her eyes instantly well up with tears at the sight of the beautiful wildflower. She places her free hand over her mouth to muffle a faint cry of how much she misses him.

“Mom?” Corin asks, sounding anxious. “Did Davarax do something wrong?”

“No, baby.” Dulsissia whispers, placing a soft kiss on the flower’s delicate petals. “He did something perfectly right.”

After that, she gets an idea. It takes no small amount of courage, but Dulsissia scrounges together the ingredients she needs, slips her blade into her pocket, her blaster into the lining of her pants, and then she goes back up into Nevarro to sell her cookies again.

It takes her several weeks to save up the credits and another one to manage to purchase it, but finally she can gather the children in her room and tell them they are going to record a holo-message to Davarax and Paz.

The children eagerly ramble their words, simple everyday things that has happened to them, and Dulsissia wraps it up by telling Davarax and Paz that they are both sorely missed, to be careful and come back home soon. She knows Davarax will see the flower in her hair.

She packs the small holo-projector with the message into a box along with some cookies and then hands it over to the Mandalorian in charge of communication.

A couple of months later, another small box is delivered to her room and Dulsissia feels a jolt of excitement when she sees the holo-projector inside.

Dulsissia gathers the children and they all huddle together in the room to see the message.

The holo-image sputters slightly as it lights up but then stabilizes and the image of Davarax from the chest up comes into view.

“Greetings from the new Covert.” His voice declares and Dulsissia doesn’t realize she squirms with delight along with the children at the sound of him. “Thank you for the message and the cookies. It really brightened our days.” Davarax turns his visor and gestures someone over. When Paz steps into view, Raga makes a tiny sound. He looks tired, but unharmed.

“Hey.” Paz says, a little awkward, and goes silent until Davarax nudges him. “I, uh, hope you liked the sweets. They got plenty of that here. So that’s good. Uhm. Wish you guys were here.”

With that, the final words a rushed and emotional thing, Paz steps out of frame and Davarax turns back to focus on them again.

“Barthor, I’m expecting your project to be done when I get back and to see it operational. Din, I know this is tough for you, but I’m proud of you that you’re doing so well. Raga, I’ll talk to your teacher when I get back, don’t worry about it. I got your back, remember? Corin, good job, you keep looking after your mom.” Davarax then leans back a little and his voice changes tone from gentle to a far more mischievous one. “Okay, Dulcy, this is when you pause the message and usher the kids out. The rest of this message is just for you.”

Dulsissia’s hand flies out and she presses the pause button while her face flares up red.

The children all whine in disappointment, but Dulsissia shows no mercy. All she can think about is what Davarax will say. “Out. Now. Go play. Food in thirty minutes.”

“But can’t we please stay?” Corin pleads. “We won’t tell him we heard.”

Raga tilts her head, raises her eyebrows, not convinced that this isn’t something she’d like to hear.

Corin frowns while Barthor drags Raga up on her feet as well. “But… Mom doesn’t do grown-up kissy stuff.”

“Oh, sweet angel, she definitely does.” Dulsissia corrects him, gesturing for them to hurry up.

She’d feel guilty if not for the comical look of disbelief on Corin’s face as the others drag him out and how curious she is to hear what Davarax has to say.

The door has barely closed before she activates the message again.

Davarax waits a couple of seconds then he tilts his head. “They gone? Yeah? Okay.” He leans forward again. “I miss you, Dulcy. I miss you like crazy. Dez punched me twice in the head yesterday because I couldn’t focus. It’s been too long. I can’t stop thinking about you. Things haven’t gone smoothly here, like I suspected, and I fear I may shoot the next one who causes trouble and keeps me away from home. From you.” He exhales a laugh, leans back and shakes his head a little, as if he can’t believe his own words, before he focuses on her again and sits back up. “I’m running out of time on the holo, but there is one final thing I wanted to say; Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His voice is so wonderfully soft at that, before the smile returns to his voice. “I know you don’t speak Mando’a, but now you have a dictionary. You’re a clever girl, Dulcy. Look it up.”

The image flickers as he leans forward and reaches out and then he’s gone.

Heart racing, so emotional she can barely breathe, Dulsissia wants to hug the holo-projector close and cry her eyes out at the same time. She needs him back. She misses him like crazy too!

But no time to cry, she has a message to decipher.

It’s not easy juggling four children, training with Decco, sneaking up into Nevarro to sell her cookies and deal with everyday challenges as well, but it keeps her busy and prevents her from sliding into self-pity.

Plus, the challenge of Davarax’ message is a delightful distraction.

Dulsissia could just play the line for Decco, but that wouldn’t be right. His words was for Dulsissia and Dulsissia alone, so she decides to try to write down the words as she hears them and go from there.

It takes a bit of work and a bit of time, but the reward? Oh, Dulsissia can hardly believe it.

He loves her. He just told her he loves her. He will carry her in his heart forever.

The abrupt marriage proposal had seemed like a spontaneous thing, born out of residual oxytocins and the distress of having to leave, but even after telling him that can never happen; he still loves her.

Dulsissia is not proud of it, but she spends the next ten minutes just crying. She’s feeling too much and it’s the only way she knows how to deal with it. Once that is done, when she feels calmer, that’s when Dulsissia has to find some discrete way of letting him know she feels the same.

If she was a Mandalorian, she would have sent him a weapon, right? But she’s not. And he’d said he preferred her cookies anyway. So…

Dulsissia records a message with the kids, adds her own after like he’d done to her, telling him just how much she misses him too, that he has to be careful and adds the word she’d learned and rehearsed saying just for this moment; ner cyare.

And in the box, she adds a small bag with a cookie meant for Davarax alone. A cookie shaped like a blaster.

It becomes something to look forward to, something that makes the wait a little less torturous, those packages with these short messages from Davarax and Paz. Visible evidence that they’re alive and sweet, reassuring words that the connection between them all are still there.

Then comes the day when it’s been a year since Davarax and Paz left. A whole year! How is that possible? And it’s been three months since she heard from them. Decco reassures her that the two are fine, otherwise the Covert would have been buzzing with news, but still… she doesn’t like it.

The explanation comes three weeks later, when Corin and Din come running into the room and startles Dulsissia in the middle of wrapping up her wrist, still swollen and stiff after yesterday’s training accident.

“They’re back!” Corin blurts out.

“The ship just landed!” Din adds, equally excited.

“Who? What are you two talking about?” Dulsissia asks, fastening the bandage with a frown.

“Paz and Davarax, of course!” Corin shouts, as if he can’t believe he has to spell it out.

Dulsissia jolts as if someone just punched her in the stomach. She can’t breathe. They’re back?!

“We have to go meet them.” Corin says. “Right, mom?”

She automatically looks over at the mirror she can barely see in the refresher room, thinking she should pretty herself up before Davarax sees her, but Dulsissia realizes that she can’t wait. She looks back at the boys. “Get Barthor. I’ll get Raga.”

It’s not long after that that they are gathered up by the door to Nevarro, where they had said their goodbyes. The children are eerily quiet, just stares at the door, but Dulsissia can’t blame them. She is failing to find a single word of reassurance.

They wait. Seconds tick by. Minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen.

The door opens. Dez Vizla steps inside, barely deigns to send a glance their way as he walks on, and then; there he is.

Davarax appears, stepping inside and is just… there. He’s there. Real, alive, breathing, there.

The children rush forward. Dulsissia can’t move. She can’t anything. She’s frozen in place.

Crouching down, Davarax greets the children with a delighted laugh and accepts everything from hugs to semi-angry shoves for staying away so long, and only once they have started to calm down does he cautiously glance up at her.

Dulsissia tries to smile, but her stupid eyes well up with tears again.

Davarax straightens back up and walks over to her. He barely has time to open his arms before Dulsissia rushes forward and throws her arms around his neck, hugging the man with a touch of desperation. She bites her lower lip hard to hold back the sobs, just holds on tight. Dulsissia loves how his arms goes around her waist to pull her impossibly close while his helmet burrows against her neck.

For a little while, they are allowed to hold each other and linger in the realness of each other, before Dulsissia makes herself lean back a little. Her hands slide over to cup his helmet to hold him still so she can lean her forehead to his.

Davarax shivers at the contact. His arms are still not letting her back away a single inch.

They might have remained like that for ages if not for Dulsissia being distracted by Raga rushing forward with a happy sound and she looks over just in time to see the girl throw her arms around Paz and be hugged tightly in return.

Placing a hand against Davarax’ chest, Dulsissia eases herself away from him and watches the boy with no small amount of unexpected sadness.

It’s Paz, there is no doubt about that, she’d recognize him while being blindfolded, and he more than confirms it with the arms eagerly reaching out for Din and Corin and Barthor to join as well, but Dulsissia can’t help mourn the fact that she’ll never see his sweet face again.

Paz is wearing the trademark blue Vizla helmet.

That brings a lot of mixed feelings to Dulsissia, but right now she decides to focus on the fact that her two boys are finally back with them. They are alive, unharmed and back where they belong. She pushes the thoughts away and smiles at Davarax. “Welcome home.”

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Baby Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU #What if

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

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30. Scared, potter ?

Prompt used- Grabbing onto their arm | FLUFF | Draco finally reveals how he fell in love with harry | can't believe I've already reached 30 days with these prompts.

Laughter cackled into the room with people draco had enormously grown to love. It's weird how fast time flies when you are surrounded by people who care about you regardless of how many shit days you may have and draco was a happy victim of it. All his life he had never cared for anyone else, treated them as if they were nothing untill he himself felt like one of those people, what it felt like to be nothing and he hated every second of it and when finally life gave him a second chance by a simple act of fate, he rose out the person who was completely opposite of who he used to be and he was proud of it and more proud were the people who once had hated him. It was a miracle how draco was sat amongst these people now, but he could not be more happier to reach where he is today and everyone he have right now. 5 years of learning, progress, trying to clear his name, he had finally became the person he wanted to be and love, it was just a small Miracle that happened by his side, so unpredictable but exactly what he needed and if there was one person who struck through it all was none other than, harry james Potter. His so called arch nemesis.

He met harry by a very simple mistake actually. One day he was serving coffee in a muggle coffee shop to pay his rent and the next day he knew he had almost been fired for spilling coffee over someone, and obviously that someone had to be harry. They got to talking about how different lives were, how difficult and yet they had the most complex similarities. It took harry exactly 9 months and 3 days during draco's final trials to get a job for him in the auror office, claiming if they didn't take him it would one of the most stupid choice they'd ever make because they'd lose a brilliant mind. Draco's first instincts were obviously disliking harry for doing something like that for him and maintained distance as much as he could but showed his gratitude in different ways like anonymously sending harry his favourite deserts every Friday and cup of coffee every morning. It wasn't until they both had been paired up for a mission related to a death Eater that they collided once again. According to the recruiters, it was important they had someone who was familiar with the death Eater ways, draco and a person they feared the most who vanquished the dark lord, harry. One scene to another, the tension building up one day led them into fighting and eventually resulted in them not talking until during the end of the mission when Draco got fatal injury, not because of the case but because of a muggle driver basically hitting draco. Eventually harry had to assign the mission to officials under him and draco being on bed rest, since it was a muggle injury and treating it the wizarding ways could've possibly been a hindrance in his 100 percent recovery.

And now this is where they are, sitting on top of the grimauld place, on its roof , lit up by almost 70 golden fairy lights, sheltered by a silver tent with a bunch of their friends and families assembled for the rehearsal dinner, or so the muggle called. It was just a last party from harry potter and draco malfoy.

Neville clinked his work lightly on his champagne glass raising it " Time for toast"

Draco cleared his throat grabbing attention from everyone across the table. Harry looked at him, bewildered since he definitely didn't knew Draco planned this.

" I'd like to take a few moments from all of you for this. I- I am blessed to have you all in my life and I met most of you when my life hit rock bottom and through it all, you guys have supported me unconditionally and I'm forever in debt for that"

They all raised their glasses in appreciation.

" and to you harry, tomorrow morning I will be pronouncing my vows and I know we've practically written them together, I can assure you no words are ever enough to what I feel for you. I've met you by a simple act of fate and it is my choice to choose my destiny to spend the rest of my life loving you just like you love me.

I met harry 6 years 3 months and exactly 25 days ago. I was merely counting the days of my life to make it through all of it and by far that day had been a huge blessing. A lot of you have asked me when did I realise I was in love with him and I've Always said that it was somewhere along the way but the truth is I have been saving this answer my whole life for this specific day. 3 years ago when I got hit by a car and had stitches up and down my body, 2 fractures and almost a broken nose, thank goodness for that though, I love my nose, harry being the absolute gentlemen he is, dropped the damn case to take care of my lousy ass. So this one day during my 1 month bed rest, harry had been late and I was absolutely glad he was because of ego issues, I heard my bell rang, I got up and took sometime to reach the door and by the time I had even checked who it was, the person had left, leaving a parcel in my letter box. Being me, I went downstairs to pick it up and just as I started to go back upstairs, a floor below mine I almost rolled down the stairs and guess who was the knight in shining armour, harry. He ranted the hell out of me for choosing to do that and simply grabbed my hand, put it around his neck and carried me back up. The entire day he kept bashing on about what would've happened if he wasn't there. That's when I fell In love. It wasn't magical or something as people describe it, I felt what I had been deprived of my whole life, care and love. The way he just went on and on about it, just showed me how much he cared and the same exact night he stayed over claiming he is never leaving my fucking ass alone, guess he took that too seriously by the way, I fell in love that night of him scolding me. And that's the answer I've saved up all these years. And I'm pretty sure harry is still never leaving my fucking ass alone if in future I get injured, just the consequences and situations would be far different " and draco raised his glass again.

" to harry and draco " Ron grinned, his arms wrapped around Blaise's waist.

" to harry and draco " everyone cheered

" to us " they silently whispered smiling at each other, with a look in their eyes, that was simply just their own, their love.

" I actually can't believe you took an entire minute to make this speech with basically no phrases such as electricity running through or how admirable harry looked. I means it's all sorta sparky " Ron joked. A few people around him laughed too including harry and draco.

As time went on, when everyone was almost done with dinner and simply hanging away slow dancing, chatting, making jokes, harry intertwined his fingers with those of draco's under the table and rested his head against draco's shoulder. Draco looked on his side to see his fiance finding his comfort in his neck. Smiling to himself, draco pressed a long kiss on top of Harry's head, bringing their hands to his lips and kissing over Harry's knuckles before resuming laughing at yet another one of Ron's jokes.

By midnight everyone had started to go downstairs in the house to crash over and a few of them leaving. Finishing up with the cleaning harry and draco too finally departed to their seperate bedrooms as per before marriage rituals. It was almost half an hour later when Draco heard a soft knock on his door. He opened the door cautiously to find harry standing there with a small smile.

" breaking the rules as usual " draco smirked as he turned around to let harry in behind him.

" well, that's just who I am. Besides your room have a nice balcony. Could use it " harry said as he shut the door softly and followed draco.

Draco finally turned smiling at his fiance, just staring at harry until he pulled them into the balcony, letting the moon wash over their bodies, making Harry's eyes sparkle more and draco's hair looking softer than usual.

" can you actually believe, we're getting married in less than 24 hours " draco said as he looked at the sky.

" it doesn't seem so different, does it ?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to draco and grabbing his hands to intertwine their fingers again.

" it doesn't " draco smiled as he kissed Harry's forehead. He too smiled at Draco and finally hugged draco, his arms hanging loosely around his waist , his head rested against draco's chest to hear the faint loveliest sound of his heartbeat. Draco put his chin on top of Harry's head, his arms too hanging loosely around Harry's back and just staying there like that.

" can I ask you something ?" Harry finally asked after moments of silence while watching the moon, different memories, different thoughts running in their own heads.

Draco hummed in response. Harry looked up at Draco, staring blankly as if he was trying to find something, but there was no freckle or a mole or anything left on draco's face yet for him to discover. He knew Draco better than he knew himself and it was just a small proud achievement.

" during that speech, you said something about saving your answer for this day, did you know we'd ever reach this far ?"

Draco pouted looking behind harry deciding on how to phrase it.

" I didn't. If this were to ever end, the secret would've died with me but I knew the only time I'd ever reveal it would the day before our marriage. And I did "

" so you Always wanted to get married ?"harry asked curiously in a Playful way.

" I think yeah. I never had anything close to having what we have, I'd had been a fool not to imagine whatever comes next " draco smiled at harry fondly, his hands tightening around his waist.

Harry looked at Draco amazed. Despite being together for so long, being with each other was Always a different adventure each day and this was their kind of adventure.

" when did you knew you loved me ?" Draco finally asked not looking away from harry.

" well- I think it was during the time you joined DMLE. Those deserts every Friday and the cup of coffee, they had the same handwriting on the Little notes you put into the desert box and on the coffee cup, I knew they were from you long before you told me, courtesy of stalking you all around 6th year "

" So you were obsessed with me " draco teased smirking.

" whatever helps you sleep at night " harry chuckled before he pressed his head against draco's chest again and stayed there in silence until harry had finally gone to his own bedroom, as silently as he had came.

The next day when harry and Draco finally stood against each other on the alter, after the vows, the ring ceremony, the speeches, the minister finally claimed

" I now pronounce you husband and husband, you may kiss each other "

Harry smirked at Draco holding his hands

" scared potter ?"

" you wish, Malfoy " draco smirked back.

And then they kissed, promising an eternity of love that even this life wasn't enough..

Requests open. This might be one of my favourite ones.

Day 29- sweet, sexy and practically fainting | Day 31- would you come back to me

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prettyboyjackhughes · 3 years

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-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 1]

It’s finally here! @workhorsefromwhitehorse24 and I have been working on this for a while now and I can honestly say that this is probably my favorite thing we’ve collaborated on! This was a little outside my comfort zone but I enjoyed writing it so much! Hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!!

“Ava Grace I’m home!” Dad calls from downstairs. I sit up and grab my sweatshirt off of the floor.

“Coming!” I say as I pull it over my head and run out into the hall. I attempt to make it down the stairs without dying but almost fail as I get to the bottom step. “Whoops! Sorry!” I yell as I knock one of the pictures off the wall. He stands in the kitchen doorway and watches me, amused, as I fix the picture then turn to face him, a grin on my face. He had been gone for 2 weeks on a 5 game road trip, resulting in the Penguins going 4-1. Dad scored a pair of goals in the first two games. But sadly, it wasn’t enough of a push to get them to the playoffs.

“Hi Daddy!” I say, running to hug him. He lifts me off the ground and kisses the top of my head. Dad and I have always been super close. It’s been just him and I for years. Ever since I was born, it’s just been Dad and I. Grandma and Grandpa were always in the picture too, along with Aunt Taylor. The 4 of them have been my entire world and my family for the past 17 years. My mom has never been in the picture since she and Dad had me when they were super young, before Dad was in the NHL. Dad had moved from Nova Scotia by himself when he was 15, down to Faribault, Minnesota. Mom and Dad met within his first week of school. Dad tells me I look just like her but from what I can tell, the older I get, the more I look like Dad. But basically one thing turned to another, Dad had his first taste of freedom, being away from his parents and all, and 9 months later, I was born. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa found out, they moved Taylor and everything else down to be with my dad and help out with me. But one Saturday, Mom dropped me off with Dad and told him she had decided she wanted more than raising a baby and my dad so she left me with Dad and left. I’ve never heard from her, except for one birthday card when I turned 6. Grandma and Grandpa raised me alongside Taylor until Dad’s first season in the NHL. That’s when he moved me to Pittsburgh with him. I mean, before he was in the NHL, he made sure that he was a part of my life and made sure I knew that I was his little girl. But it hasn’t really been that big of a deal that Mom hasn’t been in the picture since I’ve had Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Taylor, plus all of Dad’s teammates through the years. It’s been a ride, having a dad like I do. I mean, he’s pretty much the face of the NHL and one of the greatest players to ever play hockey, being Sidney Crosby and all. Everywhere we go, he gets recognized so it was always hard for him to come to my things as I was growing up. But he always made sure that someone was there for me, whether it was one of my grandparents or Aunt Taylor. But even through all of that, my dad is my best friend. I’ve never needed anyone else.

“I missed you so much!” He says, setting me down and looking at me. I smile and nod.

“I missed you too! Nice set of goals by the way. Sorry about the playoffs...” I say, smiling as he walks into the kitchen. He shrugs as I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at the table, watching him wander around the kitchen, making one of his shakes he always drinks.

“It was a long two weeks for sure, but I’m glad I have you to come home too.” I nod and smile.

“Oh Sweetheart, before I forget, we’re going up to Toronto next weekend for the Leafs’ first playoff game, for your birthday. We’ll spend two weeks up in Toronto.” The Penguins missed out on the playoffs, ending their season early. But my Leafs made it to the first round of the playoffs. He smiles as my face lights up. The Toronto Maple Leafs are my favorite team. As disappointed as Dad was in me when he found out, he still supports it, just happy that I like hockey. My favorite player is Mitch Marner, which is a player Dad approves of. He raised me on the ice, around his team and made sure I loved hockey as much as he does. I played for 6 years but I decided I liked watching hockey better than playing.

“Really? We are?” I say, giddy.

“Yep, I think Tanger and Geno are going to come with us. I invited Taylor too, figured we could make a whole vacation of the trip. We can go out to dinner, shopping, all the fun, girly stuff you love. Oh and there’s a surprise flying out to see you too.” Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin are Dad’s alternate captains and my honorary uncles. Up until about 4 years ago, I had 3 honorary uncles. Marc-André Fleury, the Penguins' goalie and now the Vegas Golden Knights’ goalie was the third. He and Dad are still close which means he still claims the third honorary uncle spot. When he got married in 2012, I was the flower girl. I’ve actually been in all 3 of my “uncle’s” weddings. They’ve been a huge part of my life since I was little, even when Dad was trying to keep me out of the spotlight. I smile, pushing my hair out of my face. I think the thing that everyone always finds so interesting about Dad and I, is that he did such a good job keeping me out of the spotlight up until I was old enough to understand what was going on. But as soon as I started going to events with him, everyone knew I was his daughter. I mean, I look and act like a female version of Dad so it makes perfect sense that I’m his daughter.

“Ava girl, do you want to see if one of your friends wants to come with us? Might be a little boring to spend your birthday weekend with a bunch of old people.” Dad says, finally sitting down with his gross shake. I nod and laugh, thinking of who I could invite. I go to Shady Side Academy in downtown Pittsburgh, which is a big, fancy private school. There’s a little over 1,100 kids that go to my school, but only about 70 of them are in my grade.

“Oh, I’ll invite Carter. Let me text her and see if she can go.” Carter James has been my best friend since 2nd grade. She’s my total opposite and somehow, it works.

“Okay Honey. I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Our flight left pretty early this morning so I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and order something for dinner. Anything but pizza please.” I pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out. He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of my head as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I walk out to the living room and flop on the couch, getting on my phone to watch Tik Tok for a while. Suddenly, the door to the house flies open and my Aunt Taylor waltzes in.

“Hello my absolute favorite niece in the entire world!” She calls, dumping her purse and everything in her hands onto the bench by the door. Grandma decorated the entire house. Dad was going to hire a decorator but Grandma insisted and somehow, Dad ended up liking what she did with the place.

“I’m your only niece so I hope I’m your favorite. But hey Aunt Tay. What’s up?” I asked, sitting up.

“Nothing much. Just came home to drive my big brother crazy and talk about your birthday trip with you. How excited are you? Hey wait, isn’t it your 18th birthday?” I smile and nod again. Aunt Tay is a little scatterbrained and once forgot how old I was turning and bought me a 13th birthday card. I was turning 11. But of course, she always means well and loves me a ton.

“Carter is coming with us. Do you know what the surprise is? Dad just told me there is one but didn’t say anything else.” Taylor grins as she nods.

“I’m not telling you but just know this, you’re gonna be really really excited.” She says, sitting down on the couch by my feet.

“So how’s things at school? Still thinking about going to UPenn?” She asks, tapping her thumb against my knee. I sigh.

“Ugh I don’t know anymore. I fell in love with UPenn when I visited there with Grandma last fall but I don’t know if I want to be that far away from everyone. I mean, it’s only 4 hours but going from how things are now to that? That’s a lot to process.” She nods, watching me.

“Well Honey, you know your dad would make sure you had a car on campus and everything. So you can always come back home and visit. But I mean, it’s been you and your dad since you were a baby. Maybe it’s time to go out on your own a little?” I cringe a little at the thought.

“I don’t wanna leave!” I say, falling into Taylor’s lap and drawing out the end of the word. She laughs and smooths my hair down.

“We’ll figure something out. You’ve still got time, Ava Grace.” She says and somehow, those words make all the anxiety I have about college and everything else coming up in my future fade to a dull roar instead of the screams it has been for the past couple weeks. I’ve always been able to talk to Dad about anything which is why he and I have such a good relationship now. But the one thing I haven’t been able to talk to him about is college. Dad went straight from high school into the NHL. He always claims to understand but I’m pretty sure it just confuses him sometimes.

“Okay you two, it’s very hard to sleep when all I can hear is laughing and carrying on.” Dad says, coming back downstairs.

“Yeah yeah, keep it down, Patrick.” Taylor says, looking up at Dad. Dad hates being called by his middle name which is why Taylor calls him that. He rolls his eyes and bats her hand away as she reaches up to poke him. When the two of them are together, Grandma always says they act like they did when they were little.

“Have you girls figured out everything for us leaving on Thursday? Ava, is Carter going with us?” I grab my phone off the arm of the couch and turn it on, quickly reading the notifications on the screen.

“Yeah she’s going. And she’s gonna be here in 3, 2, 1!” I count down as the door bursts open again. Carter and my Aunt Taylor are two peas in a pod. They’re practically the same person which is why I love them both so much.

“Hello Crosby family!” She shouts, sliding across the floor and landing on top of me.

“Oh this is going to be a long two weeks.” Dad says, laughing and rubbing his forehead.

“So we’re going to Toronto for your 18th birthday? And to see the love of your life? Hell yeah this is going to be a great trip.” Carter says, looking up at me.

“Okay, Carter James, slow down please.” I say, patting her head.

“Wait, isn’t the legal drinking age in Canada, 18?” Carter asks, sitting up and looking at Dad.

“Oh my God Sidney Patrick. You’re taking your daughter to Canada to drink for her 18th birthday?” Taylor says, looking over at Dad with a smirk on her face.

“Taylor Jane, you’d better cut it out or you’re not going anymore.” He says, shaking his finger at her. Carter and I laugh and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“She’s responsible enough to handle this. You two are the ones I have to worry about.” Dad says, pointing at Carter and Aunt Taylor.

“Tanger and Geno are going too? Oh this is going to be a blast!” Taylor says, rubbing her hands together and grinning evilly. Dad’s head drops into his hands and the 3 of us burst out laughing. Carter and I spend the rest of the evening planning our trip out while Dad and Aunt Taylor watch the St. Cloud game. The week leading up to our trip to Toronto flies by, but my excitement for the game only builds. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a Leafs game, nor is it the first time I’ve gotten to watch my favorite player play. But it’s happening on my 18th birthday and that makes it even more exciting.

Thursday morning, two days before my birthday, Carter wakes me up by bouncing on my bed.

“We’re leaving today!” She sings, bouncing more. I roll over and groan.

“Carter James, it’s too early!” I say, shoving her. She laughs at me and I sit up.

“Come on, we’re going to dinner with the love of your life tonight!” She says. I jump out of bed and look at her, eyes wide. I’m 100% a Mitch Marner fan girl. Carter thinks it’s hilarious but she’s the exact same way for Patrick Kane. We ran into him at the Stanley Cup Finals one year and she was speechless.

“What are you talking about? Dinner with who?” I ask. Dad walks in and is now standing in my doorway.

“I called in a few favors and we’re going to dinner with Mitch Marner and Morgan Rielly tonight. How does that sound?” He says, as my mouth drops open.

“Oh my God thank you thank you Daddy!” I say, running over to hug him. He smiles and Carter laughs.

“She’s gonna faint as soon as she sees him. Total freak out.” Carter says, crossing her arms and laughing.

“I am not! I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just another hockey player. Not like I’m in love with him or anything.” I say, pointing at her. She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.

“Where my favorite birthday girl?” I hear a deep voice call from downstairs.

“Geno, it’s too early for you to be this loud. Shut up.” I hear Taylor say.

“I take it G and Tanger just got here?” Dad calls and Taylor groans in response.

“Alright girls get ready and we’ll leave in a little over an hour. Go down and say hi to everyone first though.” I nod and follow Dad downstairs, Carter tagging along behind me.

“Hi Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris!” I say, running to hug both of them as they stand up from where they were sitting on the couch. Taylor is taking up the other end of the couch, facedown in a pillow. “Are you excited for your birthday trip?” Kris asks, patting my back as he hugs me.

“I’m so excited. Do you know what my surprise is? Dad still won’t tell me.” Geno laughs, still too loud for Taylor apparently because a pillow goes flying across the room and just misses his head.

“Tay, go drink some coffee please, you’re being a brat right now.” Dad says, patting her head.

“I know surprise. You like a lot.” Geno says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I raise an eyebrow. I’ve been the victim of one of Dad’s surprises before and let’s just say he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to surprises.

“Is it bad that I’ve been your best friend for 12 years and I still can’t understand what he’s saying?” Carter asks, leaning over to me. I laugh and Geno looks between the two of us.

“Who you? You Ava’s best friend?” Carter rolls her eyes and nudges Geno, who laughs again and hugs her. “Alright, Little Crosby, let’s get this show on the road.” Kris says, pointing towards the stairs. I smile and rush upstairs to get dressed and grab my bags. I pick out a pair of black leggings and a peach colored Adidas sweatshirt. I change into the clothes and put my pajamas in the dirty clothes. I put on mascara quickly, finishing everything off with some lip gloss. I grab my Birkenstocks and slip them on.

“Okay, I’m ready!” I call as I drag my bag down the stairs behind me. I again attempt not to die on my way down the stairs. But yet again, I fail.

“Oh God, Little Crosby.” Kris says, somehow managing to catch me as I trip down the last 3 steps.

“Your daughter is a human wrecking ball. You know that, right Sid?” Dad laughs and nods.

“I haven’t killed myself yet. So far, we’re safe.” Everyone laughs and I smile. All these people filling this house are my entire family. They’ve raised me and I wouldn’t be who I am without all of them.

“Okay, let’s get going! Our flight leaves in 45 minutes!” Dad calls, attempting to herd us all towards the door. Taylor has finally had her coffee and returned to the world of the living.

“Toronto here we come!” She calls as we all get out the door and into the two cars we’re taking. Dad locks the door behind us and turns to look at me.

“You excited, Ava Grace?” I nod and he hugs me to his side.“I hope this lives up to your idea of the perfect 18th birthday.” I laugh and nod again as we head to his car.

The drive to the airport and the flight to Toronto are pretty boring but Kris and Taylor keep everyone entertained the whole trip. Carter finally crashed after the Red Bulls she had while we were waiting for our flight to get called in the airport, leaving me to my own thoughts pretty much the entire flight. When we land in Toronto, everyone is pretty excited for the next two weeks.

“Little Crosby surprise time!” Geno calls from the back of our group.

“Geno, we’re still in an airport. Keep it down a little please?” Carter says, patting his arm. Dad scoffs and looks between me and Carter.

“He’s right though, your surprise is right through those doors.” Dad says, pointing towards the exit of the airport. I see Taylor pull her phone out of her pocket and start recording me. I hand my bag to Kris and look over at Geno who motions me towards the door. I walk towards the doors, which slide open. I glanced around then back at Dad and Taylor who followed me out.

“Little Crosby!” I hear a very familiar voice yell over the buzz of the airport.

“Oh my God! Uncle Flower!” I shout, rushing towards my uncle Marc and hugging him.

“Surprise!” Dad calls, smiling as I hug Marc.

“So you were my surprise?” I say, stepping back and looking at him.

“Yep, I was the big wonderful surprise. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.” He says, smiling as his arm rests around my shoulders.

“I figured you’d want all of your uncles here for your big 18th birthday. So we worked it out and got him here for you.” I smile, quickly hugging Dad before returning to hug Marc again.

“Alright well, it’s time to get heading to the hotel. We’re going to dinner at 6:30 tonight. Geno, Flower and Kris are taking Tay to something that I know nothing about. And you’re okay with Carter going with us?” I nod as Marc leads us and the rest of our group to the waiting van.

“I’m taking a nap when we get to the hotel. You woke me up too early this morning.” I say, nudging Carter as she slides into the van next to me.

“Sounds like a plan. The Red Bull ran out.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder. The two of us manage to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive to the hotel. Geno shakes us both awake when we get to the hotel. We sleepily wander into the hotel and wait in the lobby while Dad and Tay get everything figured out. The adults herd us all over to the elevator and into it, somehow managing to get us all to the conjoined rooms we have for the next two weeks. As soon as we make it into the rooms, Carter and I collapse onto the bed we’ll be sharing and fall asleep.

About 2 and a half hours later, Dad comes in and wakes us up.

“Girls, we have about an hour before we have to leave for dinner. Go ahead and start getting ready.” He calls as he closes the door behind him. I sit up and stretch, the excitement building in my chest all over again.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna curl my hair and wear that frilly, layered red skirt with the white sweater and my little brown boots. What about you, Carter?” I ask, looking back at her who is still laying in bed.

“So I have to dress nice right? I think the army green pants romper thing with my jean jacket, Vans and straight hair. Sound good?” She asks, finally sitting up. I nod and get started curling my hair. She gets started on doing her makeup while I work on my hair. Somehow, we both end up being done with plenty of time left to spare. So we do what typical teenagers do and spend the extra 15 minutes we have, on our phones. Dad comes in and the two of us follow him down to the elevator and out to the car. It’s some super nice, fancy car; just like the one that lives in our garage except on home game days. Dad lets Carter play music which automatically, I can tell, he regrets as Cotton Eye Joe plays for the third time. Carter is having the time of her life and I can’t help but laugh along with her. When we get to the restaurant, it’s one Dad and I came to, back when we came to Toronto for some charity event a few years ago.

“Alright, how excited are you?” Dad asks, as he parks the car and we climb out. I squeal a little and Carter laughs. Dad smiles, draping his arm around my shoulders as I link arms with Carter. The 3 of us waltz into the restaurant and walk up to the hostess.

“Hello, Mr. Crosby. Your two guests are already seated.” I squeeze Carter’s arm and we squeal a little together. As we follow the hostess to our table, back in the back, we pass a table with two teenage boys. One looks Carter up and down, obviously checking her out, while the other locks eyes with me. I smile, forcing myself to look away as we disappear into the back, private room Dad reserved for us.

“Holy crap, did you see those guys?” Carter whisper-yells into my ear. I nod, trying to focus on the fact that Mitch Marner is standing a few feet away from me, a grin on his face, instead of the guy I just saw.

“Hey Sid. This must be Ava and Carter. Nice to meet you girls.” Mitch says, reaching his hand out. I shake it, the smile on my face impossibly large. Morgan Rielly stands next to him and shakes our hands as well. As we all sit down, I happen to glance around the room and see that both of the boys are looking into the room. As much as I want to pay attention to what Mitch, Mo and Dad are talking about, I can’t. I’m too distracted by the boy I saw. Carter, apparently can’t either.

“Ava, they were literally so hot. Can I please go get their numbers?” She asks, nudging me when she catches me staring again.

“No! Dad will kill me if he catches me talking to a boy!” I whisper-yell, glancing up at Dad and Mitch.

“Ava Grace, that could be your freaking soulmate and you’ll never know because you won’t let me go get their numbers!” I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder at the boys’ table. Sadly, they’re gone and I sigh, looking over at Carter.

“They’re gone anyway. Not like we’re ever gonna see them again anyways.” I say, glumly, resting my chin on my hand. She shakes her head. “There went your soulmate.” I sigh, knowing she won’t let me live this down. Dad clears his throat, pulling Carter and I back to the conversation happening at the table.

“So Ava, I hear you’re a pretty big fan of mine.” Mitch says, leaning on his elbows against the table. I smile, taking in all of his features.

“Yeah, you’ve been my favorite since you came into the league. Dad’s always a little disappointed when I don’t tell people he’s my favorite player.” Mitch and Mo laugh. The rest of the evening, conversation flows easily and Carter and I both have a blast. As I glance at my Apple watch and see the time, Carter nudges me again.

“Your dad is looking at you funny.” She says, nodding her head towards Dad. I look up, my eyes meeting my dad’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, are you girls ready to head back to the hotel? Your aunt and uncles should be getting back soon too.” Carter and I nod and I turn to look at Mitch.

“I’ll be wearing your jersey on Saturday night. Don’t disappoint me. Also it’s my birthday so a goal or two would be nice.” Mitch and Mo laugh as Dad smiles down at me.

“I will try my hardest. Glad we could spend the evening with you lovely ladies. See you on Saturday after the game? There’ll be passes for your whole group at the ticket desk.” My face lights up and I know Carter’s does too.“Okay great! See you then! Good luck!” I say, standing and hugging Mitch. Mo shakes Dad’s hand and then the two of them head out.

“You two seemed very distracted all during dinner. Was everything okay?” Dad asks as the 3 of us head back out to the car after he pays.“Yeah everything was fine. Dinner was super good and fun. Carter just saw some cute boy and wouldn’t shut up about him.” Dad laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, in my defense, your daughter was looking too so it wasn’t just me.” Carter says, crossing her arms. Dad’s head whips around as we climb in the car.

“A boy? What?” I groan internally and elbow Carter. I’ve never been that into boys. I mean, I’ve thought plenty of boys were cute and had quite a few guy friends but I’ve never had the time or the effort that comes with having a relationship. So it’s never been a topic of conversation for Dad and I.

“Nothing, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I say, trying to avoid the topic.

“It’s interesting though. I was just talking to your uncle Kris about how you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that. Which is fine with me because I know what boys are like.” Dad says as we drive back to the hotel. Carter is dying sitting next to me, her hand pressed against her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“I-I know...I’ve just never had the time or wanted one.” I say, burying my head in my hands.

“Well you don’t need one. You have all the guys you need in your life. Me, your Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris, Uncle Marc, and Grandpa.” Carter finally bursts out laughing and Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me.

“I’m serious, Ava Grace. Why do you need a boyfriend?” Dad has never really been the overprotective dad. He’s protective for sure but he kind of lets me do my own thing most of the time. He knows if I need to, I’ll come to him or one of the other main adults in my life. But he lets me make my own decisions and figure life out by myself. This whole ‘no boyfriend’ thing that he’s doing right now is new.

“I guess I don’t. You’re right.” I say, putting an end to the conversation by turning and looking out the window. Thankfully, Dad doesn’t push any farther. The 3 of us ride in silence, the radio off, the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once we get into the hotel and up to our rooms, I tell Dad goodnight, give him a hug and a kiss then follow Carter into our room. Carter distracts me from the disaster of a conversation that was with Dad and forces me to watch some cheesy rom-com with her. I fall asleep midway through and sleep in late the next day. Taylor takes Carter and I out shopping all day on Friday while my dad and the uncles do who knows what. The topic of boys is avoided all day, All night at dinner on Friday, we catch up with everyone. I fill Marc in on what Dad’s latest old person moment was, even though he’s only 33. Everything seems so perfect and happy but I keep replaying the conversation with Dad over and over again in my head.

Saturday morning, my birthday morning, Carter wakes me up with cake in bed. It’s a tradition we started when we were 12. Every year on our birthday, the other girl brings the birthday girl cake in bed. It’s one of my favorite birthday traditions.

“Happy birthday Little Crosby! You are adult now!” Geno calls, leading the rest of my family into my room. Dad brings up the end of the line and walks over to the bed. He hugs me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.“Happy birthday my sweet girl.” He says, smoothing my hair down and getting all teary-eyed.

“I can’t believe the young lady you’ve grown into. You are beautiful, strong, independent and so responsible. I...I didn’t think things would end up this way, especially with your mom not being in the picture. But I look around you and I see all these people who helped raise you and I know, you’ve turned out more than okay. I love you Ava Grace and will always love you. Happy birthday.” Dad says. I take another bite of the cake Carter brought me and smile up at him.

“I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for everything. Thank you everyone for everything you’ve done for me. I love all of you.” They all share a sappy smile and I keep eating my cake. The rest of the day, we hang out at the hotel, lounging around before the game tonight at 7. Marc and Geno see how many pieces of pizza they can eat while Dad keeps score. Taylor paints Carter’s nails and I pick at mine. Kris sneaks out to buy me ice cream and comes back with at least 10 different kinds, all of them my favorite in one way or another.

Carter and I start getting ready around 4:30 so we’re ready to leave by 5. I straighten my hair and do just light makeup. I dig my Mitch Marner jersey out of my bag and put it on with some black leggings. Carter wears the jersey of the only Leaf she likes, Frederik Andersen. She opted for black ripped jeans instead of leggings. Everyone else is just dressed casual. Marc did wear a Leafs hat just to please me. The drive to the arena, Carter gets to play music again. She plays our ‘Hockey Game Hype Up’ playlist, something we made a few years ago. Even though I’m the music person, she’s much better at putting playlists together. I’m only really good at finding one or two songs I love and just playing them over and over again. As the songs ‘Auston Matthews’ by Svdvm and ‘Toronto Maple Leafs Anthem’ by JDME play back to back, we pull into the arena parking lot. No matter how many times I’ve been to Scotiabank Arena, it never ceases to amaze me. I think I’ve been here a grand total of like 15 times in the last 10 years, solidifying it as my favorite arena.

“Come on Ava, let’s go watch your boy play.” Carter says, linking her arm through mine. She leads me and the rest of our group into the arena. Everyone else heads to the box but I decide to stay down in the main area and wander around a bit, making sure I get the full experience again. All around me, Leafs fans are hurrying to one place or another. I take everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of my life. As I’m walking down a small set of stairs, I collide with a pretty solid body. And of course, with my human wrecking ball abilities, I manage to take both of us down, all the way to the ground. “Shit! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I ask, sitting up and looking at the boy I collided with. He sits up, looks at me, down at the ground, then back up at me. His eyes are huge.

“I-Oh my God. Yeah-Yeah I’m okay! Are you?” He asks, jumping to his feet and reaching his hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Yeah I’m all good. Sorry for taking you out. I’m known for being clumsy. Like the jersey by the way.” I say, pointing to where the number 16 is stitched into the arm of his jersey. The same number sprawled across my back.

“Hey, I like yours too. Marner your favorite player?” I nod, pushing my hair back out of my face.

“Yeah, I grew up a Penguins fan because of my dad but the Leafs are my favorite team.” He smiles and nods. He looks so familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Talking to him comes so naturally and it seems like the world just goes on around us while we stand there and talk. Before I know it, they’re starting the lineup announcements.

“Oh shoot, I gotta get going. Enjoy the game!” I call over my shoulder as I run back towards the box we’re all sitting in. Of course, I trip up the steps and almost fall. As I glance over my shoulder, I see the boy with a smirk on his face. I blush and mentally kick myself for first off accidentally tackling a cute boy then tripping and almost falling in front of him. As I rush back into the box, Dad eyes me with a raised eyebrow. I huff and flop into my seat next to Marc and Carter. Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye and smirks.

“Why are you all red and bothered about?” I bite my lip and Marc looks over at me.“I accidentally tackled a cute boy…” I say, burying my head in my hands. Carter and Marc laugh and Marc pats my back.

“There there, Little Crosby. I did much worse to your aunt Véronique.” I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. Geno and Kris are behind us, teasing Taylor as Dad watches what’s going on down on the ice. His hand is resting on my shoulder, absentmindedly squeezing and releasing in a protective way. As I sit there, watching the game, all I can think about is the boy. But as I do, I think about the conversation Dad and I had last night in the car. Did he really mean what he said? Would he really get upset if I did ever decide to have a boyfriend?

#sidney crosby #dylan cozens #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #Dylan Cozens imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey #hockey boys

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parcoeurs · 3 years

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Extremely fascinated by your wag AU tag 👀.

thanks bestie so am i.

okay lmao so this isn't an actual fic that'll ever be written but. i was talking to my friend about it who still hasn't finished dts season 3 unfortunately but it means that i've switched around ages and years etc. i promise this has the potential to be a fun and sexy time but there's just s o much background shit that needs to be discussed. tw for mentions of irl deaths etc:

but pierre & charles meeting when they're 5-6 (which is what i think charles actually says irl but someone said it might've been closer to when they were 10-11? regardless.) and charles' dad passes away when they're 9-10, and jules when they're 13-14 and charles quits racing then. (fyi i know that irl jules passed away first)

he thinks about quitting when his dad passes away but keeps going with help from jules. so when the accident etc happens, it's not even like an active decision he ponders. he just knows there's no way he'll race again.

and pierre's been with him throughout everything, his best friend who he can talk to when he can't bear looking at his own family. so he doesn't understand when pierre tells him he's going to keep racing. when charles had told him he was never going to get into a kart ever again, pierre had nodded, grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. important to note that they're barely teenagers rn so yes charles feels betrayed that pierre isn't feeling the same things he is and isn't choosing the same future for himself etc.

they have a huge fight, lots of crying, lots of dramatic teenage angst. but it ultimately ends with charles shutting pierre out of his life. which is easier said than done when it's your best friend whose family is super close with yours. but it works because pierre is off racing around the world and charles has done all he can to never have to think about that stuff.

so charles goes to school, is doing uni somewhere in europe. studies something generic like business or maybe if i'm feeling suuuuper indulgent i will have him major in environmental studies like moi <3 pointedly does not come to monaco during grand prix weekend or the week before or the week after.

and then anthoine passes away too. (they're 20-21 now)

they see each other again at the funeral but don't talk, they meet up afterwards. pierre breaking down in charles' arms, clutching at his back, telling him he was right. pierre should've quit, he can't do this anymore either. they haven't said a word to each other in 7 years but charles still knows pierre, and knows that this isn't actually what pierre wants. or what he should do. (charles vaguely knows pierre's in f1 but doesn't know he's with redbull, doesn't know redbull's the top team etc)

"you can still do this, you will," charles tells him.

"not without you again."

so then comes the challenge of mending their relationship while still working through the shared trauma, and the Layers of past trauma. and also just the general awkwardness that comes with a friendship breakup/makeup situation you know! they can't just act like nothing happened but would it be easier that way?

they start texting first, then they play fifa or cod together. (sometimes pierre's british friend lewis joins too.)

slowly slowly slowly, they become friends again and then inseparable too. maybe even closer than they were before and charles only now realizes how much he missed pierre. while pierre still can't believe he has charles back now, it's as good as he let himself imagine.

the part i'm unsure about is if i would want pierre's career trajectory to be the same or not. because i think the demotion adds SUCH a painful but interesting aspect to his ~storyline. but ultimately i think maybe he just doesn't get the second seat immediately. spends more years with toro rosso/alpha tauri before getting "called up" (sorry i have no idea what the proper terminology is haha ignore the nba/nhl terms).

he invites charles to his first race in the red bull and charles says no. immediately. pierre's quiet on the other side of the phone, internally thinking he messed this up somehow. he thought things were going well and he takes this as charles doesn't want to see him. but he knows there's a lot more that's stopping charles and he also knows charles will definitely pull back if pierre asks about the other stuff. so he moves right along, asking charles about school, the weather, and tries not to let it show in his voice that he misses his best friend and needs him too.

"i'm going to try to watch," charles says, after pierre's yawned goodnight through the phone and is waiting for him to hang up. because you know pierre's not going to hang up first.

"what?"

"the race. i'm going to try. goodnight!" mentally charles slams the phone shut but really he just smashes at the red button before shoving it under his bed and looking at his hands trying to get answers for what he just did.

his only relief is that he didn't promise pierre he would watch, just that he would try. couldn't even choke out a, "good luck." (insert long paragraph about charles letting pierre down or thinking he has).

he only watches qualifying. pierre p3. already knows on saturday that there's no way he can watch the actual race.

but on sunday when he's supposed to be going over his notes for his climate change science & policy course (yes.... i did it...) he finds himself with his heart in his mouth refreshing formula1 dot com. watches the random names move up and down while keeping his eyes on 10 - gasly. (starts shaking for a second when he sees pierre's name drop until the IN PIT sign comes up across his name. fellas the thing about triggers is-- anyways.)

the scariest part is that by the time he's scrolled through all of red bull's socials to look at pictures of pierre on the podium (he finished p2 sorry i know this truly does not matter), he's forgotten about the race. the anxiety sits small in the back of his throat, his happiness for pierre is bright and loud in front of him. charles sends him a message, asking him to call whenever he can and adds a blue & red heart emoji which feels like a Big Step. but basically pierre calls and acts like nothing has happened since the last time they talked. mentions the breakfast he had in detail as if he didn’t get a podium in his first race with red bull. finally with a big team. but charles embarrassingly realizes that maybe his text didn't exactly imply in literally any way whatsoever that he knows the results of the race and was trying to congratulate pierre with this call. charles probably feels so embarrassed at this point but somehow still can't manage to say anything about the race until the next day maybe.

maybe texts pierre, good job. or, you were great. or something about him and not the race. or maybe reposts a picture from red bull but not one of pierre in his car, pointedly. only one of him on the podium. and pierre probably reposts it with the squid emoji and/or my favourite sentence in the world, merci petit calamaro.

charles cries when he reads it.

not to be lazy now but [insert 10k words of them building their friendship. meeting up in monaco with both of their families. meeting in milan or london or paris idk where pierre would live. but he flies charles out. not on a private jet because charles flat out refused lol. not because he's an environmentally conscious king he's just too, embarrassed? overwhelmed? by pierre doing Things Like That for him. even though he wants it lol. like when he graduates he's soooo annoyed that pierre couldn't come celebrate immediately because it was race week. but when he comes home his apartment is filled with flowers (roses, his favourite) and balloons and a giant teddy bear as tall as charles. and he DOES post 12 instagram stories to go with the other 30 from his other friends congratulating him. so yeah charles goes through a lot of personal growth and therapy. to the point where he's watching pierre race again, and waiting for him to invite him to a race again!!! do not even think about actual dates i'm fucking begging you but the one he goes to is monza :))))]

ultimately charles' path to understand/accepting/moving on from, his trauma, happens once he has pierre back in his life. it's also encouraged by pierre, but it's also not entirely because of him. not sure how to word that but yeah. these things are happening at the same time but charles still has to go through them by himself.

pierre takes him on romantic dates all around the world and charles doesn't realize that's what they are. fully in his bestie vibes only mood while pining for pierre in a way he doesn't even quite understand. almost a self deprecating, jeez whoever gets to date pierre is going to be so lucky :/

fanpage on ig: met pierre's alleged bf he's so pretty and sweet, i complimented his shoes and he was so nice. charles reading that: i didnt know he was dating someone :( why wouldn't he tell me :( well at least someone complimented my shoes today :(

pierre doesn't necessarily think they're dating, but he does know charles doesn't quite realize what they're doing so he's just waiting for him to come to terms with it.

not to give this au 10 different subplots but yeah that miscommunication plot becomes our prize for surviving through the first part of this.

but yeah at the last race of the year, that pierre wins because i said so? charles finds him before he goes on to the podium, kisses his helmet. says i love you, i'm so proud of you.

THEN, finally, charles does become pierre's wag. we made it kids. we did it joe.

#rs #anonymous #asks #1016 #just checked this is 1.7k words i am so so so sorry

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effiethebookworm · 3 years

Text

TSE Appreciation Week Day One!

Hurrah, my first TSE Appreciation Week is here!! I have been preparing since late May, and I am almost done with all my fanfictions! Here is the first one. It is called Heirloom, like the theme for today. It uses both the Heirloom prompt and family dynamic prompt, even though the Shephards aren’t my favorite family. It was my first ever attempt at choose-your-own-adventure, and it turned out...decent, I think.

Heirloom

In this Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Fanfiction, you are a young Prince Joshua of Cedulan. That's all you really need to know for now, so enjoy!

“Come on, Granpappy!” your oldest daughter Aphera yells from on top of the hill that you and your father are climbing. “Don't you want to sled with me?” Your father, King Amnon, chuckles.

“I'm coming, Aphera. Remember, patience-” she interrupts him. “Is a virtue. I know, Granpappy.” Amnon leans heavily on his cane as he walks.

“Would you like to stop for a moment, Father?” you ask.

“No, no. Aphera needs me.” Although he's only fifty-three years old, many years of ruling the kingdom of Cedulan have taken their toll. His beard is almost entirely gray, and his face is covered in wrinkles. He is tired more and more, although his eyes always twinkle when he plays with his granddaughters. Adara pulls on your gloved hand.

“Up,” she says in her quiet but insistent voice. You scoop her up and put her on your shoulders.

“Walking in the snow is hard, isn't it?” You ask. You crane your neck to see her nod her head vigorously. You are all at the top of the hill now. Aphera is constructing a snowman. Adara pulls on your ear, her signal for down. You reach up and grab her tiny hands.

“Ready?” you say. She squeals in response. You yank her forward, off your shoulders and swing her onto the ground. Aphera, watching, exclaims,

“I want a turn, Daddy!” Amnon interrupts.

“I thought you wanted to sled!”

“Weeeeeelllll, I guess we can sled now and do horsie rides later.”

“What's sledding?” Adara says.

“Here, Dara, I'll show you!” Aphera sits down on the sled. “Daddy?” You walk over and give her a push. She flies down the hill, whooping and calling. Adara's eyes grow wide with jealousy.

“I want to, Daddy!” she whispers. “Wait until Aphera comes back. You can sled with me then.” Aphera trudges up the hill, panting, sled in tow. Her woolly dress, coat, stockings, boots, hair, and even eyelashes are caked with snow.

“I almost hit a tree, but I didn't!” she proudly announces. “Adara, you wanna go with me?” Before Adara can respond, you tell her,

“Since this is her first year, I think she should only go with adults.” Aphera frowns. Amnon walks over and says,

“You can go with me next, after them.” You grab Adara's hand and walk with her to the sled that Aphera dropped into the snow. You plop down in the back, plop your boots firmly into the snow, and tell her,

“Sit here, in the front.” She does, and you hand her the reins of the sled. “Hold on tight to these.” You release your boots, and push off. As you gain speed, you see a wide grin spread on Adara's face. You go over a small bump, and are airborne for a moment. Adara laughs. You are very surprised. Adara has only laughed three times before in her life. As you slow to a stop at the bottom of the hill, she rolls off. She giggles while you grab the sled, sit her on it, and start pulling it up the hill. Her giggles eventually stop, and as you reach the top of the hill, you hear a scream from Aphera.

“Granpappy!” You sprint up the hill with the sled behind you. Adara, quickly realizing that she is extra weight to pull, rolls off the sled and starts running beside you. She is surprisingly fast for a three-year-old, almost keeping up with you. As soon as you reach the top of the hill, you see what made Aphera scream. Amnon is lying on the ground, his face contorted into a grimace. Aphera is standing over him, hysterically sobbing.

“Granpappy, Granpappy, wake up!” You shake him.

“Father. Father, speak to me.” He moans.

If you tell the girls to run for help, and stay with your father, go to 2.

If you try to scoop him up and take him to the palace yourself, go to 3.

“Adara, Aphera, run home as fast as you can and tell the doctor to come here now.”

“But-” Aphera says, but Adara clasps her hand and starts running towards the palace. You put your hand directly in front of his mouth and nose. His breathing is fast and shallow. You look him over. No blood, no signs of an injury. You feel his forehead. Normal temperature. Please, you pray, let the doctor come quickly. At this, you hear the sound of a galloping horse.

“Help!” you yell. “The king is ill!” The horse and rider come up the hill.

“Prince Joshua, are you al-” the rider sees Amnon on the ground. “My King!” You are annoyed.

“Yes, and he's ill. I need to get him to the palace as soon as possible.” The man considers this. “Put him on my horse. I can sit behind and make sure he doesn't fall.”

“Thank you.” You manage to get Amnon onto the horse, and he is quickly taken to the palace. You grab the sled (Adara would be devastated if it was stolen) and run to the palace.

If you check on your daughters and then your father, go to 4.

If you check on your father first, go to 5.

You start to panic. What am I going to do? An idea strikes you. You roll your father onto his back. He groans softly.

“Hang in there, Dad.” you whisper. You grab him under his shoulders and knees and hoist him up. You stagger backwards for a few steps, startled by his weight. Muscle is heavier than fat, you remind yourself, and he was quite fit. You start walking down the hill, slowly. You hear Aphera crying behind you, but you can't turn around. Suddenly, you slip on the now-icy snow. Thankfully, Amnon lands on top of you instead of the ice. You get an idea.

“Adara, bring the sled to me, please.” She arrives momentarily with the sled in tow. You roll your father onto it, grab the reins, and start pulling him.

“Tell me if he falls off,” you direct Adara. She grunts in response. As you jog over the snowy hills, the palace slowly gets closer. You are out of breath and sweaty now, and you almost collapse when you reach the gates. A guard with an elegant fur cloak greats you.

“Prince Joshua, how are you?”

“King Amnon, f-fell and needs-needs a doctor.” you manage to pant out. The guard notices your father on the sled, and shouts something. Suddenly, ropes fall from the turrets above you, and two more cloaked guards slide down. One of them pulls a tiny key from inside her jerkin, and uses it to open a hidden door next to the drawbridge. The other guard opens his arms and faces up. You are confused, until a large object drops from the top of the building and the guard caught it. He unfolds it, and you see that it is a stretcher. The guards put him on it, and carry him through the secret door and into the darkness of the palace. You are in shock, both from your father's collapse and the complete preparedness of the guards. You knew that all of them were medically trained, in case of an accident, but you had no idea that they were this good. You quickly remember that you left Aphera and Adara behind. You turn around and see them a few feet behind you.

“Girls, why don't you go to the nursery. I'm sure Mother is expecting you.” They nod, still sniffling, and the guard escorts them inside. You stand there still, almost unable to move.

If you check on your daughters and then your father, go to 4.

If you check on your father first, go to 5.

As you open the door to the East Wing of the palace, the familiar smell of the Christmas Feast hits you like a mace. The memories of past feasts with your parents and siblings, Isis, the girls. This will be April's first, you think. And possibly Father's last. You manage to get to the royal suite, and into the nursery. As you open the doors, Aphera and Adara rush to your side. Good, they managed to get back.

“Daddy, is Granpappy alright?” Aphera asks. You manage to smile and say,

“I'm sure he will be.” Isis stands up out of the rocking chair, holding April. She hands April to Aphera.

“Girls, why don't you take April for a walk?” Aphera's face brightens a bit.

“Maybe we can teach her how to walk.” You can feel a headache coming on.

“She's only two months old, Aphera. There's-” Isis elbows you.

“Well, you can try. But don't drop her.” They walk out of the room, and you collapse into Isis' arms. She leads you to sit down, and you fall onto the bed. Your throat hurts because the tears won't come. Isis sits next to you.

“Aphera told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” you whisper. “I am a grown man, the crown prince of Cedulan. Feelings are below me.” Isis frowned.

“You were happy when April was born, right?” You nod. “And angry when King Bhatair called you a royal pinnacle of idiocy?” You groan. “Well, those are feelings too. And if you can enjoy happiness and indulge anger, why do you refuse to cry?”

“Weakness,” you hiss, barely making noise. Your throat is throbbing now. “I cannot show weakness to anyone, ever. Not when I'm in battle, not at home, not even alone with you. Weakness is the mark of a coward.” Isis stands.

“The true coward is the one who is afraid of his own feelings. I'll leave you alone.”

Go to 5.

You walk through the halls of the vast royal suite towards your father's room. The last time you had been there was four years ago when your mother died. She had been bloodily assassinated by a man with an ax. He still hadn't been caught, and you sometimes had nightmares about him. As you reach the door to the atrium for your father's room, you notice a few nurses ducking in and out of the door, murmuring to each other. You open the door to the atrium and the doctor greets you.

“Good afternoon, Prince Joshua.” Skipping the pleasantries, you say,

“How is my father?” The doctor's face falls.

“I am afraid that he has suffered a heart attack. He will die very soon, probably this week.” Oddly, you don't feel sad. Just.... numb. Like you are completely detached from the situation. Like nothing exists anymore.

“Oh,” you hear, and realize that it was you. “May I see him?”

“Yes.” The doctor opens the door and ushers you in. The room is rich, filled with deep purples and blues, satin and mahogany. A very old man is lying on the bed. You realize that it is your father. He turns to you.

“Hello, Joshua.”

“Hello, Father.”

“I'm sorry I spoiled your outing with the girls.”

“No, Father. Don't apologize. It isn't your fault.” He smiles slightly.

“I want to give you and the girls and Isis some presents, for Christmas.”

“But Christmas is in two days. Why not then.” He smiles again.

“Please bring them, as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

Go to 6.

“Granpappy, are you okay?” Aphera asks as soon as she sees Amnon. He deftly changes the subject.

“How would you girls like your Christmas presents a few days early?” He asks. Aphera claps her hands. “Yay! Presents!”

Two servants come out of the corner, each holding a small stack of presents. Amnon takes a large one off of the top, and hands it to Aphera. She quickly tears off the paper, and opens the box. Inside are a small assortment of items. On top are a pair of boots, made of supple black leather with golden buckles. They are a bit too large, but you can easily tell that she loves them. She tries them on happily.

“They're beautiful, Granpappy!” “They're a bit large, but you'll grow.” His eyes glow at seeing her so excited. She picks up the next item, a silver locket. She opens it, and inside is a tiny, yet amazingly lifelike painting of her and Amnon laughing together. She gasps.

“The locket belonged to your grandmother's mother, and I had the painting made.”

“It looks just like me and you!” Aphera says with wonder. She puts it on carefully.

“I'll wear it every day.” She picks up the next, and smallest item. It is a tiny key that you have never seen before. “What is this?” she asks. You are wondering the same thing.

“There is an old Cedulanian custom that before a king dies, he passes on this key to the oldest child of his oldest child, unless that child is over the age of fifteen, in which case it should be passed to the next youngest sibling. Joshua,” he says, now addressing you. “I am sorry that I couldn't pass the key to you. I truly wished to, when you were a boy, but the tradition must be followed.” He turns back to Aphera. “This key unlocks one door in the palace. When you find it, use what you find there well. It will help you, if you know what to do.” He winks at her, and she giggles. You notice what Aphera didn't, that Amnon acknowledged that he is dying.

“Thank you, Granpappy. I love you!” She climbs onto his bed, and wraps her little arms around him.

“I love you too, Aphera.”

He gives her a pat on the head, and announces,

“It's your turn, Adara.” Adara steps forward, and receives a smaller box. She carefully unwraps it, and folds the wrapping paper into a neat square. She opens the box, and stares at the contents inside. She pulls out a thin book, and murmurs,

“What is this?”

“This is a journal, cursed by your great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother Melete Dolan to never run out of pages. It has been used by many before you. When you learn to read, read it and let the wisdom of your forefathers and foremothers guide you. Someday, you will also write in it, and pass it on to your children. I gave it to your aunt when she was a girl, but she died as a child.” His eyes cloud over, remembering a painful past. Adara opens to the middle, and a hair clip falls out. It is studded in tiny amethysts and onyx. She holds it up to the candlelight, and the room is instantly filled with tiny rainbows and shimmering light.

“That,” Amnon says, “has belonged to every middle daughter since Alla Jamiese, Melete Dolan's fourth daughter. It belonged to my mother,” he takes a deep breath, “Antigone Shephard.” Everyone in the room except April gasps. It is taboo, though not forbidden, to utter the name of Antigone Shephard. You are shocked. Your parents named you Joshua only because they wanted to break the a-name tradition to distance themselves from Antigone. You had heard rumors that they had wanted to name you Adam, but were too stubborn. Your father continued.

“Adara, that hairpiece holds much history of powerful women. There is a legend that the clip itself holds characteristics of its previous owner. I beg of you, always be careful. Do not allow Antigone's mark to hold power over you. You are young now, and you will forget my words.” He turns to you.

“Joshua, Isis, remind her when she is older.” Adara interrupts.

“Granpappy, if it is so dangerous, why are you giving it to me?” You are shocked. Adara has never uttered a sentence this long before.

“My dear, the legend also tells of the reversal of power. If it is true, you will have the power that Antigone used for evil. You can, and must, use it for good.” Aphera nods, and you pick her up and put her on the bed. Amnon kisses her gently on the forehead, and she smiles. She jumps down on her own, and Amnon beckons for Isis, still holding April, to step forward.

“April. Little April, you will not remember me. So I leave to you my Collection.” Your eyes widen. Every member of a Levantine royal family, Cedulanian, Bellingwrathe, Amethystie, Desdemonian, and so on, has a Collection. Every collection has an object from each year of the person's life, usually on a theme. It was a tradition that the Collection was buried with you, so this was highly unusual. Amnon pulls another box off of the pile and hands it to you. You start to open it, but the king stops you, saying,

“No, Joshua. Let her open it on her birthday.”

“Which one?” you ask.

“The second one after she learns how to read. I left her a note in there. I wish for her to read it herself.”

“Yes sir.” You bow.

“Isis, this is for you,” he says, picking up a tiny box, the last from the pile.

“Thank you, Amnon.” she says as she opens it. She gasps. “Oh Joshua, look!” Inside is a ring, a necklace, and a bracelet. They are all made of pure gleipnir, the most valuable substance on all of Elladess. Amnon chuckles.

“Yes, that is the Queen's Jewelry.” Isis frowns.

“But I'm not-” “You will be soon.” Amnon smiles sadly. Isis side-hugs him. You notice her eyes are watery. Come to think of it, so are yours. No emotion. No sadness.

“Joshua, it is now your turn.” The king shifts in bed, and pulls something off of his belt. Your heart starts to race. You've been waiting for this moment all of your life.

“Prince Joshua of Cedulan,” he says, “I, King Amnon II of Cedulan, now present to you the Silver Eye, cursed by your ancestor Melete Dolan. Use it well, wisely, and mercifully. Never bring it into Nedarian buildings, or use it for evil. Do you promise that you will uphold these rules?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to hand it down to the next heir to the throne when you die?”

“I do.” Your father pulls out a long, purple and silver telescope from a small leather pouch, and bids you,

“Kneel.” You do, and you hold your arms, bent at the elbows, above your head. He places the telescope gently into your hands. The metal is cool, and the telescope is the perfect weight. Lighter than a broadsword, but heavier than a sabre.

“Rise, Prince Joshua, rightful owner of the Silver Eye. You have taken the oath, and it is now yours.” You slowly rise, and your father sits up and ties the case around your waist. Then he falls back onto the pillow, tired.

“Thank you, Father.” You say. “You are tired. We will leave now.”

“You are welcome, my son.” Amnon says exhaustedly.

“Goodbye, Granpappy.” Aphera says, and Adara waves.

“Farewell, my girls. I love you very much.” You herd the girls out of the room, and back to your family's suite. You go down to the kitchens and ask for dinner to be brought up to you while Isis helps the girls into their nightgowns and robes. You return and eat, and then put the girls to bed. You and Isis then go to bed too, although you cannot sleep. You lie there for hours, thinking.

“You can't do him any good by not sleeping.” You are startled.

“I thought you were asleep.” You tell Isis.

“Goodnight, Joshua,” she says.

You take her advice, and fall asleep quickly.

Go to 7.

As soon as you wake, an attendant is by your side.

“Sir, I am sorry to inform you that your father passed away in his sleep.”

“What?” Your mind is foggy from sleep and you don't understand.

“Sir, your father died in his sleep. You are the king now.” The servant is down on one knee. “My king.”

Isis murmurs something next to you.

“Isis. Wake up.” you almost say, but decide to let her sleep. You wish that you could have. You will never be able to again. You kiss her on the forehead, and silently slide out of bed.

THE END

#tseweek2021 #joshua shephard #choose your own adventure #fanfiction #the silver eye

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the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis · 3 years

Text

like other girls - in defense of lauren mallory (pt. 3)

life goes on.

the volleyball team crashes unceremoniously out of the season at regionals. when lauren shows up at lunch the next day each of her friends is holding a balloon with you did your best (probably) written on it in sharpie. she feigns offense--and then lunges out with her fork, popping mike’s so quickly that he yelps and falls out of his chair, and she laughs until her lungs hurt.

the other four, she ties to her backpack and totes around until she gets to stats and mr. cogan tells her she’s causing a disruption.

by thanksgiving, lauren’s dad is in forks, not seattle, and mr. weber hasn’t invited any of his congregation over this year, so the mallory-stanley-weber conglomerate descends on angela’s house, like they have on-and-off ever since elementary school.

lauren helps her parents haul an overwhelming number of sides out of their car, mrs. weber makes menudo instead of turkey, and mr. stanley waltzes in with four pies--three pumpkin, and one apple. the argument over the leftovers is warm and well-worn, and lauren rolls her eyes as she hands off clean dishes for jess to dry so that angela can shelve them.

when the adults break out the wine and expand over the table, lauren and jess follow angela back to her room. they attempt monopoly, until jess catches lauren sneaking one 500 too many out of the bank and slaps her hand, accidentally sending an entire row of houses flying across angela’s blue comforter, and they switch, laughing, to uno.

(it’s better than nothing, lauren tells herself, over and over again, ignoring the ache in her stomach, the itch in her fingertips that’s sometimes more like burning. it’s jess, it’s your best friend, that matters more than--than--)

the mallorys spend christmas break in seattle with lauren’s grandma--andrew even flies in from vermont.

lauren does all of her gift-shopping in bright malls with soaring ceilings, breathing in the chatter of the crowds, and ducking into coffee shops whenever she feels like it. they even watch a professional ballet troupe do the nutcracker one night. she lies awake in her dark guest room, dizzily exhausted, and thinks this, i want this, i want to be somewhere just like this.

on new year’s eve, lauren perches on her desk, (they've only been back two days, so her armchair is still hosting the contents of a half-unpacked suitcase), nursing a cup of tea and flipping through a fashion magazine from her grandmother's coffee table. an engine sputters outside her open window--she glances out just in time to see tyler crowley’s van skid to a halt on the curb.

for a moment, lauren panics--then jess sticks her head out a window and yells he’s got fireworks! get down here!

they rattle up to the cliffs and pile out of the van. they weigh the blankets down on the rocks with mike's electric lantern, huddle together for warmth, passing around drinks, and tell stories about their winter breaks--mike almost broke an arm, apparently, the one day it snowed, bailing at the last possible second from a sled tied to the back of connor's truck.

at 11:58, they crowd around mike’s glow-in-the-dark watch, counting down to midnight--and then they shower sparks out over the ocean.

red and green and gold go whizzing out into the air, and they whoop, watching the clouds light up for split seconds, over and over.

lauren glances at jess. the colors are shimmering on her on her flushed cheeks, catching in her dark eyes as she stares up to the sky and cheers, bright and wild enough that lauren can feel it humming in her bones.

angela wanders up behind her, and jess spins to grab her by the shoulders, shouting something and laughing--and lauren loves both of them so much she has no idea how to carry it--

angela catches lauren's gaze and smiles--it’s soft, and this one lauren knows exactly how to read. jess sees it and spins--and lauren watches her eyes get even brighter as she waves her over.

it's enough. it's more than enough.

get over here! jess repeats, and lauren does.

they go back to school, and it's--normal.

lauren drags her grades up a few percentages now that she doesn't have practices to worry about. tyler stops by the lunch table to invite them all to the basketball games--and even looks at lauren when he says it--and they agree. angela's stress about the yearbook starts bubbling over--she keeps missing lunches, spending them in ms. kimble's classroom editing instead, and lauren and jess take turns ambushing her on the way to biology with snacks.

and then the police chief’s daughter comes back to forks, and jess drags her to the lunch table, beaming.

lauren scowls. toys with a fork. watches mike--who jess has been desperately, quietly crushing on for months now--bounce and bumble into the new girl’s orbit. watches edward fucking cullen stare at her too--and of course she stares back, tuning jess out completely, because that’s not rude at all--

and she watches jess. asking questions, sharing gossip, offering all their little lunch group’s jokes and stories and meetups up to this nobody--

lauren’s sitting too far down the table to kick bella swan’s chair, but for a petty second, she wants to. she grits her teeth, doing her best to ignore it.

she doesn’t think about how tentative everything feels right now, how close to crashing down around her--she’s never made friends easily, she knows, she’s heard her parents and her teachers cluck about it all her life, but it never mattered because she had jess and she had angela and now jess is latching on to this new girl like--like--

angela flags her down in the parking lot after school that friday and invites her over. (lauren doesn't know whether to be grateful that she doesn't have to keep turning over this bitter anger alone, or hurt that it's this obvious she needs--something--right now.)

the twins are at soccer practice, and mrs. weber on the sidelines, so they have the house to themselves. they play music as loud as angela's little cd player will let them, and spread the nail polish out on the living room floor instead of the bathroom, leaning back against the soft gray couch as they talk.

angela starts with a simple white, and lauren uncaps a vivid, glittering green.

i just--who does she think she is? lauren erupts finally, when they've exhausted the upcoming math test and rumors that principal mckinley's finally going to be fired and eric's new dog. just because she's from fucking--new mexico or whatever, she thinks she can waltz in here and the entire school will just roll over for her! it's such bullshit!

i don't think that's what she wants, angela says calmly, she seems pretty shy. she didn't ask for jess to pay attention to her.

well then i'm mad at jess, lauren spits--and is unspeakably glad that angela doesn't look up, just keeps tracing the rainbow she's painting onto her big toe. she didn't ask. she didn't think about what we--whether we wanted to deal with some weird new kid--who is the literal police chief's daughter, by the way--she doesn't care that bella clearly doesn't give a shit about anything except the cullens, she just--she should care, and she doesn't!

the words hang in the air, and lauren is surprised to find tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. she's dug her hands into fists, and the still-wet green is streaked across her palms.

angela recaps her little purple jar carefully--then lays her cheek on her knees and her eyes on lauren, cautious and far too knowing behind her glasses. can i ask you something?

lauren locks her eyes out the window. sunlight seeps weakly through the clouds, bouncing off blue curtains that she accidentally smeared peanut butter all over the summer after second grade, when mike showed up in angela's driveway out of nowhere and they all piled into the window to gawk.

sure, she says--far too aware of angela clicking the cd player off, of the huge and empty silence in the little house.

do you have a crush on jessica?

for a second, it feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. with fireworks bursting out over the black ocean above and lighting up the underbellies of clouds. like the dizziness of looking down, down, down to a black depth, where the only hint of an end is lines of white that must be waves, crashing against rocks that are hidden by the night--

i think i might. lauren's voice is smaller than she's heard it in years.

okay, angela says, hey, lauren, it's okay! and it's not until angela's arm goes around her shoulders that lauren realizes she's crying.

you shouldn't--she tries, and angela just squeezes tighter, so lauren lets herself crumple onto her friend's shoulder and cry.

when there’s nothing but silence left, angela shifts around to sit in front of lauren, who leans her aching head back on the couch cushions--she can’t look, she can’t--

listen, angela says--grabs lauren’s hands and squeezes. i don’t care, okay? whatever...whatever my dad says, whatever anyone says, i don’t--it’s okay. you’re okay. it doesn’t change anything.

sometimes i wish it would, lauren tells the ceiling, and angela is quiet.

it won’t be like this forever, she finally says.

something deep in lauren settles. she breathes--her eyes are raw and her throat is sore and her hands are a little bit shaky between angela’s cool palms, but she’s breathing.

i still don’t like the new girl, she says, and angela sighs--lauren can hear the laugh behind it.

come on. let’s go find the polish remover and redo this.

(prev) (next)

#lauren mallory #jessica stanley #angela weber #listen. angela+lauren friendship makes me feel a lot of things #i just #god #aargh

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

Text

You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Aaaaand here we are with the final chapter of this story! A very cracky finale, with a surprising amount of fashion judgement and a lack of serious damage. I’ve made them suffer enough on their wedding day.

Thank you so, so much to everyone who’s read so far! It was a genuine pleasure to write this story, and the positive response has warmed my heart. Lots of love for everyone 💕 Hope you’ll enjoy this!!

---

Chapter 9

Max has conveniently chosen the room they’d all met up in earlier for their lift back, Ladybug notices as she steps out of the portal. Rena Rouge and Queen Bee are standing at the door, discreetly peeking at the reception on the other side. They turn around when they hear the portal’s low hum.

“How’s it going?” Ladybug asks, joining them in their stakeout.

“I think they’re starting to feel a little uncomfortable.” Alya nods towards the next room, and Marinette steals a look, not knowing if her friend is referring to their primary suspects, or Nino and Kagami.

A look inside answers her question. The four of them are standing in the middle of the room, and it’s quite clear from their body language that her friends are doing their best to look at ease, while their interlocutors are clearly desperate to go. They show it differently, though: whereas Gabriel is standing straighter than ever, eyes darting towards the nearest exit as Nino enthusiastically speaks to him about something involving large hand gestures and a lot of shoulder pats, Nathalie seems exhausted, shrunk on herself while Kagami talks about something technical, if Ladybug can trust her frowns as she explains.

“Well, as long as it’s them and not the guests, it should be alright. Wouldn’t want a mass akumatisation on our hands.” Ladybug straightens up and sighs.

“So, it’s really them?” Alya asks.

“I think saying ‘most probably’ would be an understatement.” She shakes her head.

“Poor Adrien,” Queen Bee mutters next to them. “This is honestly the last thing he needs.”

Marinette looks at Alya worriedly, and her friend squeezes her hand. “He’s up to speed, I think he’s hanging in there.”

“I’ll have a talk with him later.” Ladybug promises herself.

“Anyway, what’s the plan now?” Queen Bee turns towards her expectantly.

“Well, see, that’s my problem, I’m not entirely sure how to go about it-”

“I am.” Chat Noir walks straight past them, stormy eyes fixed on the two suspects, his tail slipping through Ladybug’s fingers, and he's out in the open before she can retain him. She hadn't heard the portal close behind him, nor his approaching footsteps.

She starts to run after him, we don’t have a plan, what is he doing, but Rena Rouge grips her arm before she can, yanking her back inside their honorary headquarters. Ladybug’s offended look melts as her friend delicately takes her veil out of her hair. She’d completely forgotten about it.

“Might not want to out yourself to them right now, since they probably don’t know who you are,” her friend says softly.

“Now go make sure your partner doesn’t get into too much trouble. Don’t worry, we’ve got your back. We’ll figure something out if anything happens, but you generally do pretty well without the B team.” Queen Bee pushes her out of the room with a wink.

Ladybug glances back one last time before she heads in; Max has come closer, and her three friends smile at her reassuringly as she does. She smiles back, hoping it expresses just how much she’s thankful for them being there, and not how worried she is about what might unfold.

---

Chat Noir barely hears the guests’ gasps as they make way for him. He strides purposefully into the room, his eyes trained on his father. Gabriel Agreste. Hawkmoth.

When he catches sight of the dark figure approaching him, the man tenses even more than he’d already been, which Chat hadn’t thought was possible. Yes, you can be worried, he thinks, nodding at Nino and Kagami to relieve them of their duties. Both stand aside, and start ushering people away from the newly formed trio.

“Chat Noir,” Gabriel greets coldly, eyes flickering to his right hand’s ring finger.

Even now, that’s all he can think about, Chat shakes his head, protectively balling his hand into a fist. He’s ready to seize the opportunity, even if it means disrupting his only son’s wedding. He hopes his scorn is visible as he looks at him.

“What a… pleasant surprise,” his father lets out without conviction, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

It takes all of Chat Noir’s willpower to not spit at his feet, and even more to not spit in his face.

“Mr. Agreste,” he says through gritted teeth. “I believe we need to talk.”

“Do we? Whatever about?” His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks around the room with fake amusement, as if trying to find an allied face in the crowd. Most people look away uneasily. He’s a powerful man, but his challenger is one of Paris’ most trusted protectors. Something must be up, and although it isn't clear what side it's best to be on, something tells them it's not Gabriel Agreste's.

To the untrained eye, Gabriel looks perplexed, almost hurt by the request. To Adrien Agreste, though, who has spent years scrutinising his father’s facial expressions, searching for any hint of pride, love, anything positive, there’s no mistake; he can read the fear in his eyes.

He takes a step forward.

“That’s a nice scarf you have today.” He nods towards his father’s neck, sporting his classic candy-cane Ascot. “A little… ten, fifteen-years ago, though, don’t you think? If it ever was in fashion.”

“It’s a signature look,” Gabriel scoffs, offended by the superhero’s words. “As Chanel once said, la mode se démode, le style, jamais.”

“Yet that implies that you actually have style, which is a statement I’m sure I’m not the only one to disagree with.” He takes a look around the room, pouting pensively. “Actually, you know what? I think the scarf should come off. It clashes with the wedding’s colour scheme. Unless it holds a higher meaning to you?” He asks innocently, but there’s no mistaking the threat in his eyes as he holds a hand out.

Gabriel shares a look with Nathalie, who nods uneasily. He takes off the tie, revealing a single, gleaming, amethyst underneath (bingpot, Chat thinks), and hands it over to Chat Noir. “Of course not. In fact, if this is a way of getting something of mine, you know, I would’ve given it to you for a lot less hostility. Would you like it signed?” He smirks again.

Chat is about to lunge at him when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Chat Noir, don’t you think we should take this some other place? Somewhere less public, perhaps?” Ladybug asks soothingly.

Chat’s eyes flicker to her for the briefest of instants. It’s enough for Gabriel to seize the opportunity.

“Nooroo, dark wings rise!” Gabriel makes the most of his opponent’s distraction, yanking Ladybug by the arm to hold her against him.

She yelps as she feels the cold metal of his cane against her neck, almost choking her. Her eyes dart wildly around, taking in the panic that washes over the room, and she tries to free herself, but Hawkmoth tightens his grip. People scream and push each other as they run for shelter. This is exactly what she’d wanted to avoid.

“There, you have what you want, don’t you?” Hawkmoth lets out a dry laugh. “A public reveal. Maybe you should’ve consulted with your girlfriend first, though.” Ladybug feels the cane start digging in her neck, and she gasps.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” Chat Noir snarls, taking another step forward. He knows he can't go straight for his opponent with Ladybug trapped like she is. He'd run the risk of her getting severely injured.

Ladybug is thankful for his diversion; her captor’s attention is fully on him, rather than on the hundreds of agitated guests. Her mind whirrs as she tries to think of something to do that wouldn’t end in total carnage, but the lack of oxygen is making her mind fuzzy.

“Oh? What a shame. You know, I could help you get revenge for her breaking your heart. I’ll take her earrings as down payment, and you can give me your ring when you’re done.” His smile makes him look deranged. Chat Noir can feel the panic rising in his chest, but represses it.

“Who says she broke my heart?” He shoots him a look of disgust and opens his hand, ready to invoke his Cataclysm.

He doesn’t get that far - a portal opens behind Hawkmoth and out flies Carapace’s shield in a flash of green, hitting the villain straight in the head before falling at his side.

He grunts and loses his grip on Ladybug, who seizes the opportunity to take a deep breath and scramble to Chat’s side. Her partner steps in front of her, his arm extended protectively in front of her body, as Hawkmoth pushes himself up to reach for his cane.

He stumbles back down before it can fly back in his hand, yellow flashing out from the same portal and hitting him in the lower back. His knees buckle under him. Queen Bee and Carapace step out of the portal, the former rewinding her spinning top.

Chat Noir yanks Hawkmoth’s brooch off of his immobilised body, releasing his transformation. Kagami comes forwards, holding Nathalie with her arms pinned behind her back. The assistant had apparently tried to make a break for it when her accomplice had transformed. They are soon joined by the police special forces, advancing cautiously behind their shields to secure the perimeter.

As Gabriel and Nathalie are cufflinked and brought out of the room, Ladybug catches Adrien and an illusion of herself out of the corner of her eye. She doesn’t think she’d look as panicked and distraught as Alya is making her, were she a mere bystander, but then again, her expression matches Adrien’s. It probably isn’t as over the top as she thinks it is.

Carapace picks up his shield once the floor is cleared, dusting it a little before fastening it to his back.

“I know it’s not the first time I knocked Hawkmoth in the head, but man, it feels even better now that I know who he is.”

“He deserves all the worst.” Chloé looks at Nathalie and Gabriel’s backs the same way she’d looked at socks in sandals the previous summer - with complete and utter disdain. Ladybug is almost surprised that she doesn’t sprint after them to kick them or something.

Chat nods along, before his attention snaps to Ladybug. Worry wrinkles his forehead as he holds her at arms’ length, looking for any sign of injury. “Are you alright, my Lady?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.” She waves his concern away, even if her voice is hoarser than usual. She pushes him back slightly and cups his cheek.

He’s the one she’s worried about. An anger she’d never seen so potent on him had seemed to emanate from him as he talked to Gabriel Agreste. She needed to talk to him about it.

“Marinette?” Alya’s voice sounds in their ear, interrupting their fussing over each other. They wince a little at the volume.

“Yes?” She replies, keeping a hand on him.

“People are starting to fuss over you and Adrien, I think you should come and detransform. I’m not sure I can handle hugs.”

She glances at Chat Noir.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” He squeezes her shoulder. “I’m going to make sure they don’t escape their lift to jail. I promise no punching will be involved, even if I feel like I missed out earlier.” His smile is a little tense.

“Okay.” She lets go of him cautiously. “Come and find me after?”

“I purr-omise.” He kisses her forehead and watches her walk out of the room, barely sparing a glance at their doubles who start following her. She therefore misses fake-Adrien retaining fake-Marinette and whispering something in her ear. The latter nods, and he kisses her knuckles before leaving through another door. Fake Marinette blushes and gives him a small wave with a lovestruck smile. Alya really has us nailed down, hasn’t she, he shakes his head as he watches the scene unfold.

“Hey dude, how are you holding up?” Carapace drapes an arm around his shoulders. Queen Bee and Kagami move closer to them as well. From the concerned look on Chloé’s face, Adrien deduces that the others must have brought her up to speed on the situation. She’d never been a big fan of Chat Noir.

“It’s a lot.” He admits, raking a hand through his hair. “But I’m so thankful for you guys. I lost it earlier, and that almost lost us Hawkmoth and Ladybug.” He looks up at his three friends with a small smile.

“We’ll always have your back.” Chloé pats his arm. “Especially when it’s this satisfying.”

“Now, go and watch your progenitor get driven away. I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.” Kagami nudges him towards the exit.

He nods and takes his leave. He has one last card to play to make it truly fulfilling, and he’s definitely putting it down.

---

Chat Noir walks towards the van, feeling his anger boil again at the sight of his father’s profile through the back doors’ windows. He takes a moment to breathe in deeply and think happy thoughts. Now that Hawkmoth has been arrested, he’ll finally be able to reveal his identity to Marinette. He’ll do it before the end of the day, so they can make the most of their honeymoon. Maybe there is a silver lining to this, after all.

Having regained his cool, he strides up to the van, his step unusually heavy. Gabriel Agreste looks up at the sound of his footsteps on the gravel, and frowns.

“What do you want?” He asks dryly.

“See, I just thought our conversation earlier was cut a little short. What with you attacking Ladybug and everything.” His eyes shoot daggers.

“Why would you care, if you’re not together anymore?” His father scoots a little away from the van’s back doors as Chat Noir approaches.

“I never said we weren’t together anymore. And even if that were the case, I’ll remind you that we’ve been fighting evil, you, for over a decade. Nothing could break our bond at this point. But what I actually meant was that ‘girlfriend’ is no longer a suitable title for her. She’s now my wife.” He tells him, an almost manic glint in his eye. This is going to hurt you so much, and I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it. This is for hiding Maman from me.

“Are you expecting congratulations from me?” Gabriel all but rolls his eyes, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Well, even if you didn’t exactly say it, I feel like you covered that part earlier.” Gabriel’s eyes are on the verge of reckoning. He would probably figure it out with a little mulling over during the drive, but Chat needs the satisfaction of seeing his expression at the exact moment he realises what he means. “She’s a bit busy at the moment, but I’m sure she’d join me in thanking you for coming to our wedding today… Father.”

Gabriel’s jaw drops and Chat enjoys watching the thousands of emotions that flicker through his eyes, distorting his face as the van starts to drive away. It’s perfect timing. He can see his father shouting, banging on the doors, but he’s out of earshot. He stands on the porch until the vehicle is out of sight, then heads back inside.

He’s almost tackled by Marinette as he does.

“Chaton, something just… doesn’t seem right,” she whispers as she hugs him. She’d thought about it while she reassured her parents and some other guests that she and Adrien were fine, although the latter's absence made her question his well being. Not wanting to worry too much about it, she’d dissected the events in her head, instead. “Everything seems to be sorted now, we uncovered Hawkmoth’s identity, but then who was blackmailing me? Who was blackmailing him? And why?”

Chat Noir notices people are looking at them a little pointedly, whispering. He untangles himself from her arms and reluctantly steps away. “We’ve got all the time in the world to discover that, Princess.” He nods towards their audience and she nods in understanding, although she looks a little disappointed. “It was an honour saving your wedding.”

“Yes, thank you for that.” She clears her throat.

“We can discuss it with Ladybug after your honeymoon.” He says, and she notices he’s a little tense, almost brooding as he stands before her.

“Speaking of which, I… I should go and find Adrien.” She looks around, hoping she’ll finally spot the familiar mop of blond hair in the crowds that have returned, slightly shaken. Alya told her that he’d gone to freshen up after the arrest, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s okay. It’s been a little while. “Want to come with?”

“I don’t think my presence is necessary. I’ll catch up with you later.” He feels a giddy smile spread on his lips, his thoughts clinging to his reveal. Marinette shoots him a quizzical look before heading off towards the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

He manages to beat her to his. He detransforms, and opens the door right as she’s about to knock.

“Oh, hey, Marinette.” He jumps back a little, pretending to be caught off-guard by her presence. “I was just about to join you downstairs. Is everything alright?”

“That’s my line.” She tries to joke, but his jumpiness concerns her a little. “Can we talk, just for a second?”

“Yeah, of course.” He opens the door wider for her and leads her inside the room, fidgeting with his ring. He invites her to sit at the foot of his bed.

Marinette opens her mouth, then closes it. She frowns as she tries to find a good opening question, comment, anything. She hasn’t been this tongue-tied since collège, and this has got to be the worst moment for it to strike again. She utters a couple of words, but backtracks again and again. None feel really right in these circumstances.

Adrien patiently listens as she tries to find the words. She doesn’t dare touch him, if her distance on the bed tells him anything. He wished she would though; he could do with a hug, their previous one having been interrupted. He knows hugging Adrien could make her feel uncomfortable, though, on account of the fact that she thinks he might have feelings for her, and that she doesn’t want to lead him on. Always so thoughtful, his Lady.

“How are you feeling, Adrien?” Marinette finally says, carefully taking his hands in hers and squeezing them. “You say the word, and everybody goes home. I’m really so sorry things turned out this way, had I known, I wouldn’t have done anything today…”

“Marinette,” Adrien squeezes her hands back and looks at her earnestly. “Trust me, you did the right thing. It would never have been a good time to learn about my father’s… activities anyway. At least you had everybody who matters with you, ready to help. It might have been more complicated to have that any day.” He smiles sadly. “Besides…” He starts, but hesitates.

“Adrien, I’m here for you. You can count on me to be there, to listen. Don’t hold back.” She leans forwards, encouraging him when his silence stretches.

Adrien’s smile strengthens, becoming almost hopeful as he shifts closer to her on the bed. This is it, he thinks. Now or… well, not never, but this is as good a time as any.

“Besides,” he clears his throat, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now, and I guess this is just a sign that we should have this conversation now. You said that we should wait, but-”

“Ah, there you two are!” Alix barges into the room without knocking, and Marinette would have flung herself at her to thank her for the interruption, had she not been afraid of hurting Adrien’s feelings. She carefully lets go of his hands and stands up, crossing her arms over her chest.

She hadn’t liked Adrien’s tender eyes just now. Like they were hoping for something she knew he knew she couldn’t give him. She didn’t feel like turning him down today, not after everything that had happened, after he’d basically lost his family. But she wouldn’t really have a choice if he tried again later.

Where are you, Chat Noir? she thinks. Having him around would probably keep Adrien at bay. She wonders what better things he could have to do at this moment, but nothing comes to mind.

She turns towards her friend. She’d have to do, for now.

“Alix?” The young woman had started slow clapping about halfway through her inner monologue, looking excessively smug.

“I’ve been looking for you two everywhere, I wanted to congratulate you in person.” She grins.

Marinette and Adrien look at her, slightly puzzled. Marinette wonders if she’s off somewhere, and just wanted to say goodbye. Clapping seems a little over the top, though.

“You solved my mystery!” She clarifies, prompting Adrien and Marinette to look at each other.

“Care to elaborate?” Adrien raises an eyebrow.

“She got us a sort of escape game as a wedding present,” Marinette starts explaining, although she’s failing to see how everything ties up together.

“Yeah, and you did really well! Not gonna lie, I was expecting more drama from today, but hey, it was probably for the best.” She sighs when she sees her dumbfounded friends’ faces. “See, both of you were just so cute together, it was honestly getting a little nauseating back in the burrow.” Alix sarcastically joins her hands near her cheek. “Everything was in order, no end of the world in sight” she shoots a pointed look at Marinette, “but that made you slow down on the Hawkmoth hunt, so I had to do something. I know I’m not supposed to meddle, but hey. Hawkmoth and Mayura were getting on my nerves, and I’d kept my mouth shut long enough. ” She shrugs. “And I thought the detective play was pretty fitting, remember Mylène’s Akumatisation, when we were trying to film that movie for a competition in collège? You guys played some agents or something, and I think it was the moment pretty much everyone started shipping you two together, if they hadn’t already been.”

“But, we're not..." Marinette starts before another thought goes through her mind, the first of many that prevent her from finishing her sentences. "And the envelopes…” She shakes her head, trying to organise her thoughts. Things don’t add up in what Alix is saying, but she’s too stunned to figure it out.

“Planted by me, for you and Hawkmoth. I thought it would speed things along, whoever made the first move. Sorry for freaking you out so much. I actually wasn’t expecting you guys to go through the fake wedding route, but it ended up making things a lot easier for me. Everybody was in the same place at the same time, so really, great job on that.” She nods to herself before looking up at them again. “It was even super easy to get Max to bring his equipment, just had to make a post on one of his usual forums saying a life-size hide and seek was a great wedding activity, especially if you had earpieces for the seekers, and voilà. You have a convinced man.” She gives them a satisfied smile. “I’ll get him to launch a game before the end of the day. He might be disappointed otherwise.” She adds pensively.

Her friends still look at her like she’s grown a second head. She rolls her eyes at the lack of response, but kind of understands.

“Anyway, I know there’s a lot to unpack, but just know that everything’s fixed now. I’ll leave you two to enjoy the honeymoon you so deserve. Ladynoir for the win!” She winks.

Turning around, she takes a couple of steps, hands digged in her suit pockets, mentally counting down for Marinette to connect the dots.

3, 2, 1…

“Wait, Alix?” Marinette calls out to her friend.

“Yes, boss?” Alix smirks as she turns around.

“What do you mean, Ladynoir?” She’s frowning, eyes darting between her and Adrien.

“It's a ship name, for Ladybug and Chat Noir?" Alix asks, angelically batting her eyelids. "Oh, no, don't tell me; you guys hadn’t reached that part of your discussion yet.” She snaps her fingers and shakes her head, her grin giving away how unrepentant she is. “Well, spoiler alert, then, I guess.”

Marinette turns towards Adrien, who’s smiling sheepishly at her.

“I was just about to tell you, Bugaboo,” he says and her eyes widen in response.

"I'll leave you two to it!" Alix smiles as she walks out of the room, whistling the wedding march tune. She doesn’t need to turn around to know Adrien has probably taken his bride’s hand in his and is probably kissing her knuckles, while Marinette is on the cusp of having a meltdown.

Her job here is done.

She slides the ‘do not disturb’ panel on the door handle; something tells her they might need it. So what if the first dance is even more delayed. She’s not in charge of the day’s schedule.

But she definitely won the best present award.

24 notes · View notes

authoressofdarkness · 4 years

Text

Guide Me Safely To Shore

Only one thing ever made Tony Stark think twice about fulfilling his full potential. Two little words on the inside of his wrist, where his soulmark sits, ghostly, waiting for him to recognize his soulmate in some unredeemable way. He always knew he’d hurt them. But when he discovers his soulmate is none other than the feisty little Spiderling swinging around his streets, he realizes things are a lot worse than he ever could have thought.

Notes: So this just hit me in the middle of the night while reading fanfiction and avoiding hw the other night. I’ve got several ideas for it going forward, so this isn’t a one shot, but with midterms right around the corner I can promise nothing. Sorry. But I love you all and I’m hoping to get the next part out soon. <3 Enjoy, and I’d love to hear what you think!

This is unbetaed, so sorry for any mistakes.

Also, if anyone is interested, I realized while titling this that the song I took inspiration from is actually a lot more relevant to this story than I thought, and even more so the play itself. You can consider it the theme song for this story. The song is called “All That Matters,” from the Broadway cast of Finding Neverland. If you ever get the chance to see it, you most definitely should, or at least listen to the soundtrack. So listen to that if y’all get a chance, and do with that what you will.Okay, now enjoy! 💙

Only one thing in the world had made Tony think twice about fulfilling his full potential.

It wasn’t his friends. Or family — not that he really had any to speak of. Not his position at SI, not fear for his life, his work, his legacy, or anything of the sort.

It was the last thing someone would expect, honestly. Even for a man like Tony, an alpha with such power, who commanded such respect, had to have a soulmate. One he was expected to love, cherish, and yes, even a man like him craved that. He hadn’t met them yet, though, his soulmate, but the two words branding him, marking him with the words from his soulmate that will seal their bond, are there, have always been there, carefully hidden away from the public eye… and terrifying him in a deeper way than anything else could.

Please don’t.

Those two little words, branded onto his skin, reminding him every day of the horrors he may be wreaking on his soulmate without knowing it. There was no way to interpret them in a good light; and he knows that they mean, to some extent, he is going to hurt them.

And what’s worse, is that he hears them so often. People begging. It’s almost become part of his reason behind his cruel reputation — forcing people to beg, just to make them say it, just to make absolutely certain before he does something irreversible that it's not his soulmate he holds. Each time, he has to hold his breath, think about everything he’s ever done in that split second while he waits to see if hearing the words this time will change his life.

It’s the only thing that’s ever made him think twice about the things that he does. If there’s one person he doesn’t want to hurt, that he’d protect with his life at all costs, it’s his soulmate.

Yet he has no idea who it is, and the only thing he does know is he’s destined to fucking hurt them. Probably make them beg for their life before he realizes that they’re his soulmate. That he’s hurting his other half.

Most of the time he relishes the power, the fear and respect he gets from other people. But the idea of his soulmate being afraid of him just makes him sick to his stomach.

Tonight, the thoughts weigh heavy on his mind as he flies around the city in his suit.

In the years since he’s come to power — subtly, of course, then slowly less so — there had been little resistance from the masses. His influence is good for them, for the most part. It’s more peaceful than it’s been in years. Most people go about their lives business as usual. So long as they don’t challenge him.

Except there’s still a couple of people who challenge him.

The Avengers are, by far, the most pesky. But in recent times they’ve rather given up. There’s bigger problems in the rest of the world, still, and they can’t trick him or infiltrate him, can’t operate in secrecy the way they usually do. Tony is isolated — few friends, and none that would dare betray him, especially not after what happened to Obie. His company is firmly in his own hands, and his technology gives him virtually limitless access to information. He can see virtually anyone, anywhere, anytime he wants. There’s no way to hide from him. And what’s worse for them — he doesn’t try to hide what he’s doing. There’s nothing to expose when you’re honest from the start. He’s practically untouchable.

But… wait, did he say no way? That’s not… entirely true. He doesn’t know how, but someone has found a way around it.

Because there’s one person other than the Avengers that still bothers him.

Spider-Man.

He’d let him go for a while. It’s his own fault they’ve gotten so confident, if he’s being honest. Letting them run around and play vigilante. At first, they’d been a help, in truth — dragging in some of the street trash even he couldn’t control, and couldn’t be bothered to deal with personally. But then he’d started to get bolder. Bold enough to interfere with him. And while he couldn’t do any major damage, he sure was annoying.

Mostly because he was succeeding. In interrupting little things, at least. And, going back to his earlier thought, because he can’t fucking find him.

Whoever the guy is, he’s careful. Smart. Smart enough that Tony hasn’t been able to find basically any footage of him, anything to link Spider-Man with a normal persona. And he’s obviously just a normal person under the suit. He has to be. And there’s no way he lives in that thing all the time. Especially not with the way he’s avoided his detection so well.

He’s made all the harder to track by his erratic schedule. He can come out at night or during the day, every day for a month and not be seen again for a month the following days. The only consistency is that he tends to be out and about in the Queens borough. Even that is a wide enough area that he has a hard time using it to pin the man’s identity down. He’s narrowed it, certainly, but calculating the amount of people that could make it there every so many days, accounting for the inconsistent schedule and what it could mean, age, height, and hell, even gender — because really, all they would have to do is use a voice modulator and let people see what they wanted to for the rest — means that the number of suspects is still in the thousands.

Speaking of pinning the other man down…

He hopes to be able to do that tonight. He’s let the vigilante go unhindered for long enough. It was time for them to have a little talk. Preferably a short one. He’s tired and temperamental tonight. The day has been long, and all he really wants is someone to help bear the load, but… he can never be so vulnerable. Not with just anyone, particularly, and there’s no one he trusts around tonight. That’s part of the reason why he’d decided to come out and fly around.

That, and because he’d gotten a pretty reliable tip that Spider-Man was going to be out and about himself tonight. And they have some business to attend to.

He finds the vigilante, to his surprise, perched on the edge of the roof, legs swinging in the breeze, looking out over the city through his lense-covered eyes.

He descends from a distance, loudly enough there’s no way the other man doesn’t hear as he’s approaching. But he doesn’t move. In fact, Tony is surprised to hear it when he comes up behind him and he still hasn’t moved at all except to suddenly say, “I wondered how long it would take.”

“For what?” Tony can’t help himself; he bites, immediately, curious. Fascinated, he’d dare say. The confidence in his own abilities he must have to sound so calm, to stay put upon hearing him approach, is almost unbelievable. Either that, or he doubts his own ability to make a clean escape, and so didn’t bother. He’s not sure which option he prefers, but either way, this will be interesting.

“For you to come looking for me. Everything I’ve done to keep my identity a secret, I’m sure you’re dying to know by now.”

He says it so matter-of-fact, emotion undistinguishable in his voice. Tony tilts his head, unsure whether he should be impressed with his ability to sound so cool and self assured, or annoyed with the fact his assessment was correct.

It hardly matters. Part of the reason they had to have this chat in person was so that Tony could begin to work on figuring it out. The AI in his suit is no doubt already working on it. And he doesn’t sound like, for all his seeming self-assuredness, that he was smart enough to use a voice filter, so no doubt Jarvis is well on his way. Not that it would have stopped him, but it might have delayed the inevitable enough that he may actually have had a chance to escape this time before a verdict came in.

“I suppose you’ve got me there,” Tony finally says, after a long moment of deliberation. “I don’t suppose now that I’m here you’ll just tell me? I can go easier on you if you come quietly.”

Spider-Man lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head. “Can. But you won’t. You could just let me go. But we both know you wouldn’t have come all the way out here just to do that.”

“Well you could go back to fighting low-level crime instead of infringing on my operations, couldn’t you?” Tony retorts. “And flattered as I am by your assessment of me-“ he can’t say much, as he’s not entirely wrong, “-I thought I’d at least give you a fair chance, first, before we go quite that far.”

“I don’t think your definition of fair chance and mine are the same.”

Tony ignores him, continuing on. “Go back to fighting your low level crime and having a good time and whatever else it is you do. Stop interfering with my operations. I’ll even give you my endorsement so the police won’t bother you.”

It’s a generous enough offer, all things considered, but the vigilante is having none of it.

He snorts. “Is that all you’ve got? Really? I expected some kind of bribe, at least.”

“Maybe if you show me you can keep your word, we could talk about it.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m not giving you my word on anything.”

“Shame. Here I thought we’d make a good team.”

“In your dreams, Stark. Just because the Avengers have given into you doesn’t mean everyone else has.”

“That would be a dream, wouldn’t it?” Tony muses, then heaves a sigh. “Fine then. Have it your way.”

For a moment, neither of them move. Then, by some unspoken signal, Tony’s hand comes up, repulsor glowing red hot, just as Spider-Man shoots his first web.

The shot hits the web halfway, making them both disintegrate into thin air. Already moving, Tony flies up in the suit, only to feel a tug on his leg halting his upward momentum — a web. In the second it takes for his suit to disintegrate that one, as well, he’s being covered in more, the force of them pelting him back into the roof, feet sticking to the concrete and torso forced back against one of the light poles, sticky and irritating.

Of course he’d figured out a way to make it so the webs didn’t stick long to his suit as soon as the Spider-Man had made an appearance, but it wasn’t perfect, yet. Couldn’t be without the formula. So while he wasn’t pinned down for long, it’s just enough to get on his nerves.

Even more so because for all his big talk, he’s not actually fighting. Spider-Man pinned him down… and fled.

Well, that just wouldn’t do, would it?

Tony engages the full force of his throttles to just break through the webs faster, and gives chase. He can’t just let him get away with that, after all.

As he flies, he gives himself a minute to focus on the internal calculations flashing in front of his eyes. “How are we doing, Jarvis?”

“Nearly there, sir. Calculations based on body scan and public records have erased quite a few suspects. Cross referencing voice clips with all accessible video including the remaining suspects, but the sheer number is immense. I require a bit of time.”

“I’ve given you a bit of time. I need a name, Jarvis. Something for blackmail. I need to end this tonight.” He doesn’t have time for playing games with the Spider-Man, especially because he’s managed to disappear so effectively every time he tries to. He doesn’t know when he’ll find him again if he doesn’t tonight, and he has a lot of things happening in the near future he does not want messed with.

If he doesn’t find the information he needs, then this night isn’t going to end near as pleasantly as he’d hoped.

Spider-Man is fast, swinging through the city, but not fast enough to shake him. Especially not with his AI’s ability to analyze his every move and know where he’s going to turn next.

He lets him swing around for several minutes, pretending to give chase and hoping to tire him out. He has to just be waiting for him to get bored or lose sight of him so he can drop in somewhere and hide until he leaves or take off the suit to blend in with everyone else. Unfortunately for him, that trick isn’t going to work on him the way it probably does for normal people.

Tony just lets him swing around and tire himself out with him in hot pursuit, then, when he’s sure he has to be running out of energy — and webbing, he could hope — he flies up, into the clouds, dodging and weaving and utilizing his tech to keep an eye on the vigilante while staying out of his line of sight.

It works. Spider-Man drops onto a nearby roof, stumbling a little and bracing himself against a light pole. With a dangerous grin, Tony swoops down to meet him.

By the time he hears him coming and spins around, it’s too late. Tony closes the suit’s hand around his throat and flies him forcefully into the wall of the rooftop exit. Brick crumbles around his outline at the force of the impact, and the lenses of the suit go wide as he claws at his throat.

Almost at the same time as the impact, a picture flashes up in the visor of his helmet. “One almost perfect potential match, sir.”

For a second, Tony just stares at it. Looks through the analytics and double checks them. Then he laughs, unable to help himself. It’s just unbelievable enough that it explains so much. So young — hardly even a man. Spiderling, then, more so than Spider-Man. And even better — an omega. No wonder no one looked twice at this kid before as a potential threat.

He lets the helmet melt away, now, and looks down at the kid, grip around his throat tightening just a little as he watches him wheeze out a breath. His hand around Tony’s wrist is tight, tight enough his suit issues a warning, but not enough to actually dislodge his hand.

“So.” Tony tilts his head. “We meet again, Spiderling. Should probably stop doing that, hm?” He gets a strangled sound in answer, which is about all he could expect, really. He just shrugs. “Oh well. It’s not like it’ll happen much after tonight. Because I’m going to put an end to this, right here.” He leans forward, helmet reappearing— just in case he would do something like try to head butt him, because frankly, while it wouldn’t work, it would hurt — until their noses are almost brushing through their respective suits. “Last chance, Spiderling. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Are you gonna be a big boy about this or not?”

Tony releases his throat just enough for him to draw in a few breaths to answer. He holds his breath as the vigilante sucks in a few huge gulps of air before spitting out, “Go to hell, Stark.”

Tony just chuckles, clicking his tongue. “Oh, I will, I’m sure. But at this rate, you’re going to get there first.” He presses him a little harder against the wall, grip tightening again and ignoring the way the bits of brick and concrete pour down around them like rain. “I didn’t want to do this, kid, truly. But if you think I won’t kill you, you’re wrong. And if you think your loved ones won’t be targets if you don’t quit your shit, you’d also be wrong. I don’t like to be cruel, but I am what you make me, and I won’t stand for this any longer, Peter.”

The use of his name has a visible impact on the kid. He gasps, and his grip on his wrist tightens enough around the metal of his suit that it bends around his fingers and it actually hurts. Tony’s grip around his throat slackens a little automatically, and he frowns. It’s weird. It almost… burns? That’s not what a bruise or metal cut should feel like...

And then he hears it. The teen sucks in a breath, and in a broken, raspy whisper, gasps, “Please don’t...”

The effect is instantaneous. The slight burning in his wrist turns into a wildfire, like a brand, hot and burning and fuck does it hurt for that second. He responds automatically, jerking his hand back as if scalded, and watching almost in slow motion as the younger man crumples to the floor. It takes a moment longer than it probably should for him to realize exactly what’s happening, and then the suit melts off his body and he stares in horror as the color seems to settle in his soul words, now shining a bold black from where they sit on the inside of his left wrist.

Heart thundering in his chest, he stares for a long minute before snapping out of it and rushing to his side. He’s passed out, now, though from lack of oxygen or shock or what, he can’t be sure right now.

Carefully, so carefully, he tugs off his mask, both wanting to see his face for real and knowing he should see how bad the damage to his throat is. It catches him off guard at first, how gorgeous he is, and then how young, despite Jarvis already showing him both of those things earlier. He’s still marveling, though. Could this really be his soulmate? Oh, what is he going to do?

He forces the thoughts away for a moment, checking Peter’s throat. It’s ringed with finger-shaped bruises, but it doesn’t look too severe. He leans his head down, listening at his chest. Now that he’s got proper airflow back he doesn’t seem to be wheezing or otherwise struggling to breathe. So he should be fine.

Fine, physically, except for the fact that he’s Tony’s soulmate. That they’re branded together now, a link between their very souls keeping them from being able to end this in a way either of them would have imagined.

It’s funny. With how long he’d wanted this, he should be ecstatic. Instead he’s just… numb. A whole host of emotions rages inside him, and he can’t allow himself to acknowledge any of them until he figures out what to do.

For now, there’s only really one thing he can do. His soulmate is hurt, in more ways than one. He needs medical attention, to a certain extent, and they need to talk. Waiting around here until Peter wakes up isn’t going to be ideal for fixing either of those things.

So he bends down and scoops Peter up, cradling his unconscious form close to him. Then, with a tired sigh, he takes to the skies again, carrying them back towards the tower, glowing in the distance like a lighthouse in the sand, beckoning him to shore.

He has a feeling actually finding the shore is going to be a long time coming, but this is the first step he can take to finding it. He just hopes they’ll both be able to tread through these rough waters long enough to get there.

#starker #ironspider #iron spider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #sim tony #alpha tony stark #omega peter parker #abo dynamics #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #soulmate au #soulmates #soulmarks #soulwords #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker

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benhardyisdaddy · 4 years

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(i hope that whoever requested this, likes it!!! and i hope you all do too!)

WARNING: numerous mentions of violence, violence, mention of implied smut

Word Count: 4,179

Description: you are now known as eight. four can’t keep his eyes off of you as he desperately tries to figure you out.

It started out like a perfectly normal Sunday morning. You were at home with a cup of coffee in your hand while you're sat on your porch. The sun was rising and the colors in the sky were beautiful. This was your favorite thing to do on your days off. Your work schedule had been hectic, but that was your fault. Ever since your boyfriend left you, you tried to keep yourself as busy as you possibly can so you didn’t have to think about it. You consumed yourself with work and it helped, but only slightly.

At one point in your life, you were an informant for the Secret Services. You had been an orphan all of your life until one day, that changed. You were six years old when someone finally adopted you. You weren’t allowed to meet the person until you arrive at your destination - the middle of nowhere in Nevada. You weren’t adopted to be apart of a loving family, you were adopted to be groomed for the Secret Service. Your ‘father’ made it his mission to train you for anything and everything. You had to grow up too quickly. You never got a childhood as you were trained in every single class of self defense, weaponry and manipulation. They needed someone they could shape and mold into the deadliest human weapon possible - and they did.

When you turned eighteen, you were trained in the art of seduction. You knew exactly what to say, how to act, how to read people and know exactly what they’re thinking. It truly was a special talent forced onto you and you were amazing at your job. That is, until you quit that job. You were beyond amazing at what you do - they would say the best they’ve ever had, but that wasn’t the life you wanted. You wanted a family… love. When you realize you’d never get that, you went cold. You found yourself hating your ‘father’, hating your job… Hating life. That’s why you decided to leave. Run away and hide. That is...until you were found.

You made a life in a small boring town, with a small boring life and got with a boring guy - that is until he left. You were used to that now though. You had been on your porch and watching the colors of the sky change. You decide to get up and go get some more coffee. As you’re about to reach the door, someone behind you speaks.

“You’re a hard one to find.”

Suddenly, your cup is crashing to the ground as you whip around fast. You’re not even thinking as you fluently grab a man by his collar and slam him against the side of your house. You grab his arm as you hold it behind his back. He shouts in pain at the sudden attack.

“Holy shit! I didn’t think you were that good!” he hisses with his face shoved into the wall.

“Who the fuck are you!?” you scream.

“I’m not here to hurt you!” the man shouts. “My name’s One and I have a proposition for you!”

***

It took you several minutes to finally release the man. You didn’t let your guard down as it takes you less than ten seconds to evaluate him. He’s weaponless and you can tell by his body movement. He’s cautious and is more nervous of you than you are of him - as it should be. Your jaw is tensed as you stand up and tell him to sit down on the chair you were previously sat in. You listen as he explains anything and everything.

“We need someone like you.” he says once he’s finished. “I read everything there is to know about you. We need a charmer.”

If you were anyone else, all of this would sound completely insane and terrifying, but you weren’t just anyone else. You were you and you’ve heard and seen crazier things. This actually all made sense. Something about what he was saying was pulling you in. As if everything you had trained for was for this moment. You were already alone in the world, how would faking your death make that any worse?

“The charmer?” you ask with a raised brow. “That’s what you want to call me?”

One just shrugs and smiles as he thinks.

“That’s what you do, right? You charm people and get them to tell you whatever it is you want.”

You’re quiet for a moment before you step forward and change your entire mood. Your face softens and you half smile.

“I like your eyes. My mother had the same color as you.”

“Oh really?” he asks. “I get the color from my mother. She and my father-”

He stops suddenly and looks up to you with a surprised face. Your eyes are narrowing as you smirk.

“I see what you did there.” he says impressed. “You almost had me talking about my family life. That was amazing.”

“I don’t even know my mother.” you remind him with a smirk. “So... When do I become a ghost?”

***

You faked your death and finally decided to go watch your funeral. You were shocked to find that only six people arrived. Your adopted father was there as he shed no tears. Typical emotionless SS. You stare at the man you call dad and turn around to storm away. You were done with him, with everything. Your new life was ahead of you there’s no looking back now. One was by your side the whole time until you get to headquarters. You were the last person joining the crew. They were to call you Eight. You’re holding your bags as you follow behind One and into the abandoned plane that they call home.

“Everyone,” calls out One. “I’d like to introduce you to our new ghost. Meet Eight. Eight, meet everyone.”

All eyes are on you as you just nod your head. Your eyes scan their faces when you pause on the blonde who’s known as Four. You look away fast, but feel his eyes still on you. You look over as one of the men smirks and walks up to you.

“One says that your some big Secret Service machine, but look at you,” Three laughs as he walks in front of you. “So tiny. What does she do? Fight flies?”

He’s looking over at One as he laughs and everyone else rolls their eyes. You tense your jaw as your bags hit the floor and your hand grabs his wrist. You scream out as you fly forward and kick as his ankles. You bend over and fling him over your back and onto the ground with a loud thud. Everyone gasps as he coughs hard and tries to catch his breath. You stand up and act like you didn’t just do that. You bend down and grab your bags as you look over to One.

“Where am I staying?”

“If I show you, will you promise to never do that to me?” he asks with wide eyes.

***

One Month Later

You’ve gotten used to the group and understand the mission. One’s still doing some research on one specific person you’re trying to track. You’re sat on a chair as Seven and Four talk. You look out the small window and watch as One walks by.

“What’s up with One? What’s his story? How does someone become that rich, yet be so unknown?”

“He loves Wally the dog,” starts Four as he looks through old passports. “He loves his ‘beaver’ show. I think he’s an orphan.”

Four turns around to look at you and Seven, but his eyes stay on you.

“Actually, we got a little bet on if you wanna put some money in.”

“I’m an orphan.” you say with the most serious face ever.

Four’s face drops as he looks beyond guilty and embarrassed. He sits up straighter and looks to Seven and back to you.

“Oh… I-I didn’t know. I’m sorr-”

This makes you break out into a smile as you watch Fours horrified expression. He’s confused for a moment, but finally understands.

“I’m messing with you. I mean, I am one, but it’s no big deal.”

You watch Fours face as he goes through several mixed emotions. This causes you to laugh lightly as he finally does the same. He shakes his head and looks down - obviously impressed by how amazing your acting had just been.

“Wow. You can laugh.” jokes Seven. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that.”

You roll your eyes and look back down at your hands as Four speaks up.

“I like it.” he says sweetly with his eyes on you. “Your laugh I mean.”

You look up to him as your eyes lock. You feel your face turn red as you find yourself half smiling. You swallow hard and clear your throat as you stand up fast. The boys watch you as you find something to say.

“I’m gonna go ask Three if he wants to practice.” you say quickly.

You hurry out of the plane and have to catch your breath. Four looks away sadly at your leaving while Seven looks to him.

“You like her.” he tells him.

Fours eyes go wide as he looks to him and tries to act confused.

“What? That’s insane.” he laughs.

“Oh really? Ask those hearts in your eyes.”

And with that, Seven turns around and walks out as well - leaving Four by himself with a big smile on his face.

***

3 Weeks Later

“This is bullshit.” you hiss as you pace by and forth.

You and Four got stuck being the ones to stay in a hotel room and keep an eye on a man that’s staying in another hotel in front of you. You have a giant patio that looks out directly to the man’s hotel room across a tiny road. Four has binoculars over his eyes as a large radio and a device to hear far away are set up on the table next to him.

“We should both be out doing field work too.” you say as you continue to pace.

You act like you’re upset over that, but that’s not the main reason. You’re alone with Four in a hotel room. The man has you seeing stars every time you look at him. He messes with your head and causes you to forget what you were doing. You don’t realize that you do the same thing to him. You need to concentrate and it’s too hard to.

“You aren’t at least a bit happy that we get to chill and get room service whenever?” he teases.

He leans away and places the binoculars next to him. He frowns and shakes his head as he stares out the window.

“I’m taking a break. There’s nothing to watch for. The guy’s not even there.”

He sounds frustrated as he stands up and stretches. You look away fast as he looks to you and stares.

“You know, out of everyone here, you’re the one I can’t seem to figure out.” he says with narrowed eyes.

You swallow hard as you just shrug. You walk over to the bed and sit on the end of it.

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask. “There’s a reason why One doesn’t want us to know names. We’d get attached.”

“Bullshit.” says Four quietly as he shakes his head. “Several of us have almost died for each other. If that’s not being attached, then I don’t know what is.”

You silently watch him as he begins pacing the room now. His hands are on his hips as he keeps speaking.

“I know maybe two things about you. You worked for the SS and you were an orphan. That’s it. I know more about everyone else than I do you.”

He seems almost frustrated as you stand up and narrow your eyes.

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

He stops walking and turns to face you. His cheeks are pink as his lips are parted - deep in thought. He just shrugs as his eyes go wide slightly.

“I mean… It-it doesn’t matter. I just…”

He continues speaking almost gibberish as you slowly walk up to him and find yourself only inches away. Four straightens himself up and stares into your eyes as he goes serious. You raise a brow and look to his lips, then back to his eyes.

“Do you want to kiss me?” you ask fast, catching him off guard.

You already knew the answer. You know how to watch for signs and Four was definitely letting off signs that he wanted you. You’ve known that from the moment you met him. It wasn’t a secret. You’re just better at hiding your feelings.

“What?” he whispers. “Um, I don’t kn… I don’t know-”

Before his can fully answer, you lunge forward and land your lips on his. Four gasps slightly at your sudden actions, but quickly goes along with it. The kiss is hot and fast as your hands travel up and down each others bodies. Four cups your face with his hands and begins slowly walking towards the bed. The back of your legs hit it as you fall onto your back. He’s looking down at you with hunger in his eyes.

“How did you know I wanted to kiss you?” he asks.

Suddenly, he leans forward and grabs your hips as he harshly flips you over on your stomach. You moan as he leans forward and presses his chest with your back. He kisses your neck and shoulder as your eyes flutter closed.

“I’m just really good at my job.” you tease, causing Four to almost growl in your ear.

He leans away and flips you back over. He kisses down your neck and slowly trails down your chest.

“Wait,” he says out of breath as he looks up to you. “Can I know your name?”

You tense your jaw as you smirk down to him.

“Maybe one day.” you whisper.

Four watches you with dark eyes as he shakes his head and laughs. He goes back to kissing you as he slowly makes his way down in between your thighs. Your eyes squeeze closed as your back arches up from the bed. Man, did you love being right.

***

Several months have passed as you all are still on the hunt for the man One wants to find. You all got word that he’s walking around an outside town plaza that’s filled with shops and people. You’ve partnered with Three as the two of you keep your eye out for the man.

“Remember what he looks like?” he asks you quietly.

You both have large sunglasses on as you peer around secretly.

“Yep.” you tell him when you spot Four on the other side of the road.

He’s watching you and gives you a small wink. You fight back a smile as you lightly shake your head and look away. The two of you have secretly had a fling ever since the night in the hotel. Nobody knows about it and you want it to stay that way.

“Eight!” harshly whispers Three as his eyes spot something about five shops away.

You look over fast and freeze. The man you’re trying to locate has been spotted, but he’s surrounded by three men in black outfits.

“We have eyes on him.” you say low into your headpiece.

“Don’t let him leave your sight!” shouts One through your ear.

“Copy.” is all you say back.

Suddenly, the man turns his head and he locks onto you. He narrows his eyes as he concentrates. Your heart almost stops beating as his face falls. All of you had almost gotten him a few weeks ago, but the mission was a bust. You did your part perfectly as you seduced him back to his room. It was the rest of the crew that had messed up. You had a knife to your throat, but luckily you knew how to fight your way out of that. He got away, but not for long.

You know for a fact that he’s recognized you. You’re panicking as Three walks beside you and looks around fast. Four realizes that you’ve been compromised as he begins to freak out.

“He spots them!” he hisses into the earpiece. “He sees them!”

Three grabs your wrist and forces you to look at him. The man and his small army begin walking your way as his eyes were still glued to you. You stare at Three as you begin to rub his arm and laugh as if he’s said something funny. He looks at you confused until he understands. He joins in as the man gets closer. You swallow hard just as he whispers to you.

“Go along with me.”

You’re confused as he grabs your face and begins kissing you like crazy. You’re taken aback, but finally go with it. You grab at his face as you speed up the kiss. His hands are flying all over your body as you try to hide both of your faces. Four is watching you two with wide eyes and a jealous heart. He tenses his jaw and absolutely hates watching another man touch you like he does. The two of you continue when you hear One pop up on your earpiece.

“What in god's name is that noise?” he asks. “Is… Is someone kissing!?”

Four clears his throat as he watches the man look at you two and quietly pass by with no interruptions. When it’s all clear, you shove Three away and wipe your mouth off. You’re breathing hard as you look for the man and spot him rounding the corner.

“Let’s go.” you say as you look to Four.

He’s watching you closely and raises a brow. You give him a sympathetic smile and shrug. You all begin to slowly make your way closer to the man. Three’s behind you as you slowly round the corner by yourself. Just as you do, there are screams all around as everyone begins running away. Four doesn’t understand what’s happening as he sprints to find you. He rounds the corner and stops. The man has you with his arm around your chest and a gun to your head. You’re remaining calm, but Four can see the terror in your eyes. The rest of the three men all have their guns drawn and pointed at Four and Three.

“Let her go!” shouts Four loudly.

His face was red with anger as he balls his hands into fists at his side. The man just laughs as he jerks you around with him. His squeeze tightens as you gasp. You can’t look away from Four as he stares at you.

“You think the two of you can take out the four of us!?” he laughs.

Suddenly, in less than two seconds, a quiet bullet flies through the air and in one quick motion - pierces all three of the men in the head. They happened to be in a perfect row as Seven fired. Three birds with one bullet. They fall to the ground as everyone flinches. The man looks at the dead men and now he’s the one with fear in his eyes. He looks back to Four and Three as he pushes the gun even harder against your head.

“I’ll kill her!” he screams.

All of a sudden, the man goes still as he thinks. He tenses his jaw and suddenly lets out a loud shout.

“You’re going to kill me anyways!” he screams.

He then grabs your neck and turns you around to face him. He’s squeezing tight as he flings you to the ground and you hit your back harshly. All of the wind is knocked out of you as you gasp. You hear Four screaming something when a loud bang is heard. It’s as if everything went in slow motion. The bullet ripped through the air and hit you in the shoulder. You were in complete shock as the pain hadn’t hit you yet.

Just as the man pulled his trigger, he was down on the ground in a matter of seconds. Your vision became blurry as you look around and see doubles of everything. Four is down at your side as he holds your head and tries talking to you. He’s crying hard as he shakes his head no repeatedly. Three is next to you as he presses down on the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Eight’s been shot!” he screams. “She’s been shot! We need Five!”

“Stay with us! You’re going to be okay! Don’t close your eyes!”

You were losing a lot of blood and you knew it. Your head was light and there was a light ring in your ears. You listen as others from the group finally show up and rushed to help.

“Please don’t leave me!” Four begs with a harsh whisper.

You flutter your eyes and slowly open to look at him once more. He’s watching you as you slightly smile and then wince from the pain. Five was trying to get the bullet out as fast as she can. You ignore it as you look back to him.

“Y/n,” you say quietly.

Fours face drops as more tears rush down his cheeks.

“What?” he asks shocked.

“You said we’ve all almost died for each other and you don’t even know our names. It’s y/n.”

Four finally understands as his face scrunches up and turns red as another wave of tears hits him hard. His breathing is hitched as he runs his hand against your cheek and smiles - his chin quivering.

“That’s a beautiful name.” he whispers. “I’m Billy.”

You smile more as your eyes flutter closed and your hand cups his face gently.

“Bill…” you trail off as sleep starts to hit you. “Billy…” you barely whisper.

Your hand falls to your side as Billy’s eyes go wide. He grabs your face and tries to wake you back up.

“Y/n?! Wake up, y/n!? Please wake up! Don’t leave me!”

He’s screaming loudly as Seven walks up and tries to pull him back. He’s fighting against him as he watches your lifeless body just laying there.

“Give me room!” shouts Five as she tries to still remove the bullet.

“I didn’t get to tell her!” Billy cries out. “I need to tell her!”

Seven grabs Billy’s shoulder and turns him around to look at him. He lowers his head and looks him in the eye.

“She loves you too, man.” he says quietly, causing Billy to go still.

Seven must have known all along and never said a word. Billy’s heart breaks as he continues to look at him in shock.

“She loves you too.”

Billy is silent as Seven brings him in for a hug. Seven was right, you loved him too.

***

2 Days Later

“Mmm,” you groan in your sleep as your eyes squeeze together.

You move your head around as someone begins yelling out for Five.

“She’s waking up! She’s waking up!”

You take in a deep breath as your eyes flutter open, but fall closed again. You groan some more when you hear voices surrounding you.

“Eight?” Five asks with a slow tone of voice. “Eight? If you can hear us, try to open your eyes.”

You do hear her. Your eyes flutter open once more and this time they stay half open. You’re peeking out as you spot a blurry version of Five, Billy and Three. They’re all staring at you with worried expressions. Your eyes scan to Billy as they slowly close once more. This time, a smirk fills your face.

“You look nothing like a Billy.” you barely whisper, causing him to laugh loudly.

He was beyond happy that you’re awake and okay. Tears are in his eyes as he smiles huge, as does everyone else. He kneels next to your bed as his hand gently runs through your hair.

“I was so worried about you.” he whispers.

You open your eyes and half smile at his soft expression.

“Is it because you like me?” you tease as you slightly laugh, your eyes closing once more.

Billy’s quiet for a moment as he leans forward more and gently runs his fingers over your cheek.

“It’s the other ‘L’ word… actually.” he whispers for only you to hear.

You’re taken aback as you look to him fast. Your face is serious, but turns into a small smile. You move your hand over as you grab his. He lightly gives it a squeeze as he brings it up to his mouth and kisses it.

“I… I ‘L’ you too.” you tease with a smirk.

Billy looks beyond thrilled that you had just said it back to him. He can’t stop smiling as he bends down and softly kisses you.

The girl who wanted a family, finally did. The girl who wanted to be needed, finally is. The girl who wanted to be loved, finally was.

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