bee and otanzos!!!!
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bee and otanzos!!!!
the best part about bb-9e is that hux re-purposes a bb droid for otanzos to use as a service droid. there it is, right there in canon, otanzos' droid, bee
; engage
“Are you absolutely out of your mind?” Hongbin says, striding onto the bridge. N stands from his chair, prepared to be on the receiving end of a grade A Hongbin special lecture but is surprised when his friend bypasses the captain’s chair and heads directly to grave looking Ravi. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise when Hongbin starts wagging a finger in his security officers face.
N can hear Hyuk snickering behind him and doesn’t even have to look to see his first officer silence him with a cold look while Ken actually takes out his ear piece to listen more closely, watching unashamedly at what promises to be a scene.
“You!” Hongbin starts, Ravi’s eyes rolling to the ceiling like he will find patience there. The CMO continues, “You were, in fact, not released from sick bay. Care to tell me what you are doing on active duty?”
Ravi sighs heavily, “Listen-“
“Ah! Nuh uh uh! You don’t get to speak, you are to follow me to sick bay in silence or I dare you to see what happens.” Hongbin growls. Ravi’s face darkens with anger, standing swiftly, which N supposes was supposed to be intimating, but Ravi ends up wincing with pain, rather diminishing the effect. Hongbin doesn’t miss his wince, looking victorious.
“Sick bay. Now.”
“Hongbin-“ Ravi protests, “You can’t just come up here and expect-“
“Captain!” Hongbin interrupts.
N shrugs, putting up his hands, “Sorry Lieutenant, I have to side with the CMO’s decision on your health and work status.” Hongbin doesn’t even wait, grabbing Ravi’s elbow and forcibly steering him from the bridge. An awkward silence follows the lift doors closing with a swish.
“Captain,” Leo says, turning to him with an arch of his eyebrow, “A mysterious signal is coming from a M-class planet located 2.3 lightyears away. May I suggest a change in our direction?”
N could kiss his favorite vulcan, he was so thankful for the easy change in topic, the atmosphere already crackling with the excitement of finding the next adventure. He smiles, eyes glinting with mirth, “Sounds like it has our name all over it, thank you Commander.”
Straightening his shoulders, he spares a look for Ken who already has his ear piece in, head tilting and eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he listens carefully for the signal. N clears his throat and turns to point at Hyuk, “Ensign, chart coordinates for the M-class.”
Hyuk grins, hands busy at his console, “Aye, aye captain.”
; green thumb
Gongchan can feel the sun beat on his back, sweat rolling freely as he crouches down to frown at his row of carrots who chatter unhappily at him. He reflexively pulls up a newly sprouted weed he finds so he can stick his hands into their dirt, feeling around to make sure the soil has enough water and nutrients.
Of course, he finds nothing wrong, “You all are being feisty this season, huh? Just asking for all sorts of attention from me.” Gongchan scolds gently. They protest of course, their energy pulsating and reaching for him. Sighing, he pulls a green thread from his magic and gives them a little help along.
“Gongchan!”
He flinches, hands jerking back and tearing away some vines from where the carrots got too friendly as he does so. Quickly, apologizing, he stands and wipes away dripping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, squinting against the sun to see Dongwoo with his hands on his hips in the doorway of his workshop.
“You wouldn’t be spoiling the carrots again, are you?” his teacher calls.
“No?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it does anyway. Dongwoo frowns at him, but he just smiles back, knowing it’ll probably melt his teachers bad mood. Sure enough, Dongwoo rolls his eyes and taps his bare feet on the ground, motion to come over, “Time for dinner, pup.”
Gongchan yelps happily and runs to the well to wash up in the small dish they have for their hands, knowing Jinyoung would scold at him for bringing in any dirt to his clean home if he didn’t do it thoroughly. Soon enough, he is loping across the garden and dashing into the cottage. Jinyoung is already sitting at their dining table, Gongchan sliding in on the other end. Gongchan makes a questioning sound, “Where are the others?”
Jinyoung’s lips curl in a feline smile, his eyes slitting attractively as he gestures to the empty chairs around them, “Sit down, they will be here soon.”
“Sandeul went to drag Baro away from the forge.” Dongwoo informs.
“Kicking and screaming, I’m sure.” Jinyoung teases. Gongchan chortles, grabbing for a piece of bread when Jinyoung smacks his hand and narrows his eyes at him.
“Patience, child.”
Gongchan whines.
; lost away
Taemin happily drags Jinki through the morning market, practically oozing curiosity and excitement. Jinki wants to sigh but he finds himself getting carried away in his earnestness.
Minho trails behind him in a distance that is close enough, but also giving them some space as well as Taemin rushes up to a little stall selling finely crafted glass art pieces. Jinki is grateful for Minho’s presence, letting him relax a bit and focus on his charge. Taemin happily chats up the stall owner, picking up his pieces carefully to examine them and oblivious to the potential danger of roaming through the common village.
A flute rings in the air, cutting through the sounds of the marketplace and catching both his and Taemin’s attention easily. It plays a melodic tune with a lilt that speaks of the lands to the south. Immediately, Jinki is reminded of his hometown of the Southern Kingdom’s capital and can almost taste the dry, humid desert air at the sudden vivid memories. His mother’s lullaby rings in his air, “Wow.”
Taemin is intrigued at his response to the music, watching him carefully, “Jinki?”
Clearing his throat, Jinki smiles at Taemin, “Sorry, your Highness. This music is highly reminiscent of the Southern Kingdom.” Jinki winces as Taemin elbows him in the ribs, quickly looking for anyone in hearing range. Luckily the shop keeper is busy with another customer.
“Watch what you say,” he hisses before Jinki can apologize again, he is being pulled towards where the music is coming from and the small crowd that it has attracted. Taemin pushes them to the front of the crowd and Jinki’s eyes widen in recognition.
There is a lithe man standing in the middle of the crowd, strumming on his stringed wooden instrument with a feline-looking man, dressed in fine silks that show off his slender body and tan skin, gracefully is draped on his side. As the musician starts to sing, the feline man steps from him and starts to sway his hips seductively.
It’s a haunting melody, one so achingly familiar to Jinki who can’t help but to hum the counter melody under his breath. Taemin turns to him with wide, surprised eyes but Jinki’s eyes are memorized by his two clansmen performing.
The musician’s eyes flit straight to his and a spark of recognition races between them. His eyes shine with triumph, but he does not interrupt his song. Sensing the change of emotion in his song, the dancer quickly looks through the crowd and, finding him, quickly approaches with a graceful twirl and a nimble leap.
Once in front of him, the dancer touches his forehead with two fingers, lowering his eyes in a respectful sign of a servant to a master and Jinki’s heart thuds nervously. Taemin seems to not have noticed anything suspicious, eyes fixated on the Southern.
“We have found you,” Key says in a whisper, Jonghyun reaching the climax of his song, but his voice somehow still rises above it all, “Wise Counsellor.”
Their eyes both snap to him, flashing gold, and they call him together, “Brother.”
; marked
Taemin breathes out smoke, watching it curl in the chilled air as his cigarette hangs between his fingers. He pulls his leather jacket closer to his body and watches as people walk by. Hongdae is bustling at night, students hurrying in to shop and seek their thrills. Taemin watches him with a disinterested eye, sure, these trend-seeking students kept their tattoo parlor up and running but that didn’t mean Taemin wanted anything to do with him. Commoners bored him to death.
He brings the cigarette to his lips again, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling. He scuffs his shoes on the pavement before the tattoo on his back warms in warning. Flicking as from his cig, Taemin looks up and immediately catches the eye of a broad-shouldered man who is watching him with dark, mysterious eyes.
Unintimidated, Taemin takes another drag, “Can I help you?” he speaks softly, unworried about the other hearing him. His eyes wander as the stranger lifts his chin and stares him down, attracted to the long line of his neck.
“Maybe,” the stranger answers. Taemin sighs, wondering why sorcerers always feel the need to play hard to get. He drops his cigarette and stomps on it with his boot before turning on his heel and disappearing down the stairs to the shop without a word. He knew that the other would follow him and wanted play hard to get too.
Stepping into the shop, Jinki looks up and flashes a smile at him while Key ignores him to concentrate on the piercing some little girl’s lip. He walks straight past them and catches Jonghyun’s eye over his sketchpad, his hyung’s eyes darting to look at the stranger behind him and raising his eyebrows in question. Taemin shrugs and leads them into the next room to his station, sitting at his desk. The stranger hops onto the reclined bed without hesitation and gives him a lopsided smirk. The hanging lights cast appealing shadows on his handsome face.
“I need an agility tattoo and I’ve heard you are the best.” he says, immediately getting to the point.
Taemin flashes a flirty grin and says honestly, “That’s because I am.”
The stranger lifts an eyebrow, obviously not convinced, “It’s not as easy as you might think.” Taemin rolls his eyes and calls, “C’mon let’s see them then.”
He tries to keep his thoughts professional as the man takes off his shirt, revealing the intricate pattern of tattoos that lies attractively across his tanned muscular upper body, picking out the different runes and shellwork with a careful eye. He has a ton of powered tattoos, not more than some of Taemin’s regulars, but more than most.
There is a complicated celtic knot, a tattoo of protection, that wraps around his left bicep that has more detail than Taemin has ever come across. Not that Taemin can blame the tattoo artist who did it, his tanned skin is perfect for artwork and obviously takes to magic well, based on the happy buzzing Taemin could feel from a foot away. The stranger was obviously a tattooer’s dream.
Taemin finds himself tracing at the other’s tattoos before he can help himself, a Maori design snapping at him unhappy as he does so. “That one is always a little overprotective,” the stranger chuckles.
He hums noncommittally, continue to trace through the intricate pattern that wraps around his chest, over his shoulder and leaves a surprisingly blank back. Taemin guesses, “I suppose this is where you want mine?”
The man nods, turning over his shoulder to meet his gaze. “You might be able to see that my magic takes to ink well.” he states.
The obvious doesn’t need to be said, Taemin filling in what he is supposed to read between the lines. His magic takes so well to tattoo’s that he probably has to be careful with how they interact with each other in case the power saps too much from him, he also has to continuously change tattooers, careful with how much magic transfers during the tattooing process.
It a bit of a challenge, but one Taemin feels confident in overcoming. Figures the handsome customers are the most interesting and challenging ones. Taemin’s fingers skate over the man’s back, his magic instinctively showing him where his tattoo belongs.
His eyes blur, focusing solely on the faint pattern he can just see, absently, he grabs a pen and starts to free hand directly onto the man’s skin. Idly, he can feel him shiver slightly underneath his hands, but he ignores it to continue letting his magic guide him through the pattern.
Taemin shouldn’t be surprised when the man’s magic calls for his, reaching to pull more from him and, somewhat stupidly, he lets it. Their magic intertwines and dances through his fingertips, quickly following it with his pen. It’s effortless in a way that Taemin has never experienced before, getting caught up in the rush of their combined magics. The tattoo grows and more details appear before his eyes, his hand following eagerly.
Some time has passed by the Taemin pulls himself from his magic’s trance and is slightly impressed by how still the man stayed throughout the process. He takes a deep breath, blinking to get his bearings, “Woah.”
The man turns to smirk slightly at him, “I think our magics like each other.” Taemin narrows his eyes at him and chooses to not answer, instead looking down at his sketch.
His eyes widen at the large, detailed pair of wings that spread across tanned skin almost as if they were about to spread from his back into reality. The wings fit so perfectly with his other tattoos, stretching over his shoulder blades and down the back of his arms, almost as if the man had perfectly planned in forethought how the other tattoos would look with his design.
Taemin swallows nervously. That’s impossible of course, the man would never be able to choose his own designs, those came from the tattooers themselves and with how many different artists he had to go to keep his magic in check. That is, unless his magic had directed the others to leave the perfect space for him.
He shivers, the hair on his arms raising ominously. That couldn’t be, no one’s magic was strong enough to influence the tattooer to that extent-
The man then turns around, his dark eyes landing heavily on his face, serious and solemn. He asks, his tone dipped low and only for his ears, “Why do I feel like we just started something big?”
Taemin searches the other man’s face for any signs of distress or deceit. All he sees is acceptance. “Glad I’m not the only one,” he confesses in a whoosh. The stranger tilts to smile thinly at the ceiling.
“No going back now, Master Tattooer.” he declares and instantly Taemin knows he doesn’t want to go back, even if he could.
His heart speeds up as the man gracefully slides of the chair, going to twist in front of the full-length mirror to take a look at his back, unable to tear his eyes away. The other’s dark, entrancing eyes meet his own through the mirror and he sees acknowledgement there. Taemin shivers again, just wondering what he got himself into as the man speaks up.
“Kai. My name is Kai.”
And Taemin’s heart flutters in his chest.
Note: My AU is inspired by the fabulous black_goose and umberela
; you
“What is love?” he asks Namjoon one day. Their leader turns to him to give him a funny look which he pointedly avoids. Their backs are to the floor length mirrors, crouched down for a short break between reps. It’s hot and so humid in their practice rooms that causes their clothes to stick to their bodies uncomfortably, sweat dripping everywhere. He and Namjoon watch as Jimin slowly goes through their new choreography with Taehyung and Seokjin.
Out of context, it was probably a strange question, totally unrelated to what they were doing, but Yoongi has always had this ability to pour all of his soul into their dance practices. Working out his excitement, fear, embarrassment, happiness, confusion through throwing himself through their choreography until he can no longer move. It helps him think more clearly, even if the other’s make fun of his exaggerated movements all of the time. Yoongi doesn’t really mind, it’s better than going to the gym for three hours like Jimin or chowing down on some fast food like Jin.
But today he feels weighed down by his thoughts, his limbs responding to him sluggishly today. Every rep seems like ten times the effort it usually is. Usually, he doesn’t mind going through the dances 10, 20 times in a row, but today he is so ready for when Hoseok calls their practice to the end.
Namjoon gives him another side-glance before humming thoughtfully. Yoongi waits for Namjoon’s no-doubtedly long winded, but sincere answer. He knows Namjoon has been in love with his high school sweetheart for years now so he also expects some sappy memories of the two of them, before they sealed their love away to an entertainment agency. What he is not expecting is for Namjoon to say, “It’s like being real again.”
“Real?” he asks, confused.
Namjoon nods, eyes serious, “It’s like you are just existing before and after they loved you, you become something more concrete in their eyes. More real.” Yoongi nods along, but he is so confused, Namjoon’s words as if he is speaking in English. His mood darkens and he sighs, feeling dragged down by his thoughts again.
Namjoon must sense his mood because he speaks up again, “It doesn’t happen all at once,” he reassures, “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. And you are so loved sometimes that it leaves you battered and useless for anyone else, but that’s okay, because once you are real you can’t be useless, except to people who don’t understand love.”
Yoongi let’s Namjoon’s words wash over him and that’s when Jimin’s eyes catch his from across the room. Jimin pauses and electricity passes between them, causing Yoongi to shiver at the intensity. As if Jimin knows exactly what he inspires in Yoongi, a smiles spreads across his lips, his eyes sparkling at him.
Yoongi feels his insides buzz in response, every cell in his body thrumming to react to Jimin. He breathes deeply and it feels like the first sincere breath he has had all day, his worries sliding off to be forgotten and his body feeling lighter and more under his control. His heart flutters in his chest and he has to break eye contact, the swell of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
Namjoon chuckles beside him and he can feel his cheeks flush in response. He asks, “Understand now?”
Yoongi presses his hand over his still rapidly beating heart and nods, “I think so.”