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oksana-moods · 3 years

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Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

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pontmercyingtil · 5 years

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RebelCap Prompt Fill!

So, I tried to answer using ALL three prompts for your request, because it was fun. Enjoy trying to spot them! (and thank you for being such an awesome fic friend, @cassandor)

----------** All Things New and Bright **---------

“Do you ever have nightmares?” Jyn asks, her head pillowed on his chest. Outside of this cot, the chill of Hoth awaits them, and she sees no reason at all to move.

“No,” Cassian replies, his voice soft, just like the snow that must be falling outside. It’s hs nighttime voice, as she thinks of it. Private, intimate, a part of him he keeps away from the rest of the universe.

“None at all?” She shifts a little to look up at him, which accidentally sends her elbow straight into his gut. There’s the tiniest exhale from him, a faint wince. “Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “It’s the occupational hazard of sleeping with you.”

“Hey, kriff off.” Her lips narrow, but only for a second, because he’s leaning in to kiss her forehead. The forehead kiss, Jyn thinks, is a decidedly unfair tactic, one that completely negates whatever glare she was delivering.

“Kriff off? As in, go somewhere else? And leave you all cold in this cot?”

“Do it. I dare you.”

He just answers by tugging the three layers of blankets around her a little tighter. Two of them are their standard issue ones, a faded green-brown like so much else in the Rebellion. Another is bright, bright blue, and nearly brand-new. She’d seen it on a mission that for once, hadn’t required stealth or speed, and bought it with her new officer’s salary, a concept that still baffles her. Jyn knows Cassian surrenders his pay, that it goes to those more in need, but she can’t bring herself to do the same. Not yet. Not when, for the first time in years, she can buy things that are bright, soft, new.

“You know I won’t leave,” Cassian whispers. Ah. To him the joke hadn’t been funny, not like it had been to her. Because Jyn knows that, by now. He’s stuck by her side for two years, seen her at her worst and helped her be her best. Why the hell would he leave her now when she’s just started being a bright, new, type of person?

“Unless you asked,” he adds. Something sharper than a shard of glass, sharper than a razor-edged vibroblade twists in between her ribs. Her hand fumbles for his under the blankets, their callused fingers tangling. Jyn has never held a hand that doesn’t have the calluses from a blaster’s grip, and she doesn’t think she ever will.

“Well, I won’t. Unless you start hogging blankets, and we know you don’t do that.” Jyn keeps the mood light, has to. She can’t surrender to the pain inside of her, the ache of knowing that as much as she is new and bright and focused now, Cassian is still worn and tired and broken. She’s tried to mend him as best she can. But it’s hard when she doesn’t know how to fix, only to destroy, and harder yet when it is the very thing he loves, his Rebellion, that keeps shattering him, tearing him apart at all the ragged seams Jyn has welded back together with kisses and promises.

“Maybe I’ll hog blankets on another base. You never know.” He says her slang word with carefulness, as if it’s a new language to him. Cassian, she’s learned speaks seven languages fluently, and can converse in four more.

“Oh yeah? What kind of a planet would make you, Captain Cold, want a blanket?”

There. A flash of humor sparks in his eyes, the way she’s seen Skywalker’s lightsaber ignite. Both lightsaber and Cassian’s smile, she thinks, are the light of hope.

But the light fades as he ponders the question, finally admits, “Rain.”

If she hadn’t been looking at him, she might have teased him about that. Might have asked if Fest called particularly wet snow their rainy season. Might have asked if he disliked rain because it might mess up his hair.

But her gaze has been locked on his, so she knows not to. Because even the thought of rain on his hair, of rain at all, takes her back to a planet she tries to forget, a moment she can never forget. And given the coldness like a wall of ice in his eyes, Cassian is thinking the same thing.

“You know what we should do?” she asks, her voice casual still, but so light. Her own bedroom voice, one she is just learning. “Next leave? Let’s go somewhere it rains.”

“What?”

Her free hand slides up to brush the hair from his eyes, to stroke the little crease between his brows. To touch him in all the intimate, soft, new ways she’s learning. “I mean it.”

“Trust me, I have learned many times you do not say things you do not mean.”

That quirk of his lips, neither smile nor frown, she soothes with a kiss. “Good. So. Rainy planet. Or moon. Whatever. Let’s go, yeah? Let’s go and make some new memories.” It’s a wild, bold idea, one that she can’t even believe she’s suggestion. It might be the most luxurious thing she’s ever suggested to him, beyond the time she tried to convince him they had time to take a bubblebath in the mansion they’d snuck into for a recon mission. Because even then, that had been spur of the moment, a joke, admittedly laced with desire, but an impulsive joke.

This? To make plans for the future in the middle of the war? To plan for good memories when all of their best so far have been snatched out of darkness and shadows, moments of joy as much as survival. It’s an impossible thing, she’s asking for, she thinks, but one she wants to give him. “I want to kiss you in the rain,” she admits. “I want… I want to catch raindrops in my hands, and smell the wet mud. It’s got… there’s a smell to good mud, you know? It’s bright and warm and full of potential.”

“Mud-smelling is not exactly something I’ve had much experience with.” Cassian replies. But he’s talking. That’s good. Even better is when he admits, “we did… we had a greenhouse though, and my sisters and I… we’d, you know, try to build with it. Made a mess.”

“I’d make mud houses and try to chase down a Tur-Toad to stick in it. Always collapsed by the time I got one.”

The corner of his eyes crinkle. “You should build with snow. Much more stable.”

“And where am I gonna find a Tur-Toad in the snow, huh?” Really, where would she find one anywhere but Lah'mu, anywhere but a planet she didn’t want to go back to. Which meant, perhaps, one day, she should.

“Are Tur-Toads really that important to this diorama?”

“Absolutely.” she shifts in the blanket nest again, her cold feet brushing over his calf. She has a bad habit of kicking her socks off.

“Shavit!” he curses, one of the words he’s picked up from her. “Those are like ice, Jyn. You didn’t tell me you’re cold.”

“I’m not,” she promises. Smiling, because he is too. Because they managed to get past the pain of the past, to even find some small joy in stories of their long-ago past. It would baffle the others, people like Leia, who asked what Jyn and Cassian talk about. No one would believe the two so-called heroes spend a good deal of time arguing over Tur-Toads and cold feet.

“Mm.” he fusses more with the blankets, holds her closer. “So, a rainy planet. Full of mud and tur-toads.”

“One with a spring,”Jyn insists. If they're going to build this dream that may never come true, then she wants it to be the best possible of all options. “I like spring.” Likes its potential, the light, the longer days.

“I do, too.” This time, it’s Cassian who leans forward, who kisses her, shy at first, like he always is (except when they’re kissing after an argument), warming to her the way snow melts, slow, then all in a rush. She tucks her head in the crook of his shoulder after. They should both sleep. Soon. Tomorrow will come and there will be no spring, not on Hoth, and they will have work to do.

It’s just…

She sighs. “I still have nightmares.” There. The topic that had woke her, the topic that she’d hoped he would share.

“You do?” his voice is a low rumble now, protective. “You haven’t… you never told me.”

Because he sleeps so rarely. Because once he falls asleep she’s terrified to wake him. Because oftentimes, reaching out and feeling he still has a pulse is enough to send the nightmare away. Because… she doesn’t want to admit this. Hates admitting anything. He won’t leave her, he’d said, but a lifetime of being left points to the opposite, and she’s scared to trust in a future that might be different. “They’re worse when you’re gone.”

He’s silent. Thinking. There’s nothing to be thought of, though. He can’t comm her, not when he’s allowed no communication back to base. Can’t send her flirty holomessages the way Solo does to Commander Organa, because even if he was permitted to, both of them would die of mutual embarrassment before finishing a recording. And he absolutely can’t start skipping missions. Not for her.

Sleep tugs at her. She yawns. “It’s fine, Cass.”

“No, I…” he starts, but is cut off by another yawn. This time, one of his. He kisses the top of her head now, since it’s all he can reach with her clinging to him like a mynock. “Boordii has nice rain,” he says. “Spent a few months there as Aach a few years ago. No Imps, no bases. Just a bunch of smugglers and some cigara greenhouses.”

“That where Aach got his bad habit?”

“Maybe.” He lets out a deep breath. “Nice planet. Lots of places to play Sabaac, so that’ll keep you happy. Good food. You’ll have to let me know about the mud.”

“Boordii, huh?” her eyes slide closed again. “Tell me more.” She falls asleep listening to him describe the remote planet, and then, what they might do on leave there.

Four nights later, he wakes her with that same gentle nighttime voice, but this time, it’s to tell her he’s headed out. They never say goodbye. Not to each other. But he does let her know when he leaves, and she does command the Force to be with him, making the well-wish sound more like a one-woman threat against the greatest power in the universe.

When she wakes, she finds three things on the stack of crates that serve as their dresser. An old, handwoven blue blanket, with a note on top of it. It’s his handwriting, because no one else has writing that looks as if each letter is personally attacking the next one after it. “Stay warm.” her fingers skim the blanket, feel the soft wool. There’s what looks like a burn singe in the top corner. The lines of color are sharp peaked stripes, and suddenly, she remembers Fest used to be famous for such weavings.

Under the blanket is, impossibly, delightfully, a stuffed toy, small, with little bits of scrap duraplast for eyes, and the exact same faded green-brown as the Alliance fatigues it must have been sewn from. The same green-brown of all Tur-Toads.

When she lifts it, she sees there’s something attached, a tiny datachip. Toad and blanket in hand, she pads back to the cot, and plugs in the datachip to the pad that she’s claimed as half-hers, since the ALliance is short on new ones. It has multiple files. Leave paperwork. Fake IDs for both Aach and a lady smuggler named Raine Tur. The name makes her smile, though she does wish he hadn’t used that picture of her mid-sneeze from that day he’d made stuffed hot peppers. Kay had taken the holo, though, and it’s a good enough memory to forgive the depiction... which is probably why he picked it in the damn first place. Clearance for them to head to Boordi.

It has, she realizes, all she needs to hope for the spring that will come someday, making everything soft and bright and new.

#RebelCaptain #cassianXJyn #cassjyn #cassian andor #prompt fill #my fanfic

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soap-brain · 7 years

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Haha I'll give you a happy prompt ( there's never enough spirk in this world ) : Spock realizes his feelings for Jim and just completely FREAKS OUT ( in a "this isn't logical this human spends 99% of his time finding new ways of annoying me SURAK HELP ME" way ). So he starts avoiding Jim ( like, puts himself on beta shift, pratically runs everytime they're in the same room because my poor boy is traumatized) and oc, Jim is NOT happy about Spock's behavior. I guess this could be a "wtf" prompt XD

... but i finally finished it. god, i’ve been studying so much the past few days, and then i accidentally wrote You Always Meet Twice and ... yeah, i know.

anyways. finally!!

since @shamanship requested “TOS Spirk get together”, I filled both prompts in one.

Under the cut: EmotionsShip: TOS SpirkRating: GenWordcount: 1529

Pesky Human Emotions

The first thing Spock notices about his new superior officer is that he has a pleasant voice.

Over the years he notices many things - James Kirk has kind eyes, gentle hands, an intriguing sense of humor, he’s intelligent, witty, communicates well, has a variety of interests.

Spock gets hurt on an away mission - not badly, and he is fully capable of suppressing the pain until they are back on the Enterprise. Captain Kirk, however, is extremely worried and demands Spock to beam up straight away.

“I didn’t want to see you in pain, Spock,” he says as an explanation, with a smile Spock has noted Kirk seems to frequently employ around him.

The first time Spock fails to complete an assignment on time he is, for lack of a better word, ashamed. Idly he wonders whether another Vulcan, a full-blooded one, would not have failed. He also wonders what Captain Kirk’s reaction will be. Certainly there will be a punishment of sorts; after all, Spock’s work is of high importance for the Enterprise.

“God, Spock, are you okay?” is what Kirk says when he answers to Spock’s call. “Look, for all you say you didn’t catch that weird strain of the flu - I want you to report to medbay and have Dr McCoy check you over. Your work can wait. Your health is more important for the Enterprise - for me - than a report.”

Incidents like such repeat themselves. Kirk also frequently invites Spock to his quarters for dinner. He is a good conversationalist and it is pleasant to talk with him. He also shows himself interested in Vulcan culture, asking intelligent questions but not pressing.

They take up chess eventually and Spock finds himself looking forward to their regular matches. Kirk portrays an exemplarily positive attitude towards Spock, even going so far as to tease him on occasion, which Spock understands is a display of affection.

“I trust you,” Kirk says one day during a very delicate away mission. Spock’s plan, which he had had to start without having explained it to the captain, ends up saving the entire team. It is something Spock could and should be proud of. Instead all he can think about is that Captain Kirk trusts him.

They are sitting chained in a dungeon of a lesser evolved race that caught them during a mission that was supposed to be simple observation. The cave-like structure is cold, even more so since they have had their uniform shirts taken away. Kirk fell asleep eventually, but Spock is too cold and too uncomfortable to do so. Instead, he analyzes their surroundings. After there is nothing more to see, he observes Kirk. It is certainly not news that the Human is physically attractive. He has a great many desirable features - a healthy, golden skin color, shining golden hair, kind brown eyes, broad shoulders, a well-muscled torso, strong hands … a pleasing face, too. He is also a man of good character. Spock can count himself lucky (if he did believe in luck) to serve under a man like him.

“Call me Jim. We’re off-duty.” Jim. It sits easy on his tongue. Of course Spock would never call him that on duty.

Jim laughs easily, and Spock finds he enjoys finding ways of making him laugh.

They huddle for warmth on an icy planet, and Spock finds that Captain Kirk - Jim has a pleasant smell. He is also tactile, but Spock finds he does not mind being touched by him. He is getting rather attached to his captain, to an extent where he begins wondering what Jim is doing when he is not in the room with Spock.

He walks in on Jim just stepping out of the shower one afternoon. It is the first time this happened, even though they have shared a bathroom the entire time Spock is serving on the Enterprise. Jim laughs and tells him not to worry about it. Spock does not worry, he merely … cannot stop thinking about the Human naked.

In fact, he cannot stop thinking about Jim at all, missing a touch moments after Jim took it away, subconsciously standing closer to him, even initiating touches himself. He finds himself drawing chess games out far longer than necessary, often forfeiting winning.

Jim Kirk is prone to ripping his shirt. Spock wishes he were even more careless with his uniform. It is fascinating to watch him work out, as the workout clothes do sit quite well on him.

Spock begins delivering each report on its own, simply so he has an excuse to see Jim more often. It is becoming extremely distracting. Jim need only smile at him, and Spock is infinitely more happy for the rest of the day.

It has to stop.

Spock begins meditating each night as opposed to only once per week, attempting to control himself. The cracks in his façade are becoming unseemly and unprofessional. He almost smiles at Jim, actively attempts to touch his fingers because of the thoroughly enjoyable sensation it produces, even goes so far as to make up scenarios that would somehow involve either of them having to embrace the other.

But meditation seems to make it worse. While at first it rebuilds Spock’s cool exterior, his slightly changed behavior is making Jim pout, which is hardly something he can resist thinking about. It is - cute, for lack of a better word.

It is during one of his communications with his mother that some things begin to make sense.

“You know, Spock, you’ve told me an awful lot about that Jim of yours. When am I going to meet him?”

“‘Meet him’, mother?”

She looks almost affronted. Perhaps an Earth emotion Spock is not too familiar with. “Why, yes of course. I thought a mother had the right to meet her son-in-law.”

“Mother, I am afraid you are misunderstanding. He is not - we are not - romantically involved.”

“But you like him so much. Tell me, Spock, can’t you stop thinking about him? About his eyes, perhaps, his voice, his touch? Does your heart begin beating faster when he’s around? Do you want to stand closer to him, embrace him, perhaps? Do you wish to spend more and more time with him?”

Spock can only stare. “I have not … told you any of these things …”

“And yet I know? Spock, what you are feeling isn’t friendship anymore … it’s love.”

Love. That is unacceptable. And since it only appeared after prolonged exposure to J- to Captain Kirk, it is only logical that it will fade over time if Spock lessens the exposure.

He requests being put on beta shift the next morning. Kirk looks like he is experiencing - an emotion, but he agrees.

Furthermore, there is no point in Spock turning in every report by hand. Submitting them virtually works just as well. And with his new interest in botany it is crucial that Spock spends a great amount of time in the laboratories. There is no time for chess.

Kirk accepts that. He does however come to the botany labs quite often to enquire about the status of Spock’s current project, and Spock does not always have the heart to turn him away. It makes him look … sad. Spock does not like it.

“I know it’s only been a month since we last talked but - Spock, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, mother.”

“Is that so? You look sad. Is everything okay?”

“Affirmative.”

“He turned you down, didn’t he? Oh, darling, I am so sorry.”

“I beg your pardon, mother, but I do not understand.”

“Well, you told him about your feelings, and he doesn’t reciprocate them, does he? Your captain.”

“That must have been a misunderstanding. I do not hold any feelings other than loyalty towards Captain Kirk.”

“Spock. Don’t lie to your mother. Please.”

“Very well. Mother, you must understand that it is improper of me to desire anything other than friendship from my captain. Furthermore, I cannot allow myself the vulnerability of giving in to base instinct. Forgive me, but I am not human. And I have no desire to be.”

“No, of course not. But - Spock, do yourself a favor. Do me a favor. Tell him. If he doesn’t feel the same way, he’ll without doubt let you down gently and you’ll have closure. But if he does feel the same, you’ll forever regret not taking the opportunity. It’s simple. Tell him your feelings towards him are more than platonic. He’ll understand.”

“I - mother, I am unsure whether that is the correct way to go about things.”

“He’s human. Of course it is. Now go. He’s just next door, isn’t he? Go over there and tell him. You were brave enough to be the first Vulcan in Starfleet, you can do this. It’s just a couple words. Trust him, Spock.”

Spock does.

Spock ends the call and stands up, leaving his quarters and requesting entrance at Jim’s.

“Spock!” The Human’s eyes are soft and there’s a smile on his lips. “Come in! What can I do for you?”

Spock takes a deep breath.

i hope this was more or less what you were looking for :p

sorrynotsorry for the cliffhanger

Spirk Tag List: @jim-kirk-grab-n-kiss @toosouthernforspace @igottrekked @burnhamofvulcan

Everything Tag List: @bottomkirk @gumballgladiator @sixclawsdragon @logicheartsoul @kagenightray @jimothyandspocko @logicallythyla @needles-and-ink @headcanonsilove @i-am-a-real-human-being @fallenpiestiel @skyeries @alanna342 @shamanship @startrektrash @lesbiantasha

prompts are err... technically still open, i’m just slow af :p but still, please shoot something my way!

#spirk #jim kirk #spock #star trek #star trek tos #fanfic #my writing #dianaatrevor #ask #answered

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