#[no ships will be forced on this blog. you got my word on it]

[momodita]

snapshots. [—millions knives]

TAGS / WARNINGS: trigun stampede verse, no crash       au, gender neutral reader, possessive behavior,       plant mating cycles (implied aphrodisiac       effect), jealousy, implied predator/prey WC: 1,000 NOTE: buff knives save me. save me buff knives.

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

“What do you think of Vash.”

Knives doesn’t ask questions—he makes demands. You’ve barely set the tray with his supper down before he speaks. This side of the ship is out of range of the hull’s lights. He’s facing away from the window, but even his reflection seems to stare. The air is noticeably sweet—almost unbearably so. Like honey.

“Good evening to you, too.” The tease comes first, reflexively. His nose wrinkles, expression testy. He’s confined himself to the ship’s residential sector all day: no wonder he’s extra irritable, you didn’t hear anyone else en route to his room.

“Answer me,” he commands.

You appraise him, pausing. His clothes are loose—as casual as he’ll allow himself. He looks no less ruffled than normal, but his body is poised: the eerily motionless outline of him stark against the midnight stretch of glass.

“We’re friends? I'm sure he would say the same.” You pull words with careful truth. Since childhood, Knives has stuck to Vash like glue. Rarely are they seen apart, except the occasions they fight and when duty pulls them to different sectors.

Vash is companionable and easy to approach; the same cannot be said for his brother. Yet over the years you’ve come to consider Knives somewhat of a close friend as well.

You tell him this—cheerful despite his mood—but he merely stares, expression pinched; unsatisfied. The honeyed air is so thick, you can almost feel the crawl of it in your lungs.

“You’re hiding something,” he insists, agitated. “That’s not all, is it?” He’s losing patience. You’ve no idea what inspired these questions, what he hopes to gain from asking them. Is he perhaps envious of his brother’s wide network of friends? In no lifetime would he care for tips on getting along with people. That’s how he's always been—a far cry from his personable, people-loving brother, but no less intelligent.

Head tilting, your confusion is obvious. “…What’s with the interrogation?” If you’d known he was in the mood to scrutinize, you wouldn’t’ve volunteered to bring his dinner.

“Answer me.” He steps forward, closing the short distance between you. Instinct tells you to flee, but it’s just Knives. He’s just Knives. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. How he dotes on you.”

Vash dotes on everyone. He supplies you snacks during long shifts, he cracks jokes that make you laugh, he listens to your worries, he keeps you company in the wee hours—but he does that with everyone. He’s let you nap in his room a couple times, but it’s closer than yours and you’ve been found dozing off in the kitchens. A bed is better than the floor.

“Knives, are you alright?” He’s got all the movement and concentration of a hunting animal. The kind you’ve seen from archived media. You take an instinctive step back.

He descends upon you like a wall. The years have been kind to his height and build: he closes the distance between you in just three strides. Fear blooms, unbidden and merciless—you think he’s going to hit you. But there’s a bruising pressure around your arm, his grapple like iron as his heaving chest presses against you—into you—forcing a hasty retreat until your heel knocks the door.

The movement pushes air from your lungs, and you realize late—much too late, far too late considering who you’re dealing with—that he is the reason for this sweet aroma. It fills your nose as he aligns your bodies together, all but squishing you into the cold steel.

“Stay,” he hisses. A wide, hot palm pressing into your hip. “Tell me what you think of my brother.” The hairs on your nape stand straight as he speaks against your temple. “All of it.”

(The other crew members had seemed apprehensive. One suggested to wait for Vash so he could do it. But it’d gotten too late. There was no guarantee he’d come back. They’d been apprehensive, but maybe… maybe not for the reason you initially thought.)

“You’re not for him,” he’s saying, sounding almost delirious. “You’ll never be for him.”

“I’m not for anyone!” Alarmed by his strength—his unwillingness to release you, struggling is an easy choice. “Knives, let’s think rationally—”

“I am thinking rationally.” He looses a rough, clipped breath. Nerves splinter a fierce trail down your spine when his face presses into the length of your throat.

“You’re not.” It’s useless to admonish him in this state: he listens to nothing. Not logic, not facts, not even Rem. “Knives, let me—let me get Vash. I’ll get Vash and we can—”

The teeth are a surprise. They scrape up your throat—a ragged breath flickers down your esophagus, fingers jumping up to fist into the material of his shirt. The heat of his body is unrelenting. The saccharine smell is so violently potent. It makes your knees oddly weak.

“You’re mine.”

…What?

You nearly go limp against him—the shock saps you of any fight. He’s acted this way a handful of times before. The memories are finally resurfacing: being easily aggravated, making impossible childish demands. It happens infrequently, but on a schedule. And this syrupy fragrance… you’ve experienced it before in a diluted form: years ago, when Vash had been red-faced and forced to tell you about certain cycles—

“Knives, this smell isn’t—don’t tell me you’re—”

“You came to me willingly,” Knives breathes, rough and low. His markings begin pulsing with light. His mouth is hot and wet as it moves over your rabbiting pulse. Hungry. “You knew.”

Oh. Oh no.

“I came to deliver your food,” you protest, muffled into his chest as his arms tighten, squeezing you against him. He looses something like a growl into the dip of your shoulder, rubbing his face there. “Knives,” you plead.

Distant thundering footsteps approach. His eager fangs are sharp—they threaten to break skin. And you, for all your struggle, cannot muster the coherence to protest.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hello

I would like to request a smut prompt for Sergeant Hunter. (Only if you’re up for it oc)

I had ❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜ in mind. It’s fits him so well 👀

Or, if you’re in the mood for something else,

❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

The choice is yours, cheers ^^

emerges from my cave, writes hurt/comfort instead of smut, disappears back into my cave. sorry nonnie, the smut muse didn't want to cooperate for this one

Tell Me

Summary: Hunter does his best to protect you, but feels he must prove it in more ways than one. Prompt in bold and red.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: allusions to harassment, Hunter being bad at talking about his feelings, fade to black so nothing NSFW but this blog is still 18+, first kiss, hurt/comfort vibes

You've never experienced Hunter's anger like this. He usually doesn't let his emotions get the better of him and, no matter his own issues, ensures the squad stays mostly on task. Even when hiccups interrupt the plan, he rolls with the punches. The Bad Batch has a 100% mission success rate for a reason. 

But tonight the issue is so much more than a mere hiccup. No, the creep at the cantina was far more unpleasant. 

The squad can gather intel in its sleep; any of you could've staked the cantina out alone and been successful. Hunter had insisted everyone partake. In hindsight, you're glad he pushed for it, even if you and Crosshair both grumbled aloud at Hunter's mother-hennishness. You'd strode straight into the shithole bar, determined to get what you were sent for and get out as quickly as possible. 

Then that stranger got a little too friendly. He'd invaded your personal space and put his hands on you despite your very evident discomfort, reeking of cheap alcohol and bad decisions. 

Hunter had stepped in. Well... he'd done more than that. You're not envious of the stranger and his freshly broken nose.

The sergeant, glowering and shaking his hand out, had growled at the others to stay put and finish the mission. Then he'd all but ordered you back to the ship, giving you no choice but to follow or risk his wrath as well. 

Now, back on board the Marauder, you sigh as your irritation grows, prickly and uncomfortable in your chest. "Hunter."

"What," he snaps. 

"You don't have to babysit me." Crossing your arms, you lean against the bulkhead, fixing him with an unimpressed glare. 

"I'm not—" He turns away, jaw working. Shadows play over his face, backlit by the ship's control panels. His heaving chest gives enough indication that he's mentally working through something.

Softening, you take a step toward him. "Will you at least talk to me?"

His nostrils flare as you move closer. "You— You smell him now." 

"I'm sorry?"

"S'not your fault," he says, misinterpreting your words. His shoulders slump. "It's my job to protect you- you all. And I was so close to failing tonight." 

"Hunter," you say gently, holding one hand out. 

He looks down at your outstretched palm and tentatively reaches to hook your fingertips together. Even through the coarse fabric of his blacks, his warmth scorches through you. Though his nose remains scrunched, when his eyes find yours, he seems to finally step back from the edge of anger. But the emotions continuing to shine in his eyes give you pause. 

Swallowing down the burgeoning hope in your chest forcing out the irritation, you squeeze his fingers. "I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do. But is this about protecting me? Or is this something else? I- I can shower if it's a sensory issue—"

"No," he interrupts. Adjusting his hold, his fingers twine between yours. He tugs you closer. "I mean—it won't be an issue for long. Kark, I'm goin' about this all wrong." 

The sergeant sighs, pulling you in for a hug. While you've embraced him before, surprise hums along your veins. Tentative, you wrap your arms around his middle, and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, where his own scent is strongest, a unique blend of earth and musk and sweat that makes your insides stir. He tightens his arms. 

"Not that this isn't nice," you say, voice muffled, "but what're you doing?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Making you smell like me." 

You blink. "Oh." Without meaning to, you inhale a deep breath, his warm scent swirling within your lungs. "You do smell good."

Hunter chuckles. The sound vibrates against your chest. "That right?"

Humming in affirmation, you press the bridge of your nose to his skin. His pulse beats against your nose; its pace quickens. For a heartbeat, you manage to contain the response that leaps to the tip of your tongue. Is this really the time?

But then again, you've been waiting for the right time to broach the subject of your feelings for months. You've shared a few hugs, left countless lingering looks when you think he isn't looking, chased an orgasm or two in silence when he's not around. If you keep waiting, the right time won't ever happen. And you'll be left wondering.  

Throwing caution to the wind, you say, "Be easier if you take your armor off." 

"Mesh'la," he murmurs. The endearment somehow sounds like a warning. "I- Your heart is racing. You're not thinking clearly."

Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you resist the urge to pull away at what feels like a rejection. Have you been reading all the signs wrong? Did you misread the situation earlier? You're relatively certain any of the squad would have jumped to your defense--but would the others have needed to be physically restrained from doing more damage? Would Wrecker have had to pry Tech, or Crosshair, or Echo, away from your assailant like he'd done to Hunter?

No, you decide, you've been reading the signs correctly. Stepping out of his embrace but not his orbit, you search Hunter's gaze. Threading your fingers together once again, you raise his hand to brush your lips over the knuckles surely bruising under his gloves. Hunter's lips part in surprise. 

"I'm thinking perfectly clearly." You hesitate, then forge ahead. "Tell me you don't feel anything for me, and I'll go back to pining in silence. Tell me I'm the only one who sees something here. Tell me... Tell me you broke his face because I'm part of the squad, and no other reason. Please."

Hunter inhales a shallow breath. His eyes, gray in the dim light of the Marauder's controls, sear into yours with an unidentifiable mix of emotions. "I can't." 

Relief floods through you. With a weak smile, you gesture to yourself. "Do I still smell like him?" 

He nods. 

"Do you care for me?"

Another nod, stronger than the previous. 

"Then do something about it, Hunter." Guiding his gloved touch to your face, you lean into his warmth. 

His throat bobs when he swallows. After another moment of silent indecision, Hunter steps into your personal space, gaze searching your expression. He must not find anything worth stopping for, because his grip tightens behind your jaw. The tip of his crooked nose slides along the side of your own nose, breath puffing warm and unsteady over your face. 

You close the gap. Your mouths slot together, and it's like coming home after a long time away. Humming in the back of your throat, you press closer, deepening the kiss without hesitation. Hunter follows your lead. His armor still blocks you from truly feeling him, but you don't care. His lips are on yours, and your heart is his. 

Your name slips from his lips like a prayer. Eyes fluttering open, you peer up at him from beneath your lashes. "Yes?" 

"A-Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Then let me prove that you're mine," he murmurs. His touch lingers along your waist before drifting towards your center. "Let me prove that I take care of what belongs to me." 

A shiver skates up your spine. "Show me."

Ragu list: to be added or removed go here!

@dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations

@523rdrebel @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles

@starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

@sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @dickarchivist @a-single-tulip

@thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831

@mssbridgerton @isaidonyourknees @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins

@dangraccoon @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl  @zenrobbins0021

[cinnbar-bun]

hi hi this has to be my favorite one piece writing blog, seriously ur writing makes me so happy 😭🖤

not sure if i can request multiple characters but do you mind if i can get general sfw/nsfw headcanons for jinbe and brook?

sorry i really like weird old men (again love your writing and i hope you have a very nice day!!!!!)

A/n: Aw thank you sweetheart. Please enjoy this~! Also, sorry for not posting for a bit, I’ve been exhausted from work and lost some motivation to write oneshots :( but I just love Brook so much so I had to do this.

Brook + Jinbei General SFW + NSFW HCs

Note: separate relationships, reader is GN, smut headcanons inside. Fluffy mmm.

Word Count: 874

Brook

Brook, ever the performer, loves waking you up or lulling you to sleep with his music. Heck, he’ll even burst out into song throughout the day for you if you wish. He’s your 24/7 skeletal radio.

Sometimes he also does freestyle music and makes up lyrics and beats on the spot about whatever you’re doing or how he feels. They’re usually cheesy and not all that serious, but they never fail to lift your spirits up.

Brook likes to be dramatic in your presence to get some attention from you. Sometimes he’s like a spoiled baby but he can’t help it- you’re too amazing!! And he loves you so much!!

If you’re ever feeling too hot, Brook will always put a hand to your head or elsewhere to help you cool down with his devil fruit powers. He’s your not so little walking ice pack.

Brook, while eccentric, is still an old man at heart so he often likes to treat you and spoil you the old-fashioned way. Kneeling on the main deck as you’re on the top deck while he performs you sweet sonnets and ballads he made just for you. Always wanting to keep an arm around your waist. Walking on the street side of the sidewalk. Buying you flowers at any given moment.

He’s a charming gentleman, and it’s very clear when it comes to you.

That being said, he can still be a pervert and it’s full force for you.

He goes gaga over your body! Literally loses his soul when he even gets a peek of you because ??? Hello??? You’re beautiful??

Beyond just sexually, he adores your body. It’s hard for him to explain the feeling but ever since he’s become just a pile of bones, he’s found a greater appreciation for the human body.

When he’s in bed with you, he wants to explore every inch and crevice of your body. Don’t get shy on him now, it’s not like he even has eyes to stare at you, YOHOHOHO!

Kidding, but really, when you two are getting intimate, he focuses on you and your reactions a great deal. He can’t have sex with you the way a human would, so most of his pleasure is derived from your enjoyment- yeah, he’s still got it.

His phalanges are god tier, argue with the wall!!!

Jinbei

Local dad-friend to the crew, loyal husband to you. You might not even be married but you might as well be, that’s just how sweet he is.

He really likes trying new things with you. Even something as small as a new ice cream flavor makes him happy. It’s rather silly and mundane, but something about doing it with you makes it feel wonderful.

“‘Cereal milk’…? There’s really a flavor for that?!”

And alongside new things, he likes to make traditions for the two of you. He’s a very sentimental man, so it can end up being something like eating that one specific dish you two had on your first date, or having a spot on the ship to sit and cuddle.

Jinbei makes sure you get a healthy amount of fruit in you. He will be casually leaving you a plate of freshly cut fruits and a glass of water beside you. He’s not letting you devoid yourself of essential nutrients and hydration. Will force feed you if necessary.

Okay this is just my headcanon but he’s got old man eyes so if something is in smaller fonts he squints and holds the page up to his face to try and read it. It isn’t until you offer to just read it for him that he FINALLY gives in and has you read it for him.

He’s got a great laugh. A hearty, jovial laugh that anyone in the crew can hear from miles away. Honestly, your jokes might not even be that good, but to him, it’s hilarious. Just being so carefree and funny like this is special to him. Your jokes and funny faces seriously make his day, so please never feel embarrassed to tell him one.

I don’t have a segue for this. He is just a big boy.

And yeah, he knows that he’s huge, which is why he takes extra care to make sure you’re properly stretched and ready to take him.

He never really put too much thought into his body beyond his strength, but he has to admit, he loves when you shower attention and compliment his body. Especially in the bedroom, his face just warms up and he gets a bit prideful. It gets him going knowing his body turns you on so much.

Gentle giant. He’s not going to go feral on you, especially not during the first few times you two lay together. He may consider that sort of thing later, alongside many safety measures.

He does enjoy doggy, but also, he finds it so sexy when you ride him. Forward or reverse, it doesn’t matter. It’s also a pretty good compromise because he can let you set a pace while joining with you to get it “rougher” if you so wish.

Lots and lots of praise from Jinbei, all whispered lovingly into your ear as he’s pounding into you <3

[irishhorse-blog]

I received the usual private messages telling me how delulu I am, how disrespectful I am to Jimin because he clearly said he's single and not looking. Okay. I'm not going to respond to each message individually, so I'll address these things here.

Yes, I heard what he said. I know that there are many ways to interpret his words and the signals and signs that have been shown for lo this past decade. Some will see it at face value; some will see it through hate; some will see it through protective lenses; others will see it in a shipper's light. Do any of us really know what he means, or what his life situation is? No. I and the other Jikook stans could be completely wrong.

When I started shipping, I was ambivalent about the whole process. It's honestly gross to force a romantic narrative onto real people when it's very likely to not only be untrue but also offensive to the people involved. I never got involved in RP shipping before, and if I'm honest, the concept sort of squicked me out.

So why do I write a Jikook blog, you may ask? I believe in what I see. I believe that they're actually a couple and that they're actually in a committed relationship. I'm not shipping them. I'm supporting them. And if it turns out that I'm wrong and I've been an assclown this whole time, so be it. I still love them, and I'm still here for it. My first priority and the only thing I have ever wished for them is that they're happy, no matter what they're doing, no matter who they end up with. I hope they find the lives and the loves that they want, because they deserve it.

I believe that Jikook is real. I also believe that there is subtext to the things that Jimin was saying in the second MiniMoni video. I do listen to what he says, and what JK says, and what the other guys say about them. It's the combination of all these words over all these years that has convinced me.

Whatever the truth is, it may never be something we out here in the wider world get to know. It might be that their lives will always remain private, and that's okay. I swear that I won't have a conniption or throw a hissy fit if it turns out that both JK and Jimin end up marrying women and having families of their own. I think they'd both be wonderful fathers, for what it's worth.

I just don't think they will. And only time will tell.

So, keep slinging accusations at me, and keep accusing me and belittling me if it makes you happy. What you have to say means nothing to me. My opinion is my own, and in the grand scheme of things, in the face of death, destruction, war and grief, it hardly matters whether or not two celebrities I'll never meet in person are busy sevening each other. I'm not going to argue about this. There are more important things in this world that deserve my attention and my energy.

[lemotmo]

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Q. It annoys me that you were initially into Tommy and down to ship with us. I don't understand how you could have become so against it when you said yourself that you got his appeal. I don't agree with most of the things that you say but you do frame an argument well so it would have been helpful to have you on our side instead of against us.

A. You won't find the words 'I ship them' anywhere on my blog. I never once said that. I did say I got his appeal in 7x4. But that's because the show meant for the audience to see it in that particular episode. I did say he could stick around for a bit, with the expectation that he stayed the way he was written in 7x4. My opinion of him changed because the show intended for it to change. By episode 7x6 he became a standard issue plot device. The only reason I can, as you say, frame my arguments well is because I allow the storyline to frame my arguments. I'm not trying to force a narrative. Your argument is harder to make because you are trying to force a narrative. You can't take the storyline at face value because it contradicts what you WANT the story to be. That's the difference in our arguments.

The show has willingly written themselves into a corner with Buck and Eddie. But if, IF the show was ever going to put actual effort into one of their love interests Tommy was their chance. He had existing ties to the 118 history wise the narrative isn't great but this is 911 they could have magically retconned his past if they'd wanted to. He also had a job that was easy to work into the show. They had what they needed to at least try, but once again, they put zero effort into actually trying. He got the bare minimum of screen time and dialogue, and as a result they were always going to be selective with what they chose to have him say. He also never appeared in an episode that didn't also feature a scene between Buck and Eddie that contrasted his view of Evan vs Eddie's view of Buck. That was intentional. The show wanted the audience to see the difference. The bachelor party was blatant in this regard. Buck wanted to throw Chim a party and, in typical Buck style, went overboard. Tommy got invited, chose not to dress for the occasion, and left relatively early. Eddie not only suggested their look, but he picked costumes that relied on them appearing as a pair at the party. He was also the only person who stayed with Buck after everyone else bailed on him. Your side's arguments against both these things is that Tommy was on duty so of course he couldn't stay or dress to the theme. But the writers are the ones who put him on duty. The writers are the ones who sent him to work during the bachelor party. It was an intentional writing choice. They wanted him gone so they could use the rest of the party to parallel the story Eddie would later tell Christopher about how he met Shannon. The framing of the medal ceremony is another blatant example. When they were collecting their medals the show made a point of panning to their person/family in the audience. Yes with Tommy they panned to Buck, there were no other options for him, but with Buck they panned to Eddie, and a background Christopher. That was a deliberate choice. Again, your side's argument against this is because Tommy was already on stage so they couldn't pan to him. Again, that's because the show chose to write it that way. If they had wanted to be able to pan to Tommy they would have written the order differently. They would have swapped Eddie for Tommy in the medal order. It's that simple. Even their second kiss wasn't without the presence of Eddie. The show made a point of showing the Buckley parents and Eddie's reaction. Again, an intentional choice. Now take the finale. The audience saw Buck and Eddie as a singular unit throughout that episode, which is how they are always presented. They also reinforced how big a presence in Christopher's life Buck is. The audience watched Buck witness Eddie losing Christopher and watched Bobby, the man Buck sees as a father figure, basically die. They deliberately chose not to make Tommy's one scene in that episode be at the hospital. They deliberately chose not to use his 2 small lines of dialogue to provide any sense of comfort. They chose to use his dialogue to make a sex joke. Specifically a daddy sex joke. That was an intentional choice. A horribly timed disgusting joke given the circumstances of that particular episode. A choice that was so poorly received by the audience and critics alike that Tim tried to defend it and excuse it away before giving up and shutting up about it, but I digress. Yes, It was a poor choice but it was a deliberate choice to have Tommy, once again, focus and deal with Buck on a physical aspect instead of any kind of emotional aspect. The show framed this narrative, anon not me. I just wrote it down. It's why so many people on your side went straight to anger and insults as their weapon of choice because they couldn't rely on the narrative for help. That's not my fault rather it annoys you or not.

Thanks Nonny!

Yes, I completely agree here.

The only difference is that I am one of those people who didn't vibe with Tommy from the beginning. Even in that first episode I didn't find him interesting at all. I do admit that could have been coloured by my Buddie shipping glasses, as I am very much a mono-shipper.

As the episodes went on, my impression of him started going even more downhill. The man was written to be dismissive and uninterested in Buck's interests. While Eddie happily went along with everything Buck did or wanted to do.

The way they kept on showing Buck and Eddie as one strong unit in almost all of the episodes sealed the deal for me. It was then that I realised Tommy was a plot device to help Buck out of the closet and he wouldn't be around for a very long time.

It's basic story-telling 101. You use a third party to drive a romantic wedge in between the slow burn couple, only for them to come out even stronger on the other side. I've seen it happen hundreds of times on other TV-shows. This follows the exact same pattern.

It is what it is.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[lemon-russ]

Uhm so my understanding with that 'Burned out on Cato × Diplomat' post is that requests are open? May I request some post-nails Angron x Reader? Doesn't have to be smut, but I'd welcome it!

yes!! It isn't super long and no smut, but I liked this so much I might do more of it, I'm actually a big fan of 30k Angron :)

Eta: I keep forgetting tags woops: @undeaddream @scriberye @sleepyfan-blog

And thank you for divider as always @squishyowl

Angron x Gn!Reader

Word count: ~800

CW: It's Angron. There's blood.

Blood dripped down the walls, splattered across from the spray from the neck of the unfortunate serf that happened to have passed by The Red Angel at the wrong moment. He gnashed his teeth, grinding and cracking them before they healed themselves immediately anyways. The pain of the nails cracked through his skull again, but dulled slightly now that he'd turned a serf into paste in the halls of the Conqueror.

He whirled 180° at the sound of soft footsteps tapping against the metal plates, nostrils flaring and hand raising to use whoever dared approach the Lord of the Red Sands.

But upon seeing your soft, patient expression looking up at him with gentle eyes, he faltered. The only thing that seemed to even slightly interrupt the pain if his nails besides bloodshed and slaughter, was you. You and that gentle, unfaltering look you always gave him.

He lowered his arm, grinding his teeth again against the pain, and you gave him a small smile before approaching. You could read him well enough to know when it was safer to approach and when he needed space.

“Angron.” You say in that soothing tone. You never called him “my lord” or “primarch” or any of those ridiculous titles. He tried not to flinch, his muscles tensing in control as you stepped to his side. You pull out a cloth from your robes and pat at the blood splattering his arms with a featherlight touch, knowing too much contact would irritate his nails.

“You.” He gruffs. That's all he ever called you. Just, you. Never anything so pompous or fake as a pet name. And he honestly would forget your name in the middle of a wrack of pain or a blood fury. So it more often than not was simply, “You.”

“You are wandering alone again.” He growled, fists straining as he attempted to control his anger at your lack of self preservation. “You forget where you are.”

Like always, you didn't react in anyway but with gentle, unwavering patience. “I heard screaming. I wanted to check on you. Would you like to walk with me?” You say with that soft tone that seemed to balm his psyche.

He simply grunts, the nails lashing against the numbing of his mind with another shock of pain. But you made it easier. More bearable. He lets you take his hand in both of yours, and mindlessly follows you as you lead him away from the pile of gore he made of the serf.

He blinks away some pained brain fog. “You… know better than… to walk alone around the ship.” He forced through grit teeth.

You make a gentle hum. “I wasn't very far from you.” You return simply.

He groaned, annoyance tinging the pain in his mind. “If one of my sons got a hold of you…” he growled, teeth creaking in his head as he ground them.

You softly pat his hand. “I know, but they did not. Shall we loop around?” You say, tugging his hand gently toward a new corridor. “Or shall we bathe for the night and head to bed?”

He shuddered, pain mingling with the other feelings you always stir. “Bed. Now.” He grunts, hand tightening around your tiny ones.

You giggle, the sound only rousing his blood more. “Not while you're covered in blood. Bath time it is. I got some nice herbs for soaking when we were on that last planet…” you say, and your babbling about scented leaves turns into a soft background noise as he watches your face while you talk. Soft. Gentle. Patient. Voice hypnotizingly calming, or as much as is possible for him. His.

He growled a soft noise, gripping your tiny hand with as much gentleness as he could muster. With you, blood was not the only thing that could sate his pain and rage. At least for a moment. With you, there were other things that helped.

You looked up at him curiously, and his mind dredged back to the moment. “What?” He grunted.

You giggled and blushed. “I asked, so you think it might be fun to combine a bath and our other activites?”

He processed slowly, mind trudging through the ever constant pain, but then he let out a deep, needy growl from his chest. “Yes.” He snarled. He scooped you up into his arm, no longer patient enough to wait for your tiny legs. You squeak and giggle, far too comfortable in the arms of 11 feet of muscle and rage.

He looks down at you as he hurried toward the quarters he had made for you. You. His.

Yes, there were other things that could soothe his nails, for a moment. And he thinks he might be able to rut himself into a somewhat restful sleep tonight.

[yuri-is-online]

Hello hello! Anon here. First of all, congratulations on getting accepted for your courses! Don't worry about trying to balance work and the blog, we will always be here waiting for you. Second of all, your whole Yutu AU has been really fascinating to look through. (Though that may be because of my bias toward Fire Emblem Awakening, as it was what got me into the series) Sorry for the incoming wall of text, but it's been giving me THOUGHTS.

So imagine this: whoever Yutu's dad is (I'll pick Azul for this example because I headcannon his English voice somewhere between Matt Mercer's Chrom and Olivert from The Legend of Heroes games) finds out who Yutu really is. You remember that cutscene after Chapter 13 in Awakening, with the Lucina reveal and Chrom has this: "You deserved better than a sword and a world full of troubles. I'm sorry."? Imagine Yutu hearing something like that: the acknowledgement of everything he's gone through, the pain of knowing his dad couldn't do anything and can't do anything more than offer words, and the reality that it might now be really possible to change the future? I imagine Azul breaking down after hearing all that because the last thing he wants to do is hurt Yuu or his son after everything he's been through. Oh goodness, the two of them both need hugs.

Second: did Crowley tip off the Magic Marshalls (because I think he would) and force Yuu to take the blame for his negligence (because he absolutely would)? Now imagine Yutu finding this out and telling his dad. Now his dad knows Crowley is a cheapskate who fobs his work onto everyone else without a second thought. And now he's responsible for having Yuu taken away and starting all this? Knowing the boys and how far they would go for Yuu I'd imagine they don't take that well. In other words, to slightly alter a quote from Regina in Once Upon A Time: "I guess killing a crow suddenly made the top of my to-do list."

Sorry for the wall of text but that's been rattling around in my head for a few days (so make of it all what you will). Hope you're doing well and looking forward to what's next!

-The anon who loves Riddle & Azul

AHHHHH (i feel like I always take forever to answer your asks I am sosososososososososo sorry, this one just drove me crazy in a good good way)

Listen fire emblem awakening was my entire personality for like all of middle school.  The only thing i wanted to talk about was chrobin.  I celebrated Morgan and Lucina's birthdays by drawing them. I think I still have a Cherche x Libra fan art thing I drew on some sheet of paper somewhere in my things because I was SO MAD that no one shipped them and I couldn't find fan art of them anywhere and I just oooooooooooh.  THE WAY CHROM GETS A NEW CRIT LINE ABOUT HOW ANYTHING CAN CHANGE AFTER THE REVEAL???? BECAUSE OF HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO KEEP THAT PROMISE AND GIVE LUCINA A BETTER WORLD???? i just cant be normal about them i am so sorry.  R+A annon I love you, I love you so much for this you made my entire month and possibly my year.  Awakening is also what got me into the series and made me so many friends I just love her so much.  She's an icon and I hope she gets remastered with Sumia either deleted or with a fucking personality.

I should probably sit down and actually write a timeline for myself of events, but since I am free to lean in to the fire emblem pacing, I want to say that monsters from Yutu's timeline start showing up (similar to how the Risen do in Awakening) in the past and stirring up trouble, which leads to an event where Yutu panics and forgets himself in his desperation to protect his dad.  The main way the future kids always proved themselves was by showing their mother's wedding ring, but Yutu doesn't have that so really it's just up to his dad to see someone who looks like him and Yuu blended together, supposedly from Yuu's world using magic and above all else crying out and driving up his own blot levels to protect him calling him dad. For Azul! Yutu it's especially painful, he feels like he already knows what his dad is going to say. That he's disappointed in him. That he has no idea how they could possibly be related. That he hopes in this future he turns out to be different. But that's not what happens.

Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

As for your second question, I did not really write Crowley like that no. It was more like he was the first person mysteriously arrested after the Magical Marshall's decided to finally do their job. I was writing it like they wanted to ship Yuu away to cover up for their own incompetence in preventing seven overblots instead of properly investigating what might have caused that. He's not completely innocent though, so yes. The boys do not take it well at all. And please do not apologize for sending in your thoughts, I am so so slow but I love hearing from you.

[jesterwriting]

Hello!! So excited to be mutuals!! I’m ngl I’m about to blog crawl your posts so if you see me in your fics 🌝 hehe no you don’t!!

I was hoping maybe you’d be interested in writing some Sanji comforting his partner after they’ve had a really bad day? 🥹💕 thank you so much for considering and I hope you have a lovely day!!

pairing: sanji x reader

contents: fluff, comfort, slight sensory distress, sanji gets flustered easily

word count: 1.1k words

note: HI OMG! so excited to be mutuals too <33 and to celebrate i hope you enjoy this little sanji morsel :3

playlist: sweet chamomile - ruth b

You’ve had bad days before, but this one took the cake.

First, you woke up late and your breakfast was cold. Not bad, could be worse, you could handle cold breakfast. Sure, your boyfriend would happily heat it up for you, but you didn’t want to bother him over something so trivial. You were an adult, you could handle a bit of congealed egg.

Then, you got rained on after you went into town to explore. It was sunny when you left, not a cloud in the sky, how were you supposed to know to bring an umbrella? In your hurry to get back to the ship, you tripped and fell right into a mud puddle, completely ruining your favorite outfit. All at once, everything was getting to be too much. No matter what you did, nothing seemed to go right. It was days like this that left you exhausted and crying into your pillow, desperate for some way to unleash the emotional maelstrom that had made its home inside of you.

Your mud encrusted shirt felt sticky against your skin and you fought the urge to shake. From rage or disgust, you weren’t sure, all you knew is you wanted to be clean. You hated the way the clumps of dirt weighed down your shirt against your shoulders, or the way the fabric clung to you uncomfortably. You loved this shirt, and now it was ruined. It would be hard to find a similar replacement, though you could always try to hand wash it yourself.

Yes. Right. You could always wash it. This wasn’t the end of the world. With a deep breath, you clenched your fists to ground yourself, and marched into your room to get a change of clothes. Once you were finally clean again, you hauled your dirty clothes into the laundry room. With a brush in one hand, your shirt in the other, you unleashed all of your rage at how the day had gone onto whatever flecks of dirt you could get your hands on.

“Take that!” You cackled, watching the soapy water turn brown. “Die by my hand you wretched stain.”

Too focused on your one-man war, you didn’t realize how much force you were putting into your motions until a loud ripping sound filled the small room, and you were left staring dumbly at what was now half of your shirt. Your favorite shirt. The one you’d had for years. Nothing in your wardrobe was both as comfy or as warm, and now, it was ruined. Forever.

You couldn’t help it. Fat tears plopped into the basin as your breathing hitched. You felt ridiculous crying over an article of clothing, but now that the waterworks began, you couldn’t stop them. Weeping, you threw the torn fabric into the basin and tried not to focus on how the water splashed onto your front, soaking yet another outfit. With your hands over your face, and your clothes stuck to your skin, you muffled your cries into your palms.

Hopefully no one would walk in on your little temper tantrum. That would make a horrible day only that much worse.

As if on cue, the door squeaked open and you were left frantically trying to wipe your cheeks dry. Before you could blink, Sanji was within your field of vision, concern drawing his curly eyebrows together. With your cheek cupped in his hand, his thumb drew gentle circles into your skin. The gesture was so comforting, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“Sweetheart, you’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Remembering what you’d been upset about, you gave an embarrassed jerk and tried to rub the redness from your eyes. “I’m just being stupid. It’s nothing.” When Sanji didn’t seem convinced, you gave him a watery smile. “Really, don’t worry so much, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“I’ll always worry when it comes to you, my love.” Instead of helping you to your feet, he sat down next to you, one leg outstretched, the other drawn up so he could rest his elbow on his knee. With his free arm, Sanji wrapped you into a side hug, tugging you closer to him until your head rested on his shoulder. You hummed and stared at his blush. Even the smallest acts of affection could make your boyfriend flush bright red. It was cute. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“It’s stupid,” You muttered.

“It obviously isn’t if you’re this upset,” Sanji countered, his fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve. You could tell he wanted a cigarette but would rather not smoke with you in such a small space. The second hand smoke would fill the room in seconds.

With a sigh, you gestured to the muddy basin, the remnants of your shirt sunk to the bottom. “Today has sucked.” Sanji hummed and nodded. You took that as your cue to continue, “I got rained on, fell in the mud, ripped my favorite shirt, and my breakfast was cold because I got up so late.”

“Why didn’t you come find me? I would have reheated your breakfast for you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to go bother you over something so trivial. I’m an adult, I can eat my cold food. It was just that… coupled with everything else.”

“Come here.” Without another word, Sanji wrapped you in a warm embrace, his chin settled on the top of your head. You buried your face into his shirt and inhaled his scent: cigarettes and spices. Gently, Sanji began running his hands through your hair, playing with a loose strand every so often. In his arms, it felt like every weight that made its home on your shoulders disappeared. You slumped into him, your own hands home between Sanji’s shoulder blades.

“I feel better, thank you.”

“I knew a hug would help you, my love.” Even with his voice rumbling against your ear, he sounded smug. You glanced up, noticing that he was blushing so deep, the redness disappeared underneath the collar of his dress shirt. When you snuggled into him, his flush only got darker. Smug indeed. You smirked to yourself, the heaviness in your heart replaced with a light, fluttery feeling.

“Can we stay like this for a little while longer,” You asked

“As long as you need,” Sanji replied.

The two of you remained, tied tightly together on the wet floor of the laundry room, for hours. It wasn’t until Luffy found the two of you, wondering when dinner was going to be ready, did Sanji untangle himself from you.

By then, you felt like the day wasn’t as bad as you thought.

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober Day 4- Sex Pollen

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!Corporalki!reader

Word count- 1.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), mutual pining, multiple orgasms, no use of y/n

Notes- Nikolai my beloved I can't believe I've never written anything for him before! What a way to start writing for him, huh lol?! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“Captain?” you knocked at the door to his quarters, “Is everything alright?” you called through the door as you tested the handle. Finding it unlocked, you slowly opened it and peeked inside, “Tamar wanted me to check on you.”

“Everything’s alright, love,” Nikolai quickly put himself together as you entered his room. He felt his brow dampen as it lined with sweat, and he adjusted his pants uncharacteristically awkwardly as he laid his eyes on you. He always found you attractive, but suddenly, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that barraged his mind.

“Nikolai,” you breathed his true name as you closed the door behind you, “I can feel your heart… It’s…” pounding erratically, beating faster than you had ever felt before, about to explode, “What happened?” you asked as you rushed over to him and looked him over. He was bright red and you saw the way beads of sweat dripped down his face. He looked like he had lost his composure as he covered his mouth, something you had never seen before.

“It’s… nothing…” he breathed heavily as he tried to hide the way his pants tightened between his legs.

Nikolai and the twins had just returned to the ship from an excursion. Everything went fine, until the Captain got separated from the others and didn’t seem himself when he returned. He refused to say anything, but every Corporalki could sense that something was off, including you. It worried you, but Nikolai didn’t want to worry you.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” you said sternly yet softly, “Now please, let me help you,” you reached out to try and touch his forehead to assess what was wrong.

But the moment the tips of your fingers made the briefest contact with his heated skin, Nikolai grabbed your wrist and looked at you with a fire behind his eyes that you had never seen before. He hissed your name as his hands trembled, “Leave,” his voice was strained as he fought against his own mind. If he gave in to whatever he had pulsing through his veins, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from ravaging you. And Nikolai could never forgive himself if he hurt you at all.

“Nikolai,” you whispered, “I’m not leaving you. Not when you’re like this.”

Nikolai let out a low groan that made your breath hitch in your throat. You felt his agony as his hand clenched tightly around your wrist. But there was something else that weighed heavily in your heart. You hated seeing him like this, helpless to do anything for him. And you would do anything for him. You had been hopefully in love with him from practically your first meeting, but you kept those feelings buried deep down. 

“Listen to me,” Nikolai strained as he hovered closer to you, “I don’t have time to explain,” he forced a half a smile, “And I wouldn’t want anything to come between us if I can’t stop myself right now… Especially before I got the chance to wine and dine you first.”

At that moment, you felt your own face heat up, “What?”

He cursed under his breath as his body shook, “I don’t know what happened out there, I can’t remember, but whatever it is, everything in me is screaming to fuck you senseless right now or else I feel like I’ll explode.” His memory was hazy, but in his time apart from the others, something must have attacked him and poisoned him with… something. It wasn’t like any other poison, though, nothing Nikolai knew of had effects like… this.

Your mouth dropped open as you processed the weight of his words and what they meant. You felt your own heart flutter in your chest as Nikolai’s gaze bore into your soul. You felt the fire behind his eyes and it lit your body aflame. You had wanted this… wanted him… for so long. But you never in your wildest dreams could have imagined this.

“Let me help,” your voice was so hushed you barely even heard your words. But, from the way Nikolai’s expression changed, you knew he heard you. Swallowing your nerves, you closed the small gap between your bodies and cupped his face, “You can use me.”

“Darling,” his voice didn’t even sound like him as he immediately grabbed you and yanked you so that your chest was flush with his. Then, Nikolai looked surprised, as if his body moved on his own at your words, “I couldn't…”

You whimpered as you felt his hard cock against your body, “You need to,” your own voice trembled, “I…” you sighed as you rested your forehead against his, “I can’t lose you,” your confession was a soft whisper, but it held all the emotions that you kept hidden from everyone, especially him.

In a flash, Nikolai’s lips were on yours in a heated kiss. He swallowed the moan you let out as his hands roamed over your body, ripping at your clothes with abandon as he did so. You clung to him and you heard his heartbeat through your ears; it sounded like the way your ears rang when you were too close to cannon fire. You heard the blood rushing through his veins at incredible speed… or was it your own pulse in your ears?

The room spun in a tizzy as you suddenly found yourself naked on Nikolai’s desk, your legs spread open on their own, as if you felt the effects of whatever infected him as well. But, it didn’t matter. All you could think about was the way he bared his own body before you. Quickly, Nikolai stripped himself of his own clothes, and cock springing free as if it guided his body towards yours the moment it was exposed.

You bit your lip and whimpered as he cupped you between your legs.

“Darling,” Nikolai’s voice was low as he fought to hold himself back momentarily, “Do not let me hurt you.”

Seeing the conviction in his eyes made your heart skip a beat and your inner muscles clenched around nothing, “I trust you,” was your reply. It wasn’t a lie, and you wouldn’t have offered yourself to him if you didn’t.

He groaned as he pumped his cock a few times and lined himself up with your entrance. Pausing only for a fraction of a moment, Nikolai met your eyes before he thrust himself into you.

You threw your head back and screamed as his cock stretched you out. Without any preparation, you felt the sting at first, but it quickly turned to pleasure as he rocked himself in and out of you at a fast and harsh pace. You moaned as you clung to him, and Nikolai wrapped his arms around you in response.

The moment he entered you, Nikolai felt an instant relief, but he knew it would take more than that to fully rid himself of whatever plagued him. He never wanted it to be like this with you. He wanted you, of course, he had since you first joined his crew. But Nikolai wanted to court you properly, to earn your love, your trust, your body. He wasn’t even sure you felt the same way about him that he had about you. But, from the moment he got hit with whatever it was, you were the only person on his mind. 

“Saints,” Nikolai murmured as he bit your shoulder to stifle his own moans, “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you at the same time his words left his mouth. Tears filled your eyes and emotions took over. All you could do was cling to him as he pounded into you. Moans filled the room as you felt your climax quickly approach.

“Nikolai… I’m…”

He just groaned as he picked up his pace until you came hard. Nikolai wanted to pull back and watch you cum, but at the same time he couldn’t break away from you even by an inch. Instead, he held you tightly as you gushed between your bodies and trembled in his arms.

“Darling…” he growled as he felt his own climax follow yours. And with just a few more pumps of his cock, he came deep inside you as he groaned your name and clutched you tightly. 

Relief washed over him like a cool rain on a hot summer day. Nikolai still felt the aftershocks of his orgasm, and his cock still remained hard inside you, but the urgency was gone. But, just as he was about to pull out of you, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You can keep going,” you whispered, feeling his hardness as well, “I’m ok.”

“But…”

“I trust you,” your voice was more firm as you pulled back enough to look in his eyes, “Do you trust me?”

“I do,” his reply came without hesitation.

The way you looked at him so sincerely made Nikolai’s cock twitch inside you, and before he knew it, he was thrusting in and out of you again. Your mouth dropped open in a loud moan, but he reeled forward and captured your lips with his one in another deep, heated kiss. As he locked lips with you, Nikolai felt his second climax quickly approach, and without pulling away once more, he came inside you.

You whimpered into his mouth as you felt Nikolai fill you up to the point where his cum dripped down your bodies, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was him.

Breaking away for air with a gasp, Nikolai finally got to look in your eyes as you were lost in pleasure. Lost in pleasure on his cock. Saints, you were beautiful like this. Once more, the need overtook him, and Nikolai pounded into you again until he came for the third time. But this time, he watched your every expression as you moaned and cried out his name.

Your eyes stayed shut as he continued to thrust into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over and over again until you couldn’t take it anymore. And just as Nikolai came for the third time, you did as well, crying out his name and clenching around his cock. This time was different though, for both of you. It felt less urgent, yet just as needy.

“Beautiful,” Nikolai murmured as he watched you fall apart in his arms.

With a gasp, your eyes shot open and your heart skipped a beat as you saw the expression of pure adoration on his face, “Nikolai,” you breathed as you cupped his face.

He gave you a weak smile as he mirrored your action, “I think I’m alright now,” he said softly as he slowly pulled out of you, “Thank you,” he hovered his lips over your, but stopped.

You had whined when he pulled out of you, but the disappointment quickly vanished when you felt his breath on your lips. Blinking your eyes open, you studied his face close up, closer than you ever had before. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now, Nikolai,” you quipped in a hushed, exhausted voice.

“I just…” he sighed, “I owe you.”

You smiled, “What about the wining and dining me then?” you asked with an amused huff.

That made Nikolai’s face light up, “I love it when you quote me,” his tone dropped as he finally kissed you, “And yes,” he murmured with a smirk.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

can't run away | vernon

summary: running is the only life you've ever known. running away from your home planet, running away from anyone that gets too close, running away from officials, running from other smugglers. it's not easy but it's better than the pain that comes with staying in place and definitely better than getting caught. everyone has heard of you but nobody actually knows you. the last thing you want is to take on a passenger, especially when that passenger is a robot from one of the most popular groups in the universe. why would you let him stay when nobody else ever has? pairing: ai!vernon x smuggler!afab!reader word count: 15.6k genre: sci-fi au, angst, fluff (?) warnings/content: vernon is an automaton, reader is a smuggler (across the galaxy), references to injury (when vernon escapes, to reader as well), questionable methods of finishing a job (reader), suggestions/implications of sex/hook-ups (reader x unnamed characters), questionable legality on the jobs, exploring emotions for automatons, fights, open/ambiguous ending rating: mature (this is SFW but i prefer only people 18+ interacting with my blog) a/n: thank you so much to @idyllic-ghost for this incredible collab and this banner. i don't think i would've written a sci-fi fic otherwise and it's been so much fun. check out all the other amazing fics here! also thank you to the loml @hot-soop for *volunteering* to read through this fic. you're an angel. finally, thank you to @strawberryya for letting me use your brain and your planet.

“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

“Chirron,” you call and wait for his hum to let you know he’s listening, “we have to go. Like 10 minutes ago.”

“Why don’t you try something helpful?” he shoots back at you. 

“The last time I got near the controls, you slapped my hands and shrieked,” you answer.

“I did not, it was not a shriek,” he hisses. He’s not really offended, it’s just how the two of you are. You’ve run hundreds of jobs together at this point and there’s nobody else you’d trust. And certainly nobody that’s better at getting your ship in the air and away from trouble. “And it was for a good reason. You’re a menace to society and to the controls, specifically.”

“Every button looks the same,” you huff.

“Will you just shut it for 2 seconds so I get us off this awful planet?” Chirron asks.

“Hey, this is my home planet!” you protest. You’re not sure why you’re distracting him like this when you want to leave just as badly as he does. Need to for the sake of your job.

“I swear to…” he says and stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just a minute, I’m begging you.”

There’s a retort about begging on the tip of your tongue, something you know will get under Chirron’s skin. Something you know better to say and are going to say anyway. Really, what’s the worst he could do? Except just as you’re about to say it, someone comes rushing in through the open door of your ship.

Chirron seems to register the newcomer, but says nothing. In fact, he goes back to working on one of the control panels that’s currently preventing you from leaving the planet. That leaves you to deal with this new person. Or…no, could he be an automaton? There’s something familiar about him that you can’t quite place. There’s also something that doesn’t scream human about him. Maybe the blue hair or the way he moves through expressions. He looks relieved now even though you’re a complete stranger. 

“Please, help me,” he rushes out, already moving from relief into something else. He reaches out to take your hands in his and you barely have time to register it. “I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.”

Your first instinct is to flatly tell him that you won’t help him, that you can’t. After all, you’re not exactly the type anyone looks to when they need help. A fact Chirron is always quick to point out. But, you also see that this could present an interesting opportunity for someone such as you. And maybe now you can make some begging jokes without getting your head bitten off.

“And just what are you willing to do?” you ask, arch an eyebrow as you watch the expressions cross his face. 

“Oh, well I can…you know, I could…” he sputters along and you laugh. 

Just as you’re about to take pity on him, you see a rush of guards coming through the spaceport. It’s the last thing you want to see. Your papers are solid and you’ve already made the very real excuse of needing to fix one of your systems before leaving the planet. Then again, you’ve had enough close calls for a lifetime and you’re not really looking to add another one to that list.

As you watch, the guards talk to some other people milling about in the spaceport. The man who rudely burst onto your ship seems to catch that you’re watching something and immediately ducks down. If you weren’t a little nervous about the guards coming aboard, it would be comical. He’s literally not even hiding behind anything.

“They lookin’ for you?” you ask quietly and clock the answer in his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

“I think so,” he says. 

You sigh and ignore Chirron looking back at you. “Back that way, there’s a door in the wall on your left. Nobody ever knows it’s a door, but run your hand on the wall, you’ll feel it.”

“What?” he asks.

“Go,” you hiss and walk towards the open door.

It’s perfecting timing, too, because two of the guards are approaching. One of them, thankfully, is one you’ve dealt with before. And it’s mostly been positive. At least you know he can’t seem to stay away when you breeze in and out of this part of the planet. With any luck, he’s in a good mood. 

“Thought that was your ship,” he says with a smirk, ignoring the look from the other guard. 

“Guilty,” you smile. “Always nice to see you, Kyun.”

“You two know each other?” the other guard asks skeptically. 

“Sure, she runs cargo,” Changkyun says. You can’t fully fight the smile because you know it means you’re safe after all. The two of you have spent enough time in his bed, post hook-up, for him to know that’s not the whole story.

“And I would be gone already because we’re behind schedule, but we had a little mechanical trouble,” you say, laying on the act a little thick. 

“Need a hand?” Changkyun offers. 

“We’re supposed to be asking about someone,” the other guard reminds him. 

“It’s fine, we’ve got it handled anyway,” you say and send Changkyun a flirty smile before turning to his partner. “Ask away.”

“Have you seen an automaton running through here? Blue hair, about this tall, wearing a plain white shirt,” he asks and you pretend to think for a second. 

“There’s been a lot of people coming through,” you offer apologetically. “I think I did see someone with bright hair rushing off in that direction. Could’ve been blue.”

“You’re sure about the hair color?” the other guard asks. 

“Not really, it happened fast. But it could’ve been blue,” you shrug and then look like you’ve realized something. “Wait, there isn’t a reward is there?”

“Last I heard, you were doing fine,” Changkyun says and you smile as his partner walks off to share your info with a group of guards. 

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” you say with a wink. 

“Make sure you come by next time you’re here,” Changkyun says with that look you’ve seen before. 

“I will, promise,” you say. 

“Have a safe flight!” he calls. He’s already heading off to join his partner. 

When he looks back, you wave. For good measure, you look over your shoulder like Chirron said something and nod. You’re closing the hatch with a last wave to Changkyun. Once you’ve also made sure the shields to protect anyone from seeing in are activated, you head back to find your new friend. 

“Seems like people are looking for you,” you say when you open the door.

You don’t bother waiting to see if he’s going to follow you when you walk back towards Chirron at the front of the ship. The blue haired man, who still hasn’t introduced himself, follows you instantly and then ducks when he sees the windshield in front of him.

“They can’t see you,” Chirron says in a bored voice. Mostly likely unimpressed by a decision you don’t actually remember making.

“You almost done?” you ask again.

“Yes, actually, that little disruption got you to leave me alone long enough to fix it,” he says with a glare at you. “Now be quiet again.”

“So rude,” you say quietly without any bite.

“Control, Vega Three requesting clearance for take off,” Chirron states over the communication system.

“Clearance granted,” comes an immediate response. 

“Finally,” you say and take your seat next to Chirron. You twist over your shoulder to look at your unexpected guest. “I’d buckle in if I were you, sweetheart.” 

“Are you…are we taking off?” he asks, seemingly unable to sit still.

“Unless you had a different idea when you tried to sneak onto a ship,” you respond. 

“But you don’t…” he begins.

“You’ve got your reasons for wanting to get off this planet, and we’ve got ours, best to discuss those once we’re actually off the planet. So, strap in,” you instruct.

The stranger in question doesn’t need to be told a third time, thankfully. He slides into the seat behind Chirron and buckles himself in. With a sideways glance at you to confirm he’s clear, Chirron uses the recently repaired controls to get you going and safely off this planet. Even though it’s your home planet, and you definitely can linger, this job is a little sensitive. You really can’t afford to be late on the delivery, though your reputation with this buyer is spotless. It only stays spotless as long as you finish your jobs as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

If you expect the stranger to say something as Chirron navigates you out of the spaceport and into the air, you’re left wanting. When you look back, you find him relaxed back into the chair. It’s like he’s completely at ease. Or maybe just feeling a lot of relief that you let him stay on board. Or even relief that you lied to the guards. Something you do often, though he doesn’t know that. His eyes close as Chirron types in the course to autopilot until you get close to your destination. 

While the stranger rests, something kind of surprising to you given that he doesn’t know you at all, you briefly wonder if it’s sleep or just a sort of recharging. Chirron claims your attention and you quietly discuss your plans for once you get to your destination. Salax is known for…discretion. People don’t tend to ask that many questions there because of the types of humans and aliens alike that follow their desires there. But, since it’s a place for your deepest desires, people are also wary of suspicious behavior. You’ve spent plenty of time there, both for your own pleasure or, like now, for a job. 

The downside to this planet, though? It’s the type of place no robot would ever be seen. Certainly not a Level 1. They’re far too pure for that. And judging by the number of guards employed, and the fact that you were on Earth, you’re willing to bet your new passenger is a Level 1. So that’s going to add its own unique set of challenges. Something that has you buzzing with adrenaline, but has Chirron looking sterner than usual. 

“We need to know who he is,” Chirron repeats quietly.

“And we will,” you answer easily.

“If he’s a Level 1…” Chirron starts before trailing off.

“What? You’ll turn me over for the reward you asked about?” the stranger asks. You’re a little startled because you didn’t realize he had woken up. Or stopped resting, whatever.

Chirron scoffs as he takes in your amusement. “No.”

“It’s not a ridiculous question,” he insists.

“It is if you know her,” Chirron says and nods in your direction. 

“Why? You’re wondering if I’m a Level 1 so you know how high the reward is,” he insists and you finally take pity on him.

“No, I have no intention to collect some reward for you, if one even exists,” you confirm. 

“But why?” he asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat like he can’t sit still. It’s interesting to see when he was resting so peacefully without moving.

“Because,” Chirron interjects, clearly intent to take away any fun, “she prefers not to deal in things as meaningless as currency or credits.” 

“How do you live?” he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his face. 

“I’ve got enough credits to keep us going for years,” you answer vaguely.

“What else is there to work for?” the stranger wonders. 

You turn your seat fully so it’s facing him and lean forward, dropping your voice a little. “So many things, sweetheart. Favors, information, gossip…secrets.” 

His eyes go wide, like it’s something he’s never considered before. And he probably hasn’t. If he’s a Level 1, and you’d bet your ship that he is at this point, then this is so wildly out of normality for him. The Level 1s are pristine, like the celebrities of the galaxy living in luxury with someone to help keep them functioning at the highest levels. They’ll never see the types of jobs that Level 3s see, those jobs that nobody else wants to do. They’ll never work the way that Level 2s do, or have to work for humans in that way. Which isn’t to say their lives are perfect. It’s just not the kind of life where they see the dirty types of jobs that you and Chirron are used to. 

“Why don’t you give me a name, sweetheart? Unless you prefer the pet name, which is fine by me,” you say.

He hesitates, before saying, “Vernon.”

You and Chirron look at each other, like you’re both wondering why this automaton seems familiar and why everyone is looking for him.

“Well, V3RN0N actually, from 53V3NT33N,” Vernon adds.

And that makes everything fall into place. Not that you pay much attention to groups of performers like that, it’s kind of hard when you’re constantly on the move, but everyone in the galaxy knows them. Everyone in the galaxy also knows that the members just…disappeared. There isn’t much information, at least not from reputable sources, about what happened. Thankfully for you, you don’t really deal in reputable sources. So you’ve heard your fair share about the escapes, each tale sounding a little wilder than the last. You at least know someone is desperate to find all 13 of the automatons, given how popular the group is. Or maybe it’s because they’ve resorted to asking in places they’d normally never be caught to find information.

When you assure Vernon that your previous statement still stands, that you’re far more interested in your form of currency than any reward you’d get from turning him in, he relaxes a bit again. He’s worried, still, that he admitted to complete strangers who he really is, but you give him your real names. You tell him what you actually do, despite Chirron’s protests. That’s when he starts telling you all about the escape. The way that he got away, the way he doesn’t know what happened to his other members, the way he hopes they’re all okay too. 

It’s a little depressing and a lot too close to home for you to hear what life was actually like for Vernon and the other Automatons in his group. Not that you’ve ever been famous or had people across the galaxy expecting you to perform, but you know a thing or two about someone else making your decisions. Chirron knows it too, knows your story intimately, so he probably also sees where this is going before you do. 

It’s difficult, you think, to listen to Vernon talk about his experiences and why he chose to run. Humans and aliens had worked together to create these new beings. Perfected them until they were indistinguishable from humans and even gave them emotions. Yet beings like Vernon and his group are expected to just perform. To essentially serve at the wishes of the public for entertainment value. Have to uphold the highest standards and can’t ever do something that would look bad. Have to remain pure, whatever that means. 

From there, you come up with a plan. One that will at least give you time to come up with some next steps on Salax. Vernon is restless again when you share your destination. Of course he’s never been there, but he knows all about it. It’s hard to tell if he’s just nervous that he’ll look out of place or if he’s curious about what actually happens there. In either case, you need to make sure he’s prepared for the stop. There isn’t much choice anyway, you’re on a schedule and he’s just an unexpected passenger. Before he can continue protesting, you send him to the back of the ship to look through the clothes and accessories. Anything to hide who he is.

“He’s not you, you know,” Chirron offers.

“I know that,” you answer.

“Do you?” From anyone else, the question might sound accusatory. From Chirron, it only sounds concerned. 

You sigh. “I do, but what they put him through is awful.”

“He’s an Automaton,” Chirron reminds you.

“I’m well aware,” you say with a slight snap to your words. “You heard him, though. And you’ve seen the Automatons we’ve come across. It’s different.”

“Does he know what you’re going to tell them when we get to Salax?” Chirron asks, switching tactics. 

“Do you?” you ask back.

“An overly sheltered Automaton on Salax?” Chirron raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re going to bring him along as your ‘date’ who’s just testing the waters to see if it’s his thing.”

“I am not that predictable,” you retort. But you don’t disagree because you can’t.

“What else would you say?” Chirron asks.

“I don’t know, I just hope it works,” you say.

“Luckily for him, you’re a frequent visitor,” Chirron says with a shrug.

You decide to let that comment lie. Partly because you don’t want to argue with Chirron too loudly and draw Vernon’s attention. Partly because he’s not entirely wrong. You do like to spend time on Salax, looking for things that you can’t find when you’re constantly on the move. Looking for people that don’t expect you to be there when they need you. That’s something you can’t do. Chirron would ask ‘can’t or won’t’, but the difference hardly matters.

After another minute you go and check on Vernon because you really do need to get going. For a number of reasons. He’s dressed and looking like he’ll at least moderately fit in at the club you’re taking him to. It’s clear he still wants to stay on the ship, or to go with Chirron, but you remind him that won’t work. Chirron is leaving the ship to get supplies for after your errands and to make sure you’re ready to leave the planet. Even without Vernon, you don’t want to linger. Not this time. Going with Chirron to run errands would be even more suspicious. He so rarely has anyone around when he’s anywhere, let alone Salax. He keeps to himself so the appearance of a beautiful stranger would be out of character. No, it’s much easier to have Vernon with you. You’re much more likely to have someone around on this planet. And you’re certainly had enough beautiful strangers with you on Salax to blend in. You ignore the way Vernon reacts each time you call him beautiful because, really, it’s just a fact.

Vernon tags along a half step behind you when you leave the ship. You’re considering telling him to walk beside you when you think you might as well sell it. If you’re going to be telling people that he’s your pet, just someone you picked up for the time being, then it makes sense that he wouldn’t walk quite beside you. 

This club is so familiar to you. Once you’re inside, you make your way to one of the back rooms, the same room you always meet your client in every time she hires you. Nobody asks questions as it is, but certainly not of her when she books private rooms. You know she’ll be seeing someone else before or after you. Or both, knowing her. 

Thankfully, Vernon keeps his head down like you told him to while you’re winding your way through. You offer the occasional smile or nod as you see people that you know, people you’ve worked with professionally and people you know personally. Some look at your companion, but nobody says anything. Both you and Chirron were right. Though this puts Vernon in contact with more people, it’s far less conspicuous. Besides, with his hat and clothing, nobody would guess he was a Level 1. 

Circe is waiting in her back room, sprawled out on her lounger when you enter, surprisingly alone. Then again, she probably got word when you landed and then again when you entered the club. As usual, she looks completely stunning in her figure hugging outfit. It’s enough to send anyone’s mind into overdrive.

“My, my, darling,” she says as she takes in both you and your companion. “I would scold you for keeping me waiting, but you’ve brought company.”

“You know I’d never dream of keeping you waiting,” you say with a smile at her. “We were…held up a bit. Had some ship trouble.”

“And picked up a new toy,” she comments. “Please, sit.”

“Ah yes, well he’s…curious about expanding his horizons,” you say with a glance at him. The two of you sit in front of her.

“Maybe we can share,” Circe offers and you chuckle.

“Circe, love, he’s nowhere near ready for that,” you answer.

“Always keeping your prettiest toys from me,” Circe pouts.

“Now you know that’s not true,” you chastise. “The last time I was here for fun rather than work…”

“Was very fun, that’s true,” Circe concedes. “Should I assume you’re not staying around this time, then?”

“I’m afraid not,” you say and inject as much sincerity as you can.

“Would that happen to be because he’s one of those escaped Automatons?” Circe plays it off like idle curiosity and you only smile fondly.

“If he were, what kind of fool would I be to bring him here?” you wonder.

“The kind that does trust me despite your insistence that you trust nobody other than yourself and Chirron,” she answers without missing a beat.

“Well,” you shrug.

“I thought…” Vernon says quietly to you.

“Relax, whoever you are is no concern of mine. She knows I won’t blow your secret because I know that there’s nobody better in the galaxy than her at what she does,” Circe says softly.

“You flatter me,” you say. This time the sincerity comes in earnest.

Circe waves it off like it’s nothing. You also know she means what she said. “I assume you have what I sent you off for?”

“Of course,” you respond and reach into your bag.

“This is why I protect her,” Circe says, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret with Vernon. “I’ve never met anyone that can do a sensitive job for me like she can.”

“And have you met a lot of people?” Vernon asks.

Circe’s eyes sparkle. “You may be one of the only ones who can understand when I say thousands, probably.”

You watch the interaction for a moment because it’s so mundane, so simple. Shaking your head to clear the scene, you hand over a small device. Circe takes it and examines it for a second, looking over the markings on the side. Her smile is almost instant.

“This looks full,” she comments.

“It is,” you answer.

“How sensitive is the material?” Circe asks. 

You hesitate and look over at Vernon. “I wouldn’t watch it with just anyone. There’s…well I don’t have to tell you that people get more honest when they’re in compromising situations.” 

This seems to amuse Circe as she watches you form your words. It’s different from how you usually are and it’s entertaining. “Are you in it?” 

“No,” you answer with a little laugh. “Someone owed me a very big favor. Well owes me several favors, actually. He’s not off the hook yet.”

“I’ve known you for years and I still don’t think I understand the extent of your network,” Circe observes. 

“Probably not,” you acknowledge.

“And what about you, my little mystery, what do you owe her?” Circe asks Vernon.

“I’m…” he starts, looks over at you for guidance. “I’m not sure yet.” 

“That’s dangerous,” Circe adds. 

“We haven’t really figured…” Vernon begins, still very nervous. “She got me off Earth.”

“That’s actually part of what I needed to talk to you about. I need to get him an introduction to someone,” you say. Circe’s eyes turn back to you.

“To whom, darling?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “I need a recommendation. Someone that you trust that can help him disappear. Help him reappear as someone new.” 

Circe regards the pair of you for a moment. Probably a moment too long for Vernon’s comfort. “I can’t help you.”

Your frustration gets the better of you before you even consider the why. “Can’t or won’t?” 

“Pumpkin,” Circe says, full of affection and patience that you’re not sure you deserve. “I know the kind of favors you’re offering for something like this. I’d be stupid to turn it down if I could help you, but unfortunately I like you too much to pull the wool over on you.”

“Why can’t you help?” This, at least, comes out calm.

“I’m not sure where to turn, not now at least. There are too many people looking for him,” Circe admits.

You sigh heavily at that. In the seven years that you’ve known Circe, this is a first. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented her with a problem that she couldn’t solve. It leaves you feeling a little helpless, a feeling that you really don’t enjoy. Maybe she takes a little bit of pity on you because she does tell you to see one of her workers before you leave. He can help Vernon look a little different, at least. That’s all she can do, though, and she knows she’s still going to owe you after this. 

So you’re going to have to take Vernon with you, at least for now. You feel some amount of responsibility, even though he jumped onto your ship. But he’s far too sheltered for this life, too innocent, too naive. He isn’t hard around the edges like you, doesn’t know that he can’t trust anyone, hasn’t been hurt by people he depended on. 

You finish up the conversation with Circe and say your goodbyes. It completely slips your notice that Vernon isn’t right behind you when you head out the door.

“Wait a moment,” Circe says, lightly grabbing Vernon’s arm.

He looks down at the place her hand touches his arm before meeting her eyes again. The confusion on his face must be clear.

“Be careful with her,” Circe says. Vernon’s eyebrows only knit further in confusion. “I love her dearly, but it always comes at a price. She’s the kind of girl you’d name one of those hurricanes after back on Earth.”

“I’m not sure…” Vernon tries to begin. Circe waves a hand to quiet him.

“She’s wild and wonderful,” Circe says with a soft smile that only lingers a second. “But she will destroy everything in her path.”

Vernon is about to say something when you pop your head back through the door. “There you are, come on. We should really get going.”

Vernon looks back at Circe, tries to make some kind of sense of what she said. It’s pointless, though, and instead he just follows you out without a word.

If Vernon is expecting you to head straight back to the ship, he’s mistaken. You wind through the hallways like you’ve been through a hundred times before. Which is entirely possible, it’s not like Vernon knows much about you or your history. He just knows he couldn’t navigate back out if he got lost, so he stays close. It’s not that has a bad memory, it’s just that his brain is currently on overdrive. He’s thinking about what Circe said about you. But he’s also just taking in all the things he never even knew existed.

It doesn’t seem like you’re heading anywhere, even when you stop. The room is empty except for a large desk in the center. Vernon wants to ask what it is you’re doing. One look at your face tells him not to. You quickly reach into one of the drawers, like it’s the most normal thing, and pull out another device that looks like the one you gave to Circe. You stow the device in a pocket that Vernon hadn’t even noticed and make your way back out without another word.

In fact, you don’t speak again until you’re back on the ship. Vernon has a second to note that Chirron is missing before you head to the control panel and start pressing buttons. The door closes and something seems to shift with the windshields. It’s like the ship is going into some sort of shut down. You walk back past Vernon to a table and slide into one side of the booth. Vernon takes the cue and slides in across from you.

“So that didn’t exactly go as planned,” you observe. 

“You were expecting her to help,” Vernon says and you nod. 

“Circe knows everyone, has eyes and ears everywhere, so it’s…well I don’t want to scare you, but it’s concerning that she can’t help hide you,” you say.

“Maybe I should just go back,” Vernon wonders out loud.

“Look, you ran away for a reason and I know the kind of desperation it takes to just…run onto some random ship,” you let him know. “I’m not really sure why I’m helping, but I’m going to help. There’s just one rule.”

“What is it?” Vernon asks. He already knows he’s going to agree.

“Whatever I say, you have to follow,” you say. It sounds so simple, Vernon is sure there’s some kind of catch when you continue. “If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. If I say leave me behind, you have to.”

“But…” Vernon starts and you shake your head.

“I’m going to try to find a solution, but I have to keep working too. And this isn’t exactly a safe line of work,” you tell him.

“I’d gathered,” he says before he can stop himself. You chuckle.

“At least you’re observant,” you say.

Since Chirron isn’t back yet, you send off a quick message to him that you’re going off the ship for one more quick stop. That you’ll be back within the hour and ready to go if he is. With that out of the way, you take Vernon to see Circe’s friend about blending in a little better. You’re just hoping that this isn’t going to be a waste. And also hoping that nobody recognizes him in the meantime because the last thing you need is for your name to be plastered next to his.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Two hours later, you’re all back on the ship and taking off. With a quick message to Circe, you thank her and request that she keep you updated if she hears anything interesting. Thankfully, she seems to know what that means and there’s nobody better to keep an eye out. Vernon looks different, too. His hair is a different color and style, his eyes are no longer the same shade, his clothing is entirely different, even some of the shape of his face is different. Despite his protests, you also got him a face mask and sunglasses to wear. Although he thinks that it’ll make him stand out, you insist that in your line of work, it’s standard.

Although you know you need to talk, you tell Vernon that it’s time for you all to get at least a little sleep. Chirron put it on the slow track to allow everyone a chance to rest before getting to their next stop. It’s standard practice for the two of you, but entirely foreign to Vernon. 

Once you wake up again, it’s time to talk. “We need a story.” 

You, Chirron, and Vernon are sitting at the table in the main part of the ship. The ship itself is on autopilot to your next stop, which Chirron says will take at least 3 more hours.

“Better late than never, I guess,” Chirron says.

“Would you stop being grumpy?” you fire back.

“No,” Chirron answers without hesitation.

“Uh, a story for what?” Vernon interrupts.

“Who you are and why we’ve let you join our missions.” Chirron gives the straightforward answer before you can be a smartass. 

“Does there need to be a story?” Vernon asks, causing Chirron to sigh.

“Yes, there does,” is all Chirron says.

You shoot him a look. “Our entire livelihood depends on us staying off the wrong radars, which we’ve been good at. But it also depends on our current…clients continuing to trust us. You’re new. And while our reputation is excellent, we tend to deal with a lot of people who value privacy and secrecy over everything.”

“So she can’t just tell them we’ve picked up a rogue celebrity on the run and just go with it,” Chirron says.

“Maybe I should just…” Vernon starts.

“What? Get off the ship and try to hide on your own?” you wonder. 

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Remember what I said when you got on the ship? The one rule is to do what I say?” Vernon nods at your question. “That’s still in effect, sweetheart.”

“So what’s the plan?” Chirron asks you.

“What are you good at? Besides singing and dancing?” You direct this question at Vernon.

“Rapping, not singing,” Vernon corrects quietly. “What?” you ask.

“I rapped, I didn’t sing,” Vernon tells you. “And I produced some of our tracks. In my free time, when I actually got it, I played a lot of games.” 

You’re looking at Vernon like he just handed you the easiest line and he doesn’t realize it. His head is down, he’s not confident about anything he said. But you know better. You know that he just handed you the perfect solution.

“You any good with tech, then?” You try to throw out the question casually. 

Chirron actually approaches a smile then. He knows where this is going and enjoys the way Vernon’s head pops up. It’s almost endearing the way his eyes go wide and he looks innocent again.

“Uh, yeah, I’m decent with it. I, well I used to try and practice any time I could get my hands on any tech. I had to use all the programs to produce the songs, so I got pretty good at it,” Vernon says.

“Chirron, I’d like you to meet our new tech specialist,” you announce and Chirron chuckles. 

“Bout time I didn’t have to stumble my way through reprogramming shit,” Chirron says.

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Look, I’ve got plenty of old tech on the ship that you can practice on. After the next job, we’d planned a break anyway. So, for real, I won’t pick up anything new…” you start to outline.

“Thank fuck,” Chirron whispers, silenced by your look.

“And we can lay low at our place while you figure out if you’re really our new tech guy,” you say. 

“Your place?” Vernon asks.

“Yeah, I mean we’re not always on the move,” you say with a shrug. 

“Okay, might as well try, I guess,” Vernon says.

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage.

Vernon shits in his seat and winces. It’s the first time that you’re actually looking at the way his body moves. You hadn’t even looked when he changed or when he had his appearance worked on, hadn’t checked for injuries or done any of that. You’re not used to having someone new around. For all yours and Chirron’s faults, both of you trust the other and know well enough to admit if you’ve been hurt. This new addition doesn’t.

He winces again and runs a hand over his chest, something he clearly hopes you don’t notice. You do, though. His eyes meet yours and he looks scared, like he’s still not sure if he can trust you. Like he’s still on edge with every move.

“Are you okay?” you ask, voice gentle so you don’t scare him.

“This is all a bit weird to get used to,” Vernon answers.

“That’s not what I meant,” you level. 

“It’s nothing,” he insists. 

“Vernon, if we’re all gonna be in this, then you have to tell us what’s going on,” you say with as much care as you can muster. Certainly more care than Chirron is used to.

“It’s not that bad, it could be a lot worse, it’s just…well it’s the communication device that I used to have. My manager, he had to stay behind, he’d been loosening it for weeks so it wasn’t as painful when it came out but I had to run before he could finish. And I almost got caught trying to have someone fix it for me,” Vernon says. 

“You’re going to need to let us see,” Chirron says. Vernon looks between the two of you before he lifts his shirt over his head. Beneath it, he’s wearing a bandage that wraps around his body. You lean forward to start unwinding the wrapping, needing to get a look. It’s weird, you think, to brush your fingers against his skin and have it feel so much like your own. Weirder still is seeing the partial hole leftover in his chest. You can see where some of the edges need to be smoothed and where he needs to keep it covered. Vernon doesn’t seem nervous under your touch, which reminds you that he’s not actually human, despite how much his upper body seems like he would be. 

“Chirron, can you go get me my toolkit?” you ask.

“What are you going to do?” Vernon asks suspiciously. 

“I’m going to do everything I can to make it more comfortable while we’re on the ship and then we can figure out next moves once we land,” you say.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Vernon protests and you just raise an eyebrow. 

Chirron reappears with a box and stifles a chuckle at the scene. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“How do you know what to do?” Vernon tries a different question.

“She worked as a Automaton mechanic for almost a year,” Chirron answers, taking your fun of torturing him away.

“I thought you were a criminal,” Vernon admits and this does make Chirron laugh. You join in. 

“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, I’ve lived a very full life,” you say and don’t offer any further explanations. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Back home, you get settled and suggest you all get some rest before you decide on next moves. You know that Vernon doesn’t actually sleep now, but you also know he has to recharge. Which is all sleep is anyway, so you send him off to his own area to recharge. Once you’re all awake again, Chirron helps you come up with a more permanent solution to the whole where Vernon’s communication device used to be. It’s painful, you know that it’s painful for him and you wish you could help. But you can’t. All you can do is help him through it and know that when you’re done, he shouldn’t be in pain anymore. He takes even longer to recharge after you’re done. When he emerges, though, he does feel a lot better and he’s incredibly thankful.

It’s been just over three weeks since Vernon ran onto your ship without looking back. Just about three weeks since you finished the last job after leaving Salax. Chirron has loved every minute of getting to take the break. In fact, you’ve gone entire days without seeing him while he takes time for himself. It’s one of the longer breaks you’ve taken and he’s actually enjoying it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t like to be still. Don’t like to be stationary. It gives you entirely too much time to think and to remember all the reasons you’re in this position now. For the first few days, you tried to give Vernon his space like Chirron. He had more tech and gadgets than he’d seen in his entire existence, which is good. It seemed like he was enjoying getting to work on them and learn as he went. Annoyingly, he took to it almost immediately.

But then he seemed to realize that you didn’t like to be left to your own devices. That you’re the opposite of Chirron and would probably never stop moving if you had the choice. So he asks if you would be willing to keep him company while he works through things, insists that he doesn’t need silence in order to work. Actually, he thinks that he’s gotten a good handle on it and it would be better having you around. Even though you look skeptical, you take him up on the offer. 

While Vernon works (and occasionally curses at something, using a swear word he learned from you), he asks about your life. Usually you keep all of that to yourself. It’s not really comfortable for you to share the parts of your past. But this isn’t a normal situation. Meeting someone like Vernon isn’t an everyday occurrence. So you find yourself telling him things that it took you months or years to tell Chirron without giving it a second thought. Everything just feels…easy. There’s no other word. Vernon has experienced things you couldn’t ever imagine, but he’s still so new at people and interactions. There’s no fear of judgment with him. It’s almost refreshing. 

Vernon listens intently as you talk about your childhood and how you got to where you are now. It’s hard for him to really imagine having parents like yours that loved you and cared for you. That’s not an experience or relationship he’s had, even as close as he is to his other members. When you start to talk about things getting harder, you pick up a communication device to start fidgeting with it. Something you may not even realize but Vernon has learned enough of human emotion to know you’re uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that you stop talking, just unused to talking about this part of your past. The emotion is clear on your face when you talk about losing your parents, even for Vernon to pick out. Although you insist they weren’t perfect, they were all you had and you were way too young to try and make it on your own. Yet that’s exactly what you had to do. Exactly what landed you here. 

It surprises Vernon when you’re equally as interested in hearing about his experiences up until this point. About how others interacted with him, about what his emotions are like, about just generally how he feels. Which catches him off guard. He can’t remember a time in his existence where someone has actually wanted to know how he was doing in that way. Sure, people cared that he was performing at the top level and there were plenty across the galaxy that claimed to care about him. But Vernon could not recall someone asking him how he felt about any of it like he had a choice to feel anything at all. Not until you, that is. 

So that made Vernon want to talk. He started at the easiest place to tell you about performing and about his members. Even with the space and distance from them, he thinks he did genuinely care for them, genuinely enjoy being around them. He realizes that he enjoyed the performing aspect of it too. What he found he didn’t enjoy was the control and the treatment behind the scenes. He was always a commodity, always expected to do as he was told. Never permitted to see other parts of the world, interact with others the way he might want to. None of his time was ever truly free, his every move was watched. It was fine, at the beginning of Vernon’s consciousness, to live that way. 

However, as Vernon became more aware of the universe around him, he began to feel that he was missing something. He wanted to see more, know more, experience more. It made him restless. Sure, he’s not human, or even alien, and he can’t bleed or die the way others can. But he was given consciousness, given the ability to think and move freely, the ability to form bonds with others, the ability to question. With that had come the thought of something more than he currently had. All of that had led him to this moment. 

It’s hard, hearing about the life Vernon led. But you can also see how talking about his feelings with someone that cares changes him. He’s able to sort through feelings that he never considered before. It’s really nice to be able to offer that to him, to be able to support him in such a human way. Whatever else is true about the Automatons, they clearly have enough consciousness that they deserve to be treated far differently. 

It also naturally flows into you sharing what work actually looks like for you and Chirron. And Vernon now that he’s joining the team. You outline the jobs you take, the types of clients you have, the methods that you use to get a job done. Vernon seems a little wide-eyed at some of the jobs you take or how you get them done. But that’s when you remind him that getting a job done by any means necessary is kind of your whole motto. He doesn’t have to worry, you’ll never put him or Chirron in a compromising situation and never ask either of them to do something they’re not comfortable with. If it’s something…compromising, you’ll always do that yourself or call in a favor from your network. Although Vernon doesn’t look like he likes the answer, he accepts it.

Neither you or Vernon notice the moment when your days shift. What started as the two of you going about your days separately before ending up chatting about something turned into being together throughout the day, not even really tracking the last time Chirron had been by. Although you assured Vernon it wasn’t really an issue, both you and Chirron wore bracelets with trackers in them so you’d always know where the other was. That’s a relief, because honestly Vernon likes this comfort between you and him. He does ask if he should get a bracelet too and you say that you’ll get him one as well. 

Finally, though, all good things must come to an end. You manage to call Chirron back so that you can move forward with your plan. Everyone is still looking for Vernon and his other members, but it seems that nobody has reported any sightings. At least not of Vernon. 

“Are you ready to move back out?” you ask Chirron over dinner.

“If we must,” he sighs. Then he turns to Vernon. “Though I should thank you, actually, she’s never stayed still for this long.”

“Not like she’s stayed still while we’ve been here,” Vernon offers. 

“Hey,” you protest. 

“You haven’t,” Vernon doubles down. He’s different now, much more comfortable pushing back against you like an equal rather than someone who just needs to be saved. 

“This is still unprecedented for her,” Chirron says. “I was sure we’d be back on a job within the first week.” 

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt. 

“Do you have a job lined up for us?” Chirron asks.

“Several, just deciding the right one. I’m going to reach out to Circe first, though, on the unsecured line just to plant the first seeds,” you say.

This is part of the plan. You trust Circe, despite your insistence that you don’t trust anyone, but you can never be too careful. So you have two ways to talk. One is the most secure, locked down communicator in the galaxy and it’s strictly for sensitive jobs or when you can’t drop in to see her in person. It’s how she’s been keeping you updated on any rumblings about Vernon. The other is for things that wouldn’t matter so much if someone else saw it. 

You: hey love, just wanted to let you know that we finally expanded the crew beyond chirron and myself Circe: about time, who’s the new addition? You: he goes by sol, caught the fucker trying to hack one of my comms and offered him a job on the spot Circe: only you Circe: so you finally have a tech specialist? You: looks like it Circe: well stop by the next time you’re in the area, first round’s on me

Vernon offered up that he was also called Hansol as an actual name. Though he preferred to keep going by Vernon, Sol would make for a good name to resurface under. Nobody would be able to put those two together, so it seemed safe while still ringing at least partly true. You taught him that the best cover stories or lies had a little bit of truth to them. It made it easier to navigate. 

Predictably, after reaching out to Circe, you got several more job requests. Each one came with a message that they’d heard about the new addition to your team and were looking forward to hiring you even more. Which is exactly what you wanted. Although the other two had initially been skeptical, they had come around. There was undeniable logic in the idea of Vernon hiding in almost plain sight. Nobody in their right mind would go looking for a missing Automaton on a ship of questionable legality that made frequent stops on a planet like Salax. Everything in his programming should have stopped that.

Which just leaves picking a job to start with, something you do all the time. Vernon can tell you’re a bit nervous, and he is too honestly, but it’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.

“I’m just gonna remind you before we head out,” you start, allowing Chirron to go ahead onto the ship, “you can leave any time you want. After the first two jobs, that is.” 

“But you’re still gonna be doing this, right?” Vernon asked.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly.

Vernon shrugs. “I’m with you then.” 

“Vern,” you caution. He only shakes his head.

“I wanna stick by you, you’re the first person that’s ever given a shit about me,” he says. 

That makes your heart skip a beat, which you don’t really have time to consider since you’re supposed to be taking off any minute now. In fact, if you don’t follow Vernon onto the ship, you’re sure that Chirron is going to come storming off to yell at you for holding them up. There are certain windows that you need to operate in. So you file the feeling away to be dealt with later, like so many other things in your life, and get on the ship. You still have a team to run. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Everything goes fine with Vernon on the team. At least for a while. That’s the good thing about the type of work you do. Nobody really asks that many questions about your team or your backgrounds or where you were before. Nobody really cares, honestly, when your reputation is spotless and you’ve never missed a job. Honestly, you think that this whole situation is pretty perfect. Even Chirron, ever the pessimist, seems satisfied. 

Which is why you don’t see the issue coming. You should, you know it’s your job to see every possible outcome and calculate the likelihood of success, but you don’t see this one. Don’t anticipate something going wrong because of Vernon nearly blowing your cover. Don’t even consider that he might have an issue now, when it’s been weeks, with your methods for getting something done. Don’t think that you have to remind him that the number one rule when it comes to jobs is by any means necessary. 

Yet that’s what happens. He turns remarkably human, even with the restlessness that you’ve come to expect, when the three of you are sitting with an unsuspecting mark. Another human that doesn’t realize you’re on a job rather than just enjoying some drinks on a night out. You’re getting ready to take the mark to a backroom so that you can get the information you need and Vernon seems like he wants to stop you. Actively tries to delay you, actually.

“Baby, it’s getting a little crowded in here, why don’t you go ahead and see about a room reservation,” you say, offering your most seductive smile. The mark hesitates for a moment, thrown off by Vernon’s last comments.

“I would hate to get in the way…” he begins and your hand is on his arm immediately.

“I assure you, you’re not,” you say with eyes only for him. “I promise, I’ll meet you at the desk in just a minute.”

“How can I say no to that?” he asks, enamored with you again. Like too many before him.

The second he’s out of earshot, Vernon exhales and opens his mouth to say something. You’re quick to plaster on the same smile. 

“Chirron, take him back to the ship and wait for me there,” you say quietly, making sure nobody can hear you and nobody realizes you’re unhappy.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Vernon starts.

“Not here,” you respond quickly, keeping the smile in place.

“Okay, but…” Vernon tries again, but Chirron is nudging him out of the booth.

“Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving,” he says without bothering to be quiet. He knows your moves well enough to play along.

“All you think about is food,” you jibe affectionately.

“Don’t take too long, we’ve still got work to do,” Chirron calls over his shoulder as he leads Vernon away.

You watch the two of them disappear into the crowd before you join the mark. Thankfully, he seems so taken by your flirting that he accepts your excuses of your friends being hungry. Everyone gets a little cranky, he sympathizes. The desk attendant offers you the key to one of the private rooms and you lead the way, feeling the mark following you without needing to check. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a little longer than normal and definitely longer than you’d like before you’re also headed back to the ship. This mark needed a little more foreplay before he was ready to spill the secrets that you need. Or maybe you’re a little off your game from the near issue that Vernon created. You know you’re good, you’ve done this enough times to know that you can be irresistible, but you don’t like unexpected interference. You definitely don’t ever expect that to come from your own team. And you don’t like having to resort to different plans, like you did tonight. Normally, you don’t take it that far. No matter. You got what you needed.

Once you’re heading back to the ship, you fire off a quick message to Chirron to ask if he’s got any food leftover on the ship. He knows it’s code. You’re asking if he actually went to get something to eat or if they went straight back to the ship. His answer comes immediately. They do have food, he lists off what the leftovers are, but you took too long and it might be cold. A suggestion to get your own food if you’re hungry. And also a suggestion to take an extra beat if you need it before you come back to the situation on the ship. So you take heed and pick up some food from your favorite stand before returning to the ship.

Both Chirron and Vernon are sitting in the booth as soon as you turn around from closing the hatch. Chirron looks tired, like he’s run an entire marathon in the time since you parted ways. Vernon looks restless, like he’s barely able to stay seated. Maybe that’s why Chirron looks so worn out.

“What the fuck, Vernon?” you ask as soon as you’re sitting down and setting out your food.

“What do you mean?” he asks as if it’s a completely unreasonable question.

“You nearly blew our cover!” you retort. 

“Because you were going to…you were taking him, you were going to…” he stutters out.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was going to fuck him,” you cut over him.

He blanches at the bluntness of your statement. Even after all the time he’s been around you, he’s still surprised. “Well that’s just…you shouldn’t have to do that.”

Your eyes flick to Chirron, as if you’re asking what he’s been doing the last two hours that you were indisposed. 

“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” Chirron says. Vernon glances between the two of you. It’s still foreign to him that you can communicate without using any words.

“No, I don’t,” Vernon agrees. 

“Well, you should,” you say flatly. “Chirron is just as much in charge as I am. Whatever he says, also goes.”

“Not when it comes to you doing…that,” Vernon says.

“No, that was my choice,” you agree. 

“And you shouldn’t have done it,” Vernon argues.

“According to who, Vern?” you ask. 

“You just shouldn’t have to…use your body like that,” he says and looks down. He’s embarrassed, but you’re not sure why.

“Sweetheart, you knew the game. I told you that jobs get done by whatever means necessary. I told you that I’d never ask you or Chirron to do what I did, but that if it came to it, I would do it,” you explain.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” he says quietly.

“So, what? You thought you’d come in like some Knight to protect my honor and risk blowing the job?” You’re a little incredulous at that.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t like the idea of you and that guy…” Vernon starts and stops. Chirron, thankfully on the edge of the booth, gets up then.

“We need some supplies before we leave here. I’ll go grab them,” he says and leaves before either you or Vernon can object. 

“What was the first rule, Vernon?” you ask when the silence gets too deafening.

“That we finish jobs by any means necessary, I know,” he huffs out.

“No, the real first rule. When I agreed to help you,” you prompt, voice soft. He finally looks up at you. He knows and doesn’t want to say. “That, no matter what, you had to listen to what I told you.”

“I know,” he answers like a defeated man.

“Then why didn’t you?” you press.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just…I knew you were about to go into that back room with that guy and I knew how far you’d be willing to go to get what we need and it just…it made me mad.”

“Mad?” you ask. “Why are you mad?” 

Vernon is frustrated, you recognize it immediately. Not because of what you did, or not entirely, at least. He’s frustrated because he’s feeling an emotion that he doesn’t understand and doesn’t know how to describe. This isn’t the first time you’ll have to walk him through sorting it out. But it is the first time you’re not sure if you can. You’re nervous about what he’s feeling and why.  Nervous about what he’s going to say. Nervous about what he’s actually feeling. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like not understanding how he’s feeling. “I just, I had this feeling in my stomach when you started making plans with that guy and I didn’t like it.”

“That’s understandable,” you offer.

“Is it?” His question comes quickly. “I wanted to, I don’t know, I wanted to tell him to get lost or just tell us what we needed to know but stop looking at you like you’re a meal. Or like you’re something to win. You’re not a thing, you’re a person.”

You’re relieved, mostly, because you think you can identify this emotion in a way that doesn’t complicate an already overly complicated situation. Your smile at him is soft, sofer than he’s seen on you since you left the break between jobs. Softer than you give to anyone on jobs and far more genuine. “Yeah, it is understandable. It just means you care, you’re protective over me.”

Vernon seems to consider this for a second like he’s not entirely sure that’s it. Seems to want to say something else. “I do care about you.”

“I know you do,” you say.

“I don’t like feeling like this, like I want to protect you and I know that I can’t,” he admits. 

“It’s tough,” you agree and then decide to admit something. “I feel that way about you, too.”

“You do?” Vernon looks hopeful, like you understand.

“Course I do,” you say easily. “I feel, I’m not sure, responsible for you, I guess. Like I threw you into this life without much choice and I worry that I’m putting you in more danger than when you ran onto the ship in the first place.”

“You’re not.” He’s quick to reassure you. “Life in the last month or two with you has been better than my entire existence up to meeting you.”

That shouldn’t warm your heart, shouldn’t make it beat irregularly, shouldn’t make you feel something more than just the care you mentioned. It does, though. It’s making you feel a lot of things that you really don’t need to be feeling.

In contrast, Vernon seems much lighter. It seems like he’s relieved by understanding the care he feels for you is normal and relieved he could let you know how good things have been since he met you. It doesn’t go deeper for him, at least not now. Not when you gave him a simple name for the emotion. You don’t think he realizes that you’re in your head about the entire conversation and what this means for the two of you going forward. You don’t think he realizes that there’s another emotional explanation for his reaction and you’re not going to tell him. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Vernon thinks about that conversation with you a lot over the next several weeks of missions. He thinks about how he felt watching you make plans to go somewhere private with a person that you called a mark. He thinks about the feelings that boiled up inside of him that he described as anger when they felt like much more. He thinks of the way you react to him almost ruining a mission and how you reacted to him after you got back. He tries not to think about what you did while he waited in too much silence on the ship with Chirron. 

He spends the most time thinking about what you didn’t say. Even though he’s not sure what it was, he knows there’s something. Your face can be really expressive when your guard is down, as it usually is around him and Chirron. Part of him wants to think he reacted the way he did only because he cares about you in the same way that Chirron does. That you’re a team, some kind of weird version of a family that protects each other. But then he remembers how you went quiet after he accepted, with relief, the idea that it was only caring about you. Too many times, he finds himself wanting to ask what you didn’t say.

The three of you all agree that he should stay on the ship more during those kinds of missions. There’s really no reason for you all to be off the ship, anyway. You’re usually the only one that interacts with people like that, the only one that seems comfortable putting yourself out there like that. Vernon hates that you feel like you have to take those jobs, hates that you’re willing to go to those lengths. Although you tell him a lot, he doesn’t know that you don’t mind that part of it. That you don’t see yourself as someone that forms actual romantic attachments, that sex is just sex for you. Just another part of life. 

It’s another mission where you think you may need to get close to a mark, another mission where you think you may need a back room without prying eyes. Whatever that means. This time, Chirron offers to stay on the ship with Vernon. He says it’s because there’s some things he needs to work on, but Vernon sees it for what it is. He doesn’t want to leave the newest team member alone. Chirron is much more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for.

“You know, I never asked you,” Chirron starts, causing Vernon to look up from the transponder he’s fiddling with. “What were you hoping for when you ran onto our ship?”

Vernon considers this for a moment. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet also feels like it was just yesterday. “I’m not sure. I think I just hoped that I could catch my breath long enough to figure out my next move.”

“Not join a team that takes on illegal jobs across the galaxy?” Chirron asks, that dry humor surfacing again.

“No,” Vernon agrees with a small chuckle.

“Why do you stay?” Chirron wonders.

“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon asks in response.

“No,” Chirron answers immediately. “No, having you around has been good for her. For both of us, really. I’m just curious about why you stay when you don’t have to. Is it just because you don’t have anywhere else to go?”

Vernon, thankfully, is used to Chirron’s way of speaking. So he knows there’s nothing malicious behind the question, only curiosity. 

“No, it’s not that. Not that I have some idea of where to go beyond that one sanctuary planet I’ve heard of,” Vernon says. “I like being around both of you. It feels like I belong? I haven’t felt like this before. It’s nice. Kind of like a feeling of being warm all over.”

“I’m glad,” Chirron says genuinely. 

“I don’t like this part though,” Vernon says and shifts in his seat again.

“The waiting?” Chirron wonders, but there’s something on his face that Vernon can’t place. Thankfully, he carries on. “Or the waiting when you know what she’s doing?” 

Vernon frowns at that. He’s still not sure he has the right name for this feeling. “Why does she put herself in positions like this?”

Chirron shrugs. “Don’t know. I’ve tried to tell her that some jobs aren’t worth it, but it’s like she has to prove something. To who, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t stop her, though,” Vernon observes.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees. 

“Why?” Vernon presses.

“Because, as you saw on that mission a few weeks ago when she sent us away, she’s going to do it anyway. I know the difference between when something is actually dangerous and when it’s just not what I would do. So I let her go unless it’s actually dangerous,” Chirron says. 

“It still doesn’t feel good,” Vernon admits. 

“No, because you care about her,” Chirron says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Of course I do, I care about both of you,” Vernon says. “You care about her too.”

“I do,” Chirron agrees and that look is back, “but not the same way as you do, I don’t think.”

“Are there multiple ways to care for someone?” Vernon asks. 

Chirron chuckles, a low, comforting sound. “Of course. There’s the way her and I care about each other, like family. Like someone that could drive you absolutely insane, but you still love them and you’d still be there for them in a friendly way.”

“And what’s the other way?” Vernon wonders.

“Caring about them like you have feelings for them. Like they’re the first one on your mind when you wake up or the last one on your mind before you go to sleep. Like you just want to be around them and feel a little empty when you’re not. Like you’re not entirely sure what you’d do if one day they just weren’t there anymore,” Chirron explains.

“Oh,” is all Vernon can say. 

“I don’t know how you feel, or how she feels, but it doesn’t seem like just the kind of caring like it is between her and I,” Chirron says. “I love her and I’d do anything to protect her, but I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Do I?” Vernon asks quietly.

“I don’t know, only you can figure that out,” Chirron says. 

Feelings are difficult, Vernon thinks as he contemplates Chirron’s explanation. Every time he thinks that he’s got a handle on them, something else comes up to throw him for a loop. His body almost relaxes to help the fact that his mind is going entirely too fast. Chirron, seeming to sense that he gave Vernon a lot to think about, goes back to what he was working on before the conversation. 

It’s easy to be around Chirron, something Vernon has known since the beginning. But now he realizes that it’s easy in an entirely different way than being around you. With Chirron, there’s a comfort and a familiarity and definitely a care. Just like he describes feeling about you. With you, it’s entirely different. Vernon finds himself wondering about your past, wanting to know every detail even though you’ve shared a lot. He wants to know what you think, especially when you go silent. What thoughts are you keeping to yourself and why don’t you want to share them? 

The worst, though, is easily the way Vernon feels when you’re off on your own like this. He’s not sure how to put it into words or how to even Chirron about it. Or if he even wants to ask Chirron about it. He just knows that he doesn’t like it, that it makes him feel unsteady and unfocused. That he makes mistakes on whatever he’s working on when he thinks of this aspect of the jobs. It’s like he wants to lash out at the marks or the clients that hire them in the first place. He wants to let these people know that you’re not actually interested in them. That it’s only for work. But is that true? 

“Chirron, can I ask you something?” Vernon finally asks.

“Sure,” Chirron says. He’s much more relaxed around Vernon, probably because he doesn’t try to rile Chirron up.

“I’ve got this feeling that I’m not sure about, it pops up when we’re on missions like these,” Vernon begins before outlining just how he feels when he thinks about what you’re doing.

Chirron is quiet, thoughtful as he listens, giving Vernon his full attention. He lets Vernon finish uninterrupted before he’s quiet for a second. “Well, it sounds like jealousy.”

“Jealous of who? Of her?” Vernon asks. He knows what jealousy is, just like every other emotion, because it’s simply knowledge of the existence of emotions. He doesn’t know how it feels though, not really. Like every other emotion, it’s something he’s had to learn as he goes.

“Of the people she’s with,” Chirron answers, amused.

“Why would I be jealous of them?” Vernon asks. 

“I can’t tell you the why, Vernon, you know that,” Chirron says without any hint of frustration. “I can just say what it sounds like. Which is that you’re jealous she’s behind closed doors with someone other than you.”

“You think I want…to do that, I don’t even know…I’m not sure how something like that would even work,” Vernon splutters, tripping over his words worse than he’s done in a while. 

Chirron takes pity on him and only gives him a sympathetic look. It allows Vernon to gather his thoughts before he says anything else. A blessing, actually, because a minute later, the door opens to allow you back onto the ship. You look a little like you’ve been up to something that Vernon doesn’t really want to consider. Like you tried to straighten yourself out again, but couldn’t quite get everything. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice the tension in the air and just immediately go to pull out something to eat. Life moves on for you like nothing else happened.

Thankfully, Vernon can pretend he’s working on reprogramming a communicator, something he needs to do for a job anyway, and stay back away from the cockpit of the ship. He also knows that you’ll eat up there with Chirron to talk about how things went. To talk through the finer details of the information you were able to extract. You don’t talk to Vernon about those details and he doesn’t stop to think about why. He’s just glad you don’t. Not that you go into explicit detail with Chirron. It’s just…well maybe Chirron is right. Maybe Vernon is jealous because he’s got deeper feelings for you. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It’s supposed to be easy. That’s what you say. You don’t take on jobs that would put the team at too much of a risk and you don’t ask them to do anything they don’t want to do. You haven’t even taken on a job recently where you’d have to leave Vernon and Chirron on the ship while you entertained a mark. This is an exception, you say, too good of a job to pass up given that it should be simple. So simple.

Vernon makes it back to the ship before Chirron does, which makes sense. All Vernon had to do was meet with one of your contacts to swap out some tech he’d been using. After all this time, Vernon isn’t entirely sure what Chirron does when he’s off the ship. He asked once and didn’t get a straight answer. You shrugged it off and said that Chirron does a lot of things, some of which you don’t even know or understand. When you didn’t seem concerned, Vernon let it go as well.

Once Chirron gets back, Vernon pays more attention to the feeling in his stomach since you agreed to this mission. Something just feels…off. Not right. He’s trying not to dwell too much on it because he’s very aware it might be, at least in part, due to his feelings for you. Feelings that he now very much recognizes are real. Whatever that means for him. He hates watching you walk away when he thinks about what you’ll be doing. And he agrees it’s best for him to stay on the ship rather than risk blowing the mission. 

Except…well now he’s actually getting worried. It’s been too long since you left the ship, longer than usual. Long enough that even Chirron doesn’t shoot Vernon down when he brings up his concern. Which only serves to concern Vernon more because Chirron is almost always level. Even now, only his eyes give anything away when Vernon mentions just how long it’s been since you left the ship. After several minutes of back and forth, Chirron agrees that it should be Vernon that leaves the ship to try and find anything out about you. As much as Chirron tries to stay in the shadows, he’s been working with you for years now and people automatically associate him with you. 

So Vernon enters the building, manages to figure out where you had gone without raising any suspicions. After all, your reputation for chasing after pleasure proceeds you. Something Vernon is cursing himself for even considering. The thought flies out as soon as he’s in the room and he sees you lying on the couch, covered in cuts and bruises, only half-dressed. He’s beside you in what feels like a second, checking to make sure he feels a pulse. But, up close he can hear your slightly labored breaths. It could be worse, he reminds himself, as he gets you dressed and wraps you up. He doesn’t want it to be obvious just how beaten up you are before he’s had time to think. Or to consider what you’d do in this situation. Everything in him shuts down apart from the need to get you out a back door and onto the ship as quickly as possible.

Back on the ship, Vernon collapses into the booth while Chirron takes over and takes you into the sleeping cabin. Thankfully, Chirron knows enough basic First Aid that he’ll be able to patch you up before taking you to see a professional. Someone that you and Chirron trust enough to take you there. But, for now, he’s cleaning your wounds and wrapping you up as best he can. Vernon knows he should be helping, knows that an extra set of hands would help. He just…can’t. Can’t seem to find the strength to see you in this condition. He’s just amazed he got you back to the ship without losing it or without anyone seeing you. And thankful, so very thankful, that Chirron is keeping it together. 

Without a word, Chirron emerges from the sleep cabin and heads straight for the front of the ship. Vernon’s barely even sat down in your usual seat before the ship takes off. Chirron doesn’t fly too high, he’s just going to a different part of the planet. That’s what he said when he said that you and him knew someone that could help. It both feels like an eternity and no time at all when the ship lands again. Vernon expects to help you off the ship. Instead, Chirron tells him to stay put, that he’ll be back. 

Doc, that’s what Chirron calls him, looks like a man that’s aged beyond his actual years. He looks like he’s seen more than most people would over several lifetimes. Yet, he seems kind. Seems like he could be anyone’s father or uncle. This time, Vernon does actually follow them back to the sleep cabin, careful to stay out of the way. Doc starts taking stock of you and attaching a number of devices to various parts of your body. They start beeping and it should calm Vernon, because at least something is happening. They don’t, though. All he can think is that you shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. This was the wrong job to take. 

Vernon’s learned a lot about emotions during the time with you and Chirron, a lot more than he learned in all his time before. He knows, now more than ever, that he cares about you far beyond just being friends. He knows that he’s never felt this kind of fear. Knows that he can’t be still, even for a second. It’s always been like this, Vernon has always suffered from restlessness. It’s a million times worse now. And it’s getting in the way of your care. Somewhere in his pacing and mumbling, something he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, Chirron sends him away. Doc gives him a sympathetic look, like he understands, before turning back to you. 

It’s not any easier to be outside of the sleep cabin because Vernon can still hear everything that’s happening. The entire ship is silent except for the work Doc is doing. Not seeing what’s happening is even worse and Vernon’s restlessness turns into something more like anxiety. He can’t imagine going on without you. Not that anyone has said that would be a possibility. In fact, Doc seems to think you’ll be fine in no time. Most of the injuries are merely surface level. Chirron comes back out with a list of things that they need and tells Vernon to go take care of it. It’ll help you and help him in the process. He’s not doing anyone any good in the state he’s in now. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a few days, but you’re mostly back to your normal self. The worst part, for you, is that you fractured one of your ribs. So that means rest, Doc’s orders. Vernon was happy to hear it because it meant that you had no choice but to take a break. Chirron seemed pleased as well, saying once Doc was off the ship, he’d take you back to the homebase. 

You, however, wake up back home and seem irritated. Remind both Vernon and Chirron that you still have a job to do. Can’t seem to wrap your head around your injuries or the severity of the situation. That’s the first time that Vernon sees Chirron raise his voice with you. It’s the first time he sees the usually calm force standing firm in his position. You’re on bedrest for now so that you can actually heal. Together, you can all figure out what to tell the client. But your health is most important or it’ll be a lot longer than a matter of weeks that you’re out of commission. 

Vernon doesn’t get to listen in on the conversation about what happened. It’s Chirron’s decision, saying that he thinks it’ll just be easier. So Vernon doesn’t know what happened, not really. Sure, he can guess and probably paint at least a picture. Does he really want to know, though? He’s not sure. He doesn’t want the details of just how you were going to get the information, so maybe it’s better like this. What he does need, though, is to talk to you. Chirron gives him that chance as soon as he can, which Vernon is thankful for.

“You look better,” Vernon says after a light knock on your door frame. 

You laugh lightly and Vernon worries for a second, but you seem fine. “Wow, you really know how to butter a girl up.”

“I was worried about you,” Vernon says as he crosses to sit in the chair next to your bed.

“It takes a lot more than that guy to take me down for real, sweetheart,” you offer. 

Vernon’s jaw clenches. “Still.” 

“Hey,” you say and reach out to take his hand. “I’m really okay. I’ve had worse than this, I promise.” 

“You think that makes me feel better?” Vernon wonders with a shake of his head. 

“This is a dangerous line of work,” you say.

“I’m aware of that,” Vernon answers. 

“What’s really on your mind? Chirron’s worried about you,” you admit. 

“We could have lost you,” Vernon says, barely more than a whisper. “I could have lost you.” 

“But you didn’t,” you say gently.

“But I could have and it’s like,” Vernon presses, pausing to think of the right word. “It’s like you don’t even care. Like it’s all a joke.”

“Of course I care, Nonie,” you say. Vernon tries, and fails, to stop his heart from skipping over the nickname that falls so easily from your lips. “This is the job, I know you and Chirron were worried about what was going to happen to me…”

“This isn’t about Chirron,” Vernon snaps and you pull your hand away from his. 

“What is it about?” you ask, guard up. 

“It’s about me almost losing you. About me feeling something that I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling and then worrying I’d lose you before I ever got to tell you,” Vernon says. 

“Vernon, I don’t think…” you start again, only to fall silent at whatever look you see in his eyes. 

“I know it sounds crazy, I know what I am,” Vernon says without meeting your gaze. “We were never supposed to be more than robots. I’ve heard it all. Nobody ever could have predicted that we’d get a consciousness. Nobody seems to know what that even means or what it is. I just know that I ran from the only other beings that I’ve ever known straight onto your ship. And I thought it’d be scary or I’d regret it, but I don’t. You taught me and guided me without making me feel less than. I was teetering on the edge of way too much…whatever this restlessness is. You were like a balm for that.” “I’m glad,” you say, voice just as quiet. “It’s easy to be around you, Vernon. I’m glad you feel at ease here.”

“I don’t understand how…feelings work or what they mean, not when it comes to what I feel for you,” Vernon says. He looks at you, so hopeful. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Vernon, I’m not…I don’t think I’m built for something like that,” you say, pleading for him to understand.

“You don’t care about me?” Vernon wonders.

“No, of course I do,” you disagree. “I just…I don’t know what I really feel either. I just know relationships, they’ve never been what I sought out. They get too complicated in this line of work where anything can happen.”

“So leave,” Vernon offers, like it’s so easy.

“Leave?” you question.

“Yes, quit doing this kind of work. Leave and start a new life away from all of this,” Vernon pleads.

“And what? Just abandon Chirron?” you ask angrily.

“Of course not,” Vernon retorts. “You and I both know that he only stays because you’re family to him. He doesn’t want to do this forever.”

“Is that what you and him talk about when I’m off the ship getting information?” You’re angry now, but Vernon thinks he’s a little annoyed too.

“No,” Vernon says. “The only time we’ve talked about you is when he helped me process what I was feeling. I just, it doesn’t take some kind of genius to see he stays because he cares about you.” 

“This is the only life I’ve ever known,” you say, anger subsiding to be replaced by you looking smaller than ever before.

“No it’s not,” Vernon disagrees. “You told me about your family.”

“Don’t bring them up,” you caution.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, surely you see that,” Vernon pleads again.

“If I say no, will you stay? Or are you asking me to choose between you and this entire network I’ve built over years?” As soon as you say it, Vernon knows he’s lost. Knows that you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m not asking you to choose anything,” Vernon says. “But I’m not going to continue to watch someone that I care this deeply about put herself in so much danger. So you don’t have to leave this life. I’m done, though.”

“What?” You look like you’ve been smacked.

“I’m done,” Vernon repeats. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t feel the way I do every time you leave the ship. I can’t keep wondering if I’m going to find you in an even worse position. So, I’m leaving. I’d love for you to come with me, but you’ve made your position clear.”

“So, that’s it?” you ask.

“That’s it,” Vernon confirms.

He leaves the room for long enough to say his goodbyes to Chirron, who doesn’t seem surprised that it’s going like this. He’s sad, for sure. Vernon knows what he said was true, Chirron would leave if he could, but he won’t leave you alone. The two of you are family and Vernon’s thankful that you’ll still have someone to depend on. 

There’s nothing left to say to you, nothing but all the things left unsaid. Things that he wishes he could say and things he knows you want to say. Things neither of you will say to the other. Which is fine. It has to be. Vernon has gotten a crash course in humanity, so he tries to squash down the disappointment when he says goodbye to Chirron and you don’t even bother trying to stop him. Barely registers Chirron asking where he’s going. Truthfully, he doesn’t have a plan, so he blurts out the first thing to come to mind. He’s heard of another planet, he thinks it’s called Lumen, that’s something of a sanctuary planet. He’s going to need time to get things together before he can depart. This isn’t something he’d really thought would happen. For the time being, he’s going to stay with another of your contacts that he’s worked closely with since joining the team. One of the only other beings that he trusts apart from you and Chirron.

Just like that, he’s out the door without a backward glance to see that you got as far as your door. Without seeing the way your face falls at him leaving. Without seeing the way Chirron shakes his head at the situation. But you don’t call out, don’t try to stop him. You just let him go like there aren’t any other options. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a couple weeks to arrange the transport (and Chirron helping Vernon out by sending credits and outstanding favors to cash in along without you knowing) to Lumen. He stays with a contact he met while working with you that knows someone named San. That’s where the idea of Lumen comes up. It seems like there’s a chance Vernon’s other members are there. And if Vernon has a chance to see them again, he has to take it. Even though he wants to see them all, he really hopes Seungcheol is there. If not for the leader, none of them would have been able to escape.

Vernon gets a last message to Chirron to let him know that he’s leaving in two days. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Vernon hopes that Chirron will share the message with you and maybe you’ll say goodbye. You don’t. Even though Vernon wants to be upset, and he is, he’s still thankful that Chirron helped in the first place. He knows that without that help, he wouldn’t be able to get on a ship to Lumen. 

The journey itself is uneventful. Vernon’s spent enough time on your ship to be used to the travel, but he’s still worried initially that something will go wrong. It’s got him a bit on edge, to say the least. Until he realizes that this isn’t one of your jobs, this is just a regularly scheduled trip to Lumen that the ship was taking anyway. The only difference is one extra passenger. It’s not until they approach the planet’s atmosphere that he starts to get nervous again. The crew agreed that Lumen seems to be a sanctuary planet, and that’s great. It’s just, well Vernon hasn’t really considered what to do when they land. 

The planet is beautiful, like what it seems like Earth looked like before, at least from pictures he’s seen. There’s so much life and color everywhere that immediately puts him at ease. He’s still skeptical, how could he not be? But there’s also a sense of immediate relief that washes over him. WIthout even realizing it, he thinks that this is home. At the dock, he inquires about a place to stay, hesitantly admits that he’s a level 1 automaton, and says he doesn’t have many credits to barter with. What he’s not prepared for is the smiles that form instantly. Someone tells him about a house that he might be interested in and gives him directions. 

It’s not long before he’s approaching the large house, far bigger than he’s expecting it to be. This is definitely too much for him to stay in when he’s not sure how he’s going to afford anything. It’s then that he notices someone working in a garden, tending to plants. They look up and smile the second they see Vernon. He can’t quite hear what they say when they turn to look over their shoulder.

And that’s when Vernon’s entire world shifts. The very one he’d been hoping to see comes out from behind the house and erupts into a smile. They’re both moving towards each other, neither quite believing the sight before their eyes. 

“Vernon?” he asks.

“Seungcheol,” Vernon says with so much affection for his leader. 

“Welcome home,” Seungcheol says and hugs him. 

Home. This can be home. Maybe it’ll all be okay. Maybe this is where Vernon was meant to end up all along and maybe working with you and Chirron had just been a stop along the way. 

i'm sorry for leaving it open like that at the end, but it's kind of what felt the most realistic for them. i hope you enjoyed it and check out all the amazing fics 💕

[kewpie-aisle]

𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 A lil drabble/ramble of a warm moment getting ready with your sweetie cutie baby Daichi

pairing: Sawamura Daichi x f!Reader genre: fluff, established relationship, playful banter

wc: 923 words

“Dai, have you seen my necklace?” The soft sound of footsteps can be heard down the hallway and within seconds your boyfriend is leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. Frame blocking out the doorway, his broad shoulders filling out the space. Mind wandering to the feeling of your hands running along the span of his back. Covering the expanse of muscle, the feel of your nails digging in lightly almost always eliciting a hiss from his sweet mou- “Earth to Y/N…hello?” Daichi’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. Eyebrow quirked, unaware of the inappropriate thoughts his mere presence sinks you into. He brings a hand up after seeing your nod of acknowledgement. “First of all, which necklace? Secondly, where are you going, dressed like that, ma’am?” “The necklace you got me for our anniversary, also don’t play with me. You know tonight is Tsumu’s birthday dinner, I’m still upset about you being called in for a shift last minute.” Picking back up your eyeshadow brush, diffusing out your smoky eye without a glance behind you. Daichi and you had been re-scheduling your calendars for a month to make sure you could both go to your friend’s dinner. Not just for the sake of friendship and a great party, but because the consequences of not making it were catastrophic. 

Missing a life event or party of Atsumu’s, as a close friend, was like a category ten natural disaster. The Miya twin took promises really seriously, and would make all his friends promise to be there for life events like this. When folks can’t make it or bail without ample warning, he took it so personally. The complaints were the least of everyone’s concerns, if you hurt him enough, Atsumu gets petty to even the score. 

One year, Shoyo overslept after a late flight home from Argentina, which normally was understandable. But this had been an impromptu trip right before Atsumu’s birthday. Shoyo had promised him that everything would be fine and he’d be back on time. But after coming home he ended up sleeping almost an entire day, missing everyone’s calls and Atsumu’s party. Atsumu had reassured Shoyo he wasn’t angry, but vengeance hid behind that sweet smile. One month later, Atsumu tweeted out that the Jackals wing spiker was doing a surprise meet & greet and dropped Shoyo’s location. Right as he was on a date with a certain international pretty boy setter. The memories of the blog and fan shipping warfare afterwards was enough to send a shudder through you. Your boyfriend walked away with a groan, already hearing Atsumu’s complaints in his head. “He’s such a baby…” he grumbles re-entering the bathroom, necklace in hand. “My question still stands, the emphasis was on “dressed like THIS. Looking this good for Atsumu? Babe please.” With a click the necklace is on, laying perfectly with the v neckline of your dress, the light catching the gold pendant every now and then. Daichi rests his hand on your shoulder, hands wrapping around your waist to look at you through the mirror. Instinctually leaning back into his chest as you put your brush down. Hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “who’s being the baby right now” you chuckle seeing the smallest pout on his face. Sawamura Daichi has always been everyone’s rock, whether it was his captain days in high school, group leader during college projects, or even the youngest senior ranking police officer in his prefecture. Daichi is a leading force to be reckoned with. But with you, he’s soft, playful, and sometimes needy; a vulnerability that you cherish being able to experience.

Face tucked into your neck, pressing soft kisses to the soft where your shoulder connects, you feel his hum of appreciation rumble through into your head. “As long as I’m your baby.”

“Always.” 

You gently tug at his hair to get him to look at you to make sure he knows it to his core. There shouldn’t be any doubt, not even in a moment of neediness. Not even in a moment of joking around. He looks up at you with a sheepish smile, unwrapping himself and taking your hand to press a small kiss to your fingers.

“You look beautiful as always. That’s much too big a gift for Atsumu, but I hope you have fun.” He thinks for a second before adding “just don’t have too much fun without me” elbowing you gently while stepping back to let you finish up your makeup. He watches as you wrap up the last touches, eyes meeting as you pucker a kiss through the mirror. The smile on his face enough to set off the butterflies in your stomach.  “Try to finish up your shift early if you can, I know it’s never that easy but try.” He follows you out the bathroom as you head to the front door to put on your shoes.

“Awww you going to miss me?” He hands you your handbag and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you close.

You lean up to kiss him and open the door, turn around and cup his face. “Not for me baby, but to escape the wrath of Tsumu. He’s been sending the group chat threats nonstop since this morning. And you still haven’t told him you got called into work”. Daichi’s smile drops in a second, face pale as a ghost. With a wink you close the door behind you, giggling as you hear a thud and loud groan from behind the door.

Please consider reblogging to support! Dividers by @cafekitsune

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

We Only Have Tonight - Goose

Pairing: Goose / Fem!Reader (eventually Wife!Reader)

Word Count: 2.6k

This work, all my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only!

MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Emotional Angst; Quick Marriages; Non-Descript and Implied Sexual Content; Suggestive Language; Long Distance Relationships; Use of "You," Reader is Referred to as 'Honey,' No Physical Description, No Y/N

Summary: You and Goose were just supposed to have a summer fling, not a fall wedding.

A.N. No Carole. She's having a wonderful life elsewhere.

Master List

It was just supposed to be a summer romance. A fling. He was a naval aviator stationed in town for an undetermined amount of time. You were an elementary school teacher wanting to live out your summer and break out of your shell a bit. It was just supposed to be a hookup here or there and maybe a drive-in make out session once a week.

But then he stayed the night and cooked you breakfast the next morning. But then you went to his volleyball game and the two of you went out for dinner afterwards. But then he took you out dancing and carried you into the hospital after you tweaked your ankle. But then you surprised him after work on his birthday with a cake and didn’t leave his side all night. 

But then he told you he loved you and you repeated it back a second later. And then the summer fling didn’t seem to just be a fling anymore. 

You started wearing Goose’s ridiculous Hawaiian shirts when you went to the beach together. He started coming over to your house directly after work. You started to write notes to him and slip them into his bag before he left the next morning. He started to fix up your house for you and told you that he’d buy you a nicer one some day. 

But when the fall breeze didn’t push Goose from your life, the Navy took over that role.

You returned to your home after a day at work, your dress splatter with a few paint splotches from your students, when you spotted Goose’s Bronco parked in front of your house. And sitting on the steps of your front porch, there Goose sat in his dress whites and with a solemn expression on his face. 

Slowly turning off your car, you stepped out of your vehicle and approached Goose tentatively, already knowing what he was going to tell you. Goose stood up from his seat and offered you that small reassuring smile that he did when he carried you into the hospital for your ankle. He was trying to put on a brave face for you but his eyes gave it all away.

“Hey, Goosie,” you greeted him, staring up at him through your eyelashes. Glancing down at the paper in his hands, you bit your lip as tears stung your eyes. “You got your orders?”

“We ship out tomorrow,” Goose replied quietly, looking like he had beat himself up about it for hours now. “I’m so sorry, Honey.” 

“It’s not your fault, Goosie. You were in the Navy long before you met me,” you stated, forcing a smile. “I knew that it would have to be temporary.” 

“Temporary?” Goose asked, looking offended. 

“Well, you’re leaving,” you replied, sniffling a bit. “And then you’ll move on, won’t you?” 

“Who the hell said anything about moving on?” Goose questioned, grabbing your hand in his own. “Honey, there’s no moving on from you. Not tomorrow. Not ever.” 

“Really?” you questioned, looking so surprised it physically made Goose’s chest ache. 

“Honey, there’s no other person in the world for me,” Goose stated, squeezing your hand with his own, rocking your hands back and forth. “Is there anyone else for you?”

“No!” you responded quickly, taking a step towards Goose. “No one.” 

“Good,” Goose replied with a smile, “because then this would have been really awkward.” 

“Goose, what are . . .” 

You trailed off as Goose, while still holding your left hand, slowly sunk down onto one knee. You stared, wide-eyed, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple white box. Popping it open, Goose showed you the ring inside. 

“I know that it’s not much and you deserve a bigger one, but—” 

“—I don’t care about the size of the ring!” you interjected, looking at Goose incredulously. 

“Then will you marry me?” Goose asked, causing you to laugh.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, you silly Goose,” you replied, urging him up to his feet again. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pulled him in for an emotional kiss. Goose held you close with one arm and briefly broke the kiss to slip the ring onto your finger, before pulling you in for another one. Peppering kisses all over your face, Goose smiled at you with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes.

“So, when did you want to get married?” he asked, holding you to his chest.  

“The courthouse is still open,” you pointed out, causing Goose’s eyes to widen. 

“You want to get married tonight?”

“Well, I don’t want to wait until you get back,” you replied, smiling proudly. 

“Have I ever mentioned that I love you?” 

“You could stand to do it more often,” you teased, accepting another kiss from Goose.

Quickly unlocking your house, you tugged Goose inside. Ripping through your closet, you pulled out the simple knee-length white dress and heels that you owned. They would have to work for tonight, but you were sure that Goose would marry you in anything. Changing quickly in front of your fiance, you giggled when you caught Goose’s expression. 

“Don’t worry, Handsome. I’ll be all yours once we sign the papers,” you assured him, pulling on your dress. 

“We’ll see if I can wait that long, Honey.” 

Goose zipped up your dress for you and the two of you hurried down to the Bronco. Driving through the streets of town, he pulled over at the local Navy bar and parked. You shot him a confused look, but Goose simply grinned in return.

“Let’s pick up our witness.” 

Goose grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd of the club. It was mostly naval officers preparing to ship out and the random civilians that they were hoping to spend their last night in town with. Goose kept a tight hold on your hand and at some points held you by your waist. He eventually spotted Maverick at the bar, flirting with a woman. 

“Mav!” Goose called, causing his pilot to turn around. 

“Hey, Goose, about time you—” 

“—We’re getting married,” Goose interjected, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm protectively around you. “But we need a witness.” 

“What the—you’re getting married!?” Maverick shouted, startling the woman beside him. “Holy shit! Congratulations!” 

“Thank you! But we’re pressed for time, Mav, so let’s go,” Goose urged, gesturing for the door.

“We’re so sorry,” you apologized to the woman that Maverick had been flirting with. 

“I get it. Congratulations,” she mumbled before walking off. 

“Do you even have rings?” Maverick asked, already pushing Goose towards the door. 

“Shit!” Goose exclaimed, causing you to laugh. 

“You bought me an engagement ring, but you didn’t think to buy wedding rings?”

“I didn’t know if you were going to say ‘yes,’ Honey!” 

“Alright, alright, get to the courthouse. I’ll figure something out,” Maverick asserted as the three of you stepped outside of the club. “What’s your ring size?”

“Here, use this for me,” Goose replied, pulling off his Naval Academy ring and handing it over to his pilot. Goose told Maverick your ring size next before adding, “Where the hell are you going to find wedding bands at this time of day?”

“I’ll figure it out. But, go! There’s probably a shit ton of people trying to get married there now,” Maverick urged, pushing the two of you towards the Bronco. 

“Thanks, Mav!” 

~~~~~

Goose drove you down to the courthouse and just like Maverick predicted, there was already a long line of people trying to get married. And just about every single groom-to-be was a naval officer in his dress whites. You and Goose started on the paperwork so that you could get married right away when Maverick came barreling down the hall. 

“I got them,” he stated, handing over two gold bands. “And I got these for you, Mrs. Goose.” 

“Thanks, Mav,” you replied, eyeing the roots that were still attached to the bottom of the flowers that he handed to you. “Did you steal these from someone’s yard?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Maverick stated, ripping off the roots for you and tossing them in the trash. 

“Just don’t ask. It’s always easier to not ask,” Goose told you, causing you to laugh. 

About a half an hour later, it was finally your turn to get married. Goose and Maverick stood at the end of the short courtroom besides the judge as you slowly walked down the aisle. Coming to stand besides Goose, you smiled up at him, absolutely enamored with your husband-to-be. And he smiled back at you like you were the only other person in the universe. 

The vows were short and the ceremony was all together only about five minutes, but when the two of you finally got to say ‘I do’ in front of the judge and slipped the gold bands onto each other’s fingers, you were practically bouncing in place, ready to pounce on your husband. And he was already pulling you closer.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the—” 

Goose wasted no time in pulling you in for a kiss and you happily returned it, throwing your arms around Goose’s shoulders. The judge shared a look with Maverick, who shrugged with a proud smile, as Goose dipped you for a moment, the two of you practically making out in the middle of the courtroom. 

“Well, it’s a good thing that this isn’t a church,” the judge remarked, causing Maverick to laugh. 

And with a few quick signatures and a stamp, you were officially married. You were now and would forever be Mrs. Goose Bradshaw. And neither you nor Goose was ever going to let anyone forget that. Goose led you out of the courthouse and pulled you in for another kiss once you were outside. 

“I’ll leave you two to enjoy your night,” Maverick replied, shooting the both of you a wink.

“Thanks, Mav,” Goose returned on behalf of the both of you.

“Here,” you called, handing Maverick the flowers that he brought you. “Go have a wonderful night of your own, Mav.”

“Will do, Mrs. Goose,” Maverick replied, giving you a quick salute. 

You and Goose walked to the Bronco as Maverick hopped on his Kawasaki and headed back for the Navy Club. Goose, getting increasingly more handsy with each step, gently pressed you up against the Bronco and peppered kisses up and down your face and neck.

“What do you say that we move onto our wedding night,” Goose suggested, squeezing your hips. “There’s a pull off down the road, about five minutes from here.” 

“Goose,” you reprimanded, smacking him lightly on the chest, and causing him to straighten up immediately. “Your first time as a married couple is supposed to be special and romantic. Not a romp in your car.” But then you grinned and leaned up to whisper in your husband’s ear. “But that can be our second time.” 

“I better get you home then,” Goose remarked, tugging open the door for you.

~~~~~

You called out of work the next morning, knowing that you were going to be an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Goose stepped out of your bedroom as you prepared breakfast, already dressed in his day uniform. Trying to put on a brave face, you handed Goose a plate with food for him. Goose took the plate from you but quickly set it aside. 

Pulling you closer, Goose lifted you up onto the counter and quickly connected your lips. He leaned down and laid you down against the counter. You reached down as Goose captured your lips again and undid his belt. Goose held your joined hands up further on the counter as you held onto him for one final ride before he had to leave.

Goose rested his forehead against your own as the two of you gasped together, holding each other as close as possible. Goose muffled your cries with his lips as the two of you slowly came down from your shared high, pressing soft kisses around your face as you slowly relaxed onto your countertop again. 

Staring up at him with tears in your eyes, you cupped his cheeks and pulled his forehead back against your own and brushed your noses together. Goose held you there together, giving your left hand a reassuring squeeze. Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he tried to smile.

“You’ll be alright, Honey. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I know,” you croaked out, rubbing his cheek softly. “I love you, Goosie.” 

“I love you too, Honey.” 

“Come back to me.” 

“Always,” Goose replied, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

The two of you righted your appearances before heading out the door. Goose drove the Bronco down the road and slowly pulled into the lot. The two of you silently held hands as you walked onto base. Goose went to quickly change into his flight suit, leaving you and Maverick standing in the hall for a moment.

“He’ll be alright,” Maverick told you, noticing the tears in your eyes. “I’ll take good care of him. And I’ll bring him back to you in one piece.” 

“Thanks, Mav,” you returned, sniffling a bit. “And it’s only for a few months. I’ll be fine.” 

A few months. More like almost a year. Goose told you last night that they estimated that they would be gone for eight to ten months. It could be shorter than that. It could also be longer than that. But you couldn’t think about that right now. 

Goose emerged from the locker room and the three of you walked down to the tarmac. Other aviators were already saying goodbye to their families and Maverick took a few steps to the side to give you and Goose a smidge of privacy. 

Sniffling, you turned to look up at Goose, knowing that it was time to say goodbye. He squeezed your hands and put up a brave smile, but you knew that he was dying inside just as much as you were. His eyes just always gave it away. 

“Come back to me,” you whispered out. 

“I’ll always come back to you, Honey,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your nose. Pulling you in for a tight hug, Goose let his own tears drop. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

The two of you simply held onto each other for a few moments until Maverick gently touched Goose’s shoulder and gestured for their plane. It was time to go. But you weren’t ready to let go. And neither was Goose. 

“You’ll hardly notice I was gone,” Goose told you, tilting your chin up so that you locked eyes.

“Sure,” you agreed, playing along with the lie, though your voice broke as you spoke. “I’ll write to you, so that you don’t forget about me.”

“Honey, there’s no way on Earth that I could ever forget you.” Pressing a kiss to the tear that slipped out of your eye, Goose pulled you closer. “You’re my home.”

“You’re mine too,” you whispered shakily, burying your face in his chest. 

Goose pulled you in for one last passionate kiss goodbye before they had to finally go. You stood there with the other family members, watching a Goose left with your heart in his pocket. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you waved to him. Goose blew you a kiss and you caught it, holding it to your heart.

But then the canopy came down and the planes turned to take off for somewhere out in the middle of the ocean. 

[n4talia-chaparro]

"Omg 5 days without posting?! Lmao so funny."

Yeah I get it >|:/

I wanted to make this post cuz a lot of you were so "CoNcERnEd" about me and the allegations made by the anons. And well in case people wanna find "info". I kinda don't care if people wanna keep attacking me and shit but yk. I have to speak up and explain.

So I wanna start by saying that what I did last Thursday and Friday was very retarded and dumb of me and I highly apologize once again. I was not in the right mindset and it was never my intention to ignore anyone's advice. I have been mentally unstable and stressed that I couldn't focus. Yeah. I was having anger issues and a meltdown. I couldn't control them so I'm apologizing for the way I acted that time without thinking straight. It's not easy to be a CU artist because of what's happening and I admit it's not easy for me to be perfect like you guys wanted me to be. I tried everything yet you guys seem to judge and shove words in my damn throat.

About the allegations... the anons were also after one of my moots so I wanted to explain and debunk them. It's giving me a headache and overwhelming the living shit out of me.

(BTW pls I do NOT encourage harassment or any sort of threats to anyone mentioned in this post)

The grooming: this allegation is false. I'm sick of seeing them throwing the allegations around like it was some sort of volleyball-type shit. (I'm A MINOR !!! Not a adult-)

The reason why they were spreading those is because of my grooming situation I had a few years ago when I had 9-11 (and UNSUPERVISED). It all started on amino and I met my groomer. (I'm calling them M cuz yea). M and I were close friends and we used to talk. My groomer was a Krupp x Melvin shipper, a pro-shipper obviously, they would force me to do NSFW roleplay and art based on their favorite ship. (Keep this in mind I was younger at that time and I never knew how to say no to them) and they even guilt-trip me and stuff just make me feel bad and well. They would often force me to ship them too...yikes...

One day we argued and their friends decided to cause drama in the group chat. They pointed fingers at me and called me a predator. Again I was 9. I wasn't aware of what proshipping is until age 12. A lot of shit happened. I got threats, harassment, etc. And at the age of 13-14 I was groomed by someone different um yayy...:/// I was never taught about the internet safety.

And that's where the "Natty is a groomer" bullshit came from :/

I'm 16 now and to this day I keep receiving those rape threats and stuff over my past and then seeing people spreading those is dumb. The anon even went to Linavloger's blog to send a rape threat and told her I was gonna groom her. This is fucking disrespectful. Lina is Younger than me, she's fucking 13. I find it disgusting that you guys choose to tell her that. It's gross for fuck's sake. What is your problem????? For the love of God stop spreading that allegation. Not only you are making me uncomfortable but also the others who were involved. Literally, stop.

My trauma is not for you to joke with it or use it as a shield. It's gross that people are making fun of me for that. No I mean yeah. My past wasn't great because I met people who already sexualized me too many times but it doesn't mean you have to bring it up and tell everyone about it. :"(

The sexualization: The anon mentioned that I sexualized Harold in one of my videos which is again funny yet bullshit because according to them it was because of a pride month pin and small accessories..

When I say pin i meant this- 😭

Like I'm so sorry but how is this sexualizing him? It's a Pride Month pin. A PIN. How the fuck can yall be this stupid. It was an old video and you took it so seriously????? Like what???? Have you read the 12th book??? There's no way you think it's sexualization when it's Harold with an MLM pin.

This also goes to the AGERE subject. I do NOT normalize nor promote ddlg. There's a difference between ddlg/ageplay and an ACTUAL coping mechanism and I'm tired of hearing this bullshit over again like stfu so uh.

Ddlg/ageplay is where random ass adults roleplay as children and do weird shit.

Agere on the other hand is where someone reverts to a young mindset to cope with trauma, stress, severe illness, or disorders. (Mainly a safe way to cope ofc)

These are the differences between them. You cannot just tell me it's the same shit dawg. 😭

The "ripping off" thingy: another thing that I wanna address is about the au :/

The anons that I dealt with were just infini-tree fans/supporters and tree house members. Well idk. They may sound like whiney little cunts but still-- my AU does NOT have any similarity with THAT. Why would I steal ideas from someone who BLOCKED me for no reason and sent her fans after me??? No really how? How can a blocked user steal ideas if they can't see, or interact with the post (like & reblog)? Be real y'all. You may seem ridiculous if you believed those anons cuz none of them didn't pull the evidence out of their ass. 💀

"You need to apologize to her" for what? Dawg I didn't do jack shit to her in the first place LMAO yeah like--- don't get me started on that bs again. I don't wanna hear her damn name, I don't wanna know anything about her aus and shiii-- or anything related to her in my inbox or dm. I do NOT wanna have anything to do with that individual. End of the story. Not trying to be harsh, rude, or anything but like. It's annoying. I don't like to be compared to anyone or deal with the same bullshit.

Mhm yea like man. Idk what else I need to debunk but pls don't believe those anons dawg.

You can't even ask for proof cuz they don't gave any 🥰🥰💀💀💀‼️‼️‼️😭😭😭 LOL IMAGINE FABRICATING ALLEGATIONS Y'ALL ARE SO DUMB 🗣‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥

[presidentheartbeat6]

The Temeraire Playlist...

Hi. Hello. I am here today to ramble on about the music I've got on my temeraire playlist.

My music taste is. Strange. Blame my dad.

GRAND NEW SPIN (GOLD CELESTE): Starting out strong with a song that reminds me of willzing. There are! A lot of these!!! On here. You have been forewarned.

Anyways I think this is from Tharkay's perspective. "A longing for things to begin" (Ok but pining Tharkay. methinks.) / "A place where truth is not a sin" (THEIR HOME!!!! POST CANON!!!!!!!!! yea guess what the truth part is I dare you. I'll give you a hint its their GAY LOVE)

MEDICINE (LOVING): Will Laurence.

"You felt for the words like the wings of a bird, riding the winds of a dark form you heard" (!!!!! TEMRER!!!!!!!!!) / "A voice speaking low, it said 'I swim the deep waters, dreams are my eyes, deeper than blue'" (this but.. Tharkay.. dreaming about blue eyes..)

And then the last few lines are. Laurence to Tharkay & Granby :,)

TWO FOR NERO (EVERYTHING EVERYTHING): Ok so I can't put an everything everything song and NOT talk about it. Fair warning I'm crazy insane about this song. Like wild. My blog name is actually based on the everything everything song called (you guessed it) president heartbeat.

Now this song. Starts out a little strange. You're like 'where are these guys going with this???' And then about halfway through. You get to. The Part. You'll see what I mean. Pllllss tell me what you think about this song I'm so curious if it's just a me thing or what.

Anyways... this song is soo. Will Laurence. But specifically it's Granby talking about him.

"We met inside a war zone" / "And you never tell me anything, you never tell me anything" (EARLY BOOKS LAURENCE POV, HIM & GRANBY WHEN HE'S STILL FIGURING OUT THE CORPS. HEAVY BREATHING.) / "I can't remember dates and times, and I'm sorry for the years I was a shipwreck boy" (Laurence POV amnesia arc. Yeha.) / "I'd rather dash myself up on the rocks, than see you waste away your day with clocks, in every corner of your parent's home" (amnesia arc granble POV gheaaauugh) / "And there's no world war coming in, all the reasons I've been worrying, just forget the parts you'll never need, all these things I'll tell you when you wake up" (SO FUCKED UP SO FUCKED UP SO FUCKED UP. hahahaha Point of View: Granby when his best friend loses all memory of him lol hahaha!!!!!!!! hahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!)

MAKE A CHIIIIIILD. AAA CHIIIILLDDDDD. AAAA FOOORREEEESTTTTT.

ok sorry I'm done. there are even MORE lyrics that relate to them in this song than the ones that I listed btw. some ODDLY specific ones too. I wish I could listen to this song for the first time again.

DRAGON EYES (ADRIANNE LENKER): no this is definitely not just on here cuz dragon is in the song name how dare you. anyways this song is sososoooo willzing.

Just think like ... tharkay's perspective..... "When the hot sand burns my feet, you have cool hands, you are sweet" / "As the coastline is shaped by the wind, as we make love and you're on my skin, you are changing me, you are changing me" / "I just want a place with you, I just want a place" (do I even need to say it?!!?? ok fine. their house. post canon.)

IN OUR BEDROOM AFTER THE WAR (STARS): dare I say Tharkay Laurence Granby friendship.........

"It's us, yes, we're back again, here to see you through, 'til the days end" (YEAH. YEAH. GRANBY AND THARKAY @ LAURENCE.) / "She's gone, she left before you woke, as you ate last night, neither of you spoke" (beautiful awkward early day willzing) / "And if you lost it all, and you lost it, well we'll still be there when your war is over" (AGAIN!!! THEM AT LAURENCE!!)

TO GO HOME (M. WARD): GRANBY & LITTLE>???>?>?>? finally a song NOT about Laurence. except this could probably still be about Laurence if u squint.

"Sailing on a sinking ship, into the sunset in day" (poor granble forced onto all those many. long. boat voyages LOL) / "To think I'll have to give it all up someday" (just thinking Abt how they'd never be able to get legally married and even if they do stay together how they'd live their lives in constant fear of being found out) / "And if I ever treated you mean, you know that it was only because, I'm sorry, I couldn't have you for my own"

IN THE AEROPLANE OVER THE SEA (NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL): Tharkay song :3

"What a beautiful face, I have found in this place, that is circling all 'round the sun" (Tharkay inner monologue whenever he sees Laurence) / "What a beautiful dream, that could flash on the screen in the blink of an eye and be gone from me" (the dangers of Laurence dying in the line of duty, etc, etc) "And one day we will die, and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea" (thinking about temeraire spreading their ashes lol lol lol I am laughing so hard rn hahahahaha. spreading them TOGETHER I might add. United even in death) "With one you loved so long ago, now he don't even know his name" (*whispers* amnesia laure- *gunshots*)

SIMULATION SWARM (BIG THIEF): Mmmm yum yum I love this song. It sort of gives me Granby & Laurence vibes.

"O my stars, winged creatures, gathering in silken height" (TEEEMMMERAIIRE! sorry I have to.) / "with the drone of fluorescence, flicker, fever, fill the form" (just thinking about Laurence watching over Granby one of the many times he's seriously injured. siiigh.) / "And you could be my brother, once again fall asleep with our backs against each other" / "I'd fly to you tomorrow, I'm not fighting in this war, I wanna drop my arms and take your arms and walk you to the shore"

TOUGH LOVE (FLYTE, LAURA MARLING): auhgguhgh more willzing feelings. just thinking about their adjustment period after fighting in the war where they're both trying to learn how to Be Normal about being in love. thisssss ssoonnggg gives me Tharkay POV vibes.

"I've been trying to hurt you, I've been holding you tight" (the ultimate paradox, pushing away those you love because you're afraid of it, and being so desperately in love you can't fully make yourself do it.) / "I've been learning to love you, am I doing it right?" / "How are you still breathing, with my hands all over your heart?" (I think that while Laurence is still eons from normal, once he comes to terms with it he's a lot... MORE normal about their romance than Tharkay. Laurence trusts him completely and it is. a little disturbing to Tharkay, perhaps)

THE SMOKE (THE SMILE): ohohohoho. this is a fucking PHENOMENAL song.

"It begs me, while I'm sleeping, I desire a second chance, I set myself on fire" (oh YEEESSSS post treason Laurence yum yum yum) / "Wakes me from my sleep, smoke wakes me from" (MUST I EVEN SAY IT. THARKAY RESCUE MOMENT.)

TRIPOLI (PINBACK): I'm too lazy to make an animatic. but if I WERE going to. it would probably be to this song.

"You know what's gonna happen, you know what's gonna happen, he's gonna go down, and he's gonna come back again" (Tharkay somehow miraculously returning to Laurence over and over and over again. soulmates. attracted to each other but also like LITERALLY physically attracted to each other in a magnet way. idk. SOMETHING.)

FORTRESS (PINBACK): THE EGG HUNTTTTTTT!!! HUNT FOR EGG!!!!! DESERT!!!!!!!!!! LAURENCE THARKAY GRANBY BONDING!!!!!!!!

"You and a test of will, too many fallen, too many failed, nobody move, nobody move" (EGG HUNT111 and. bunyips) / "You and I, uneasy, livid" (OOAUGHHQ!! I just think yk like. being stuck out their in the elements day in and day out. all those horrible conditions. and again, the fucking bunyips. so many stressors.... them all being anxious and snappy with each other... angst soooso good...) / "Stop, it's too late, I'm feeling frustrated, I see no sign of fortress, I see no fortress" (looking for water, looking for the egg, looking to catch a FUCKING break for once) / "Another delay, too many hassles, where do we go? How do we follow?"

WILD WEST (GREGORY AND THE HAWK): I love Gregory and the hawk ssoooososososoooooooooooo much. SSOOOSOSOSOOOOO MUCH. I have sooo many of her songs on my aubreyad playlist... yeehhaANYWAYS this song is. soo. Laurence coded.

"Flightless skies, the fear, the doom, it's no surprise" / "Realize there's no sense in losing your mind before your time, in order not to worry, you write the words down, but it's a fools game" (AMNESIA ARC AMNESIA ARC AMNESIA ARC) / "Rise young sun, you're a tireless one, and you'll be back burning when the morning comes" (LAURENCE LAURENCE LAURENCE)

GET NUMB TO IT! (FRIKO): hahhakjdshnjsh would it be mean to say. John Granby. poor baby darling.

"Tip toe out from the backdoor down to the basement, where your funny faces always made me frown" (sneaking into littles' room...) / "And when I'm down, I'll dance in a fever cold and calm, with a sewn on smile and feet swollen and numb" (poor guy :( the granble <3) / "And it doesn't get better, it just gets twice as bad" (JHBKJNKJNKJN. yeah. he literally Cannot Catch a Break bruh.)

OOKAYY!!!!! thank you for reading WOW congrats if you got all the way to the bottom :DDDDDDD listen to one of these songs and tell me when you think :)))!!!!!!

If anyone ever wants to talk music with me literally ever...... pls. I am so here.

[margowritesthings]

MARGO'S 1K CELEBRATION I - TROPE BINGO

Y'ALL. I can't believe this. 1,000 is such a mind boggling number to me, considering these weird word children would otherwise just be sitting in my brain on their own. I can't thank you enough for your support over the last year. this blog is one of the best things that has happened to be, and now that i'm pursuing my dream of becoming a published writer i truly believe it has changed the course of my life. YOU have changed my life. thank you for being there to read and support. i love y'all.

soooo reading and writing romance is basically my only prsonality trait, so why not celebrate 1k followers with the thing that got me here! im putting you guys as the star role in your own romance- follow along the steps below and send me an ask with your trope and character selection + any extra info.

STEP 1 - PICK A TROPE (please pick up to 3 tropes!)

➼ friends to lovers ➼ enemies to lovers ➼ s/he falls first ➼ one night stand ➼ grumpy x sunshine ➼ small town ➼ billionaire ➼ mafia ➼ forced proximity ➼ marriage of convenience ➼ fake dating ➼ second chance ➼ one bed ➼ childhood sweethearts ➼ surprise pregnancy ➼ why choose? (send up to 3 characters for a reverse harem ship) ➼ random!- i will use a generator ➼ writer's choice- i will choose based on your profile (mutuals only)

STEP 2 - PICK A SHIP there are 3 ways to get your ship:

➼choose a fandom (or multiple fandoms) from the below list and I will choose for you (the more info about yourself you provide the better this choice will be) ➼choose a specific character from the fandoms in the list (or multiple and I will choose) ➼(mutuals only) tell me your fandoms and I will choose for you based on your profile/what i know about you/what you provide me with (even if the fandom ISNT on the list below)

FANDOMS PARTICIPATING IN THIS CELEBRATION: ➼ red dead redemption ➼ bridgerton ➼ marvel ➼ starfield ➼ fallout ➼ skyrim ➼ stardust ➼ star wars ➼ doctor who ➼ daisy jones and the six ➼ mad men

STEP 3 - EXTRA INFO

IMPORTANT- INCLUDE YOUR GENDER AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION IF LETTING ME CHOOSE THE SHIP. Add anything about yourself you want me to know. If you're on anon, this is very important!! I cannot make anything personalised for you if I do not know anything about you. Any icks, anything you want me to include, turn ons, etc. Basically provide me with anything you think might help me make the best gift for you!

RULES

➼ Followers only please, I cannot police this as I have asking on anon enabled, but this is a celebration for my followers so if you are gonna enter please do ensure you are following me

➼ Likes and reblogs are really appreciated! if you do enjoy my work you can also check out my masterlists which can be found here or buy me a coffee here!

➼ At the least, I will be able to make a moodboard for your ship + tropes, but if the inspiration strikes me I will write headcanons and drabbles too. These are a bonus and should not be expected with every entry

➼ 18+ - some of these tropes will include explicit detail, so 18+ only please

➼ Please grant me patience! i am doing this alongside a full time job and have some personal stuff on, but i do want to celebrate so im trying to fit this in as best i can. please be kind and respectful of my lil internet space :)

➼ all posts will be tagged #margo's 1k celebration

tagging my frens to say THANK YOU cause i couldn't do it without ya <3: @inkandbloodbound @cowboydisaster @musicallisto @saradika @sickvictorianangel @alottanothing @twola @photo1030

[floral-force]

first request ever for you so HERE WE GO! i’m kinda stuck on the thought of like, angst right now. maybe hurt/comfort. but here’s the idea: i haven’t finished s3 yet so pardon me if this is completely wrong, but imagine like, in general, din, the other mandalorian and friends are going to battle to like re-take mandalore or smth, take over smth that’s very important. reader and grogu are both force sensitive and when din thinks victory is theirs, one last attack hits, making reader grab grogu and like bins their force together like from fire, and reader ends up getting burned. i need a nice juicy hurt/comfort with some marriage at the end 🤞

I really ran away with this idea. I needed to flex my din djarin muscles again and this was a great prompt for that! I got into a flow, one thing led to another, and now I present you with the fic below. all I can do now is sit and hope you enjoy it!

(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)

The Only Hope for Me Is You

Din Djarin x GN!Reader, Force user!Reader

summary: Din’s fearless, Force-sensitive partner has been at his side through everything. Unknown to him, his partner has slowly fallen in love with him. When Din gets the chance to start a new life after they help retake Mandalore, a confession paves a new path. Will they choose to take it?

words: 4.8k+

warnings/tags: my blog is 18+ ONLY/NO MINORS, fluff, first kiss, minor injury (burn), Mando'a pet names, marriage, soft!din djarin, the helmet comes off, grogu is a guest star

read on ao3 | masterlist | send a request

They were fearless and brave—something Din deeply admired about them. They never hesitated to protect Grogu or scout ahead of Din. Sometimes, he’d nearly beg them to stay behind him or at least stay close. They’d insist that they’d be okay— “I have the Force on my side, Din”—but the love he carried for them in his beskar-plated chest would have him close to begging them to let him protect them. Din would fall to his knees for them and grant their every wish. He wished he could rip open his chest and show them how his heart beat only for them and the child.

Din had gripped their arms before they both left the ship to retake Mandalore, had told them that they needed to put their and the child’s safety first. He thought he’d gotten through to them, had broken through their stubbornness. Din really thought that telling them how important they were to him back on Nevarro would soften it and make them more compliant when he asked them to listen for their own safety. They’d nodded and held Grogu closer to their chest, leaned into Din’s touch when he put a gloved hand on their cheek, kissed his palm with their soft lips.

Din should have known better.

When a fireball was headed towards where he, Bo, Grogu and they knelt, Din knew Bo’s small shield would do nothing. He accepted that he’d die for his home and his people. He’d closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made peace with it as it barreled towards them, the heat closing in. But when he looked to his side to look at them and Grogu one last time, they weren’t there. They were on their knees next to the child in front of him and Bo, their left arm extended, the other flat against the ground behind Grogu. Their body was angled slightly in front of Grogu, a protective stance so they would take the brunt of any injury. His breath caught in his throat when he realized the fire was splitting around them, diverted by an invisible forcefield that they and Grogu created with their powers. Bo looked at Din, and he glanced at her, but kept his helmet trained on them. 

Din moved again when the fire dissipated and they yelped, falling forward to the ground, Grogu plopping down to sit. His breath caught in his throat—they were alive, but he could tell their breaths were labored from exertion. Bo scooped Grogu into her arms and nodded at Din before lifting into the air. Din shook his head when he took them into his arms, noticing a blistering burn spreading up their left forearm from the wrist to the elbow. As he followed Bo into the air and escaped with them from the crumbling cave, he squeezed them closer in his arms, whispering their name to himself. 

He hoped to whatever powers may be that they would be okay, that he’d get to spend another day with his brave partner and son. 

“Din?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. Your vision was blurry and the environment around you was dark and quiet. All you knew was that you were laying down on a ship, the mattress under your back firm and the hum of engines filling your ears. Your pulse quickened and you nearly shouted, “Where am I?”

Your anxiety started to fade away when a familiar hand brushed your head, rubbing its thumb across your sweaty forehead.

“Shh, cyar’ika, I’m here.” Your vision adjusted, and you saw a beskar helmet hovering over you. Din was on your left side, forcing you to gently turn your head to see him better. “We’re going back to Nevarro.”

You made a mental note to ask him about that word later. “It’s over?”

He nodded. “It’s over.” When you went to move your left arm, you hissed in pain. Din gently pressed your hand back down to rest on the rack. “You’re hurt. Don’t move that arm.”

You lifted your head up and looked down your torso to see your forearm wrapped in a bandage, some pink splotches bleeding through the white material. You looked for Grogu, but when you didn’t see him, you panicked. 

“Where is—What happened to Gro—”

“He’s okay,” Din assured, his voice low and grounding. 

He was the calm in your storm, always calling you back when you drifted away. It was one of the things you loved about him. Din centered you and grounded you, reminded you of your strength and power. Without Din, you’d surely be dead by now. Even the Force couldn’t save you from making rash decisions driven by emotion alone. 

It was why you couldn’t train Grogu when Din found you and asked you. You’d agreed to travel with him and at least get Grogu started, help him start to channel his abilities. At least you’d be able to leave the backwater planet you were hiding on and start to consider the possibility of a new life elsewhere. Slowly, you got to know your beskar pilot better, constantly fighting the feelings growing within you. He was witty and smart, protective and surprisingly passionate. Din had made it incredibly hard not to fall for him when he gave you gentle touches and soft reassurances. 

You were the one comforting him when he gave Grogu away to Luke Skywalker. Din had looked at you later on Boba’s ship and taken your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. You selfishly hoped he felt the same, but it wasn’t likely. You had let your feelings consume you not long ago, but you stood on uncertain ground with the armored object of your affection. The doubt festered within you even after he’d taken you aside and told you that you mattered a great deal to him and the child, and that you needed to be careful.

But those feelings were why you didn’t hesitate to leave his side and stay next to the selfless little child as he fought back the fireball. You joined him and felt your energy quickly fading; you hadn’t exerted yourself this much in years. You held on and fought back the black threatening your vision, pushing yourself to protect your little family and the woman who had looked out for all of you. You must have let go a little too early, judging by the bandage on your arm. If getting a burn meant your family survived, then you would gladly offer your skin to the flames every day for the rest of your life.

Looking into the visor above you, you had no doubt in your mind about where your heart was and who you were called home to. The galaxy had given you a purpose when Din had entered your small hut with a tiny, big-eared, green baby in his satchel. You were determined to fight for them with every breath you took. Even if Din didn’t feel the same, you’d defend him with your dying breath. That was what mattered.

“Are you okay, Din?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

He nodded and reached over your torso to place a hand on your waist, gripping it as if he could lose you again at any moment. “I’m fine, cyar’ika. Bo is flying us back to Nevarro, and we’ll go from there.”

There was that word again. You swallowed and felt fatigue sweeping over your body again. You looked up at him and asked meekly, “Can I go back to sleep?”

He chuckled, a low hum in his chest. He said your name with a nod. “Yes. I’ll be here at your side the entire time.”

You gave him one last smile before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.

You’d grinned when Din told Karga he’d take up his offer of land and a cabin. The two men shook hands as Grogu cooed in your arms. Greef had looked at you both with a knowing smile. 

“Hopefully, you can all rest now. Nevarro is thankful for all that you’ve done.”

Din nodded at his old friend. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Greef shook his head. “Not necessary, my friend. It’s the least I can do.”

The cabin was modest in size and decoration. It had basic furniture and cookware, enough to get by while shopping around for new things. The hot spring in front of the cabin kept Grogu occupied, and the porch let Din kick his feet back and relax for the first time in his life. Din left that same day to make a quick trip to the Adelphi outpost and told you about his offer to Captain Teva upon his return. While it made you nervous—these Imperial remnants were serious threats—you were glad he could return to bounty hunting on his terms with somewhere stable to return to. The end of this journey left you even more uncertain about your place in the world—was it with Din and the child? Were you meant to leave and start a life somewhere else, hiding again?

That night, you sat on the porch with him under the stars. His armor and gloves were off, his bare tan skin in the open air. You felt entirely at peace—Grogu was asleep in the cabin, your belly was still full from dinner, cheeks a little heated from the wine you’d indulged in—and you were overjoyed to be sharing this with Din. Despite your confusion, you were so grateful to share this moment of calm with him as he began a new life. So much so, that you needed to tell him. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things unsaid. You stood up and cleared your throat. His helmet turned to look at you, the hand he had resting on his thigh clenching into a fist.

“Din, I have something to tell you.”

“Are you alright, cyar’ika?” Din asked with worry in his modulated voice. “Is it your burn? Are you injured?”

Before he could get up and fuss over you, you shook your head and pushed on his chest so he’d relax back into the chair. “No, Din, I’m fine. I promise. It’s just—” you bit your lip and glanced around— “this is important.”

“You can tell me,” he said, sitting up and taking your hands in his. His gentleness never failed to surprise you. The man had killed so many for his son and for you, had fought his way through hell and back just to help retake his people’s home, had experienced so much hurt and pain. But despite it all, he sat in front of you stripped of his armor, defenseless and trusting you not to hurt him.

You turned your head to stare at the flats stretching into the dark. Your eyes glanced up at the stars to avoid his helmet before dropping to the cement beneath your shifting feet. Taking a deep breath to center yourself, you turned your head and focused back on the visor and how the beskar was gently lit by the two warm yellow porch lights. You absentmindedly stroked your bandage and sighed.

“I love you, Din.” Your heart was drumming in your chest and shaking your skin. 

He was silent. Off in the distance, something chirped, and you heard yourself swallow. You weren’t sure if you preferred silence, or his modulated voice, even if it was a rejection. The doubts that lay dormant within your chest rose with a snarl and twisted under your ribs. Each second that passed in silence let them sink their claws into you a little bit more each time.

Finally, he softly whispered your name and squeezed your hands. Din rose to his feet and gently pulled you closer. You could smell him—sandalwood, musk, leather. Intoxicating and alluring, just as it had been from the beginning. You wanted so badly to taste him, too—to feel his lips on yours and melt into him.

“I love you too,” he murmured. Din cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked it with his thumb.

You sighed in relief and chuckled, dropping his hand to rest yours on his chest, tugging on the fabric of his flight suit. Din wrapped his arms around you and held you close in his embrace, a large hand cupping the back of your head. You sank into his warmth and let yourself go limp with love, feeling your mind calm for the first time in a long time. 

“I was really hoping you’d say that,” you mumbled into his chest.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” he asked, his words vibrating underneath you.

You shook your head. “I thought you wouldn’t want…” You trailed off and hummed. 

“Wouldn’t want what? Wouldn’t want you?”

When you nodded against him, he dropped his arms and gripped yours, his warm palms burning through the fabric of your sleeves. Din took a step back and shook his head.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, cyar’ika.”

You felt your eyes start to water. “Really?” 

He nodded and ran his hands along the curve of your shoulders to your neck. Broad thumbs stroked the underside of your jaw. Your chest expanded with something warm and bright, the Force flowing through you with an unusual calmness. Your doubts had fled into the night, replaced with that glowing love and calm that only something truly wonderful can create. It felt as if you were meditating and at one with everything around you. You wouldn’t want to feel this way with anyone else.

“I adore you.” Din stated. “You’re one of the most fearless and honorable people I know. You’re selfless to a fault, always putting others first.” He chuckled. “I think the burn is proof of that.”

You smiled. “I’d have to agree.”

He nodded. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, cyar’ika.”

“I think you are too, Din.”

“You’ve never even seen me.”

You shrugged. “Don’t have to. I just know you are.”

“Would you—” Din cleared his throat. “Would you want to see me?”

“Din, no, your Creed—”

“I can remove it—” he said, cutting you off— “when I find the person I want to marry.”

You felt as if he’d stolen the air from your lungs, everything leaving your body with a sudden, stunned exhale. You’d been at his side throughout this journey with him and only stayed behind a few times, one of which being his redemption in the living waters. He hadn’t told you much about that moment, but you didn’t need all the details to know how much it meant to him. You could practically see him beaming under his beskar when the covert accepted him again. Hearing him offer to remove his helmet just so you could see him filled you with love, but fear as well. 

He caught on to your hesitancy and nerves. “Are you afraid I’m ugly?”

“No, I just—I…” You stopped and sighed, your chest deflating. “I don’t want to be the reason you become an apostate again.”

“No, cyar’ika, no.” He placed one of his hands on your waist. “Mandalorians can remove their helmets for the person they want to marry.”

Your eyes widened. “You want…to marry me?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”

He was right. When he spoke, there was rarely uncertainty in his words. Din was unwavering and steadfast, rigid and surefooted. 

“And that’s one of the things I love about you.” You gave him an affectionate smile. “But, you’re sure?” Din nodded; you raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely certain?” Another nod. “Entirely, fully—”

Din drawled your name and laughed, dropping his hands to his sides. “There’s nobody else I want to spend forever with.”

“Not your son?” He groaned and you patted his chest, letting your hand linger over his heart. “Just teasing you, my love.”

Din placed his hands over yours and asked, “You’re sure you want to be with me? That you want to see me?”

“Absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, skin warm under your lips. 

All he did was nod and bring his hands to the side of his helmet. You watched him turn away to take it off, a soft hiss before he removed it and revealed tousled brown curls to you. His hair was short and messy, and you already adored him. Din set his helmet on the chair, and you heard him take a deep breath before facing you again. Your breath hitched in your throat when you laid your eyes upon him for the first time.

Maker, he was ethereal. 

Even with the dim light, you could see a hint of a flush across his cheeks. His brow had a few lines showing his age and the stress of his profession. A mustache lay above his plush, pink lips. It was nearly impossible to resist smothering them with yours the longer you stared at him. Patchy brown scruff crept up from his soft jawline; you tilted your head and saw a small patch of gray near his jaw on the left side. You made a mental note to kiss that spot often. His curved nose split his face almost perfectly in two, accenting it perfectly. It was hard to make out the color of his eyes, so you took a step forward and squinted, placing your hands on his cheeks. Din inhaled sharply at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening and gazing into yours again. Finally, you were able to make out the color—a warm chestnut brown. 

“Din,” you breathed. “You’re beautiful.”

He placed a hand over one of your wrists, the other on your cheek. Seeing him softly smile made your heart soar and touch the stars above. He leaned in and your heart started to race as those warm eyes got closer to yours, his lips now close enough that you could lean forward and close the gap. Electricity ran up your spine when he whispered your name; you could feel his breath push against your mouth, tempting you to give in. Your bones felt like they were vibrating; whether it was from nerves or your unconscious disturbance in the Force, you weren’t sure.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to finally see you without the visor.” His low voice was even sweeter without the vocoder’s slight modulations. His thumb stroked back and forth over your skin, leaving you breathless.

“I’ve never been happier than I am now,” you confessed.

Din nodded, his eyes half closed and flitting between yours and your lips. “Me too, cyar’ika. I love you.”

You choked back a happy sob with a chuckle and a soft smile. “I love you too, Din,” you panted.

Din stole his name from your mouth as his lips crashed into yours. The fingers on your cheek gently pressed into your skin as if he was afraid of you slipping away into the night. His grip on your wrist loosened and he grabbed your waist, pulling you even closer to him. Yours fell to his neck, trailing down to his chest, nails scratching against the fabric hiding his skin from your greedy touch. Din pulled back only an inch and you both panted, catching your breath. His hand moved to the back of your head and his fingers rubbed slow circles into your scalp.

“I’ll never get enough of you.”

You shook your head and gave him a quick kiss. “I want to get married tomorrow.”

Din pressed another breathless kiss to your lips. “Tomorrow?”

You nodded and stroked his jaw with your right hand’s knuckles, lavishing in how he nearly whimpered at the feeling of your skin on his. You knew that you’d never be able to see or touch his handsome face enough. It was a sight you wanted to see forever. His smile lit you up from the inside out, sent shockwaves throughout your body. He calmed you even more without his helmet.

“Yeah,” you smiled against his lips. “I can’t wait any longer.”

His laugh was warm and lighter than you’d ever heard it before. “You’ve always been impatient.”

“Oh, you love it, Din Djarin.”

Din nodded. “I do,” he rasped against your mouth, quiet pants mixing with yours. 

His lips melted into yours once again, making your brain buzz with ecstasy. If this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up.

He woke up the next morning in bed with them at his side. He rolled over to face them, propping himself up on his elbow, resting his head on the heel of his hand. They lay on their right side, lips slightly parted and a little speck of drool on the corner of them. The morning light cast a natural spotlight on them and made Din’s heart burn even more for his soon-to-be riduur—his spouse, his partner for life. He felt himself smile as their eyes slowly opened, squinting and then focusing on him. They beamed at Din, filling the room with their radiance. 

“Hello, handsome,” they said with a hoarse voice. Din hummed when their fingers graced over his cheek, nails gently grazing his stubble. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, cyar’ika.” 

“I forgot to ask,” they yawned. “What does that word mean?”

“Cyar’ika?” They nodded, and Din continued, “It means darling. Sweetheart.”

They gave him a sleepy smile. “I like that. Maybe I’ll start using it.”

Din pinched their chin and shook his head. “No. That word is yours.”

“I’m not a Mandalorian, goofy.”

“But soon you’ll be married to one.” Din laughed when they rolled their eyes and groaned dramatically. “It’s yours. It always has been.”

They gave Din a soft smile, then rolled onto their back and reached out for the holopad on the bedside table. Din watched them push themselves up and lean back against the headboard with a few tired huffs. He pushed himself up and scooted closer, pressing his leg against theirs, feeling their warm skin against his. They were talking, but Din was too focused on their beauty that he missed everything.

“Din?” they said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get all of that?”

“No,” he grabbed their jaw and pulled them in for a kiss. “I was too busy staring at you.”

He loved the way they looked when they were flustered—face-splitting smile, nose crinkled, and the corners of their eyes creased. 

“That’s very sweet, my love. But this time, I need you to listen.” They cleared their throat. “Bo is coming over in an hour to go with me into town. Karga is coming over a little bit after that to get you and Grogu. The Armorer said the late evening—right at dusk—is when we’ll have the ceremony, and she told you to meet her there an hour beforehand.”

“Dusk?” Din’s eyebrows knitted together. “She didn’t give a time?”

They shook their head and held out the pad. Din took it and they got up, swallowing and feeling his ears heat up when he saw that they were still naked. Last night had been incredible to say the least. He wasn’t upset that they hadn’t hidden their stunning body under fabric before falling asleep on his chest, one of their hands resting on it, and the other loosely clutching his bicep. Stroking their head as they drifted off to sleep had been one of the most peaceful experiences of Din’s life. If this was going to be the rest of his life, then he was the luckiest man in the galaxy.

Din was reminded of that at dusk under a purple sky when they stood in front of him again, staring at him and into his eyes despite the visor. It hurt to see them with a barrier again, but the Armorer assured him they’d have a hidden moment alone together after the ceremony. He could feel the joy radiating off them, enveloping him in a safe embrace that only they could ever give him. Grogu made a small noise, and he looked down at his son, one of his tiny claws touching his calf. After this, they’d be a clan of three, and Din could be free to show his face in his home—their clan’s home—with his riduur and their little green ad’ika. 

Din had never been happier in his entire life.

The ceremony flashed by—Mandalorians were known for their prowess in battle, not lengthy displays of love—and soon Din was holding hands with his riduur. Grogu sat on a rock within arm’s reach, focused on levitating a few random pebbles on the ground. His helmet sat next to his son; Din looked into his spouse’s eyes, unmasked. It was heavenly. Their clan was standing behind a piece of stone jutting out of the ground, wide enough and tall enough to hide them from view. A couple Mandalorians stood watch a few meters away on the other side, making sure they were safe from being seen.

“You look beautiful,” Din said, stroking their cheek with his fingers.

“So do you,” they replied. “The beskar is extra shiny. I like it.”

“Good. Worked my ass off polishing it.” Din gave them a quick kiss, swallowing their laugh at his comment. His right hand was resting at the base of their skull, the other holding their left hand. “You deserve nothing but the best.”

“So do you, Din,” they breathed, pulling him towards them with hungry eyes. 

Din groaned when they kissed him with passion, burning him from within. They turned him to ash and brought him back to life all in the same breath. All he needed was their love, and he’d live forever. As their lips meshed together, he let go of their hand and placed it on the small of their back, making sure this was real—that they really were warm under his palm, that their lips were soft and delicious, that they were really his.

Din pulled back and stared into their eyes, giving them a kiss on the forehead, then the cheek. He heard one of the watchers call out for them to return soon, and he gave his riduur a wide grin; his cheeks were beginning to hurt from how much he’d been smiling. 

“Well,” they sighed, pushing away to reach over and grab his helmet, “time to go.”

Din looked at his son. “Grogu.” He smiled when the child looked up at him with his large eyes. “You ready?”

“Patu,” the child cooed, reaching his little claws up. 

Din lifted him up and set him on the ground, indulging his request. He knew that Grogu was more than capable of jumping to the ground and landing without injury, but his son seemed to love his touch and affection almost as much as he loved eating. Din was always happy to spoil his ad’ika no matter what the request was, and so was his riduur.

He looked back up at his stunning riduur and took the helmet from them. Din gave them one last kiss, letting their hand trail down his cheek to his jaw, then down his neck as he slowly replaced his helmet. Their hand landed on his chest plate, resting over his heart. That was where they lived within him; something deep and vital and full of love and life. Losing them would destroy him. He vowed to always protect them, to fight for them with every ounce of his being. Din looked at them again, gently resting his hand on their neck and smiling at the way they looked at him, their eyes full of love and hope.

“Come on, my love,” they said with a grin that could light up the darkest cave. “Let’s celebrate.”

Din nodded and said their name, loving the way they looked at him when it rolled off his tongue and into the air. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They took his hands and met his helmet’s gentle tilt forward with their forehead for a Keldabe kiss. Din had a feeling it would be the first of many that night. They stepped back and started to pull him with them, Grogu keeping pace with his slow, resigned steps.

Shereshoy. That was what he’d been feeling ever since last night—maybe even before then, maybe when he’d first met them. They gave him the strength to go on, motivated him to be as fearless as them, made him let go of his fears and let himself fall in love. As they walked into the light of the party to a symphony of cheers and clangs of beskar vambraces on chest plates, Din grinned. He was right where he belonged. Din was burning with a newfound lust for life and determination to keep his clan safe and forever loved. He never wanted the fire within him to go out.

Mando'a Translations: ad'ika [ah-DEE-kah]: little one, son, daughter of any age cyar'ika [shar-EE-kah]: darling, sweetheart riduur [REE-door]: partner, spouse, husband, wife shereshoy [sheh-REYSH-oy]: lust for life and much more - uniquely Mandalorian word, meaning the enjoyment of each day and the determination to seek and grab every possible experience, as well as surviving to see the next day - hanging onto life and relishing it..

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