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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

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Peña’s Anatomy — Two

pairing: doctor au!javier peña x resident!reader

chapter rating: E (smut, mentions of gore, talk of surgery, unprotected sex)

word count: <6.1k

authors note: since i’m not a medical professional and only know what greys has taught me, the majority of the information on the cases in this series will be taken from Grey’s Anatomy. i’m also aware it’s not super accurate to real life hospital life!

series masterlist

“Do you want me to beg? Because we both know I’m too good for that.”

Javier was following the chief of surgery through the halls of the hospital, attempting to convince the man to remove you from his service.

“Javi, you’re the best neurosurgeon in this half of the country and you’re begging me to remove a third year resident from your service because…?” The old man stopped at his office door and looked at his protege with a scowl. Javier sighed and shrugged.

“First off, I’m not begging. Too good for that, remember? Secondly, it’s…because she’s not a good fit for neuro. That’s it…that’s…yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter. All I know is that she’s not the right fit, and I can’t do my job if I have to keep checking in on my residents all fucking day. Send her to cardio or trauma or OB, for fucks sake. Neil seemed to love her when she was on his service.” Javier sounded like a whiny child as he pleaded his case.

“Fine. Send her to the ER. Whatever it takes for you to go away and do your job.” He sighed and opened up the door to his office, Javier smiling and nodding proudly at himself as the Chief shut his door on him.

The past week since realizing his attraction for you had been absolute torture for the man. Everything you did filled him with a teenage-boy like desire. Things he never even realized got him going now made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. The way your hand brushed his in the OR while you handed him forceps, the way you yawned when you stepped out of the on-call room with a big stretch, the kindness and attention you paid to every single human who interacted with you—it all made him feel like he was lit on fire from the inside.

This morning, it all became too much for him to handle. He was standing in the hallway with Jessica, trying to gently convey his disinterest in continuing their sexual relationship when you walked into the hospital with Mickey. It was the first sunny day in a few weeks, the early morning light shining on your face as you laughed at something your friend said. Your hair was up for the first time since he’d met you, and the sight hit him right in the chest, his lips parting and ears tuning out whatever it was that the nurse was trying to say to him.

“Dr. Peña, Jessica.” You nodded at him with a soft half-smile as you passed him, his eyes following you until you disappeared down the hall.

“So what do you say?” Jessica’s hand on his forearm brought his attention back to her, his lips parting as his eyes took in her sultry smirk.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you want to meet me in the on-call room.” She began to look discouraged as Javier opened his mouth to reject her. “What’s with you lately? You’re not fucking me, you’re not fucking any of the other nurses that I know. Are you just not…fucking anybody?”

“It’s been a busy few weeks.” He stood up off the counter he’d been leaning on and knocked on it. “I’ll see you around, Jessica.”

•••

“Did you see him all over Jessica? How dare he? After asking me if you were single? Men.”

“Men.” You agreed with Mickey as the two of you changed into your scrubs. “I still don’t believe he actually asked you that.”

“He did!” She insisted with a chuckle, earning another look of disbelief from you. “Okay, the laugh made it sound like I’m lying, but I promise he did.”

“What exactly was his phrasing? Are you sure he didn’t say it sarcastically, like ‘who would possibly date her’, you know? Was it genuine?” You hated that you even cared to know what his intentions were.

“He just said, ‘Is Lucky seeing anybody?’. Not much tone behind it because he was grumpy, remember?” You tried to hide your blush at the sound of the question you’d been making your friend repeat ever since it was first posed.

You knew there was nothing good that would come from you falling down this rabbit hole of wondering what your attending felt for you, or if he even felt anything, but thanks to your upcoming period, that wasn’t really in your control anymore. Your hormones were spiking thanks to your ovulation, and that meant it was much more difficult to be as level minded as you typically were.

“Are you going to go for it?” Mickey interrupted your hormonal longing, nudging your side. You scoffed once you registered her question, earning a look of amusement from the brunette. “Oh, you’re such a bad liar.”

“I’m not—I haven’t lied. I’m not going to do anything about it because it’s not allowed, remember?”

“Oh, so that’s the only thing stopping you?” She chuckled again as your chief resident paged you both for morning rounds.

“No, it’s not the only thing stopping me. He’s also a whore. He’s probably a walking STD.” You knew that she was buying your disinterest. You weren’t even buying it. “Listen, of course I’ve thought about it. He’s…handsome. And talented. And…have you seen how he is with kids? It’s like he becomes an entirely different man. He’s sweet and caring and…”

Mickey gave you a side eye and a smirk as you realized how much you’d been going on and on about this man you supposedly had no interest in.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mick.” You sighed and hung your head. “I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“About what?” You looked over your shoulder to take in the man in question, surprised by the lack of his typical cocky smirk whenever he talked to you. He looked different, less self-assured, perhaps. His eyes hardly met yours as he joined this morning’s huddle.

“Um, my, uh…”

“Her washer and dryer broke.” Mickey spoke up when you couldn’t, your mind making a mental note to buy her lunch today to thank her.

“Oh? And you’re not going to do anything about that, Lucky?” He chuckled, but even that sounded…off. Not as full of amusement as it normally was. “Sounds like something you should probably do something about.”

“Doctors, is our morning huddle interrupting your conversation?” Your chief resident crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at all three of you, including Dr. Peña.

“It’s my bad, Dr. Thomas. You know how I like to cause a distraction.” He turned away from you to give her a more sincere smile, the action making you feel a bit slighted for some unknown reason.

“Take your residents and go, Dr. Peña.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him against her will, his trademark charm working its magic on her.

“Alright, kids. You heard the doctor.” He waved his hand and you joined the few residents who had been assigned to his service as they started to follow him down the hall.

“Where are you going?” You looked down at your arm, Dr. Thomas stopping you with her hand.

“I’m on Dr. Peña’s service?”

“No, you’re in the ER according to the chief.” You watched as Mickey stopped in the hall and gestured for you to come along. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders before locking eyes with Dr. Peña. He looked…guilty? Was that it? “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to go down to the pit like I just told you—”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m going.” You sucked up your feelings and turned around, following the lackies of the surgical program down stairs to the Emergency Department.

•••

Javier felt like absolute shit seeing you standing in that hallway looking so…disappointed. How selfish could he be?

It was clear that you had your heart set on neurosurgery, and contrary to what he told the Chief, you really did have a knack for it. But now you were down in the pit with the duds of the program, tending to broken bones and cuts. It wasn’t fair to you to suffer just because he felt ditzy with attraction anytime he was around you.

It seemed like there was no escaping himself now that you were around. You were making him hyper-aware of his faults and flaws, all while looking like that. It was a strange mix of feelings you stirred in him, and those feelings grew more and more unbearable with each passing day.

He wished there was some part of him that could step up and make a decision—do something about it or leave you alone—but either of the choices sounded equally like a bad idea, just another thing for him to regret.

“Alright, good morning, Mr. Levangie. These are my group of surgical residents, one of them will be assisting me on your case.” Javier sighed and exhaled all his personal problems once he walked his small team of residents into this mornings first patient’s room. He was an old man, his body riddled with constant tremors from his late-stage Parkinson’s disease. “Who’s presenting?”

Mickey watched as the nurses helped the man back into bed while Javier scanned his group of residents. With a clearing of her throat, she raised her hand and stepped forward with the chart, Javier giving her a nod.

“Edward Levangie is a 63 year-old man admitted for pain management for dyskinesia. He’s been stable since last night, and is responding well to the Bolus injections.” She looked up at Javier with an intimidated but knowing look, her blue eyes quickly flickering back down to the chart in her hands.

“Dr. Russel, what are the possible treatments?” Javier asked, turning to Michael, Mickey’s sort-of-hookup and the program’s cockiest surgeon.

“For Parkinson’s, um—“

“Not for Parkinson’s, for spinal pain.” Javier turned his eyes back to your closest friend. “Dr. Brown?”

“Uh, an intraspinal catheter. That way he can have a constant flow of pain medication.” He nodded with an impressed look, turning to his patient.

“This is Dr. Brown, she’s going to be assisting me on your procedure, Mr. Levangie.” Turning to the group of residents, Javier nodded and gestured them out of the room.

“Dr. Peña,” Mickey waited behind to walk beside Javier, his neck already burning as he listened to her tone. She was the only person besides Javier that knew about his little crush, and he hoped to god that she’d just pretend he never said anything about it as she began speaking again. “Why’d you take her off Neuro? She’s the best in the program when it comes to this—“

“Dr. Lucky will be just as lucky down in the pit. Besides, any neuro that comes through will be hers for the taking.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke in an almost whisper, speeding up so that he wouldn’t have to be subject to more of this questioning about the thing he so deeply wanted to stop thinking about.

•••

“What do we have?” Dr. Thomas, the chief resident, was running the show down in the pit when a gunshot wound victim came hauled in on a gurney by paramedics. You’d been tending to tiny wounds and “chest pains” for the past 10 hours of your 36-hour shift, your mind far more tired than your body, but both seemed to perk up at the prospect of finally getting a surgical case.

“Um, Juan Medina, 36 years-old. History of kidney failure and diabetes. Took one GSW to the chest and one to the—to the head?” You looked over at the patient who was bloodied and in and out of consciousness, but was completely responsive and very much alive.

“Page Peña and Mann.” Dr. Thomas ordered one of the surgical interns on the same service as you, the young doctor in training running off to the nurses station. You aided the medics in lifting the patient onto the hospital bed in one of the trauma rooms while your chief resident ordered everyone around. “Lucky, push 5 of morphine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You walked around to the IV and injected the five milligrams of morphine into the drip. While you were shuffling about and assisting with the patient’s intake, Dr. Peña walked in along with the head of Cardiology, Dr. Mann. You had yet to work on his service or interact with him much, but taking one look at him you began to wonder how many more attractive and relatively young surgeons were at this hospital.

“Dr. Thomas,” Dr. Mann walked up to your chief resident and took over for her as she packed the gun shot wound at the patients chest. “Who’s your intern?”

“Not an intern, third year. This is—“

“Dr. Lucky.” Peña half smiled as your eyes flickered to his, his quickly dropping as he held up his flashlight to the patient’s eyes. “Mr. Medina, can you follow the light for me?”

“Am I going to die?” The man groaned as he blinked, his brain fighting to stay conscious through the injuries.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to keep you alive, Medina.” You chimed in as you watched the attendings work, Dr. Mann flickering his eyes to yours.

“You’re a third year?” He asked as he raised the side railing of the hospital bed, you following suit as you stood across from him, nodding in confirmation. “You ever scrubbed in on heart surgery?”

“N-no, I’ve mostly done OB and Neuro.” He chuckled and shook his head as he began wheeling the man out of the trauma room, Peña pushing from the top of the bed as the three of you plus your team of nurses walked the patient to the elevator.

“Once you get a taste of Cardio, that’s all you’re gonna want.” He winked at you, your cheeks heating up as you looked ahead to the elevator.

“Well, as luck has it, I’m apparently not a ‘good fit’ for Neuro, so…maybe a change would be nice.” Your eyes flickered to Dr. Peña’s, his jaw clenched and eyes locked on you long before you ever turned to him. He shook his head in the slightest of ways, so slight that anyone not blatantly staring may have missed it, his eyes rolling.

“Well, Dr. Peña, looks like you just lost a fellowship candidate.” Dr. Mann shot his fellow attending a cocky smirk, Javier’s eyes pointed and jaw clenched so tight you began to wonder if his teeth were in danger.

“How about we focus on saving the patient rather than recruitment, Dr. Mann?” The tone Dr. Peña used both stirred you and scared you, your eyes quickly turning to check the patients vital signs just so that you wouldn’t get scolded as well.

•••

Once you get a taste of Cardio, that’s all you’re gonna want…Looks like you just lost a fellowship candidate…

Javier knew his fellow attending much too well at this point to think that he was just offering his mentor services to you. But you seemed to be at least somewhat oblivious to his advances, which eased his jealousy a bit. Still, the last thing Javier needed was a fellow attending—a fellow department head—to come around and break all the rules Javier was so desperately trying to remind himself he had to keep.

The three of them stood at the sink basins in the scrub room, each of them using their soap to scrub away at their hands and arms while the OR nurses prepped and dressed the patient. Dr. Mann was the first to leave, going inside with his hands held up in the air until his team of nurses could gown and glove him.

Javier turned to you as you scrubbed away at you fingernails, his eyes wandering down your forearms to your delicate fingers, your nails painted candy apple red. He found himself imagining what your hands would look like sliding down his chest to the waistline of his scrubs, taking the time to untie them or simply ripping them off so that you could get to where he needed you most.

“Do you have a problem with me, Dr. Peña?” Your sudden words and sharp tone tore him away from his lustful daydream. His eyes widened a bit in surprise and lips parted just the slightest as he took in your anger? Sadness? No, disappointment. That’s what it was.

“Wha—“

“You bully me like a little kid, give me a stupid nickname that now everyone uses, then you kick me off your fucking service because I’m not a good fit? I carried your fucking service the entire time I was on it while everyone else struggled to even intubate for fucks sake.” Javier noticed your self-control, your volume kept at a low and calm level but your words contradicting it. His lips parted further to speak, head slightly shaking in cluelessness as he studied your frustrated resolve.

“You think the nickname I gave you is stupid?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that he should have said literally anything else. You scoffed and shook off the excess water on your arms, ignoring his eyes as you walked behind him to step into the OR. Javier’s eyes closed in frustration as he watched you through the mirror, Dr. Mann’s eyes locked on you as well.

“Fuck this.” He grumbled and rinsed off his arms, joining the two of you in the operating room rather than watching from the sidelines.

“Peña, finally joining us.” Mann called out as Javier got gowned and gloved, his scrub nurse placing his headlamp and magnified glasses over his scrub cap before he could walk over to the patient. “I was just telling Dr. Lucky about my first time…in heart surgery, of course.”

“Lucky her. Scalpel.” He replied blandly, holding his hand out as he got to work. He hoped the adrenaline of surgery would help to drown out his colleague’s flirting, but a part of him knew that was wishful thinking.

•••

“Dr. Lucky, it appears your magic is wearing off on our patient. The bullet missed all of his vital organs. Heart looks good, lungs look good. Just gotta find the bullet and extract it.” You looked further into the chest where Dr. Mann had his fingers buried for the last two hours, the light on his headlamp shining on a bit of metal. “There it is. Forceps.”

“I gotta say,” you watched as the doctor smiled behind his mask and held up the bloodied bullet. “Cardio is nice, but nothing beats looking at the human brain.”

“Oh? Still a nonbeliever? Perhaps I pegged you wrong, doctor.” He dropped the forceps in a metal pan along with the bullet.

“It depends on what you pegged me for.” You shrugged, trying your best not to flirt with the doctor, but he was making it a task with his tone and masked grin.

“Pegged you for someone who liked to have fun. A little fiery. Passionate, perhaps.” He winked at you as he worked on closing the patients chest. Your eyes flickered over to Peña’s for some reason, but he was locked in on his work.

It started to happen again, that attraction to his focus and skill. The cardio-thoracic surgeon in front of you was no doubt good at his job, but he was cocky and talkative—two things that always turned you off in a man. But Dr. Javier Peña was quiet, a bit brooding, perhaps, when he was in the OR. His eyes were laser focused on his work, the high stakes of his field adding onto how impressive he was.

You only wished that he wasn’t a complete asshole to you. Then maybe…

No. The lustful and far too hopeful fantasies had to end. You desperately needed to quit imagining him taking you in some on-call room out of sheer passion and ruining you for all men—the fantasy that had been your favorite as of lately.

“Alright, Dr. Lucky. Looks like we’re done here.” He sewed the last suture and set down his instruments in a metal tray, backing away from the table and tearing off his gown and gloves. You remained by the patient, eyes flickering to Dr. Peña. “Oh, are you going to stay to watch Dr. Peña finish up?”

“If that’s not a problem, sir.” He shrugged and gestured at the neurosurgeon.

“Up to the surgeon. I’m going to go up to the, uh, on call room. Get some rest.” He winked at you again before leaving to scrub out. You breathed in at the pompous proposition, turning your eyes to Peña’s.

“C-could I stay? To watch?” You stepped over to the bin to discard your gown and gloves now that the surgery part of your OR experience was over.

“You can watch from the gallery,” he ended his sentence by using your actual last name rather than his nickname for you, the sound of it making your heart constrict in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I’ll stay out of the way, I just want to be able to see the retrieval process up close—“

“From the gallery, doctor. This is my OR and I decide who stays and goes.” He snapped, lifting his eyes to yours finally, the brown having changed to an unmistakeable black that had you sick to the stomach with intimidation.

“Yes, sir.” You sighed and walked into the scrub room, scrubbing out and fighting back tears as you replayed his tone over and over in your head. It was clear the doctor had it out for you, and if there was any doubt in your mind whether his question about your relationship status was a joke or not, it was now gone.

•••

A few hours after you’d left, Javier finally finished closing the patients skull. He noticed early on that you never went up to the gallery to watch, and he didn’t blame you. He was much too harsh when he told you to leave the OR, but after hearing your obvious flirting with his colleague, he didn’t want to be in your presence a second longer.

That feeling was long gone now.

“Hey…have you seen Lucky?” He approached Mickey as she sat in the cafeteria eating her lunch alone.

“I think she’s napping in the one of the on call rooms.” She replied in a curious tone, Peña nodding and walking away without another word.

His blood boiled and mind raced with images of walking in on you with Dr. Mann, though that surely couldn’t still be happening three hours after your departure from the OR…right?

He whipped open the first on call room with a glare, only to be met by two sleeping nurses he’d slept with before. He quickly closed it before continuing down the hall to the next, whipping it open again and finding Dr. Mann passed out and…alone.

Javier breathed a breath of relief at the sight and closed the door with a loud slam, smirking as he walked down the hall to the final on call room, this time gently cracking it open and seeing your sleeping form curled up on the stiff bunk bed mattress. His lips curled into a soft smile as he stepped inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him just for good measure. Even if the two of you were just going to have a talk, he didn’t want any interruptions.

With a soft but firm voice, he called your name, standing by the door as to not scare you with too much of his presence. He watched your eyes slowly peel open and your head lift from the pillow, groggily taking him in.

“Dr. Peña? I’m on my lunch now, so if you need anything—“

“No, I don’t need…well, I don’t need anything like that.” He chuckled and stepped closer, sitting on the foot of the bed as your eyes fully opened, your mind now aware of the intensity of his presence. Javier knew he looked like a nervous teenager as he turned to you, his lips parting at the sight of you so wide eyed with confusion. “I-I just wanted to tell you why I took you off my service. You deserve to know why, Lucky.”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest. Javier wanted to grin at the sight of you attempting to look stern, but knew that wouldn’t be productive.

“I-uh, I asked the chief to take you off, not because I think you’re a bad fit—you’re a great fit, actually. And I’m going to go tell him that after I finish talking to you.”

“So what’s the reason then?” You snapped, your earlier irritation at the man fully returning.

“The reason I didn’t want you around is because…” Javier had never been this nervous to talk to a woman before, and it made him feel sick with anxiety. “Because I guess I have some sort of…attraction to you. It’s stupid, and it was a selfish abuse of power and I’m going to fix it because you don’t deserve that kind of career interference just because I blush everytime you’re around.”

•••

You were absolutely stunned by what you were hearing. It felt like a lucid dream, Peña here in front of you confessing his crush on you? It had to be a dream.

“You’re attracted to me?” You chuckled in disbelief, watching as his face fell a bit at the sound of your amusement. “I’m not a nurse. You know that right?”

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes and stood up, pacing around the room with his hand on his jaw.

“Dr. Peña, are you—“

“Javier. Just call me Javier.” He stopped his pacing and looked down at you with lust blown pupils and a frustrated frown. You sucked in a small and almost unnoticeable gasp at the intensity of his stare, your limbs trembling with nerves as you lifted yourself out of the bunk and onto your feet in front of him. Your mind sounded the “this is a bad idea” alarm as you reached to touch his chest, the firmness not at all surprising. Javier scooped your chin up with his finger, eyes locked on your lips. With a subtle nod, he leaned down, pressing his pout to yours in a soft and testing peck. “Are you sure about this, Lucky?”

“Are you?” You asked as your hands slid up his neck and laced into his dark brown locks, forcing him down against your lips in a more heated kiss. He groaned at the action, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly before his hands started to wander. When he gripped the swell of your ass in his palms, you moaned into the kiss, earning a bite to your lips. “Javier…we can’t let anyone find out about this if we…you know. I don’t want to be looked at like one of your conquests. I’m a surgeon and—“

“You’re not a conquest, this is…you’re more than that.” He breathed against your lips and rested his forehead against yours, your head nodding against his as a silent demand for him not to elaborate any further.

You didn’t need to know what sort of feelings this man had for you because this was a one-off fling. A moment of passion and weakness. It wasn’t going to become some…relationship. It couldn’t.

•••

Javier’s breath hitched as he watched your hands slide down his chest just like he’d been fantasizing about earlier, your red-painted fingernails catching his eye as you took your time in untying his scrub pants.

When he realized he was standing there frozen, he reached for his top, peeling it off his body and tossing it on the mattress while you shucked his pants off. He kicked his shoes to the side and stepped out of his scrubs, letting them pool on the ground as he reached for the hem of your top, peeling it off and letting it lay on the floor with his clothes.

“This is a one time thing,” you breathed out as his lips found your neck, his hands untying your pants and letting them fall to the ground before laying you down on the bunk bed.

“Sure.” He couldn’t be bothered to think about the future of your romance with you underneath him like this, your lips pressing against his collarbone and shoulder as he licked at your pulse. Your hands slid his briefs down just enough to release him, pumping him in your hand as you used your other to slide your underwear to the side, running the bulbous head of his cock up and down your wetness. Javier shivered at the rushed need the two of you shared, desperate to just get right to it due to the time constraint. “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you spoke breathlessly, looking at him with a look of concern before you started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” He chuckled along with you.

“We’re doctors. In a hospital. And I’m considering letting you fuck me raw just because I want you that badly right now.” You chuckled again but this time he didn’t reciprocate, his pupils blowing out with lust again as he listened to your words.

“When’s the last time you got tested?” He asked in a whisper, eyes searching yours.

“When I moved here. There hasn’t been anyone…w-what about you?” His cock twitched as you bit your lip, his mind struggling to string together a coherent response.

“Get tested every month. Clean.” He watched as your lips curled up in a mischievous grin, a moan falling from his lips as you lined his tip up with your entrance, guiding him inside. “Fuck. You feel so fucking…so good.”

His eyes never left your face, watching as your eyelids fluttered closed and brows laced together, a soft moan spilling from your kiss-bitten lips once he became fully seated inside of you. Though he was typically proud of his endurance, he knew this wouldn’t be one of the more impressive times. You felt too good.

“You ready?” He asked you, as he began to draw his thick length out, your eyes opening and head quickly nodding in response. Javier felt his entire body cover with chills as he withdrew himself completely before pressing back into you, steady deep and slow strokes following the initial thrust. With each stroke you grew wetter and more open for him, swallowing him as he punched up towards your spongey ceiling.

“Fuck, Javier,” you panted out below him in a whisper, swallowing the moans he could tell you actually wanted to scream. “Now I know why all the nurses are okay with sharing you. You feel so good.”

“Bebita, need you to touch yourself. Help me make you cum,” he purred in your ear as his head dropped into the nook of your neck. He hummed as you used one hand to snake between your bodies, feeling you circling your swelling clit, the other cradling his head and scratching his scalp. His hands held the back of your thighs, pressing them wide and towards your chest as he languidly slid in and out of you.

•••

Your body felt like it was on a different plane of reality as his cock slid so fucking slowly in and out of your heat, rubbing against every single good nerve inside of your canal like it was put on earth just to please. Your hand tugged on his hair to pull his head back, your eyes locking as you felt your high begin to crescendo.

“You there, bebita? I can feel it. So fucking wet. Squeezing me…I can’t take it.” His brows laced together and you came undone from the sound of the strangled moan that fell from his lips after his words. You struggled to keep your eyes open to watch him as your orgasm hit you hard, your entire body floating through the seas of euphoria like it never had before.

A whine slipped from your lips as you felt him slide out of you and rest the weight of his cock on your belly, hot ropes of his cum coating your skin. You lifted your head off the pillow to watch the sight, your walls clenching in an aftershock of desire as you took in the wet head of his almost purple cock.

“Fuck, bebita. I don’t know if I can take this being a one time thing. Now that I know how good you feel, I’m only gonna want you.”

“Easy to say as an attending,” you joked as you pushed him off you lightly, sitting up and walking over to the en-suite bathroom. You could hear him talking about how he would’ve gotten up and done that for you if you’d given him a second, but you really weren’t paying that much attention. You were already too busy thinking about how absolutely fucked you were now.

The foundation of your ability to not fall for his charm was that you imagined him as being unlovable, no good, and probably shit in bed. Now, at least two of those things were proven wrong.

•••

When Javier stepped behind you in the bathroom, he caught your eyes through the mirror, both of your bodies mostly bare but neither set of eyes drifting lower. With a sinking feeling in his stomach at your sudden distanced demeanor, he began to speak.

“If you regret it, that’s fine. We won’t talk about it. But if you don’t—“

“Let’s just not talk about it.” Your interruption took him by surprise.

Never in all of his womanizing days had he experienced this. You were completely unphased by his skill in bed. He struggled to understand how you could be so casual about what just happened when it was almost life changing for him. You’d just shown him what it was like to fuck someone he had feelings for, and now there was no going back for him. He could never mindlessly hookup with a nurse now that he knew what it was like to make love with you.

“You really want this to be just a one time thing?” He asked, not caring about the hurt in his tone. Though you hesitated for a moment, you soon nodded, your eyes dropping their contact through the mirror as you turned to walk past him out of the bathroom. He ticked his jaw to the side as he followed you, getting dressed alongside you in tense silence. “Can I ask why?”

“Why? Because I’m a resident, Dr. Peña. I still have something to prove, and if Thomas or the Chief get a whiff of something happening between us, I get kicked out of the program. My career would be over before it even started.” He felt his chest pang with sympathy for your situation, also feeling guilty for putting you in the position to deal with this in the first place. “That was great, it really was, but…nothing’s worth risking my career for. I’m sorry if that makes you hate me and you take me off your service—“

“What? No,” he shook his head and stepped closer to you, reaching to grab your shoulders. He quickly removed them when he saw your eyes turn to check out the contact. “I’m not going to punish you because you’re choosing your career. It makes me more proud to have a surgeon like you on my team, actually. You don’t have to worry about that.”

•••

“You know, you’re a lot harder to hate once a person gets to know you.” You gave him a half-smile, making the corner of his mouth turn up as well. “I promise this will stay between us.”

“Me too.” He looked down at his pager as it began to beep, cursing as he read it. “911 to the GSW patient. Come on, Lucky. Looks like we’ve got more work to do.”

“You’re keeping me on his case?” You watched as he poked his head into the hallway, checking for it to be clear before he gestured for you to follow him out.

“Thought you wanted to be back on neuro?” He shot you a smile and a wink over his shoulder as the two of you jogged through the halls to the ICU, a blush sweeping over your cheeks at the sight.

Perhaps he was Dr. Daddy after all.

taglist: @infesstisssumam @outlawedmando @suttonspuds @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson (sorry if your tag isn’t working!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena #javier peña x you #javier peña angst #javier peña fluff #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier peña series #javier peña au

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rosewaterandivy · 6 months

Text

tabernacle, reconstructed

Summary: tabernacle - house of worship, a dwelling place (archaic).

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, if you squint (it's really more of a character study)

WC: 1.2k

Warnings/Themes: 18 +, MINORS DNI. Graphic depictions of violence and sex. Psychological horror/trauma, memory loss, body horror, dark and sacrilegious themes, and mutual corruption.

A/N: please re-read the warnings/themes section above because this is not for everyone. if you can't watch a David Cronenberg film or have issues with any of the warnings above, please move along. and before you can ask, yes, this is a quasi-winter soldier!au

Please do not interact if you aren't 18+.

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not.

Enjoy! 💜

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November 1992

For as long as you can remember, there’s been a knife twisting inside of you.

An ache.

Not debilitating, of course. But just uncomfortable enough to keep you alert and moving.

Stowing your weapon underneath your coat, you step lightly over the mangled bodies and puddles of blood against the gleaming tile floor of the mezzanine.

A wet slice cuts through the air, a soft puff of air released as another body hit the floor.

You wait at the entrance, watching droplets of cold rain flow down the glass door. You hear him before you see him, know his gait well enough by now to anticipate his movement. Hand finding home on his left arm, you allow yourself to be escorted into the dreary winter night.

Warmth flees from your hand, though the cool metal of his arm is hidden under his coat. Stolen from you like so much else; no matter.

He’s quiet after a job. Well, he’s more quiet than not, really, but especially so on this night for some reason.

Passing under a streetlight you pause to adjust his cravat, lips moving imperceptibly. “Lovely job as always, mon lion.”

His mouth curls up, ever so slightly, bemused. “Much obliged, ma louve.”

The rasp of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, pitched lower to avoid suspicion and slightly hoarse from disuse. Your fingers smooth the silk fabric against the column of his throat, watching as he swallows. A brief close lipped smile and you’re off once more.

Into the cold Moscow night.

Someone has been trying to contact you.

The old woman at the pharmacy tells you as much and passes you a scrap of paper hidden under the palm of her hand.

“Be careful, my dear,” she whispers over the crinkling plastic bag.

You nod, pocketing the paper and make your way outside.

The paper burns a hole in your pocket as you descend from the street to the subway platform. A quick case of the joint quells your nerves— just the 5 o’clock rush.

Retreating to the back of the car, you pull a newspaper from your bag and set the note below the fold.

Laika.

Your heart thuds in your chest as you read.

Tretyakov Gallery. 6 PM.

Committing the information to memory, you crumple the note and let it fall from your hand as your exit the car. It falls between the train tracks and will soon be demolished beyond all recognition.

Everything, it seemed, was coming to a head.

December, 1989

Another stint of playing fake aristocrat and no one was the wiser.

A month ago, as the Berlin Wall came down, the pair of you attended the Berlin Ballet’s production of Swan Lake. Regimes rose and fell everyday, and it didn’t matter. A simple change of leadership or economics wasn’t going to effect lasting change.

For something like that, more immediate action was required.

An easy mission, get in, get the intel, and get out or, stay for the ballet. Your first without a handler, a test of loyalty, if you will. How ready Moscow was to put its faith in the pair of you: the asset and his protege, the she-wolf and her lion, Adam and his Lilith.

“Entschuldigung.”

A man apologizes for bumping into you at the bar. Tall and broad, the faintest traces of 5 o’clock shadow coming in.

You partner catches your eye from across the lobby, brows furrowed in concern— hazel eyes bordering on molten gold in the light.

A nod and a smile to both men, assuring one of your safety and the other of your attention.

“Not at all,” you murmur back in English, ear catching the slight clipped nature of his speech. A dead giveaway to the trained ear. “What’ll you have?”

He doesn’t seem to catch your meaning. You nod to the bar expectantly.

“Oh, uh, vodka.”

Turning from him, you order and turn back to the American.

“Far from home, no?”

He laughs, “Surprisingly, not the farthest.”

“Oh?” Your palm meets the crisp edge of the highball glass as you pass it to him. “A world traveler, are we?”

He sips without the expected flinch. “Something like that.”

And then, the American does something very interesting indeed.

September 1990

Robin has always had a knack for languages. Took joy in the simple pleasure of a new conjugation or well honed nasal inflection, rolled r’s, and an indiscernable accent.

It only made sense that she’d pursue languages in college. What was unexpected is that the CIA would take notice. They first made contact while she was working through her capstone in Slavic languages when Hop showed up during office hours.

“Hey kid,” he greeted, in his usual unassuming slouch. As it turned out, he’d been working with the Feds for longer than the party had realized. A quid pro quo for keeping El safe and out of the government’s hands— you do this for us, and the girl will be safe.

“Y’know,” she replies, turning from her reading, “You don’t look like a Ralph Emerson from Russian 101 to me.”

“You caught me.” Hop says shutting the door, settling into the club chair in front of her desk. “Got some news for ya.”

“Really?”

She tries not to let her eagerness show through, learned through hard, long years to keep the hope at bay.

He nods and slides a worn paper across the desktop.

Murray’s cramped handwriting is discernable enough, to the trained eye.

S.H. = KGB asset; per LAIKA

The breath Robin had been holding stutters out.

“D-does this mean—”

“We don’t know,” Hop allows, “Yet, at least.”

“Who’s Laika?”

He prizes the note from her fingers, “That’s classified, junior.”

She bristles at the name, “I have a badge y’know.”

“So do I.”

It wasn’t much, not by a longshot. But if this Laika’s intel was sound, then there was hope.

November 1992

The American met you at the gallery, as planned. Extricating yourself from your partner, however, was more of a trial than you’d bargained for.

“C’mon darlin’,” he drawled from the bedroom, sheets rumpled about his waist and hair askew, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Just stay in bed,” he takes another drag, smoke plumes falling from his ruddied mouth. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I know you would, pодной,” you step out from the bathroom securing a necklace around your neck. “But I can’t get out of it.” Pausing in front of him, you turn your back and ask, “Zip me up?”

He begrudgingly obliges you and promptly pulls you into his lap. His right arm snakes up to splay his hand against your collarbones, a warm comfort you know is meant to sway you.

Turning in his grasp, you smile and brush an errant lock of hair from his face. “I won’t be but a moment,” you promise, plucking the cigarette from his lips and taking a drag for yourself.

You allow yourself a moment to study him. Bed-mussed hair, longer and darker in the winter, framing his chiseled face. Hazel eyes, always quick, with a halo of gold. Stubborn skin clinging to the vestiges of summer, the faintest hint of bronze coloring him. And kiss-bitten lips, your handiwork, naturally.

“I’m doing this for us,” you say, passing the cigarette back to him and moving to rise.

He cocks his head in interest, eyes flitting down your form. “Okay malishka,” he allows, pressing a kiss to your wrist. “I’ll see you soon.”

Quickly turning toward the door, you reluctantly drop his hand and gather your belongings. You take a steadying breath before opening the door.

See you soon.

If the American pulled through, that wouldn’t be true for long.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #winter soldier!steve #Spotify

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hiding-in-the-vault · 7 months

Text

Okay let’s pull something out of the drafts. This has been sitting here for 8 MONTHS AND NOTHING HAS CHANGED

need more people to talk to me about AUs....

fine, I’ll just ramble about AU thoughts myself. fine!

Been mulling over an immortal!Dream with some reincarnation shenanigans in the back of my head for ages now. it started in the “Self-indulgent” box, with being stuck in prison for like,, uh. hundreds of years. And, ya know, angst yay. Then got a bit more developed as it moved out of the prison. But like most things, I came up with a set of circumstances and very little direction of where to take it. :’] I tend to treat AUs like fics- need a beginning middle and end. How do you end an AU? This is where all my problems derive. sigh.

Forest spirit AU didn’t get that treatment, though. Remember him? I have some ideas still, ofc. Thinking about re-drawing some older stuff too. Thought about bringing in Sam and Q, or even going more of a Schlatt and Q angle. My problem with Sam and AUs is that I think his history with Dream plays a big part in uh.. *gestures at him* all of that. Ofc we know with his lengthy past that it wasn’t all just because of Dream, but idk how to deal with those two when Sam hadn’t already been friends with Dream and then felt betrayed by him going super-villain mode, and uhh Tommy, and then just- going off the rails. :|

Had thoughts about s2. Dream forgets everything, but Punz still remembers. Punz holds onto the smile mask. Something symbolic about remaining in the past. But he’s fine with it. The plan worked! And he still has knowledge of the revive book. (but that doesnt mean anything because the point was to remove permanent death?) Something about power, something about it not really mattering in the end, when everyone else moved back to simpler things eehhhhh

Recently been thinking about protege dreblr-edition... I like Sif’s idea and I think we as a community should make it happen. How? to what end? idk, man. But it’s funnnyyyy and it’s easier to excuse Tommy doing something spontaneous like that himself.

Oh hey what about mer AUs? I love those. Cuz I love fish! But what to do with them? idk. I could ramble about water perimeters for quite a while, though.

I think modern fantasy urban stuff is rrraaaad. City but also magic >:) No solid ideas for that though.. Mulled over a prison thing for a while, but as usual, no direction. The author of No Rest for the Wicked started a fic like that and it was awesome but they didn’t get far into it and it’s been deleted...

And then ofc good ol’ No Man’s Land, which I have a very concrete plan for. And will slowly get to finishing at some point in my life :D

#vault talks #i have had no new thoughts i see kdfhd #dusting this off only because elmhat asked nicely #me just rambling nonsense to myself lmaooo #i think i didnt post it originally because it felt aimless? but eh what else is new

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thewarinourstarwars · 1 year

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Atmospherics

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Kuki Shinobu/Shikanoin Heizou Summary: Heizou is detective and Shinobu is a lawyer in modern Teyvat. They were childhood friends, separated by different paths. When they come together again, Shinobu realizes that some things are never truly over. A Tears of Themis AU Ao3 Link

Shinobu had long since considered herself as having grown up. She’d moved away from the shrine village of the mountain a few years ago, defying her parents’ hopes for her dreams and future to move to Liyue to study the art of law under the finest experts in all of Teyvat. It was there that she had learned so much more than just the law.

She’d learned how to cook and keep house, but she also had learned how to exist with herself, how to learn a new set of skills, and how to market herself as an independent woman.

By the time she’d returned to Inazuma, she could hardly recognize the girl she’d once been. Of course, she didn’t go back to her village—instead she had gone to Inazuma City, to work for the Themis Law Firm there. She kept an apartment in the heart of the City of Eternity, and had made a name for herself. Kuki Shinobu, the lawyer who could take on nearly any case, the personal protege of the legendary Deng Yanfei. She ignored the calls from home, the voice messages begging her to come back now that she had her education and her fun.

When would they figure out that this wasn’t about fun, or some hedonistic impulse?

She would never come back to her hometown. She’d left her childhood behind, all memories under the pinkish glow of the sakura blooms and turquoise-blue moonlight.

But Shinobu never expected a piece of her childhood to come back to her, to come bursting into her independent life in the city.

It started with a case at Shimura’s restaurant, a class-action lawsuit by a group of businessmen who claimed to be poisoned by the pesticide used in the building. One of his waitresses, a young woman— who he had been supporting to go to the university, as he had so many students before—- had requested Shinobu’s aid in trying to fight the lawsuit.

“I know he isn’t careless,” she’d told Shinobu while wringing her hands. “I just know that someone’s framed him!”

Shinobu didn’t like the idea of letting an old man lose everything like that. So of course, she took the case and agreed to help Shimura. When she came to investigate and figure out if they had a case, she knew that the waitress had also hired a detective to help her.

But when the detective came through the door, she wasn’t expecting to see none other than her childhood best friend.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Kiki Shinobu.” His mint green eyes surveyed her a moment before they met her own violet ones. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hello, Heizou.” Shinobu placed a hand on her hip. “So you did become a detective after all.”

He’d laughed. “Took a while, but I got there eventually.”

The way he looked at her, Shinobu knew he wasn’t just talking about the detective job.

Of course, after their initial investigation, Shinobu insisted on going out to dinner with him. They could catch up, as old friends. As the sun set over the hills, they spoke about what they’d been up to in the last few years.

Heizou had been the first to leave their small town on top of Mount Narukami. Too clever for her own good and brighter than the midday sun, he burned for glory, so of course he’d graduated a year early. He’d gotten a full ride to the university on Watatsumi Island, pursuing forensic science, a good and sensible career. Everyone was proud, excited for him.

Shinobu was too, although she remembered that last rainy afternoon before he left for good.

“It’s not like I’ll be gone forever,” he’d promised her then. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. Besides, with your talents, you’ll be there with me in another year.”

He was right, in a way. Perhaps growing up on Mount Narukami had given him the gift of prophecy in hanging around the shrine all the time.

Then again, he hadn’t been entirely right. Shinobu’s life had gone down a completely different path, one that nobody expected. Least of all her.

She’d applied to the university on Watatsumi Island in hopes of joining Heizou. But they’d declined her, for one reason or another. Shinobu wasn’t entirely sure. Not that she could have been sad about it for long. The day after her rejection came in from Watatsumi Island, she’d received a full ride for Liyue Harbor’s most prestigious university and had been put on the track to study law like she’d always dreamed.

She’d applied on a whim, a misplaced sense of having flown too close the sun, for surely it wouldn’t happen?

“And yet it did.” Heizou folded his arms over his chest and leaned back, clearly impressed. “And look at you now.”

“Look at you—you finally became a detective.” Shinobu paused, thinking of the years with no letters, not even so much as a phone call or an email or a text. “What happened, by the way? I thought you were fogging to become a forensic scientist, not a detective.”

A smile played at his lips, but something darker lingered in his eyes. “What can I say? Like you, the plan changed.”

Shinobu narrowed her eyes and said nothing. She knew better, she could read him too well. But she knew there was also no point in pressuring him.

Besides, who knew if their paths would continue to cross?

Naturally, their paths crossed plenty of times after that. More investigations, all linked together by mysterious drugs and chemical substances brought them together. They’d become a team for the cops to call, the most elite detective and lawyer, surely making Inazuma all the safer for it.

They didn’t keep it to work either. It became trips to Homuland Inazuma, a sleep-in at the aquarium. They tried making jade parcels from Liyue, from a cookbook that Shinobu had picked up during her cooking phase in college. Going to escape rooms and doing scavenger hunts together on their weekends off.

She’d surprise him with some new skill she’d picked up in her time away. He’d hint at yet another secret, a new mystery about the years away that he wasn’t ready yet to reveal. She hoped someday he would.

It was on a rainy morning as Shinobu sorted through old photographs sent courtesy of her mother as she listened to Variations on a Theme of Schumann that she had an epiphany. Seeing the green-haired girl who chased after the bold, daring boy in the photos, quietly making sure their misadventures ended in safety, it reminded her of how she had once felt when they were both children.

Some things were never really over, she’d realized. And she had never been over the childhood crush she’d held for Shikanoin Heizou. It was different now that they were both adults, it was something deeper and more complex. But she could recognize the base of it for what it was, the flame that had never gone out, the storm that never ceased.

It was then that she knew how she felt, and she had to tell him. Not over text or phone, no digital form could properly express the ever-dancing lightning inside of her.

Without abandon, she sprinted into the rain.

Others might have feared the rain pelting Shinobu’s skin, the lightning’s arc overhead or the howling winds. But how could Shinobu fear the storm? For that was her and Heizou in their very souls, they were the essence of the storm. An unstoppable force, meant to be together.

She was completely soaked through by the time she showed up outside of Heizou’s door. But she didn’t care.

“I love you,” she said when he opened the door.

She didn’t expect him to take on that disapproving, pitiful look. “We can’t.”

“I don’t care.” She took his face into her hands. “Whatever secrets you have, I don’t care, nothing can change this.”

“I know.” Their faces were almost touching. His tone was filled with a reverent admiration, like watching lightning touch the ocean and light up the waves. “Nothing can stop the great Kuki Shinobu.”

“So just let me in,” she whispered, even though she didn’t know why.

“I love you too.” That was as much of an answer as Shinobu needed to lean in for the kiss.

There would be time for discussions, for dark secrets, for a history to be unearthed. But for now, there was this, the electricity and the course of the wind. All else could wait.

#genshin impact #fanfic #shikanoin heizou #kuki shinobu #heishino #heizou x shinobu #shinobu x heizou

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herohikara-wol · 8 months

Text

FFXIV Write 2k23 - Day 20

Hamper - Emperor AU

Varis wasn’t sure who was ruining who’s plans anymore.

Emet-Selch was surely meddling. When he went out in public with Hero he wore a different face so none would realize he was their founder. He sprinkled touches of chaos wherever he walked, throwing out casual statements that would undermine Hero and put the young Emperor on the backfoot.

Except Hero took it in stride, he met every little jab with a genuine smile and eased into people pleasing so quickly that it always seemed to surprise the Ascian. One step forward, two steps back. His involvement usually wound up with people trusting Hero more, and seeing the old man look put out was the greatest gift of all.

Shame it wasn’t a gift that would last, this uneasy truce was untenable. It couldn’t possibly last for long. Tensions were rising in Doma and Hero was loath to use the blade when he thought he could possibly try to ease the problem with words. Zenos had left a woman in charge of the region who was bitter at her countrymen and it showed, she was taking out a lifetime of pain on everyone around her and just quietly replacing her wouldn’t solve the problem.

“I know the members of the Doman Resistance personally. Let me talk to them, I think we can work something out. They cleared the name of the Scions in Eorzea while I was helping end the war in Ishgard. Maybe I still have enough goodwill with them to figure out how to make things right in Doma.”

“Oh yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Let’s just let the Emperor teleport to an enemy nation to meet with a trained Doman ninja working for the resistance, what could possibly go wrong?” Varis knew his sarcasm would be lost on Hero, but he had to try anyway. Surely for once the boy had to see he was being unreasonable.

“You’re right, Varis, that does sound like a lovely idea. Surely she’s seen Hero in action and knows fighting him is a pointless endeavor. Much safer to chat with him about improving the lives of her people over tea.” Then of course his grandsire cut in, like a scheming snake, appealing to Hero’s delusions.

“Exactly! Yugiri is a wonderful person, a good leader. I mean, I babysat kids for her, she knows I’m trustworthy. Thank you Emet-Selch!” Hero beamed at the Ascian before turning to Varis and pulling his best pleading face. “I won’t teleport, I’ll fly to the Castrum in Mor Dhona properly and arrange a meeting like a normal person, will that help? Please, Varis, I have to try.”

Varis groaned inwardly, “Fine, but take Zenos with you. Doma is his region, and he’s better than any bodyguard I could assign you in a fight. Even if taken by surprise, the pair of you ought to be fine.” The ascian smiled and Varis already had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that this would go horribly wrong.

Except Hero was smiling too, “thank you Varis! I promise, I’ll find a way through to her. I was raised in Doma too, remember? We bonded over that before, I can find a way forward, I swear.” He’d almost forgotten Doma was Hero’s homeland, it’s why they had Asahi take over as his assistant. Hero was only literate in Doman, Asahi was fluent in both Doman and Garlean. Settling the unrest in his childhood home probably meant more to him than most of the empire.

“I’m more worried for your health than your success, your Radiance.” Hero flinched a little, knowing Varis only used his title when he was trying to distance himself from the young man. It was a way to put up the wall and stop trying to treat him like a wayward son instead of the ruler he was supposed to be.

It also never worked.

Despite himself, Varis was growing fond of the boy. Seeing him as a protege, if not another son. One far more personable than his own actual child. He was only snapped out of the thought because his ghastly gransire clapped. “Yes yes, we know, you’re more invested in a figurehead emperor you can control from the shadows than in improving the lives of the subjugated.”

Varis felt bile rise in his throat, that casual undermining, breaking Hero’s confidence in him. That was the Ascian’s goal, to tear them apart from the inside. He could see it like a glaring red flag but he’s been dealing with this his entire life. Hero was young and trusting- there was no defense against the old man’s bitter whispers.

“No, that’s not true, we’ve been working together on every proposal. In the beginning we had different ideas about what would make Garlemald a shining beacon of the star, but over time we’ve managed to settle most of those differences. He wants to improve the Empire as much as I do. Improving the lives of our subjects is the first step, and we’ve both agreed on it.” Hero was tapping idly at his datapad, arranging his trip to Mor Dhona and making sure Zenos was able to meet him there. “He worries about me because I’m a reckless child in his eyes, I’m younger than his son, who’s equally reckless but the last time Zenos got backed into a corner he murdered his way out. I’m a third Zenos’ size and I always open with words instead of violence- it’s easy to forget I’ve killed gods and dragons, fought through armies of men and machines, and slain monsters and voidsent alike. No one looks at me and sees a hardened warrior, they see a young man who doesn’t know how the world works.” Varis didn’t miss the smile on Hero’s face when he looked back up at the founder, meeting his sneer with that same unflappable grin. “It’s an easy mistake to make, and so many make it anyway.”

#ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite2023 #Emperor AU #Hero and Hades just casually one-upping each other at every chance #Varis is suffering in the middle of them #unstoppable force vs immovable object #Except the force is depression and the object is blind optimism

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 1 year

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uh uhhhhhhhhh liar au (that one protege au i wrote) cprime or cclingy

or just protege clingyduo

I’m unfortunately not very good at remembering things so I forgot about that 😔 so here’s just protege c!clingy. tws for murder, human experimentation, restraints, threats of torture, self hatred, abuse, and fates worse than death. but this ones pretty hopeful i'd say? c!clingy the world.

when tubbo awoke, it was to buzzing machines and white, sterile walls. he felt far too tired to move, but even then he felt the straps around his wrists and hooves, keeping him pinned to the hospital bed he lay on. bright lights stung in his face, forcing him to keep his eyes shut.

funny. he'd thought he was dead.

he'd felt the axe cut his head clean off, and there wasn’t a cure for decapitation as far as he was aware. medicine wasn’t his forte but he knew enough to be doubtful.

was this the afterlife? because, if so, what was where he was before? the cacophony of red-white-blue-yellow sparks and a burning crater he couldn’t climb out from? was that his punishment? or was this?

he didn’t fucking know. his head hurt. his horns ached- he couldn’t feel the tips anymore, like they’d been sanded down or something, but that also didn’t make any sense.

“hello?” he called out in a scratchy voice. “is anyone here?”

“tubbo?” and thank god, that was tommy's voice, he could recognise it from anywhere. “tubbo, i'm so, so sorry.”

“tommy? i-“

before he could say anything else, the straps on his arms were loosened, and he was pulled into a tight hug- too tight, more painful than anything he’d experienced, but it was tommy so he didn’t care. “i'm so fucking sorry, tubbo. i was selfish, i- i couldn’t lose you, man, i couldn’t-“

“woah, woah, woah. calm down, bossman. take it from the top.”

“i- i killed you.”

“dream's little pet apprentice killed me. you’re dead. that doesn’t make sense.”

“is that what dream told everyone? huh, makes sense.” tommy laughed and tubbo got the sense he only did it to avoid crying. “dream-dream said if i didn’t, he'd torture you. until i was strong enough. and i guess i'll never be strong enough, huh?”

“what are you even talking about?”

“i- i made a stupid fucking deal, an awful deal. i- dream said he'd bring you back, but only if- only if he could use you as a test subject. and i- i just couldn’t imagine a life without you. and- and i'm sorry man. you have every right to hate me. i'd hate me.”

“tommy. i'd take any pain to be your friend again, y’know? it’s okay.” tubbo tried to make his scratchy voice sound as soothing as possible. “you're my best friend, man. i'd die for you.”

“once. not repeatedly.”

“test me.”

“well. i won’t. he will.” tommy shuddered violently. “and- and i know what he’s like. it’s hell, tubbo. worse than. and he- he goes easy on me, y’know? because we're friends. i can’t even imagine what he'll do to you.”

“well, whatever it is, it’s worth it if i get to see you again.” tubbo affirmed. “you are worth hell, tommy. never let him make you forget that.”

#my writing #dream smp au #primeboys (derogatory)#c!clingyduo #tw murder #tw human experimentation #tw abuse #tw restrsints #Tw threats of torture #tw self hatred

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aquarri · 2 years

Text

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Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.

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Following the whispered words of a stranger, Harry Styles finds himself in the small town of Peri Ridge. It’s a town nestled within overgrown forests, raging rivers, and ominous mountains- full of unkept secrets, the aura of freedom, and lost people seeking to be found. It’s here that Harry works to uncover all the parts of himself that he buried long ago.

With the help of the captivating bartender, Louis, who he can’t seem to stop daydreaming about, and his enchanting group of friends; Harry remembers what it is to be alive.

This is a story about small-town secrets, found family, queer identities, and the battle between fight and flight.

- your best fake smile by YesIsAWorld (6,227 words)

Harry reluctantly agrees to a first date with Louis at Coney Island.

- Here’s to Many More by LadyLondonderry (8,394 words)

Harry Styles is nothing special. He grew up in the foster system and now, at eighteen, he's out on his own. He's just sort of... existing.

That is until one day, when it's cold and raining and he takes a chance on a coffee shop instead of a forty minute bus ride during rush hour. There, he meets a boy who talks too much and draws friends to him like a magnet.

- Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will. by damonalbarnofficial (5,182 words)

Harry has a diary and he's been writing about the pen-pal he's never met in there since he's been 12 years old. One day he reads his diary out to a room full of strangers and finds that the man with the blue-eyes at the back of the room is a slight distraction.

(Or Harry goes to a public diary reading thing at his local coffee shop and gets more than he bargained for)

(in other categories)

- The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by kingsofeverything (109,504 words)

Louis’ life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it’ll never be the same.

- come as you are by stylinsoncity (77,438 words)

louis is a professor of literature at oxford and harry is his newest and most eager protege. both are caught in a story about forbidden love, loss and second chances, in which one is on the brink of heartbreak and the other comes along when he's needed most.

- To the Ends of the Earth by stylinsoncity (68,488 words)

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

- Time Passed by coffinofachimera (66,311 words)

Louis struggles with their relationship as Harry grows into his identity.

- when i said forever by finelinegynandromorph (20,623 words)

or, harry is struggling to find meaning in the rainy countryside. louis is a steady constant as harry wades through the mire of past trauma. dark and moody, with some light at the end of a muddy tunnel

- our little corner of the world by brownheadedstranger (29,913 words)

AU. Louis is stuck in his mom's diner for the summer. Harry is the line cook with a pickup truck.

- hush. by Wankerville (41,162 words)

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

- june bug by suspendrs (57,047 words)

Or, Harry meets Louis on a cool night at the end of June.

- to live on the moon with you by toastghost (26,201 words)

In which Louis is a struggling writer who gets sad sometimes and Harry works in an ice cream shop. Zayn is the best friend in the world and Liam is shy and Niall thinks they're all definitely a clique.

#fics #larry fics #fic rec

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takadasaiko · 2 years

Text

A Flicker of Light, Chapter Three (a Star Wars fic)

Story Summary: A canon divergent AU in which Luke Skywalker is raised within the Empire to be either his father's heir as a Sith Lord… or his replacement.

Chapter Summary: Mara helps to broaden Luke's worldview and Vader makes good on an old promise.

FFN II AO3

---

Some days it was difficult for him to remember life before the Empire. Before the Dark Side. Before the decisions he'd made that had only worked to fuel the guilt and eventual self-loathing that acted as the spark that ignited the focus to do what must be done. To bend the galaxy's knee. To bring peace. By force, if necessary.

If left to that purpose and left to his own methods, he and his Master likely would have gone on until the older man's death, which would have been many years down the line. Vader was no fool. He knew the Jedi had hidden much from him - Obi-Wan in particular - and Palpatine was willing to teach him. It was grueling, and consistently left him with new scars on the flesh he had left, but he'd made his choice. He'd made the choice to serve his Sith Master. Luke had not.

When Palpatine had ordered him to bring the boy in, Vader had hoped the Rule of Two would save his son, and for a brief moment he thought it had. He'd expected the Emperor - who had had a hand in his own childhood - to push and prod, but he hadn't expected her.

Mara Jade. A Hand in training.

Vader knew what these Hands did. Investigators, assassins. He had no complaint in them if they stayed out of his way and, by proxy, his son's. His Master had made it clear that Vader wasn't to forbid Luke from being near her - not that it would have done much good. He was the son of Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, and forbidding it would have only served to guarantee the budding friendship - but she'd put his son's life in jeopardy in the very way Palpatine had threatened to if Vader didn't yield to him. That couldn't be a coincidence.

Shy of outright killing the child - something he knew he was perfectly capable of - he couldn't keep her away from Luke. He could make it more difficult by filling his schedule, but the moment Palpatine caught wind of that he would add his own task to the training curriculum. A favour, or course, to his protege, to add his own wisdom to build up his own apprentice. Not that it was ever acknowledged that that was what Luke was. Asajj Ventress had been Count Dooku's apprentice, even if not in name. The Rule of Two clearly only cared about what was openly acknowledged. Ventress hadn't been the child of the Chosen One, so as long as she had been useful she was used. Luke's fate was darker. Vader knew that, in the end, Luke's true Master was the one in which he pledged his loyalty to. And he had. He'd initiated a bond typically formed between Masters and Padawans that had only proven stronger with blood. Sidious was trying to break that, and he would use the girl to do it if he was able.

Luke was strong, but he had to be stronger. His father wasn't always going to be there to protect him. He had to learn to protect himself.

The altered battle droid fired with the stun setting and Luke's boot slipped on the marvel floor as he tried to move. He hit the hard surface and Vader could feel the shock run through the boy's muscles as he twitched, trying to move.

"Again."

The droid loomed closer and Luke struggled against the previous pulse. He could do this. He had the raw talent, he just had to find the will. If he didn't, the next adventure Sidious sent him on through young Jade could be his last.

No. Vader felt his blood boil. If it came down to it, it would be his Master that fell. Not Luke. Not Padme's son.

"Father," the boy croaked out, managing to flop over on his back and those blue eyes went wide. "I can't!"

"You must," Vader boomed and felt his breath catch, despite the forced pull of air in and out of his lungs. Luke pushed himself up, almost getting a foot in place to leverage himself upright, but fell hard again. "Focus your fear," his father instructed. "Use it. It should not use you. Nothing should use you."

He watched through the lenses of his mask as the boy - only ten for a handful of standard months now - struggled and failed.

He wasn't afraid and he wasn't angry. Mildly irritated and frustrated, yes, but nothing powerful enough for the Dark Side to use as fuel. He was certain his father would save him, and while every paternal instinct - for what good they ever did him - screamed to stay, he knew that he'd be setting Luke up for dangers when he was away. Which would be soon. He'd put off his duties for months now with only a quick few placating trips to keep Palpatine from forcing him away. The Emperor had never preferred his lingering presence on Coruscant. Eventually, Luke would have to rely on his own wits.

"Again," Vader demanded as he turned, cape licking at the heels of his boots and he felt his son's desperate touch at their bond.

"Fath-!" The cry was cut short as the stun beam hit him again and the familiar presence was lost over their connection.

Vader turned, surveying the scene, before shutting the droid off through the Force. His footsteps, heavy and slow, echoed through the room before he stopped and bent to where the boy lay unconscious. With strangely gentle movements he picked him up and cradled him against his chest. For today, the training was finished. Tomorrow it would start again.

—

"I see training went well."

Luke groaned from his place on the floor, bent halfway over his crossed legs with a cold pack balanced at the base of his skull. Everything hurt, but not so much that he couldn't shoot Mara a glare where she stood in his room's doorway. "Not everyone has dancing lessons for their training."

"Keeps me light on my feet," she countered, twirling a little in a teasing manner before she sank fluidly to sit on the floor with him. "So I can dodge attacks rather than kissing the floor all the time."

"Yeah? You wanna go up against the battle droids again?" Luke grumbled.

"With your dad controlling them? No thanks. The whole palace can hear his again -" she dropped her voice, doing her best to imitate his father's powerful tone - "every time it beats you."

It had been six standard months since he and Mara had snuck into his father's training area and accidentally activated the battle droids he'd upgraded. Since then, Father had taken his lightsaber training to a new level. He was constantly exhausted and sore. Always in new places. "I just wish he'd tell me how to fix what I'm doing wrong, but instead it's channel your fear."

"Again," Mara tried again for her imitation, but snorted a laugh halfway through.

Luke moaned as he repositioned his melting cold pack. "I just want to beat it once. I used to think I was good at it."

He felt Mara's mood shift, as if she were trying to pick up on what she was supposed to say in that situation. Without feeling her presence in the Force soften, her voice did. "You are good at it, Natus. You're the best I've ever seen."

He looked up, the ice pack finally sluffing to the floor. "Really?"

Her expression lit up, as did her presence. "Was that good? My instructor said I was having some trouble with believable empathy."

Not for the first time, Luke found himself wondering just what kind of lessons Mara was given.

Then the meaning of the words caught up. "Hey!"

She flashed him a grin. "You've never seen the Emperor with a lightsaber. You'd understand if you had."

Sure, Palpatine might be powerful in the Force, but it was difficult to imagine he was very quick on his feet, which meant she was teasing him in layers that evening.

Mara settled back against the wall. "Maybe what you need is less to channel your fear and more to overcome it. Put it in perspective. That's what my instructor in Escape taught me. He said if you're not afraid, you can think your way out of nearly any situation."

"Back up. Instructor in Escape?"

"Not important," she waved him off. "My point is that we have to give you perspective. You spend every day in this corner of the palace. Of course you're afraid of droids."

"I'm not afraid of droids. I don't like getting stunned into unconsciousness." He paused, tilting his head a little and regretting it instantly. Why did ice have to melt so quickly? "And so were you. I didn't get hit that hard."

"I'm just saying you need experience. Is your dad going to come up here tonight?"

"No, he's going off-world. Some sort of uprising in the Mid Rim the Emperor wanted dealt with quickly."

The corner of Mara's lips curled up and Luke didn't have time to protest as she reached forward, hauling him to his feet along with her, and dragged him towards her favourite entry and exit: the window.

—-

There was a big, bright world outside of the Palace walls that Natus hadn't seen. The Emperor had said that his dad didn't want him outside. Lord Vader was notoriously paranoid - so she'd heard from the palace staff she'd chatted up when she'd first come across Natus and had looked for more information on him - and there were a lot of rumours on where his son had come from. Some said Vader had killed his mother and taken the boy while others - dreamers, Mara thought with not a small amount of disdain - thought perhaps Vader kept a lover that he didn't dare bring to the capital world. Finally, many of the staff thought Lord Vader had simply stolen Natus away from some unsuspecting family. A child with promise that he'd delivered to the Emperor and asked to take on as his heir. That had been the rumour Mara had given the most credence to right up until she'd actually been in the same room as Darth Vader. Natus was naïve and often softer than she would have expected, but in that moment that Vader had stood in the training room and destroyed his own creation, Mara had been forced to acknowledge it. She hadn't thought that Siths knew how to love, and while she didn't think it was a love she would want directed at her, she was pretty sure Lord Vader would burn the whole galaxy if it would keep his son safe.

Still, Natus hadn't seen much. His father wasn't providing him with the well-rounded education that the Emperor was assuring that she had, so Mara felt a certain responsibility. Despite his absurd naïveté, his reliance on his father rather than himself, and the overwhelming desire for human connection she felt every time she was near him… she was fond of him. Mara didn't find herself fond of people that didn't prove immediately useful. Just him. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she was willing to trust the feeling for now.

He whined the whole way. He wasn't supposed to leave the palace turned into he wasn't supposed to leave the grounds, which eventually shifted to a shrill, panicky feeling as she dragged him onto the street. Her hand started at his wrist, but eventually moved to interlace her fingers with his, which served to calm him a little. Slowly, she felt him start to relax and at some point she started having to drag him along less because he was afraid they'd be caught and more because he was mesmerized by all the sights.

Mara didn't really remember coming to Coruscant. She was sure it'd been in the last handful of years and she was positive she'd lived with her mom and dad somewhere else at some point, but it was all hazy. Why, she didn't linger on. Something inside always reminded her that nothing good would come of it. This was her here and now and this was her life. Coruscant and training and serving the Empire. Serving the Emperor. It was an honour. Someone had told her that along the way.

As she and Natus walked through the streets on the top level of the city she found herself watching him watching those around him with fascination. She was used to coming out into the city to sit and observe, but he wasn't, and because of that he was fixated on every alien race and every new experience. It wasn't until she saw a set of stormtroopers that she realized it was time to go. She might have leeway to wander and learn, but he didn't.

"What about-?" he tried to ask, but she was already pulling him away from the vendor and towards the lift. A quick glance around and she tugged him inside, punching several levels from the options.

"What was that?" Natus demanded.

"Unless you want dear old dad to find out you're out and about, we need to make sure they don't see us," she explained.

"You think they'll tell him?"

"You don't have any clue who he is, so you?"

He tilted his head in the way he did when he knew she knew the answer that he wasn't certain of. "He makes sure there's peace in the galaxy."

"Sure," Mara answered as they hit the first level she'd punched. The doors opened and she tightened her grip on him so he wouldn't leave.

The doors closed and they started their plummet again.

"He does," Natus pressed.

"I'm not saying he doesn't," she defended as they started to slow again. Just a few more levels. "Maybe just not how you expect."

"Like you'd know," he groused.

Something deep in her chest constricted for him. "I see more than you do, probably." He really was hopelessly naïve.

Whatever response was battering around his head was cut off as the lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened to reveal bright, flashing neon lights and all the sights and smells that accompanied the market district level. She glanced at Natus to see his blue eyes wide and the unfiltered sense of utter awe wafted off of him so that she couldn't help but pick up on it through the Force. For half a moment, she considered dragging him back into the lift. All the lightsaber training, all of his ability in controlling the Force wasn't going to do him much good in the end if a few flashing lights stole his attention. She wanted to help him, so she guessed she shouldn't shelter him like his father did.

"C'mon," Mara grumbled as she tightened her hold on his hand and tugged him forward. "Keep up."

He picked up his gait to keep up with hers. Even so, she had to tug him along every time that a cart or a booth caught his eye.

"My instructor in Escape always says that you have to have at least half a dozen distractions when you're learning because there'll be at least three anywhere you go," she explained.

That caught his attention. "Again with your escape instructor…. What is the Emperor training you in?"

She shot him a glare, but continued her original line of thought, ignoring his question. "You're always up against time, capture, and failing."

"Failing what?"

"Your mission."

"Wouldn't getting caught be failing?"

Mara shrugged. "Sometimes that's the best way to get in." At least, that's what Instructor Korbal had said. She hadn't gotten to the explanation of how yet.

Natus frowned, the expression pronounced. "It doesn't matter. The Emperor doesn't let me go on missions with my father."

"You've just gotta prove you can take care of yourself."

"How?"

She flashed him a wide grin. "By not failing."

—

When Mara had declared it a mission to go deep below Coruscant's top level, Luke had assumed she meant more than just avoiding troopers. That had proven to be a task alone though, especially the first few times. Apparently two kids running around the market level just looked like trouble, but it gave Mara a chance to show off all the tricks her instructor was teaching her. For months now, every time his father was off-world they would sneak out for another round.

But his father wasn't off-world that day. In fact, they had training planned for late that evening. Normally that wasn't something Luke could find in himself to look forward to anymore, but this training would be different. Not that Father had said as much, but Luke had sensed the mildest tones of anticipation over their bond. It was rare. So rare, that he knew it had to be something exciting, so when Mara had shown up at the window he had turned her down.

Not that she had taken no for an answer. Instead she'd told him she'd been given an assignment by an instructor and she needed some help with it. She was vague on the details, with the exception that he was expected to be a distraction. Not a big deal. In and out, and she promised to have him back in more than enough time to make his training session.

They went deeper below the top layer of the city than they ever had before, Luke's ears popping as they plummeted further and further down. Finally they stopped and Mara hesitated just past the opening as the doors slid closed behind them. He looked to her and saw her eyes closed and her lips moving, as if she were reciting something. He reached out with the Force, careful not to disrupt her, but caught the anxiety that was slipping through the mental shields that she was getting better at constructing every day. He wondered if the feeling was contagious or if the Force was trying to warn him about something. His father constantly reminded him that, if he listened, the Force could tell him when something was going to happen. He was trying to get Luke to use it in training when the droid shot him with a stun beam, but he knew it wasn't limited to that. Father used it when he was protecting the Empire and its citizens from people that wanted to hurt them. Luke just had to zero in on the cause behind the feeling, which was hard to do when he didn't even know what they were getting into. "What exactly is your assignment?"

Mara cracked a green eye open and offered a glare. "It doesn't matter. I just need you to be a lookout."

"For what?"

"Trouble." She pulled in a breath and started forward without warning.

He scurried to catch up and caught her wrist. "Mara, I have a bad feeling about this one. If you'd just— "

She jerked her hand away and picked up her speed and pushed through a door that could have easily been missed on the street. It led to a grungy flight of stairs and she started down. "You know, you're not always going to get the full story when you get an order."

"This isn't my assignment, it's yours," he reminded her tightly as he followed.

"And that's why I can't tell you the details. It's need-to-know, and lookouts don't need to know."

Luke snorted at that one. "Sounds like—" The feeling slammed into him as hard as if someone had physically hit him and he stumbled, the argument cut off. It was enough that Mara finally stopped a step down and turned to glare a moment before brushing him off and taking the half a dozen steps down towards the door. Luke shook his head, trying to focus on the why behind it, but as Mara wrenched the door open they both saw the why in the form of three massive aliens that turned to look down at the red headed girl.

Mara yelped as Luke used the Force to pull her back and slam the door shut behind her, the thin metal bending against one of the aliens' attempts to pry it back open. Luke held it closed as Mara ran past him, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him with her. As they raced back up the stairs, he heard the aliens break through.

Another flight up and Luke stopped, pulling a startled sound and confused feeling from her as he pulled her towards the exit on that level. "Trust me," he said and with only a fraction of hesitation, she nodded.

They burst through the door and into the back alley of a residential level. There wasn't a trooper in sight, but if the Force had told Luke when to exit, either it or her training showed Mara where to go. It was her turn to take the lead and she tugged him forward, dodging in and around people and aliens alike, even as he heard their pursuers slamming through the door they'd taken to get into this level. She tightened her hand around his and pulled him off to a side alley where there was a pile of trash waiting to be hauled away. She pulled him behind it and they crouched there, neither of them daring to breathe.

A long minute crawled by, then another, and all Luke could hear was the general commotion of a dozen different species packed together in a residential district without room to breathe without breathing on each other. "You think…?" he risked after another long moment.

"Maybe. Give it a second more."

"You going to tell me now?"

Mara frowned and a sigh escaped her. "There've been some rumours floating around that an Imperial officer has been providing help to a gang of smugglers." She pulled a small cam from her belt. "I was supposed to go in, get any evidence I could, and bring it back. None of what my instructor told me made me think they'd have guards. Definitely not at the stairway."

"So what now?"

She tucked the device away again. "I still need my evidence."

"They'll be looking for us," Luke pointed out.

"They've found you," a gruff voice said from overhead.

Both kids looked up to see one of the giant, greenish-blue aliens that had been chasing them. Flat nose, glowing violet eyes, and more hair on his face than Luke thought he'd ever seen. With one swipe of his massive arm, the trash heap they'd hidden behind was scattered and both he and Mara were left in the open. On instinct, Luke started to reach for his lightsaber that was partially hidden by his black tunic, but Mara grabbed his hand and gave him the barest of head shakes. Sometimes the best way to get in is to get caught. That was one of the lessons Mara's instructor had taught her and it looked like that was her plan. Luke really hated that plan.

But, even as the giant alien and his buddies snatched them up, he reminded himself that he trusted Mara.

—-

She really hadn't meant for Natus to get dragged this deeply in. Any assignment she was given, unless told otherwise, was supposed to be handled by her and her alone. A lookout wasn't too far out of the assignment perimeters, especially if no one ever knew he was there to begin with, but he was now square in the middle. It could be a problem, but only if they got out alive.

Mara was okay with getting in trouble for blurring the lines on her assignment if it meant they got out alive.

They were hauled back down to the level she'd been trying to go to, both of them draped over one of the creatures' big shoulders with a hand holding them in place, claws at the tips of their fingers pressed into her and Natus' back to keep them from struggling.

She watched everything, just like she'd been taught. Every turn, every small marker to show her where they were and how to get back. Clearly they didn't see either of them as much of a threat. Just a couple of kids in the wrong place at the wrong time. It made people easier to manipulate when they thought that.

They entered a building that creaked when the creatures walked, the claws on their giant, bare feet scraping lightly across the flooring. Mara could hear chatter in the distance and it was getting closer. No. They were getting closer.

Mara risked a glance at Natus who was facing the other direction. She reached out through the Force. He was better at connecting to her mind than she was to his - truth be told, he made every new talent learned in the Force look simple when it rarely felt that way to learn - but she tried to communicate her confidence in the idea. They were okay. They were going to be, at any rate. In return, she felt equal parts fear and anger. He felt balanced between the two, like his mind was struggling to decide which to hold onto. Fear was pretty close to winning.

"What the —?" a male voice demanded, clearly startled by the creatures' appearance. Or, more likely, their appearance with their young hostages. "Mallicar. Explain yourself!"

The greenish-blue creature that wasn't holding either Mara or Natus - Mallicar, apparently- cleared his throat. "We commed in that there were intruders and you said to pursue."

"You indicated they were a problem," the first voice bit out. "These are children. Put them down. Now."

Mara slid to her feet, landing with more grace than Natus managed. As he stumbled to gain his footing, his tunic flipped up at his left side, revealing the hilt of his lightsaber. She turned to the owner of the voice - instantly clocking him as Lt Commander Char Ollumbra and the person she'd been looking for - and watched his grey gaze latch onto the weapon. "Come here, boy. What do you have there?"

Well this was a problem. She had hoped she could get a visual confirmation and that would be that, but they weren't so lucky.

Natus turned reflexively away, putting his body between the approaching officer and his lightsaber still connected to his belt and fixing a glare on the man. From Natus' other side, Mallicar snatched it loose and one massive, clawed finger triggered the red blade. All of the colour drained from Ollumbra's face. "The rumours are true," he breathed, but then his face flushed with rage as he turned back to his guard. "Do you know who he is? What you've done?"

"It's just a kid."

"That -" Ollumbra motioned at Natus - "is the Sith Lord's son!"

A darkness passed over Mallicar's face that Mara didn't like. There was a rage that filled the air at the mention of Vader's name, like he'd had a personal run in with the Sith apprentice. "Then we kill him," he growled as he took an aggressive step forward. Mara saw Natus widen his stance a little like he did before they sparred. Except he didn't have a weapon.

"And then he'll kill you and every last person we're trying to get off this forsaken planet!" Ollumbra snapped.

"Well we can't just let him go."

"No, we just have to keep it far away from us. Vader can't trace it back here."

With their focus on Natus, Mara's gaze swept the room. No one had come in after them because no one else was needed. With the large, alien creatures blocking them in, there was no clear path to an exit. They were trapped. Maybe she should have listened to his intuition afterall.

She let her gaze flicker back to Natus who, in turn, stood poised like he was ready for one of his father's battle droids to attack. Every muscle in his body seemed to be coiled and that icy blue gaze was fixed on his red blade in an alien's hand.

Without warning, without moving, she heard his voice in her head. DOWN! he commanded and she hit the floor.

—-

He had never had his lightsaber plucked from his belt before. He'd dropped it when hit hard enough during training, but no other living, sentient creature had dared to take it from him, or even try. Luke felt his any fear from being snatched as they had evaporated in that moment as they discussed how they were going to kill him and Mara, all the while avoiding his father's wrath that would come crashing on them if they did. They thought they had a plan - told themselves they could survive this - and that these children were merely obstacles to be dealt with. Like they weren't being trained by the two strongest Force users in the galaxy. Luke felt his fear harden into anger, each word working to sharpen it into rage.

So this is what Father had meant when he'd said to channel his fear. He understood now.

He didn't have to look to Mara to know that she was looking for and ready to take any advantage that presented itself. DOWN! he thought at her, not entirely sure it would work with anyone he hadn't formed a Force bond with like he had his father, but the instinct proved correct. Mara hit the steel floor under her boots and Luke pushed outward with the building rage and the Force slammed into the three aliens and the man that looked like an Imperial officer dressed in civvies. All four flew back, one of the aliens hitting the wall hard enough that a resounding crack echoed through the room.

Both kids - so easily overlooked just seconds before - flashed into action. Mara drew her lightsaber from deep in the folds of her tunic and the purple blade leapt to life as Luke reached for his own fallen weapon, the red light filling the room.

One of the aliens rushed Mara and she danced out of the way. Dodging and moving until she had an opening, swinging the brilliant purple-white blade at one clawed hand and severing it from the arm it had previously been attached to. The lead alien - Mallicar - drew a weapon and aimed it at her. "Put it down, girl!"

Luke tugged hard at the blaster, sending it flying towards Mara. She cut it neatly in half.

Then he stumbled. It took half a beat longer than it should have for him to realize that the Human behind him had clipped him with a shot. Not with a stun weapon like the droids he practiced against. No, he put together as he caught a glimpse of the way the fabric burned at his left shoulder. This had been a live round. He turned his attention on the man who simultaneously raised a hand as if in surrender and leveled his blast to take another shot. "I don't want to hurt you, boy. Put the lightsaber down."

"No," Luke growled and the Human began firing. Luke clumsily blocked the first shot, sending it wild. The second was more controlled, as was the third, and the fourth ricocheted off the red blade and into his attacker's chest. He dropped instantly and Luke stood ready for a fifth shot, despite what he watched happen. Slowly, reality started to catch up and he eased out of the red-hot rage that he'd channeled to keep himself alive.

"…go! Natus!"

He turned, finding Mara at his shoulder and she touched his arm, careful to avoid burned flesh beneath the still-smoldering black fabric. "What?"

"We have to go," she repeated.

Luke blinked hard, gaze sweeping from the man who lay with pale, grey eyes staring unseeing at him from where he'd fallen to where one of the aliens hadn't gotten up from his initial attack with the Force.

"The other two will bring help," Mara said as she tugged him towards the exit. "C'mon!"

He thumbed the control on his lightsaber and the red blade snapped out of existence. Mara kept pulling him forward by his opposite hand as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. They'd been taken. They were going to hurt them. Kill them. They were…

"Wait," he snapped, slamming to a stop. "Who were they?"

"Traitors," Mara hissed, still trying to move him forward. "We have to go. C'mon!"

Questions folded in on themselves in his mind, too convoluted to make their way out of his mouth. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "I killed him."

"He was going to kill you," Mara countered.

"But he was a person."

"So are you."

He didn't know what to say to that and Mara didn't let him stand there to think on it too long. With a warning of backup and danger, she pulled him towards the stairwell, up a few flights, and then to the lift. It was okay, she promised. He'd done what he had to do.

It didn't feel okay.

—

It didn't come as a huge surprise when his father had delayed whatever special training that he'd had planned. Mara had finally explained that the man that had been shooting at them was a Lt Commander in the Imperial Navy that had been suspected of treason. Turned out those suspicions were right, and while Luke didn't know exactly what they'd been doing or who they'd been working with, his father was the Emperor's go-to man to quickly handle anything that might threaten the Empire or its citizens.

Ollumbra had been the traitor that Mara had been sent to find evidence on. His father's involvement was an added layer of proof that the man had not been innocent, but Luke couldn't shake the image of those pale grey eyes staring at him after Ollumbra had taken his last breath.

He couldn't sleep that night and had gone to the training room to wear himself down against droids that proved far too predictable. Into the morning, the afternoon, the evening…. Every time he tried to stop to rest, he found himself buzzing with nervous energy again, the smell of sizzling flesh filling his nose and shouts echoing in his mind. Then there was the cold. It'd all happened so fast that he hadn't known what to equate it to, but with time he realized it had set in the moment the life had left Ollumbra's eyes. The moment Luke had killed him.

Father didn't fill him in on the investigation and Luke didn't ask. Even so, three days later it was over and done and his father was ready for the training he'd promised his son. By then, Luke was so exhausted that he couldn't imagine any scenario in which this went well.

They didn't go to the training room, though. Instead Father led him up and up and up until the lift emptied them out into the private hangar bay on the roof of the palace. There sat his personal TIE fighter and, for the first time in days, Luke felt the cold, dead gaze recede to the back of his mind with the sudden understanding. Father was going to teach him to fly.

It had been years since Luke had been in any sort of craft. He knew it was a Lambda-class shuttle that had brought them there, but how his father had flown it he couldn't say. At six years old, he'd been more interested in watching the stars streak as they flew through hyperspace than the controls Father had worked to make it happen. This time he watched everything. Black gloved hands moved and he asked questions when his father didn't readily explain a motion that might have been as natural as breathing to him. More so, maybe. There was a pre-check, repulses lifting them up into the air, and the feeling of excitement that he wasn't sure was entirely his own. Father wasn't just teaching him today, he was sharing this with him. For a few moments, as the craft sped up and out of the central city, he felt free. They felt free. Maybe they were.

They stayed well within the atmosphere, Luke watching as his father walked him through every command the craft needed and demonstrated in ways he never had in his lightsaber training. They swung up above the buildings and out towards the mountains, skimming the ocean water and, at last, the TIE came to rest on the same mountain Luke recognized from when they'd first arrived on Coruscant years prior. Father had said someday. Father didn't lie to him.

But he'd been lying to Father.

The craft set down gently and the ramp extended so that they could exit. Wind whipped around them, kicking up off the ocean and cooling before it reached Luke's face. Despite the exhilaration, he felt the guilt weighing on him. "I was there," he said, his words nearly carried away by the wind.

"I know."

Two very simple words breathed out and amplified through his mask, but Luke didn't feel the usual frustration or anger that he did when the battle droids won a round. He would have thought that sneaking out would have been so much worse than a failed exercise. "You're not mad?"

"Did you think I did not know?"

"Sorta," he managed.

"I knew."

"Why didn't you stop me?"

There was a long moment of audible silence, but Luke could feel the conflict over their bond. "The Emperor… feels you are too soft. Too sheltered."

"I killed him. Ollumbra," Luke confessed, and he felt his father's surprise as he turned to look at him through the lenses in his mask. "I didn't mean to. He saw my lightsaber and knew who I was. That I'm your son. He started shooting, and I accidentally deflected one of the bolts right at him." He felt the rush of emotion as he voiced the deed that had kept him awake.

"Did you think you'd always fight droids?"

Luke looked to his father, his vision blurring a little at the idea that he might have to feel this again. "I don't think I want —"

"You are my son. He will not be the last that will try to end your life because of that."

"Will it always hurt?"

There was a long moment of silence between them and a flicker of subdued emotion. Luke saw a glimpse - a memory, maybe - of bodies laid strewn around what looked like the Palace and the overwhelming feeling of rage and sorrow mixed together, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Father reached out, his hand on Luke's wind-blown hair in what had become a comforting gesture. "I will teach you to use the pain. To be stronger than it," he swore.

Father didn't lie. He'd said he'd bring Luke to this place someday, and there they were. Luke just had to be patient. If he was, he could be strong like him.

---

TBC

Notes: Anyone else see the trailer for Tails of the Jedi? The moment I did I knew that there needed to be a training session for Luke because Vader would 100% train him in the same way as Ahsoka. I'm really looking forward to that show to see even more between those two :D

This was a difficult chapter to piece out, but once I finally got it moving, I'm really excited about the direction it went. Luke's going to be forced to grow up a lot faster in this story than he ever did on Tattooine.

As a side note, I've been toying with who all I want to incorporate from the Star Wars universe into this story as we move deeper into the Rebellion. Obviously Leia, Han, Chewie... I'm hoping to find a way to work Lando in because I love him dearly. A few others that I don't want to spoil, but I've been watching Rebels for the first time from start to finish. I'd seen a handful of episodes and clips (as a huge Timothy Zahn fan I went in looking for a few Thrawn clips to see how I liked him in it a while back), but I just started S4 and I think I found a favourite in Kallus. Give me a good redemption arc and I'm sold. I hadn't planned on having the crew from the Ghost appear in this story, but I'd love to find a way to let Kallus appear even if he didn't have a major role. It could be a lot of fun.

Next Time: Luke learns just how far his father will go to protect him and Mara must make a decision on loyalty.

#Star Wars #Star Wars fanfiction #Luke Skywalker #Mara Jade #Darth Vader

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mythgirlimagines · 2 years

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ANON-CORRECT QUOTES

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(In Scar's clinic, after Myth's birthday party...)

Myth: (feeling her teeth in pain) Ugh! I think all of those cakes gave me a cavity...

Myth: (turning to Scar) Do you think you could schedule a dentist's appointment for me, Scar?

Scar: (smirking, going to his computer) But of course, High Demon of the Heart! How about 10 tomorrow?

Myth: (smiling, not wasting this opportunity) No thanks, Scar! I know it's my birthday and everything, but I don't need THAT many appointments!

Scar: (grumbling in irritation and exasperation)

Source: Meme

Image Source: (https://ifunny.co/picture/me-i-need-a-doctor-s-appointment-receptionist-ok-checks-o503Pwxn8)

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(After Eldritch decided to tail Purple and Fusion II on their "library hangout" to find biblical proof to support his conspiracy theories...)

Eldritch: (grabbing a book off of the shelf) "M-Man-K-K-Killing Snakes of the Am-Amazon".

Purple: (dropping all of her books in shock, before looking at Eldritch in appallment)

Fusion II: (appalled) ELDRITCH! Never say "Amazon" in a BOOKSTORE!

Source: The Simpsons

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(How Wyre and Nerd's first meeting probably went...)

Nerd: (walks into the Con building, just minding his own business)

Wyre: (snickering to Myth, gesturing to Nerd) Oh, look! A robot!

Nerd: (deploying his identification scouter) Target identified: the paleontology industry's clown.

Wyre: (rage brewing) Is it mechanically possible for you to F*** YOURSELF?!

Source: Mortal Kombat XL

Video Source: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXJZhtnHUlE)

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(In Fusion's seminar room...)

Fusion: (smiling, to the rest of the Anons) Hello, and welcome to my standing-up seminar!

Iris: (trips on pure air and falls on their face)

Janon: (flops on the ground, with a dead-eyed stare)

Fusion: (deadpan and unimpressed) And you BOTH failed...

Source: asdfilms

Video Source: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6g98fTxg6Q)

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(In an AU where Sparkle takes up Dream as her acting protege...)

Sparkle: (from backstage, doing her best attempt at a whisper) REMEMBER, LITTLE ENERGETIC ONE, WHAT THE SPECTACULAR SPARKLE HAS TAUGHT YOU...

Dream: (giving Sparkle a nod, before facing the audience)

Dream: (dressed in a sparkly prince costume, loudly and flamboyantly) I'm Dream Anon! And I AM the dancing prince of Hope's Peak, honey!

Dream: (doing the dance moves that she's describing) I SPIN! I KICK! I FLIP! I JUMP off the stage in three inch soles! That's what brings the prince in this!

Source: RuPaul's Drag Race

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Curious: (happily sticking post-it notes on the backs of unsuspecting Anons)

Egg/Wet Sock: (looking at the child they've raised)

Egg: (looking to the camera, to the audience) Sooo...Curi found out that you can put post-it notes on Anon's backs without them knowing!

Wet Sock: (also looking at the audience, unimpressed) But they don't know that should say stuff like "KICK ME", so they all just have smiley faces on them...

Source: Unknown

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(Before the Mastermind Reveal...)

The Mastermind/Fancy One: (innocently, still in their normal clothes) Everyone thinks I'm just some bubbly little Anon-boss! But I'm not!

The Mastermind/Fancy One: (switching to their Mastermind clothes, and striking a pose) I'm also a WAR CRIMINAL! And a CORPORATE SELLOUT!~★

Source: Tik Tok

Video Source: (https://m.facebook.com/loveKLoveee/videos/not-just-your-bubbly-little-girl-bossalso-a-war-criminal-and-a-corporate-sell-ou/319567336471409/?_rdr)

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As always, I hope you like the quotes I've sent out, and Happy (belated) Birthday, Myth!

-Fusion Anon

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absolutelynotsanebaby · 2 years

Note

best fics you've ever read? any fandom

Hmmmm that’s a good one tbh. Imma take this time to just ramble about some fics I really like. There’s 4 dsmp/mcyt fics I find really good. Passerine is a obvious one I think, that fic is literally so beautiful. Made me cry like 5 separate times while I read It. Just Strangers who know each other is a really good chommy protege au. I haven’t read it in a good while but c!clingyduo <3.

I haven’t read this one is a good while either but I remember really liking, it’s called “There are many l names in history (but none of them are ours” it’s a fic about L’manburg and how it fell and from what i remember it was 🤌. An odd but kinda devastating fic is “How to Sex Vol. 4-58” and lemme assure it’s not explicit whatsoever. It’s based around those books tommy wrote. It’s basically c!tommy writing his thoughts as he’s locked in prison by the green man himself. It’s basically angst disguised as high key crack.

“A deer’s death “ is also probably one of my favorite fics, it’s really fucking pretty. It’s by taper pop and a golden kamuy fic. Emotionally an owie tho

The other is “No Time To Crank The Sun” by VIKAN and it’s an amazing POV of a highly unreliable narrator through the lens of one Roronoa Zoro.

Actually my favorite fic is probably “The Next Right Thing” by Melodramaticcoffeeaddict but I don’t feel like I’ve watched enough of op to speak on it lol. I really love reading it <33

#I dunno why there’s that big ol space #tumblr mobile is weird like that #anon #anonymous #sorry for the long answer lol I love reading fics #blah blah

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cryingtulips · 2 years

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My DSMP Fics

-0-0-

GOD MUST HATE ME

1 chapter - 1.6k words

The night Wil and Tommy plan on leaving the server, Tommy goes to Church Prime for a final goodbye

A c!Tommy-centric script about religious trauma and trying to heal

-0-0-

The Weeping Angel (How Far You Fall From Grace)

1/? Chapters - 1.8k words

Dream believes Tommy has wasted potential, and when Tommy fails to escape exile, Dream offers to teach him how to reach this potential. Agreeing to the deal, Tommy doesn’t realize this is part of Dream’s plan, and that his “death” is the trigger to it all.

Meanwhile, with the shocking news of Tommy’s death, Ranboo watches as his friends deteriorate as they fight to hold onto what is left of their stability that was destroyed the moment Tommy was banished. He wants to help, and he knows he can—he just need to figure out why Wilbur, dead president of L’Manburg, is involved with everything he can find.

Protege au where Dream has plans to be god, and for that Tommy needs to change

-0-0-

The Unloved Jewel

1/? Chapters - 1.6k words

Taken from a home he doesn't remember, Tommy has lived his whole life with Dream.

Everything has been fine living in the palace, as long as Tommy ignores how wrong everything feels. As long as he ignores it, everything is perfect. Tommy needs everything to be perfect because soon, he is to be the crowned prince, and Dream says Tommy was destined for greatness.

But as coronation night approaches, Tommy notices strange things happening within the kingdom. From civilians revolting to a strange pink-haired man appearing from nowhere, Tommy isn’t sure how he’s going to handle the pressure of being the future king and Dream’s wrath.

Meanwhile, Technoblade is busy trying to save a young godling before the universe gets thrown into shambles.

Fantasy royal au where Tommy is a young god taken from his home, and Technoblade is trying to save him to prevent the destruction of the universe.

-0-0-

Destruction Runs In The Family

1 Chapter - 772 words

You wouldn’t describe yourself as the destructive type. No, you’d much prefer creation to destruction. To mess with tools and feel things come to life right underneath your very claws. Your family, however, well. There’s a reason they say it runs in the family.

A reflection on the Craft family and how their legacy is known for destruction. Fundy-centric

#masterpost

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copepods · 3 years

Photo

[thinks about deltarune snowgrave route] [thinks about the exile arc] [id: three one-page comics featuring tommy and dream, with other characters. in the first, they stand over ranboo’s dead body, tommy holding a sword; tommy says “why… why did i… why did i do this?” and dream replies “to make you stronger, remember?” in the second comic, they face down tubbo, holding a sword; tubbo says “stop! what are you doing, dream?!” tommy says “looks like another enemy. want me to kill them?” and tubbo asks “w-tommy? tommy, it’s me!” tommy replies “…tubbo?” in the third comic, dream is fighting technoblade. dream cries out “sapnap! punz!” as techno says “nobody’s comin’ to help you, dream! get over it!” dream says “…tommy.” and techno says “really. the kid? you really think he’s gonna help you now?” as tommy raises his bow to aim at techno’s back. end id]

#man remember the protege au? crazy stuff ahahahaha #mcyt #exile arc #death cw #blood tw #dream smp #tommyinnit #technoblade #dreamwastaken #tubbo #long post

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scenariosofkonoha · 2 years

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For the Country| Tobirama- Arranged Marriage AU

Part 13/15

Part 1 | ... | Part 14|

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Political moves. Tobirama's lowkey a simp for this girlie, but won't outright admit it. War's coming in. We love a power couple.

“I’m shocked,” an emissary hummed, his gaze locked across the room, bypassing the various feudal lords and other diplomats. As he leaned against the counter, cup in hand, there was a small smirk across his demeanor, something that happened to be a trend when outsiders got to witness the two leaders of Konoha. “Utterly shocked that not only were you able to convince her to marry someone like you, but that she’s stayed, and actually looks happy,” he teased as he watched the woman charm guests and secretly secure allies for a war that was soon to come.

Tobirama gave a quick glance to his wife, and couldn’t help but agree with the latter portion of the previous statement. In comparison to all the stiff and dusty politicians, she radiated an aura that no one else in that room, himself included, could even aim for. The sun kissed skin, the welcoming stature, the voice that made you feel like the sun would always rise and it would be a better day; everything she was now was in spite of the mold that the past had placed many like her in.

Historically, someone like her would have not been expected in gatherings like this. Those who held the future in their hands previously had been hardened by the past and it was evident in their being, but the future was different now. And whenever Tobirama thought of the future, it was always her.

“You’d think that she had been handling politics since the day she was born with the way she makes all these diplomats fold.” the emissary continued, shifting his gaze to her counterpart.

“‘I’m certain she was.” Tobirama offered before bringing up his own cup.

Letting his head fall back, he looked up as if he were remembering. “Right, right. I suppose you don’t learn how to deal with politics like that overnight,” he muttered. “Must have been all those years of being Madara’s protege then?” he instigated.

Though Tobirama had reached a point in his life where snark comments, particularly relating to the previous leader of his wife’s clan, were ones that he did not answer to anymore. At least not when they came from someone like the one currently keeping him company.

Quickly noting that the lack of response could easily get him removed from the next gathering, the emissary chose to pivot. “Rumor has it her brother is on your team? Rather capable shinobi at it too?”

“Correct.”

Letting out a smug laugh, the emissary continued his banter. “How is it that you ended up married to the current leader and trained the future leader of the very clan that you wanted dead all those years ago?”

Tobirama paused. It was a question that he had asked himself time and time again, and the answer was always the same. “Thank her. None of this would have happened without her.”

Raising an eyebrow, the emissary looked uncertain, “I think you’re giving her too much credit.”

Sharpening his gaze, Tobirama frowned. “Wholly not enough.” he reaffirmed, before giving an order. “You may go now. I’m sure there are other’s you need to badger.”

Sheepishly standing up, the emissary nodded a farewell and in process, ended up passing the very woman he had just chosen not to give credit, a quick look of embarrassment drawn across his face.

Meeting her husband, the Uchiha quickly gave a onceover to the man she just passed before looking back to Tobirama with a small expression of confusion. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing but the truth.”

Letting out a small laugh, she shook her head. “If you insist.”

“I do,” he nodded as he gave his attention fully to her. “Your thoughts on all of this?” he asked.

“The entire country is in support and secured at the current moment. We can band with the feudal lords and their armies when the time comes as well as the other mercenaries. They are already prepared for when the war bleeds into our territory, but for now I suppose it’s best to hold off involvement until necessary. From the looks of it, it’s nearly as bad as the previous wars.” she offered, a small frown appearing towards the latter portion of the statement.

Tobirama nodded. A few more months of peace; that’s all they had left. The other nations had been fighting for at least half a year at this point, but until recently it hadn’t even remotely reached their country. Contingency plans were created and ready for when the country was eventually hit, but until then, they’d remain impartial, savoring the last moments of peace.

It was almost surreal to Tobirama. The last time he had been at war was before Konoha was even formed. He was barely out of his teenage years back then, and sure as hell wasn’t anywhere to the standard he was today. Now, there was barely anything that remained the same. The circumstances surrounding him were so different. The people surrounding him during it were different as well. Before, if he died, then he died; just another kid lost to the fighting. Now, if he died, he’d be leaving everything to strief. There was more tying him to life now, making the reality of death and its consequences more severe.

Gingerly grabbing his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts, the Uchiha gave a comforting look. “Don’t overthink it right now.” she insisted. “We are secure. The country’s safe.”

“And in a year?”

“We’ll salvage the wreckage.” she stated, her voice almost all knowing of the devastation that would ensue. “Our people will be protected and will heal. We’ve done it before. We’ll do it again.”

They had done it before. They did it alone back then, but now they were together and stronger, and maybe that would be their saving grace when the bloodshed finally came knocking on their doorstep.

Pushing away the impending compulsive thoughts of war, Tobirama gave his full attention to the woman in front of him. Giving her a small smirk, he raised an eyebrow, “You’ll have to detail how you got the southern feudal lord to stop talking long enough for you to secure him as an ally.”

Letting out a laugh, she gladly took the segway to lighter topics. “You just have to make sure that they know you’re the one with the more interesting information. Talk just enough to get them hooked and then they're yours. It’s not that hard. Just keep me around, and you’ll have the whole nation and maybe then some.” she offered, a witty smile making a quick appearance.

Helpless against copying her smile, Tobirama offered up a quick comment. “This is one of your traits that we don’t talk about enough,” he said. “At what point do you lose this ability to talk your way into people trusting you?”

She gave a small shrug, “I don’t know. I got you to love me, and I think that’s the biggest feat I’ve ever accomplished in that aspect.”

And she was completely right. She had managed to cause him to fall in love with her, not that he would outright admit to such things, but it was the silent truth. Raising an eyebrow, he nodded. “You truly are one of the most exceptional people here,” he offered. “I suppose I should know that though, because you did snap at me the second time we met, saying that the Elder’s had a choice with you, but not with me. You made that very well known.” he said, nearing a joke.

Laughing, she gave another one of her all knowing looks, though this one held more joy than the other previously had.

“At least, I have the privilege of saying that one of the most exceptional people here is my wife. None of these people could even compare.”

“Be careful, pride is very fitting on you.” she smirked.

Placing a hand on her back, Tobirama motioned to the exit. “Let’s go. If war is truly at our heels, I’d rather spend my last moments of peace solely with you…”

#i think this story will be finished soon #aka i have the last two chapters mapped out and half way written #but does anyone read this anymore #idk #I actually am shocked im the author.#lol #tobirama #senju #tobirama senju

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iphoenixrising · 3 years

Text

The Demon You Know

Day 1 Urban Fantasy AU | Magical/Supernatural Creatures | Time Travel

So, something a little off the grid for my first day of DickTim Week 2021. Special thanks to my wonderful babe @vellaphoria for the beta and the incredible peeps on the Capes and Coffee discord (looking at you @themandylion, @strawberryjei and others). Also need to show my undying love for @chippon because babe, we are making it work.

When the sun creeps up over the sky in Gotham, then it’s time to GTFO. Capes in the daytime aren’t the usual for the city, and Red Robin has been playing it too late, staying out far past O’s warning to bring it in for the night. So, really, he’s only got himself to blame.

His penthouse perch has seen more use in the last few months since, welp, Gotham and the fact he likes to get away from the team mentality sometimes, like to return to his roots and run the rooftops like when he was still that Robin. His trips to the Manor had become more frequent since B was back in the cowl and things in the family seemed to be returning to some semblance of normal.

Well, as normal as it could get, really.

But all that goodwill and positivity is literally ghost. Red’s hands are shaky and his inner calm is absolutely blown. He’s ducking into his perch to throw his suit off, grab his duffle bag full of sundries and fake idents, then he’s going to hit the airport as fast as he can get a flight the hell out of town, away from the terrifying sight.

(He should just call Bart or Kon or Cassie, tell them he needs an out faster than he can arrange it himself, he needs to get away from–)

He knows he fucked up when the slight sounds, small and metallic in nature, make it past his pulse thumping in his ears.

Like a horror flick, he slowly turns as the front door gives a groan and is pushed open by a very familiar palm.

Dick’s blue eyes fall on him like a ton of bricks, on Red Robin’s feet frozen to the floor, his suit only half on, and no way he can get far enough to throw himself out a window.

Fuck.

“So,” Dick keeps his voice soft, footsteps easy as he steps inside Tim’s penthouse and closes the door behind him, “you finally found me out.”

Keeping his mouth shut in times like this has really saved his ass before, so Red doesn’t say a word, keeps every muscle in his body ready to spring for the right second –

Watching the would-be robber struggle in Dick’s grip, watching the light show brighten overwhelmingly, seeing what had to be-had to be feeding.

“I figured it would be you if anyone, actually, so I’m not really surprised, just… disappointed.” Dick continues softly, only in jeans and a t-shirt since Nightwing was oddly missing from the patrol roster last night.

And Red is apparently the only one that knows why.

“But that doesn’t mean I can just let you go, Timmy,” Dick isn’t stopping, his whole body lax while Red is wound tight, backing away from the man he thought he knew. “I really wish you hadn’t found out like this. I...I had other plans.”

Whirlybirds and pellets aren’t going to help him here. Hand-to-hand and martial arts, aerial acrobatics, none of it is going to make a difference.

His throat goes dry when Dick’s eyes get more and more blue, when his former mentor doesn’t stop advancing, and Red Robin is running out of room to back away.

“I tried to save you, Timmy. I tried so hard to get you away, out of Gotham, even if you went because you thought you had to find Bruce, I’m the one that gave you the compulsion to leave.” The low laugh is edged with something desperate, “why the hell couldn’t you stay away?”

“This is my city, just as much as Batman’s. You taking my fucking cape wasn’t enough,” Red Robin bites out, back thumping against the kitchen counter, realizing Dick had backed him into the corner. “How did you keep it from him? Constantine, Zatanna, all the magic users he has on speed dial and he never figured you out? No one in the JLA or Titans did?”

That makes Dick pause.

“He never had to. He knew what my parents were before they ever died, Timmy. Haley’s Circus came to Gotham regularly. Bruce always knew.”

The information blast hits him painfully, that Bruce didn’t bother to tell him and look at where they are now.

“And he didn’t try to help you?” Red, Tim, gapes at the still silhouette that used to be someone he thought he knew like he knew himself. Someone that’s always had this secret. “He didn’t try to –”

“Cure me?” Dick’s mouth lifts in a semblance of a smile Tim knows. “There is no cure for this, Timmy. It’s what I am. What my parents both were, the curse of the Romain Bababiljos. It’s unfortunate for me both of them were cursed, that just makes the...the hunger two-fold.”

And it’s just a few more steps, a raised hand that makes Tim flinch back, but only a fingertip taps the edge of the domino, makes the whiteouts raise.

Automatically, with everything he’s learned, studied, experienced about supernatural creatures, he ducks his head so he isn’t looking directly into those eyes. That doesn’t stop Dick from bracketing Tim in, both hands on the counter, their bodies a breath apart.

Dick laughs softly, close enough for Tim to feel the breath on his face. “The Titans...I never had to tell them. By then, I could control myself, at least mostly. The JLA? I’m one of the Batman’s proteges. I’ve been fighting crime since I was eight. They believe in me. There was never a reason for any of them to look too deeply past the surface.”

“Wh-what do you mean mostly?” Tim’s heart slams in his chest, “how many people have you killed, Dick?”

“Do you have any idea how awful the hunger is?” And the lower Dick’s voice goes, the harder Tim’s heart starts to pound. “Surviving on hugs and family affection is tantamount to starvation for someone like me. It’s so easy to kill someone during sex because the hunger is so much I can’t control it sometimes. Anyone I’m with is in danger. That’s why I couldn’t stay with Babs, she’s too human. The one time I came close–”

Dick breathes again and all Tim looks at is the span of throat, thinking of the soft, vulnerable parts, anything he can use to get the fuck away.

“–but I didn’t. I have...willpower sometimes. I drained her so close, though. She was-was so fragile, Timmy, and I was so hungry. I’d been starving for so damn long. She was hospitalized for longer than she’d been when the Joker shot her, and I said never again. But Wally and Kory were...different. I could go further with him without killing them, I could get more full than I’d been in a long time. It was still dangerous for them, but I was so far gone by the time...”

“They’re both still alive. Babs is still alive. Does she–?”

“Remember? Of course not. None of them do. I made sure of that, Tim, so none of them would be afraid of me.” And the air changes when Dick gets closer, his eyes get brighter, and Tim almost chokes with the almost touch to his body under his suit. “But, you are going to be different, aren’t you? I’m not going to be able to convince your mind that what you saw was a dream.”

“So what? You’re going to make me “disappear”? You’ll give Bruce some sob story about how I got tired of the vigilante life and left for college or some shit? Going to bury me where no one will ever find me?” He isn’t looking at Dick’s face, can’t see his own end coming, can’t believe he’d put all his faith and belief in this man only to have it all come to this.

Tim laughs wetly, blinking rapidly, and everything suddenly comes together. “He won’t ever come looking for me anyway. You made sure of that when you made Damian your Robin. Nice plan, Dick. No one is going to give a shit if I’m never seen again anyway.”

And it’s stupid not to at least try, not to duck and kick out, trip up whatever Dick really is, to break a window and fucking run, try to get Bruce, Clark, Kon and Bart and Cassie, to get anyone to listen to him about what Dick really is, to try to save himself.

(If you’d never figured out Dick was Robin, if you never put yourself in front of him, you’d be safe now. Miserable but safe.)

Even if it’s his own brain pan spitting this out, he knows it’s bullshit.

If he’d never approached Dick Grayson with proof Batman was losing his mind, Tim Drake wouldn’t have reached twenty-one. The way his life was going, he would have probably hung himself long before getting to this stage in his life. If he’d never had Bruce or Alfred or Dick or Steph, if he’d never had Robin, never had Young Justice or The Titans, if he’d never had the Clench, never felt the rumble under his feet as Gotham had fallen, if he’d never had the agony of losing everyone in his life, if he’d never had the drive to prove his adopted father was alive…

The civilian Tim Drake wouldn’t have had the strength to make it through life alive.

So if this is the way he goes out, if Dick is the one that ends it for him–

There’re worse ways to go.

He’s not going to be the Joker’s next victim or Ra’s al Ghul’s heir with a mix of Lazarus Pit crazy. The HIVE, the Light, the mass of aliens he’s fought, any number of Rogue Gallery thugs, none of them will be the ones to take him out.

But this?

His career as Robin started out with Dick Grayson, so maybe...maybe it’s fitting this is the way it all ends.

He sucks in a breath and finally tilts his head up, looks up into those electric blue eyes, and lets his breath out so so slow.

Because Dick is looking at him with watery eyes, with a grimace, with something Tim can actually recognize.

But those eyes light up in his penthouse perch, take on a supernatural glow, Dick snatching his wrists in bigger hands, pulling Tim closer, the heat getting through layers of Kevlar and Nomex. And just like that, he can’t pull away, can’t pull back.

There’s no way to defend himself when Dick pulls him in, when he expects to get his throat ripped out, his neck snapped, something important crushed, for the darkness to take over and his heart to slow down to a sad, weak pitter patter.

He can’t defend himself when Dick kisses him, opens his mouth, and stuns him into going completely slack.

“I told you,” Dick growls softly when he pulls back, bends enough to get Tim laid out over his shoulder, “I had other plans.”

But Tim can’t reply, can’t do anything other than lay across Dick’s back as the Romani love deamon strides down the hallway and kicks open the bedroom door.

And if Tim Drake survives until morning, shocking the hell out of the both of them, staring up at Dick’s surprised face and glowing blue eyes, if the soft touch to his jaw contrasts sharply with the bruises and red marks blossoming all over his body from an intense night with his supernatural mentor and best friend, if Dick doesn’t whisper, “finally, finally, my mate,” before kissing him.

If the power Dick drains from him doesn’t kill him, doesn’t do more than give him the most amazing span of unending multiple orgasms to ever happen, if Dick isn’t fully satisfied for the first time in his life. If Dick doesn’t call them both off patrol for the next three nights, carts Tim back to his apartment, refuses him clothes and computers and tech, tells the Titans they’re taking a break from crime fighting while Tim is tied and gagged in his bed, sated enough to listen hazily with half-mast eyes.

If Dick doesn’t hand feed him while he’s getting feeling back in his legs (finally) and give him the full run-down about his parents. If the strange mark on his abdomen doesn’t get warm whenever Dick’s hand is on it, fingers tracing the edges, making those blue, blue eyes dilate in possessiveness. If Tim doesn’t eventually escape with his sanity intact and a little terrified how much his body craves only to have Dick chase after him with single-minded purposes to convince him they’re meant to be.

Then only the man with cameras all over Gotham, waiting and watching with bated breath and fear for his Robins, unmitigated relief when his theory proves true, would be able to give all the details.

#dicktimweek2021 #winter writes #dicktim #back on my shit #dick grayson #tim drake #my ficlet #my writing

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