#a ship that they were gonna stupidly break up too ?

[aquietgirlsmess]

I’m not upset about Scott and Malia breaking up because tbh I didn’t really care about them as a couple. I didn’t mind them but I wasn’t really into them.

But I am upset about what this means for Malia’s character. I mean it annoys me that they’re sacrificing one of her relationships again for the sake of fanservice because yes bringing Allison and making Scallison a couple again is fanservice and not fanservice that I mind, mind you, because I actually love both Allison and Scallison but still you know...

[standfucker]

The Break

Characters: Kid, Killer

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 7.5k

CW: Gore, graphic description of injury+pain+first aid, hurt/comfort, confessions, highly oblivious reader

Summary: You knew you were bad with feelings, but the fact that it took a severe injury for this to come to light was maybe a little concerning.

Ao3 Link

There had only been two moments in your entire career as a pirate where you didn’t live up to your “Slippery” epithet. The first time was when Eustass Kid had bested you in combat. Rather than killing you, he offered you a place on his crew, which you had accepted–partially in the hopes of becoming stronger, and maybe also because you kind of found him incredibly attractive. That was three years ago.

The second time was right now. The enemy’s weapons consist of giant, metal crab claws, one of which snaps shut around your forearm with the force of an industrial machine before you can shave away. You’re pretty sure the whole battlefield heard the snap. A few things run through your brain in quick succession:

One–that’s going to hurt really, really badly in a second. You only have a short amount of time to counterattack.

Two–this was karma for that conversation in the mess room a few weeks ago, where you taunted the others over your having never broken a bone.

“I grew up on a dairy farm. My bones are like iron. Don’t compare it to the shortbread you all have for a skeleton.”

“You just haven’t battled enough, Slip.”

“Wrong! It’s because no one can catch me. They call me ‘Slippery Y/n’ because I’m too fast.”

“Yeah, yeah. But not fast enough, since you’re with us now!”

“Fuck off!”

Not fast enough indeed. But at least, now, you’re within striking range of the enemy. He doesn’t block in time; your scimitar opens his throat like a cut purse and sends him to his knees, gurgling. Your arm is released and you collapse on the ground, but before you can get back up, the pain hits with an intensity that immediately rips an agonized scream from deep in your lungs.

It’s like your arm’s been doused in gasoline and set on fire. Burning and sharp, sharp, sharp, so overwhelming you’re nauseous. You make the mistake of looking at your arm, and the flash of white sticking through the skin nearly makes you vomit on the spot. Seeing it for what it is somehow makes the pain worse, leaving you breathlessly curling over yourself on instinct, unable to move. Somewhere next to you the body of your enemy thuds onto the ground, dead.

The battle against the opposing crew is almost over. Though it’s not much longer before the last enemy is slain and someone rushes to your side, it feels like an eternity.

“Slip, are you okay?” You hear Hip’s voice before you, high-pitched with concern. It drops once she notices your injury. “Are you–oh. Oh, fuck. Um, guys! Hey, you guys! Slip is really hurt!”

Footsteps, more voices. One by one, crewmates converge around you.

“Oh, ew.”

“Oh, shit, Slip!”

“Slip!”

“Get out of the way!” 

That last one would be Kid. You look up in time to see him push past a crewmate, face taught in what seems like anger but you’ve since learned to recognize is worry. Most of his deeper emotions are like that, sitting in the shadow of enmity but easily discernible if you knew him well enough.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, unable to assess your full state with you hunched over. The gruesomeness of your injury doesn’t seem to bother him. You shake your head, and relief softens his expression. “Okay. I know it hurts, but you’re gonna live.”

“I can’t get up,” you gasp, breath coming out short.

“Then I’ll carry you to the ship. Doctor’s on standby.” Kid crouches down next to you, flesh hand resting on your good shoulder. “It’s gonna hurt. Sorry in advance, Y/n.”

He’s the only one who doesn’t call you by your nickname. It makes sense, as he’s the one who caught you in the first place–it doesn’t really apply to him.

“It already hurts,” you reply, stupidly inviting more karma. Kid must think the same thing, because he frowns at you.

“Oh, just wait,” he mutters, and scoops you up as carefully as he can. The movement tears fresh hell through your arm, and you shout before you can even think to hold it in.

At least he doesn’t say ‘I told you so.’ It would only be salt in the wound, and you’re already in so much pain you can barely think. The walk back to the ship is its own trial, every step jolting your arm again, even with Kid’s best efforts to move smoothly. You tell yourself to be tough for about three seconds before it goes out the window. Frankly, you don’t deal with it well at all–you’ve never had a strong pain tolerance, it’s partly why you learned to be quick–but you manage not to scream with every step, so that’s something.

It’s a terrible shame that you’ll only remember this as excruciating–under any other circumstance, you would have cherished being held by Kid like this.

You glimpse your injury again, a wave of queasiness rising in your stomach, and press your face into Kid’s shoulder so as not to look. “I’m gonna throw up,” you say weakly.

“Since when does gore bother you?” Kid says under his breath, but you hear it.

“Since it is coming from MY BODY!!” you snarl. For once, Kid pities you enough not to scold you for talking back.

You’re shaking by the time you get to the infirmary. Most of the crew has come out of the battle unscathed, or with only minor injuries. The ship’s doctor is only concerned with you, and getting your bleeding to stop. But to close the rip…

“I have to reset the bones, first,” he says.

That was obvious to anyone with eyes, but you didn’t really think about it until just then. Your guts turn to stone at the thought, heavy and sinking as your heart starts to race. The lightest movement to your body is already enough to make you want to quit life on the spot; you are not prepared, capable, nor willing to see what it would feel like when the bone itself is directly touched. 

“You can leave it as-is,” you say, not joking in the slightest, not caring if it sounds cowardly, not even caring that half the crew is surrounding the exam table to hear it.

Kid takes one look at the fear in your eyes and turns to the rest of the crew. “Get out,” he commands. Everyone complies without question, only Killer staying behind, the unspoken exception.

Once the last person closes the door behind them, Kid focuses on you. “Y/n–”

“I can’t do it,” you cut him off, eyes welling up with tears. “I–I don’t want to.”

“Tough,” Kid snaps. “This is what you get for getting caught.”

“Kid,” Killer says, a warning to go easy on you.

It’s not necessary. You can see right through Kid’s harsh exterior. He always gets upset when a crewmate is hurt badly. What he’s really saying is ‘this is what you get for making me worry.’

“No time for discussion,” says the doctor. “I’d like to get this done before any more blood is lost. Hold them down, would you?”

Before you can protest, Kid and Killer secure you in place: Kid’s metal hand presses down on your legs while his flesh one wraps tightly around your good arm, and Killer pins your torso to his from behind.

“Wait, wait, wait!” you cry out quickly, but you can’t budge against them both. 

Kid nods at the doctor. “Do it.”

The disinfectant comes first, stealing the breath from your lungs, like acid on your exposed flesh. The doctor gives you no time to process the first action before he moves onto the second–rationally, you know it’s to minimize the amount of time you’ll be in pain, but you are incapable of viewing his actions kindly at the moment. He immediately forces the bones back to where they should be in one firm, expert motion. 

The world goes white. Nothing exists anymore except for the pain in your arm, unimaginable and all-consuming. You don’t perceive anything else, blind and deaf to any stimuli that isn’t sheer agony. Later on, you’ll realize that you must have screamed, if the soreness when you speak is any indication, but you don’t remember it.

The intensity eventually wanes enough to restore your senses, though your head is still swimming from the assault. Your sight returns first. Instead of the cold infirmary, your vision is entirely filled by Kid, his face so close you’d be staring into his eyes if they were open. His forehead is pressed to yours, and he’s saying something, but you don’t process it until your hearing comes back a moment later.

“...did good, Y/n, you did good. You’re okay. Easy, you’re okay.”

Kid… you think dimly, followed by, huh. Have I seen him do this with anyone but Killer?

You don’t question it beyond that thought, hanging onto his every word. The closeness abates the hurt, even if just slightly, and you bask in it, taking any mercy you can get. Kid and ‘comfort’ aren’t things that generally go together, but to you–scared, in pain, and maybe just a little bit hopelessly in love with him–it’s everything.

Killer smooths your hair back. His solid chest against your back is grounding, helping you stay present through the haze of misery. You’re suddenly grateful he’s there, too, his presence equally as soothing as Kid’s, the degree to which triggering a new realization: It’s obvious in hindsight, but you’ve never been great at analyzing your own feelings, and as such, it only just dawns on you that you’re down just as bad for the first mate. The revelation would have been panic-inducing if it wasn’t for the pain currently demanding all of your attention.

“They still with us?” Killer asks behind you.

Kid’s eyes open, meeting yours. You’ve never seen them this close before. The irises are an orange-gold, reminding you of smoldering embers. Your breath leaves you once more, but you’re not sure pain is the cause this time. Though it must have left you delirious, because your mouth moves before your brain can catch up.

“You have pretty eyes,” you mumble.

Said pretty eyes widen, Kid pulling back in surprise. He glances at Killer. “...That answer your question?”

Killer hums, gently rubbing your good arm. You go limp, leaning your full weight back against him without shame, hurting too much to care right then. He doesn’t seem to mind, anyway.

There’s a faint tinge of pink on Kid’s face, and he smirks down at you. “Better be careful there, Y/n. You can’t blame what you say on a head injury.”

“Whatever,” you huff, knowing you can get away with being rude without repercussions for now. “I don’t–” your words break into a gasp as the pain in your arm spikes so intensely that spots dot your vision.

Kid’s smirk instantly falls. You try to look at your burning arm, but he turns your head back so you’re watching him instead.

“Don’t look. He’s stitching it now. Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Another wave of pain has you fighting back a sob, barely able to keep it down. You instinctively go to look again, but Kid keeps your head from turning with a steady hand cupping the side of your face.

“Look at me, Y/n. There you go. Just hold on a bit longer.”

You try to do as he says, focusing on his eyes rather than the current torture, but it’s impossible. “Hurts so bad,” you whimper.

“I know,” Kid says softly. “We’re right here.”

The curved needle hooking through your skin isn’t the problem, nor is the nauseating sensation of the sutures sliding through the layers of flesh. Both, while admittedly sucking hard, are tolerable. The problem is that even as careful as he is, the doctor is still moving your arm with every stitch.

“Almost done,” Killer says, “almost done. You’re doing great.”

Am I really? you want to ask, but you’re currently unable to form anything more coherent than groans and curses.

The final trial is the splint, more unbearable movement to your arm that has you gripping the edge of the exam table so hard your knuckles turn white. Killer takes notice, peeling your hand from the table to hold in his, instead. Despite his hand being twice the size of yours, you’re pretty sure you crush it with the strength of your grip, but he doesn’t complain.

“I’ll apply a proper cast once the swelling goes down,” the doctor says once he’s finally, finally fucking done. “Rest in one of the patient beds and keep your arm above your heart as much as possible. You’re to sleep here until further notice.”

You’re helped into one of the beds, and once the doctor’s applied ice packs to your injury, Kid dismisses him. The three of you are left alone, Kid and Killer pulling up chairs next to the bed. Lying back, you stare blankly at the ceiling, catching your breath, humbled and terrified at the human body’s ability to feel such all-consuming anguish. Adrenaline still courses through your veins, making you jittery and hyper-aware, and you’re sweating, but at least the pain in your arm has simmered down to a dull, throbbing ache. While it still feels like the bones are screaming at you, you can endure it quietly, though it does make your eyes water. 

With the diminishing of the pain comes just enough clarity for you to feel utterly and totally disgraceful. You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone on the crew scream like you had, and plenty of them had endured their fair share of awful injuries. So why couldn’t you handle it better? How could you call yourself a pirate after such a display? All of that, and still visibly on the verge of tears now that it was over? You’d be more embarrassed about crying in front of them if you hadn’t just spent the enitre past fifteen minutes acting like a complete bitch.

Kid may have said you couldn’t blame your words on a head injury, but you think the pain alone is enough to make you loopy, because you find yourself laughing shortly at the thought. It’s more of a huff and a grin, really–anything more would jostle your arm.

“Y/n?” Kid asks, concerned.

“It’s just,” you glance at him, then back at the ceiling, smiling ruefully. “I wanted to be tough, if you can believe that. But I couldn’t manage it… Pitiful, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Kid scowls. “That pirate broke your arm and you still killed him.”

“Only because I didn’t feel it right away. It doesn’t count. When push came to shove, I couldn’t handle it at all. I’m a Kid Pirate–I should be tougher. And yet, I…” You blink, and the tears gathered at the corners of your eyes break free, running down your temples. “I didn’t have it in me.”

“Y/n…?”

You look between Kid and Killer. Kid’s worry is evident behind the tension in his face, and while Killer’s expression is hidden, there’s nothing in his body language to suggest he’s upset with you. Your smile wavers, chest getting tight. The next wave of tears has nothing to do with pain.

“Aren’t you ashamed of me?” Your voice cracks, as if you couldn’t be any more pathetic.

“Don’t,” Kid says stiffly. “Don’t do the self-pity thing now. It doesn’t suit you.”

“But I–”

“Look,” Killer says, “everyone’s different, with different tolerances for pain. You don’t need to be unfeeling to be a capable fighter.”

Easy for him to say–Killer had the highest pain tolerance in the crew. Still, you don’t miss the compliment, mentally clinging to it like it could redeem you.

“You think I’m a capable fighter?” you ask, voice small.

“I invited you onto my crew for a reason, okay?” Kid says. “I saw potential. I still see it. You’ve gotten stronger since we first met.” Kid looks away. “...I haven’t once regretted my decision.”

“Oh…” Self-doubt tells you that Kid’s just saying those things to make you feel better, but experience has you discarding the thought. You know him better than that. Kid has always meant what he said, he wouldn’t make such claims lightly. The words are real and sincere, threatening to make you cry harder, but you force it down. He’s never liked dealing with tears.

Kid won’t meet your eye. From your angle on the bed, you can see a blush spread across his cheeks, darker than before. Maybe that’s why he makes to leave, pushing his chair back and getting up, Killer following suit. Or maybe he just means to check on the crew. Regardless, a surge of objection rises in your chest, every bit as selfish and puerile as a child protesting their parents leaving them in daycare.

“You’re going?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

They pause, Kid turning back to you. “Do you want us to stay?”

You don’t look at him when you nod shallowly, ashamed. But you don’t want to hurt alone. Rationally, you know you’re going to be in pain for a long while, and they can’t be at your side the whole time. Still, if they’ll let you, then you’ll be self-centered for just a bit longer.

Kid and Killer sit back down.

“Thanks,” you say quietly. Then, even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” Kid grumbles. “I told you to knock that shit off.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. He could be so rough about it, but there was genuine care behind his refusing to let you wallow in self-pity.

Killer takes your hand. “Is this the first time you’ve been injured like this?” he asks.

You nod.

“Listen... Sometimes, when you’re hurt bad enough physically, it messes with your head, too,” Killer says. “You feel vulnerable and insecure. Helpless, even. So,” he squeezes your hand lightly, “it’s okay if you’re more sensitive than you normally would be. No one's going to hold it against you. You came out of the battle alive. That’s what matters.”

Damn him and his tenderness, you’re trying not to cry. You pull your hand away, lower lip wobbling, and take a shaky breath, holding it down. You glance at Kid. He’s staring hard at your broken arm. Suddenly his ire stops being transparent–just like when you first joined the crew, you’re completely unable to discern what he’s really thinking. All you see is the discontent, so close to disapproval that it makes you uncertain.

“Are you, um,” you say nervously, “are you mad at me?”

“No,” Kid says, but it comes out a bit stiff. “At least, not for the reason you think. I’m proud of you for taking out that pirate. He was twice your size and faster, but you still won.” He taps his nails against his metal hand. “Y/n… When Hip said you were really hurt, I feared the worst. I thought you’d been fatally injured.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you joke.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kid snaps, glaring. He’s gritting his teeth, eyes hard and angry, but then there’s a break, a crack in his expression. It’s just a glimpse, but for the first time, you see fear behind the fury. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Got it? Or I’ll break your other arm.”

Despite the harsh words, emotion swells in your chest, fuzzy and light. You feel yourself tearing up again. “Yes, captain.”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

You smile slightly. “Yes, captain.”

Kid leans back in his chair, arms crossed, scowl etched deep. You watch as Killer touches Kid’s arm briefly, reassuring. With the worst of the pain behind you comes the presence of mind to start overthinking, and you dive right in: They have each other. It’s clear that they care about you, but it will never be in the way you want. 

The ache in your arm seems fitting, a backdrop of physical pain behind the emotional. Liking Kid is stressful enough, but now that you were aware of your feelings for Killer, it was compounded, growing like a chemical reaction into something huge and overwhelming. As a trusted crewmate, you pretty much have front row seats to the small intimacies those two exchange. How are you supposed to go on watching and not be eaten alive by jealousy? 

Maybe you should leave. Maybe this was your sign that the good times had run out, and it was time to strike it out solo again. You don’t want to go–crushes aside, you were fond of the crew, having come to see them as family–but could you handle living with Kid and Killer now? The unrequited desire was already burrowing under your skin like a grass seed, threatening to travel and lodge deep into your heart. Cutting ties now would spare you more hurt in the long run.

But first you had to heal from this injury, something better done with the security of a crew protecting you.

Then, unprompted, Killer reaches over to wipe the sweat from your forehead, and you start reconsidering even that notion. If they were going to be gentle the entire recovery period, you were really gonna lose it. The compassion was too close to intimacy, a taste of what you couldn’t have. 

"The next few months are gonna blow," you say, the true meaning of the statement masked.

"Just wait until it starts itching under the cast," Killer says lightly.

"Ugh. And I'll hardly be able to move." You grimace. "I'll need help even with basic tasks… You're right, Killer, it does feel helpless."

"It'll be fine," Kid says. "You have us and the crew." 

He's still frowning, but you can read him again. Not that you need to with the frankness of his words.

"At least there's a bright side," you smile impishly, "if you're gonna be soft this whole time."

"Watch it," Kid warns, but his lip curls up just a bit. "Don't get used to it."

Too bad for him, you fully intend to abuse your power. It’ll be interesting to see how much you can get away with, and you might as well have some kind of outlet for these awful feelings in the meantime.

“Nah, I’m gonna enjoy it while I can,” you say, “because it’s not gonna happen another time. I’m gonna get even stronger, so I’ll never go through that again.” You wipe away the gathered tears with the back of your hand. “I’m gonna surpass even the shave technique. I’ll be uncatchable.”

Kid and Killer exchange glances–an impressive feat considering Killer’s mask, but that’s just the kind of wavelength they’re on–and then they look at you, Kid wearing one of his rare serious expressions. “I know the last half hour was rough, Y/n. But you won’t get any better as a fighter if fear is your motivator.”

That makes you pout, mostly because you know he’s right. Arguing that it had worked out for this long was pointless, because it really hadn’t. You only survived the fight with Kid years ago because of his whims, and today’s battle had ended in agony. You wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon, but maybe that was better. Maybe a reminder that you weren’t invulnerable was what you needed. So long as you didn’t succumb to fear, like Kid said.

“I guess it wasn’t entirely miserable,” you muse, thinking back to how Kid carried you to the ship. That was a lie–you were hurting far too badly to enjoy the contact–but the thought that it happened still made you kind of happy, in a messed up way. Maybe you were more touch-starved than you thought. “I got to be held. Can’t remember the last time I was that close to someone.”

Kid looks surprised, and then his expression slowly morphs into something smug, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. “If you wanted to be close to me, Y/n, you could have just asked.”

Your cheeks instantly flare hot, caught so off-guard all you can do is stare in dumb shock before you turn your head away. What the hell was he doing? Why would he say that? Now there was an ache in your chest as well as your arm.

“Is that what this was all about?” Kid continues gleefully. “Did you let yourself get hurt so your captain would come take care of you?”

No, no, no. Don’t do this to me. Regardless of what he meant by the teasing, it felt like a weight was sitting over your sternum. And really, he was such a fucking jerk, taking obvious pleasure in your flustered response. Honestly, why did you even like him?

“We’re right here.”

Your brain plays the memory back like a traitor, impressing the reason. Why did he have to be so damned nice to you? Why couldn’t he have been cold or stern or even harsh, like usual? This would have been so much easier if he just told you off for screaming, or called you a pussy or something, but no. He had to hold you and reassure you and now you didn’t know what to do.

“Stop it,” you say, but it comes out small and feeble. This was all too much, especially now. Killer had a point–you were in a delicate way mentally. The walls weren’t up, you couldn’t buffer any of these feelings. “Talk to me like that and I’ll leave.”

Kid pauses. “What do you mean, you’ll leave?”

“I’ll leave the crew.”

“What?!” Kid grabs the arms of his chair, leaning forward like he didn’t hear you right the first time.

“Slip?” Killer questions.

You avoid their eyes. “I can’t–I can’t do this. I can’t be around you if you’re going to be like… like that.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Kid demands.

“Slip, what’s wrong?” Killer asks. “Was it something we said?”

“No! I mean, yes!” you say, tugging at your hair with your good hand. “I mean… I…”

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Kid says hotly. “What the hell is your problem?” 

“I’m in love with you!” you shout. “That’s my fucking problem, Kid!”

Oops. Well. It was out now. Might as well go all-in. You cover your face as you add, “Killer, too. I love you both. I’m sorry.”

The shame settles like rot in your stomach, as nauseating as the physical pain was. There was no taking it back now. You expect shocked silence, or even Kid getting angry. 

What you don’t expect is Kid, as casually as if discussing the weather, responding, “Oh. Yeah, I know.”

It takes a minute to process what he said, mentally flipping the words over in an attempt to parse them. Your hand slowly drops from your face, and you fix him with a look that manages to be both pointed and baffled. “...What?”

“I already knew that,” Kid clarifies.

You stare a hole through him. “...What?”

“What exactly are you not getting? I’m telling you I already knew.”

“Fucking excuse me?!” It finally processes, crashing over you like a boiling wave, drenching and searing all at once. “Since when?!”

“Since we met, you idiot.”

Your jaw drops. He had known all this time? For three fucking years? He knew?

“You’re not a subtle person, Y/n,” Kid says, then grins. “You got really, really worked up when I caught you that one time. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“You knew?” You look between him and Killer, at a loss. “The entire time?”

“Y/n, the whole crew knows.”

“What?!” You sit up so quickly it jostles your injury, sending a hellish jolt of pain through your arm that makes you hiss.

“Easy,” Killer says, gently pushing your good shoulder to prompt you to lay back.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy!” you snap, but acquiesce, letting him push you back. “What the hell do you mean, you knew… The crew knows… Oh my god…”

“There, there,” Killer says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Anyway,” Kid says nonchalantly, “you don’t have permission to leave.”

Ordinarily, you would say 'I wasn't aware I needed it,' but you're currently too stunned to reply. All this time. And the crew knows.

What are you to make of that? Kid doesn’t look upset. Killer doesn’t sound upset. They’re fine with your crush? Did such things really not bother them, or did they… No. There was no way. You can't wrap your head around the implications. There was no way. Right? Because if they liked you back, wouldn’t they have said something by now? 

You have to find out. Living on this ship with that hanging over you is beyond what you can handle. And with months of recovery ahead of you, now would be as good a time as any to shoot your shot.

But you only get out "Do you–" before your voice catches, the query dying in your throat. You can't say it, can't bring yourself to ask. Something in your head is as broken as your arm, refusing to form the words. 

Kid and Killer are listening, waiting for you to continue, but you shake your head. “Never mind.” 

The answer to that question would hurt, and you’ve had enough of that for a good, long while. But without it comes the uncertainty, which almost feels worse. Unable to reconcile how you feel and exhausted from the aftermath of the adrenaline, you find you just want to be close to them again. Maybe you’re too much of a coward to ask the crucial question. But you aren’t above taking advantage of your current state to seek out a bit of comfort.

"Back when I was a kid," you say, "and I had to go to the doctor, my guardian would take me to get a treat afterwards. Like ice cream or something."

"Yeah?" Kid says, grinning wide. "Is there something you want from me? What could it possibly be, I wonder?"

Suddenly you're tongue-tied. You didn’t expect him to cotton on so fast, but underestimating Kid was why you had lost to him in the first place three years ago.

When you don't respond, Kid rests his chin on his metal hand, having the gall to look even more smug. "You need to say it out loud, Y/n."

Fucking jerk. Fine. "Um…" you start, fresh heat warming your face, "well, uh… Can I have, uh… A hug…?"

Kid looks surprised at that for some reason, raising a brow. What was he expecting? Still, he rises from his seat, and you sit up in anticipation. This was enough for now. Just to be held, one more time. You could figure out the rest later.

“That’s really all you want?” Kid says, looking at you like he can’t figure you out. He leans over you, towering, your height difference exacerbated with you being seated. “A hug?”

“...Yeah?” you respond hesitantly, unsure of what he means by the question.

Kid regards you for a moment, searching your eyes. Then he smirks. “I’ll do you one better.”

Before you can register the meaning of his words, Kid tilts your chin up, leans in, and presses his lips to yours in a firm and intent kiss.

Suffice to say, your brain promptly short-circuits. For a moment, not a single neuron fires. Then there’s a storm of activity, a thousand different thoughts and feelings screaming all at once. At the same time, a soft sort of tingling spreads throughout your whole body, fluttering and warm, so pleasant that you could cry. And, for just a second, like something out of a fairy tale, you don’t feel any of the pain in your arm. (You can never, ever tell this to Kid–he will hold it over your head for the rest of your life.)

While you’re too shocked to reciprocate, once Kid pulls away, you find yourself leaning forward, chasing the contact. He notices, if his widening smirk is any indication.

“Better than a hug, right?” he says, self-satisfied.

“Um,” you respond cleverly, still bewildered by the action. “Uh… Kid? Do you… Do you like me?”

Kid pinches the bridge of his nose. “Y/n, I literally just kissed you. What the fuck do you think?”

“Wait, shut up. Hold on. Wait.” The fact that Kid doesn’t react to your telling him to shut up is a testament to his going easy on you, and you make a mental note of it for later. “If you liked me back, why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been flirting with you for years!”

Your eyes bug out at him. “You have?”

“For someone who thinks so quickly in battle, it’s amazing how slow you are on the uptake,” Kid says, exasperated. You frown, because rude, but he keeps going. “At first, when you didn’t respond, I thought you weren’t interested. But the way you acted around me and Killer proved otherwise. It was confusing as hell! Then, a few weeks ago, the crew was at a tavern, and you were approached by that bounty hunter–you remember?”

“Yeah… What about him?”

“He started flirting real heavy, and it all went right over your head. It was incredible to watch. I realized then that you weren’t sending me mixed signals on purpose, but that you were really just that fucking oblivious.”

You blink. “He was flirting with me?”

“He bought you a drink!” Kid shouts, throwing his arms out in frustration and nearly knocking over another bed with his metal one. Killer covers his mask over where his mouth would be, as if that would help him suppress a laugh.

“I thought he was trying to sucker me out of information.”

“He was trying to sucker you out of your clothes.”

“Oh… So that’s why you nearly killed him.”

You stare down at your lap as you try to process all the new information. Kid liked you back. Not only that, but he had been attempting to show it pretty much since the beginning. You knew you were bad with feelings, but the fact that it took a severe injury for this to come to light was maybe a little concerning. And what about Killer? He wasn’t nearly as open as Kid, so even if he had been showing similar signs, you would have never picked up on it.

“Does, uh,” you say, looking up at them, “does Killer also…?”

“Yeah,” Kid says, “Killer too, though he never flirted with you over it.”

“I kind of did,” Killer speaks up, “here and there, but I stopped when it seemed like you weren’t into it.”

You think back, trying to recall any times where that might have happened. While Killer seemed outwardly stoic, he was surprisingly affable toward crewmates, so you never thought twice about any lingering touches or supportive words coming from him.

“Um… Wow. I’m sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to be confusing. I guess I just never thought it was possible that anyone would like me that way.”

“Why would you think that?” Killer sounds genuinely confused, and you tense, the question dredging up a host of bad memories. That was one traumatic can of worms you didn’t need to open, so you just shrug it off. 

“Uh, no reason…”

“You’ve never been in a relationship?” Kid asks.

“Not really,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. All of this was new territory, the revelation that they were both interested leaving you stumped. “...What do I even do now?”

“Whatever you want.”

You stare at Kid, then glance away, cheeks growing warm in embarrassment before you even say it. “...I want you to kiss me again.”

“You really think you deserve it after all that you’ve put us through?” Kid grins, but despite what he says, he leans right back in to grant your wish.

The second kiss is softer, even tender. Your eyes close as you cup his cheek, and his hand covers yours. That fluttering sensation returns, prickling across your skin like you’ve sunk into a warm bath, enveloping and soothing.

When Kid breaks free this time, you can’t help but look at Killer afterwards, the longing in your expression making your thoughts evident.

“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Kid accuses, but you can tell he’s teasing.

“No,” you say brightly, safe in the knowledge that he won’t retaliate while you’re injured. Or so you thought–Kid pinches your cheek (with his flesh hand, at least,) harder and harder until you apologize. You rub your sore cheek, pouting. “I swear I’m not complaining or anything, but, uh… You don’t want to, Killer?”

Killer turns his head away, quiet for a moment. “...I will… Once you’ve recovered, and the cast comes off.” He looks your way again. “So you have the motivation to heal quickly.”

Later on, when you’ve gotten to know him more intimately, you’ll look back and realize that the ‘motivation’ line was complete bullshit, and that he was just covering up his shyness. But right then, you accept him at his word, though you’re a bit disappointed.

“Sure. Okay.” You lay back in the bed, a smile slowly stretching your lips. “I can live with that.”

Today was a one-two punch in staggering experiences. First you went through the worst physical pain you’d felt yet, then Kid revealed that he and Killer both liked you back. You were ecstatic, of course–but the fact that you never had to go through breaking your arm to learn of it made you more than a little mad at yourself.

“We can talk about all this later,” Kid says. “You need to rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kid looks at you sharply, and you get a funny feeling in your gut. Did… Did he like that? What a stuck-up asshole. God, you love him. Which is why you’re going to use that against him later.

“Try and get some sleep, if you can. The next island we’re stopping at has a pharmacy. Once we raid it and restock our medical supplies, you won’t be hurting so much, so just hang on until then. Okay?” Kid touches your cheek.

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to show how giddy the simple action makes you.

But given that he knew of your attraction all this time, he can probably tell anyway.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!” You glare at the crewmates sitting around your bed. The doctor will only let a few people in to see you at a time, so right now, it’s just Heat, Wire, and Quincy, the latter currently signing your cast. “Some nakama you are! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It would have interfered with the betting pool,” Wire says. 

“Betting pool?!”

“After a while,” Heat adds, “it just became kind of a social experiment.”

“Betting pool?!” you reiterate.

“Relax,” Quincy says, capping the marker. “If you get worked up, the doc will kick us out.”

“Fine.” You scowl, but relent, shoulders drooping.

“So how’d it go down?” Heat asks. “Did you tell Kid first, or did he tell you?”

“I said it first.”

“Damn,” Wire mutters, fishing a thick wad of cash out of his pocket and passing it to Heat.

Your eyes widen at the blatant exchange. “I will fucking strangle you both!”

“With one hand?” Wire asks, and the three of them burst into laughter.

You throw your medicine bottle at his head.

After months of waiting, you’re eager to finally have the cast off, but a part of you will miss looking at everyone’s signatures. Heat even drew the crew’s jolly roger on it.

“Some pain and stiffness afterwards is normal. Your range of motion will be limited. After months of being immobile, the muscles are weakened,” the doctor explains. “You are to wait one week before any exercise or heavy physical activity with that arm. Understand?”

The moment the cast is removed and the doctor releases you, you go find Killer on the ship.

“Hey, Killer!” You wave at him with your newly-healed arm, though you find the action is more difficult than you expected, just like the doctor said. “Cast is off, big guy. Time to pay up.”

When Killer doesn’t respond right away, you think maybe he’s forgotten what he said months ago. He looks around at the other crewmates on deck, then takes your hand and wordlessly leads you elsewhere.

“Killer?” you ask as you follow, but he remains silent.

Killer takes you all the way to the captain’s cabin, closing the door behind the both of you. Kid is currently there, sitting at his desk and looking over a map, head turning to you as soon as you enter.

“Everything okay?” Kid asks, then, noticing your cast is off, he smirks. “Oh, I see. Went for it first thing, huh, Y/n? You must have really been looking forward to it.”

“Shut up, Kid!” you say, face growing hot.

Kid rises from his seat, coming to stand behind you, and rests his flesh hand on your shoulder, squeezing in threat. “Careful, Y/n. You don’t have that injury to protect you anymore.”

Despite the warning, something about the way he says it, voice low and smooth, makes your stomach knot.

“Alright, alright, fine. Yes, I’ve been looking forward to it, okay? I’ve been thinking about it every day since,” you admit, swallowing. “But, Killer, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Killer is silent once more. You scan him anxiously, trying to get a read on his body language. He seems tense, so it takes you by surprise when he quietly says, “I want to.”

“Oh.”

Killer steps closer, right in front of you, so you’re sandwiched between the captain and first mate. Belatedly, you realize he’ll have to take off his mask, which you didn’t think about before. You’re not sure that even Heat or Wire have seen him without it, and you’re suddenly nervous that you’re violating some boundary by asking him to kiss you.

Then, Kid moves his hand from your shoulder to your face, covering your eyes from behind. You hear a faint noise like rustling hair that must be Killer removing his mask. Unable to see, you can only wait, heart pounding. It feels like forever before you feel his breath on your face, not making contact yet–he’s hesitating. And then, finally, after months of patience, he closes the gap, soft lips capturing your own.

Just like that, all your nerves melt away, fading behind the static that seems to spark through your body. You reach out for Killer blindly, hands landing in his hair before they slide down to hold his face, pulling as if you could draw him even closer. He sighs into your mouth in response, making your knees grow weak.

After far too short a time, Killer pulls away, and your grip on his face tightens in reluctance. 

“Wait, wait,” you mumble, “again. Please, I–”

Your protest is muffled by Killer’s mouth closing over yours again, swallowing your words and your sanity all at once. He’s firmer this time, indelicate and needy, large hands grabbing hold of your waist. The little whine that slips out of you is involuntary, and you hear Kid chuckle behind you.

Eventually, Killer breaks away, leaving the both of you stunned and flushed with endorphins.

“You have no idea, Y/n,” Kid whispers into your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck. “How much he’s talked about this.”

“Like you haven’t been talking about them?” Killer says defensively. “The sheer amount of grievances I’ve had to listen to the last few years… Where do I even begin? First, there was–”

“Okay!” Kid cuts him off, uncharacteristically flustered. “I get it.”

You snicker, and Kid immediately wraps his metal hand around your hip, gripping just tightly enough so as not to be painful, but still securely enough so that you’re trapped in place. It’s huge in comparison to you, the pinky sinking into your thigh while the index presses into your stomach. You gasp, going rigid, the position intimately familiar–this was the exact way that Kid had caught you three years ago.

“You know, Y/n,” Kid says, his tone soft with warning, “you’ve been a real piece of work these last few months. Smart-mouthed. Insolent. Talking back to me. Thinking you were so safe because of your injury.” He’s speaking into your ear again, breath hot on your skin, and your heart starts to race. “I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted, Y/n, because I’ve been keeping track. Every comment, every cheeky little quip, I committed to memory, waiting for this moment. I think it’s time I paid it back. Wouldn’t you agree, Killer?”

“Definitely,” Killer responds without hesitation.

Heat courses through your body, collecting at the apex of your thighs. Still blinded by Kid, you can’t see Killer move, but you feel his rough fingers tracing your throat a moment later.

The third time around, you are perfectly okay with not having lived up to your epithet.

[badpancakelol]

“Have a nice day!”

Eddie doesn’t hope he has a nice day. The guy was a dick and tried to short him on credits, despite being so obviously well off. Like, c’mon, man. Not even trying to hide the Nabooian silk robes? Or the Coruscanti accent? Offhandedly mentioning that his girlfriend was a senator? Just because he works in the middle of a shit ship-port on Tatooine doesn’t mean he’s thick. He wipes the grease off his hands onto the already-dirty rag, but there’s no use in using precious water on a midday clean. Instead, Eddie dabs the sweat from his brow, and contemplates buzzing his hair short again.

Nabooian. Silk. Thousand threaded, cool-to-the-touch, Eddie’s-favourite-colour, Nabooian silk. The guy had to be taunting him. Had to be. In this heat? In Eddie’s port? With his favourite colour?

(Does it matter that it wasn’t his favourite colour until a certain someone had shown him in-colour holos of the fields? No. No it does not).

And then he had some wannabe bounty hunter from his block try and threaten him to fix his ship, which? Hello? Does Mr Blonde Mullet really think that threatening Eddie is gonna make him want to fix his shit faster? I’ll break your hand if you so much as put a scratch on her. It’s not like he can even do anything to hurt Eddie. A broken hand slows down the work, as does a fractured leg, or a black eye, or a concussion, or a blaster burn, or a vibro-wound, or a—

Ah. You get the point. All bark and no bite, and, dank farrik did he have a stupid amount of bark. Enough bark to fill the entire four hours it took to fix his hunk of junk. 

So, really, you can’t blame him for the mood that he’s been in all day (or, you could try, but if your engine takes a little bit longer to retune, or your fuel is a little more expensive than normal, well. Have fun trying to trek your way into the shitshow of the other side of town), when he turns to find the stupidly shiny Naboo royal starship spluttering its way in. Because, seriously? What the hell has he done to the people of Naboo to deserve this?

Eddie thumps his head against the makeshift table, shouts before the ramp has even extended to let whoever-the-fuck out of the rich ship, “We’re closed!”

The sharp click of heeled boots grate on Eddie’s brain, and is only dulled when he watches the way they sink slightly into the ground through his curtain of hair. 

“I don’t need any work done.” Rich Naboo Man says, and— 

He knows that voice.

“I just need a place to park for a little while — I’m visiting a friend around here, actually.”

Eddie lifts his head, peeks up at the person in front of him. The person who is very much Naboo royalty, who is wearing those stupid bright red robes, and the stupid headpiece that he said was too heavy and impractical, with makeup that he said highlighted his broken nose too much, is shuffling out of the starship. His head is held high, and there’s a crease in his brow that’s been the same since they were stupid foundlings with Eddie reading out the aurebesh on the flimsi that their teachers handed them.

No. Fucking. Way. 

“Steve?” 

“Eddie?” His head moves so fast that the jewels dangling from the headpiece almost whip him in the face. And then Steve is shuffling forwards, back straight and face smoothed to a soothing smile, before he’s already apologising. “I’m sorry that I didn’t make it on time. There were duties that I had to attend to, and they ran longer than—”

He bolts from his seat, taking long strides in his ratty grey jumpsuit before he’s caught Steve around the middle twirling them around, because he’s waiting fifty-seven rotations for this. Fifty-seven. If Steve says one more damned apology Eddie is quite literally going to explode. The laugh that Steve lets out is so hearty and so full — warmer than both of Tattoooine’s suns — and, Force, if Eddie has to go another almost-two-months without seeing him, he is quite literally going to overthrow Naboo.

“Hey! It’s okay, Hop. You can put the blaster down.” Steve places his hands onto Eddie’s shoulders and— did he hear that right?

“King Harrington—”

“—Please, Hop, not while I’m off-duty—”

“Steve, the guy ran at you and hauled you up.”

Steve turns around, and Eddie feels like, then. His royal robes create a silhouette of patience and strength, and tower over Eddie, if you count in the headpiece. There is a part of Eddie that whispers how he should very much be letting go of Steve, because his guard still has his blaster aimed at the only bits of him that stick out from behind Steve’s ornate dress. But it’s been so long, and there’s a larger part of his soul that says that he never wants to let go.

“Hopper,” Steve says, and Eddie can just feel the commanding tone of voice bleed through his usual casualness. “This is who I was meeting.”

Eddie lifts his head over Steve’s shoulder, and ignores the small huff he gets in return for the grease he undoubtedly just smeared across Steve’s very expensive, thousand thread Nabooian silk robes. Maybe it’ll finally give him a reason to change out of them. Hopper lowers his blaster, shoves it into the holster with too much and too little force without-a-capital-F all at once. If Eddie was a lesser man he would have snorted. Or, if Eddie was a lesser man he would have let the guard hear his snort.

“This is the guy you’re courting?” “Force, you make us sound old.” Eddie sighs at the same time Steve full-heartedly responds “Yes.”

The guard — Hopper — just pinches his brow and adjusts the hat on his head. “Well, I can’t say anything for your taste in men, but at least he has a respectable job. And he gets paid.”

“Stevie’s still dealing with the Naboo’s Royal Pocket Money?”

“Don’t remind me.” Steve says, moving a swift motion so that he holds Eddie’s hand underneath one of the long red sleeves of his gown.

When Eddie turns to look at Steve, he’s already turned. There’s a mellowed out look on his face that Eddie reads as is your work finished? Let’s clean up and lie around and do nothing but be near each other. And who is Eddie to deny such a request?

“Well,” Eddie says, in all the hospitality that a man from Tatooine can muster, “We best not keep you any longer.”

Hop hums in the way that Wayne used to when he knew that Eddie was just trying to weasel his way out of things. Maybe it was just one of those sixth senses that fathers-who-aren’t-biologically-fathers gain when their children start dating. Or maybe Eddie’s just obvious.

“I can give you a rundown of your ship in the morning. I think you’ve dislodged something in your engine — I could hear it rattling before you even landed.”

Steve tugs on Eddie’s arm, lip quirked up at the corners, and crows feet showing through ornate red and white makeup. “Eds, there’s nothing wrong—”

“Stevie, I love you, but you’re terrible at lying.”

[aiyexayen]

helloo!!!!!!!! itse me from ao3 (oh that rhymes!) im a chatterbox as well, i love long comment/reblog chains and generally talking about stuff im passionate for a normal amount, and after reading your reply i had a question that i thought, why not drop into your inbox and ask you (if you want) to share a bit of your process behind writing The Only Place You Wanna Be!!!! my initial question is actually that im wondering whether at any point you were uncomfortable, like, exhaustingly uncomfortable when tackling gx/wkx/zzs as a rarepair. because when i write and im trying to break some mental barriers of my own i oftentimes need to take very long breaks frequently to rest. uve written rare ships before but mentioned in your reply that it stretched u to write this fic, despite becoming passionate along the way. what about the fic challenged you, what is it that was difficult to explore? and what had u be very enthusiastic about? also, when i was reading the fic i kept wondering how u were gonna handle gx/cwn, in what manner u where going to address it (if at all), and i really liked what u settled on, but did u have different ideas for it? do u have ideas for how it might look like when cwn returns home alone? (if u would like to share) im wondering if gx is now firmly in the wenzhou camp or if she might be going to experience her romance with cwn later too? i think that could work really well, because he is her peer and has different views and thoughts about the world and society at large than wenzhou, which i think is still smth gx would/could be drawn to. like, wenzhou are very jaded, they have to relearn how to love and trust etc, and gx in a way has to as well. in canon her cute romance with cwn is a way for her to experience mundane young adulthood. do u think thats smth that could still happen, that would still attract her, and that would fit into the new dynamic of the AU uve written?

hello hello!! i also love talking about things a normal amount so you've come to the right place and i'm so glad you asked. [chin in hands] i would be completely delighted to talk about the only place you wanna be, because it's truly one of my favourite stories i've written thus far.

first--was i exhaustingly uncomfortable at any point writing this fic? i honestly wasn't! it wasn't an 'easy' ship to write, i.e. one i'm very comfortable in the dynamics of and don't have to think overly hard about. but i was not particularly uncomfortable, either (i do know what you mean, though--i've had ships before that have made me uncomfortable and i've had to really sit down and rest between wrestling through my thoughts on it)

hands down the biggest thing i struggled with was the question "what the heck does zhou zishu find so compelling about gu xiang?" not because she's not absolutely charming, but because zhou zishu is not easily charmed.

the wen kexing facet was easy--the way he and gu xiang grew up together and saved each other from the horrors of gui gu puts them in such a state of enmeshment, their bond so full of complex emotional tangles and twists that all i really have to do is tweak the strands and bam! ship.

but zhou zishu and gu xiang? i had to really sit with that facet, turn it over in my mind like a rotisserie chicken, because anytime i've put them in proximity before it's just been this volatile-yet-fond bickering that doesn't really go further, or get them closer. zhou zishu is prickly, and aloof, and only diverted from his self-destructive bent by one wen kexing. and in this au, he already quite contentedly has said wen kexing. what does he need some charming girl for? what has he ever needed a charming girl for?

i thought gu xiang could easily find a whole host of things in zhou zishu to like and admire, many of them not dissimilar to what wen kexing sees in him. but how the heck would they come together? how would it go beyond gu xiang's crush on this super impressive, stupidly beautiful guy?

i took a hard look at my other most favourite ships with zhou zishu (han ying, xie'er, jing beiyuan, ye baiyi, liu qianqiao) and sorted through what things i thought he might care about in a person, outside of "is too stubborn to let him push them away" at least. i realised i really had to face my gu xiang and interrogate her more serious side, ultimately, as much for the sake of figuring out the ship vibe i wanted as for writing her as a compelling pov character. because for a character like gu xiang, a good portion of her seriousness happens outside of her conscious awareness of it. it's all background noise against which the bright flares of her imperiousness shines very distractingly.

but really, she learned from the best; her silliness and her brashness and the whip of her tongue are just another version of wen kexing's smooth flirtations and gently waving fan. she's clumsy and charming while he's elegant and disarming, but aside from him being a thousand times more intentional about it, they're not altogether that different of masks. after all, gu xiang was taught to kill first and ask questions later, no matter who may or may not be innocent. she grew up with the firmly-seated knowledge that she was not human. and even when she was a literal baby, she smiled when she was hurt because to do anything less was to risk being abandoned.

and, most damningly, gu xiang cares. she cares deeply, and thoroughly, and she gets attached even when she shouldn't, even when she knows better. she takes to humanity so beautifully.

and i realised that if i put someone like that into zhou zishu's life, into zhou zishu's once-abandoned home, and let her breathe life into the place, i could make my problem *his* problem and that suited me much better.

it's really two sides of the same coin, what i wrestled with the most to get into shape and what i was enthusiastic about. like with most rare ship challenges, i find it compelling simply to do said wrestling. i enjoy sitting down and hammering out the details of character dynamics--what they find compelling about one another, what draws their eye, how they fall in together, what makes them stay. or not, as the case may be sometimes.

i was excited to dig into the challenge of this ship and this fic, because i knew once i started getting the pieces hewn into shape it would be very satisfying. i was excited to tackle a siji arc au that was a new flavour, and write something really properly from gu xiang's pov that explored her arc of stepping onto the path to the human world through a new angle and from the inside.

i was particularly excited to dig my fingers into her relationship with wen kexing--not even really from the ship perspective (i mean, you've read this story, it's almost not about the shippiness of the ship at all until the very end) but just them.

i have a lot of ideas for someday-fics where gu xiang is more present in the plot and i get to explore her and wen kexing's relationship, in any capacity, more intensely. i have so so so many feelings about the two of them, no matter which hats you want to put on their dynamic. and this fic was really my first larger-scale opportunity to do some of that examining and reveling.

they were just two kids in a world of ghosts, clinging to one another until they could get out. a teenaged boy half-raising a little girl, full of rage and spite and the confidence and inexperience of youth and the wholesale abandonment of humanity, teaching her how to eschew it from an even younger age than himself, teaching her how to be a killer to keep her safe--and then playing games with her behind closed doors, making snowmen for her when she cried, letting himself be silly and warm in spite of everything. they're a master and the maidservant that attends his whims. they're a gui gu guzhu and his right hand that stands ready at attention to keep every secret and enact his plans on the jianghu.

they're so many things--each other's first priority, most trusted person, with the kind of knowing that only comes from years and years. the loyalty. the love. the way wen kexing's plan always made room for getting gu xiang out into the world to live a human life as its ultimate goal, the way he couldn't help but continue to lean on her assistance and keep her close and project his own fears even as he kept trying to push her away into that human life he wanted for her. the way he needs her, the way he tries to push her away anyway and rescue her from the fire that he plans to let consume him. the way he's so proud of her and so terrified of how similar she is to him at the same time. the way she's grown up into a better woman than he could have hoped, not in spite of him but because of him, and the strength she shows in being able to embrace even the parts of them both that built them into who they are, in a way wen kexing has never been able to.

it drives me absolutely banana pancakes sometimes until all i can do is wail and point at them emphatically.

anyway, a fic in which i got to explore gu xiang choosing to stay at her zhuren's side over choosing to follow his orders--letting her desires override her duty, letting one kind of loyalty and one aspect of their dynamic rule over another--in which wen kexing has to gradually come to terms with his plans for her being utterly and completely foiled, come to terms with the fact that she isn't rejecting the human path but instead is absolutely going to keep walking it while dragging him down along it with her, that all his hopes and dreams for her are coming true except with him in the picture. ugh. i'm legitimately going to cry just talking about it lmfao. which is another very good reason this fic happened from gu xiang's pov.

i'm going to put a header here because this has gotten unconscionably long and you also asked about cao weining. so. here we go.

regarding cao weining

i would like to start off by saying he is my precious bean and i love him. but as much as i like cao weining and gu xiang together in canon, they are not otp material for me. i find it quite easy to break them up, largely because they are young and their bond at first is pretty devoid of genuine understanding or deep connection.

cao weining's persistence, a soft mirror to wen kexing's, and his graceful handling of a traumatised ghost, a soft mirror to zhou zishu's, both pay off in the long run. but it's not too hard for me to conceive a world where they didn't.

in this particular au, i think cao weining will always have done much to teach gu xiang about being human, and about what she wants in that regard. and cao weining will always probably be a little bit in love with her, because he strikes me as the kind of person who's a little bit in love with all his friends, and still holds a little bit of a candle for every person he's ever fallen for before since his very first crush.

but one of the things i like most about writing, particularly au's, is the nature of choice, and how the choices we make define us. it's not just that you can become someone different, it's that you are always, constantly becoming someone different. and at every stage of yourself, you look back and the road you took may seem perfectly logical, may seem like of course that's who you were going to become, because you only see the road you've taken to get there. but if you took a different path, if you made a different choice, and then each choice based off that choice, and looked back, wouldn't you feel the same way about that road? that's the way i like to write my au's.

so in this case, gu xiang didn't make that first crucial choice to be with cao weining instead of wen kexing. she didn't dutifully listen to orders, and let him say goodbye. she didn't let that distance from her zhuren, that closeness with cao weining, define her, and she didn't make subsequent choices based off that one, leading her down the road of canon. she didn't keep choosing cao weining--didn't choose to not only be with him but to be like him, to go back for shen shen to save gao xiaolian, to openly confess her desire to be human with him and be the kind of human that she thinks could stand at his side as his partner. still feeling that love, that loyalty, for wen kexing, but allowing love and loyalty to cao weining to grow up alongside it as the months go by.

instead, she chose wen kexing. she chose to follow him and stay close to him, even going against his wishes, against his orders. she chose to get involved in his new life with zhou zishu and zhang chengling, in all their daily intricacies instead. to make zhou zishu living or not into her problem, too. to make their home her home, and then defend it.

i'm being so long-winded about this, my apologies, i just love tracing all these little paths out, because i do so much of this thinking when i'm writing and it never gets said anywhere XD this isn't even really what you asked. but i guess, the conclusion of it is, to this end, no, i didn't really think of any other way their relationship could go at this point than to split here.

cao weining's loyalty to his sect being compromised in favour of staying with gu xiang *at* siji shanzhuang is an interesting concept, but it feels considerably less flexible of a choice than gu xiang's, and ultimately, this fic wasn't about him, so i was content to let him choose his sect first here. he does so reluctantly, but since he has that loyalty to his sect, he can only understand gu xiang's loyalty in turn, and part with that understanding, a little bittersweet but with his optimistic hope to reunite someday in better conditions when all this is over.

and i do fully think that they will reunite. but in that time, they'll have each done an awful lot of growing and changing. you really hit the nail on the head there, that gu xiang's romance with cao weining is a way for her to experience a mundane young adulthood, and take that path to growth together with him.

in a lot of ways, i think she's essentially forfeited the possibility of doing that in this au. it strikes me a bit like an imperial court drama--she had the choice to run away with her young lad, to be a new bride with a new groom, young lovers regarded as such by the narrative and the people around them, given space to indulge in this youth and build their own concept of a household together and grow up into the world at their own pace. and her other choice was to be inducted into a noble lord's household as his second wife, to enter into a space that already has define edges and considerable growth under its belt, and to grow up a bit faster into the responsibilities of her station, with the trade-off of, perhaps, a bit more security.

and sometimes--most of the time--the story is indeed about the young woman running away into freedom and romance. and this story is the alternate path.

by the time gu xiang meets cao weining again, she will practically be the lady of siji shanzhuang--something more than a housekeeper and less than a wife. i don't think she'll have had to grow up too fast for comfort, i mean, have you seen zhou zishu's sheer capacity for mischief? but i do think she'll have transitioned out of the phase of endless possibility that leaving gui gu afforded her, and into a place where she feels more secure in what she wants and who she's becoming. she has a place to belong, and responsibilities to live up to that go beyond the whims of a volatile zhuren.

and in turn, by the time cao weining meets gu xiang, he will have had to face the entirety of the revelation of her ghost-ness without her there as a counterpoint. without even the comfort of having gotten to know her so much better to lean back on to explain his disquiet and doubts. (i actually have a little oneshot i kind of want to write about him running into shen shen in that town, without gu xiang to pull him away)

he'll have faced the rest of the battles to come side by side with his sect, and have needed to find someone else, perhaps even there among his shixiongdi, to lean on. the du xie attack, the perceived betrayal of his shifu. it's a lot. maybe he'll have found some renewed place in his sect through that hardship, without gu xiang there presenting a clear way out. or perhaps he'll choose to leave, but wander alone. he has a lot of choices to make, still, and anything could happen.

but either way, by the time the two of them meet up again, they'll be very different people than they could once have been to one another, even if they're still very much themselves in all the ways that count. if they have any kind of romance, it will necessarily be more grown up.

he is, though, still more gu xiang's peer than either wen kexing or zhou zishu, and i don't think that cao weining has nothing to attract her. i think she definitely has the need for peers that can see eye to eye with her.

wen kexing and zhou zishu ride the generational line between all the horrors of the previous generation's grudges and the potential of the coming generation's healing past them. but for all gu xiang was raised in gui gu and suffered for it, she was also sheltered in a lot of ways by wen kexing. and she has a particular brand of optimism that someone like cao weining (and like gao xiaolian for that matter) can match. and while chengling can match it, too, i have distinctly other plans for him in this au.

i think it would actually be really sweet if gu xiang and cao weining and gao xiaolian end up quite close, once everything is said and done. and if this occasionally involves little trips to see one another in which she spends nearly as much time in bed with one or the other of them as she does at whatever restaurant cao weining has raved about in his letters lately or playing hide-and-seek with gao xiaolian's children, well, who's to say?

as long as she comes back home to wenzhou, how can they mind? they probably get off on rewriting the poetry of marks on her skin to fit the shape of their own lips, the dorks. not like she's any better either, the way she'd learn to taunt them and goad them about it right in front of all the disciples' salads all evening. pff.

anyway. i've been going on for ages and i'm not even going to go back and proofread this because i'm lazy. i hope some of this was entertaining at least, and feel free to reply more! though, as you see, asking questions is dangerous and you never know how long, and redundant, and irrelevant the answers might be XD

[mysteriouslover1516]

Sherlock Holmes (Part 1)

(X-reader story based on the BBC version of Sherlock and characters [character name is chosen, but the pronoun you is used]. This is my take on what could happen in season five of Sherlock. I also shipped John and Molly in this version.)

"You have a sister?!" The tall man asks, completely astonished.

Your brother, John Watson, laughs. "Caught you there, didn't I?"

The man looks at you from under his black curly hair, and his blue eyes meet yours. "He has a sister!" He states.

You chuckle while blushing slightly, "Yes, I would know. I am Syrena Watson, the younger sister of John by three years."

"How did I not deduct this?!" The man shakes his head with a smile.

John clears his throat, "Shouldn't you introduce yourself now?" He says giving the man a meaningful stare.

"Sherlock Holmes," he says. "What brings you back to London?"

You feel your heart rate rise,"I'm getting away from a bad relationship."

"Your eyes hold a certain sense of sorrow in them, betrayal perhaps? And I can't help but notice your clothes have been repeatedly worn, meaning you left as soon as you could without any other supplies or belongings." Sherlock says and then looks away as if bored.

John sighs, "Sherlock, I warned you about this. She is still sensitive about this." He says as he wraps an arm protectively around you.

You try to smile, "Wow, Mr. Holmes. You certainly live up to your reputation of being a great detective." 

John was right, you still were hurt and frightened in a way about your break-up, but you hated letting people besides your brother see your emotions.

Sherlock sighs, "I tried my best, John. But so long has gone by before I could deduct something worthwhile, besides the butler who murdered the maid." He shrugs absent-mindly.

“Sherlock!” John reprimands. “What did I tell you?”

“You solved a murder?” You ask, stupidly.

Sherlock sighs, “How dull is your sister, John? She is almost as bad as you.”

John frowns, “Please try to be civil!”

“Mr. Sherlock, tell me more about the case.” You ask, anything about mysteries was interesting to you. You were a novelist and real life mysteries were always good inspiration for your books.

Sherlock stops, “Oh, great. Another blogger, are you going to over dramatize my work, too?”

“That’s it, come on, Syrena.” John scowls at Sherlock. “We don't have to listen to his degrading comments.”

You smirk and walk off, arm in arm with your brother, “He doesn't seem all that bad.”

John smiles, “You haven’t had to spend twenty-four hours with him.”

“Mom and dad send you their hellos,” You say, randomly.

Your parents lived in the United States and tried to come to London at least once a year to see John. Now both of their kids were gonna be living here. Your parents were sad you decided to leave the states, but they were glad that John and you would be there to look out for one another.

John smiles at the thought, both of you were extremely close to your parents and you loved them dearly. “I mean to call them more often, gosh I’m forgetful.” He berates himself.

“They understand you’re busy, John. Maybe we can call them tonight, maybe even on skype?”

“Great idea!” John smiles, then he wraps his arm over your shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here, Syrena. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Thanks for letting me move in with you.” You grin.

John’s face suddenly falls, “Um, Syrena, there’s something I forgot to tell you.”

“Oh?” You ask in a slightly suspicious tone.

“I live in a flat with another roommate.”

“Is there enough room for me then?” You ask, confused.

“Well, of course, but he doesn’t know you’re staying with us. I haven’t told him yet.” John smiles, sheepishly.

“Is he nice though?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure of why John was being so mysterious.

“I think you should decide that yourself. You already met him.”

You immediately rack your mind for all the new faces you’ve seen and the people behind them. Was it the worker at the coffee shop? John had called him by name and the man seemed friendly. The cab driver also was nice though and John had talked to him almost the whole way to where you met Sherlock in the park……..

“It’s Sherlock,” You state more than ask.

“Please don’t hurt me,” John teases as he hides his face behind his arms.

You crack a smile, “Well, at least I’ll have some inspiration for my mystery novel!”

John laughs and drops his hands to his sides, “Just don’t copy my blog. I have a lot of followers on it, but Sherlock doesn’t approve.” He rolls his eyes.

“You haven’t told him that I’m moving in with you?!” You ask with your mouth wide open from shock.

John shrugs, “He won’t mind. There are three rooms and the third one is rarely used.”

You shake your head at your brother, “Oh, John. I hope this works out.”

You and John head over to 221b Baker Street and John leads you up the staircase and to an apartment door. “Welcome to our flat!” He unlocks the door and pushes it open.

You walk inside, carrying the backpack that held the only possessions you brought.

The living room was the first room you walked into when you came in. On the right was a hallway leading to four rooms. Three of them had the doors shut and the fourth one you guessed to be the bathroom, and you were correct. On the left was a wide rectangular arch that opened into the kitchen area. The living room had two windows that let in the sunshine that showered on a desk full of papers and files. Two chairs were arranged in front of the fireplace and the shelves surrounding it were full of books and decorative objects.

“Wow,” You say. “It’s actually pretty spacious.”

“Yep, here’s your room, Syrena.” John says, walking over to the first room down the hall.

You followed him and looked into your new living quarters. The walls were a nice blue color and a bed was pushed against the wall. A nightstand stood on the right side of the bed and a lamp was set upon it. A comfortable chair was in another corner, along with a desk. On the bed were some pillows and a green comforter. Propped against the pillows was a concert-sized ukulele.

“You didn’t bring your ukulele,” John says sorta sadly. “Luckily I have mine. You can have it.”

You smile happily, but sadly at the same time. Your old boyfriend had broken your ukulele out of anger, and that's why you didn't bring it, but you didn't tell John that. "Thanks so much, I seem to find some sort of peace when I play." You try to laugh, but the memory holds you back.

“Sherlock does too, he’s a violinist.” John offers. “Maybe you two could play together sometime.”

You laugh at the absurdity of the thought, “He doesn’t seem like one who would do that. I think he prefers to be alone.”

“Oh, he does. I just think that you’ll be able to snap him out of his cold demeanor.” John smiles hopefully.

"Why me?" You look at your brother playfully.

"You'll see," John smirks. "Oh, I think you and Mrs. Hudson should meet. I think she'll like you well enough.”

“Who’s she?”

“I’m not your housekeeper,” an elderly voice calls from the outside of the door.

“Mrs. Hudson, come on in!” John calls out cheerfully.

The door opens and an old lady with short, curly, light brown hair walks in.

“How long were you eavesdropping?” John asks with a smirk.

“Only long enough to know you were talking about me, dearie.” The woman says.

“Mrs. Hudson?” You hold out your hand and smile.

“Syrena Watson?” She asks and instead gives you a hug.

“She knows that I’m staying here, John, but not Sherlock!” You turn to him.

John winces, “Relax, Syrena, he’ll be fine.”

You shake your head and cross your fingers that John will be right.

You and Mrs. Hudson get to know each other over cups of tea and biscuits and before you know it you are giggling so hard that you feel like you’re gonna cry.

“What is that, John?” You hear Sherlock’s voice come from the doorway.

“It is Mrs. Hudson and Syrena laughing.” John answers, smiling.

“They sound like they are torturing an owl,” Sherlock’s voice holds a tone of annoyance. He walks into the dining room/ kitchen and barely glances at you. “When is she going?”

“I’m leaving in a few minutes, Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson looks up from her cup of tea.

“Not you, her. She is ruining my concentration.” Sherlock states simply as he opens the fridge.

“Pardon me?” You ask.

“When is she leaving?” He turns to John, expecting an answer.

“She is staying with us,” John states.

“When is she leaving to stay somewhere for the night?”

“She is living with us.” John clarifies. “And she has a name, her name is Syrena.”

“Silena can not stay with us, she is too distracting, more difficult than you even.” Sherlock says, nonchalantly.

“Excuse me, Mr. Holmes, I understand if you want me to go, I can find a small apartment of my own.” You say, not even bothering to correct Sherlock's mistake.

"No, Syrena, you are staying with us!" John says exasperated, "Sherlock! Her name is Syrena, and she is not going to live somewhere else!"

“Thank you,” Sherlock says, completely ignoring John. “Now you should be going, I have a case to solve. Goodbye, wait, why are you still here?” His eyes meet yours finally and he looks at you expectantly,  “Goodbye,” he says more slowly like you are dumb.

“No, Syrena. You are staying with us.” John glares at Sherlock, “She is staying with us, for gosh sakes, Sherlock, she is my sister!”.

“She is not staying!” Sherlock argues.

“She can stay with me until she finds an apartment, John?”  Mrs. Hudson offers. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, but Sherlock is going to have to deal with this, he is not going to control how I take care of my sister!” John raises his voice.

Sherlock sighs, “Fine, you win. But she must know that she is not allowed to play loud music, laugh so much, in fact I would prefer if she stayed absolutely silent.”

Mrs. Hudson, who is now standing next to the door, gives Sherlock a disapproving face, “Now Sherlock-”

“Shouldn’t you be going now, Mrs. Hudson, oh is that the downstairs door? Goodbye!” He pratically pushes her out the door and slams it behind her.

“John, where is my file? Nevermind, I’ll get it myself. Shush, don’t breathe so loudly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole street heard you! Now be quiet, I need to enter my mind palace.”

“His what?” You whisper to John as Sherlock sits in a chair, cross-legged, hands held up to his face, fingertips touching, and eyes closed.

“A normal person would call it his brain,” John says.

“QUIET, I am thinking!” Sherlock says, still in the same position as before.

You yank on John’s hand and pull him into your room, shutting the door behind you guys. “I don’t think this will work, John. I think I should find somewhere else to live.” You smile sadly, you had looked forward to staying with your brother, but now it seemed like it wouldn’t work.

John sighs, "Syrena, if you want to get away from Sherlock's degrading comments, I understand. But if you do, let me find a flat for us to share, just the two of us. I promised you a place to stay, and I'm not going to let my sister live in an unfamiliar place if I can be with her and help her adjust."

You laugh, "You certainly are a different sort of brother, most brothers would want to push their little sister away and ignore them."

John shrugs with a smile, "I don't have many friends, so that makes me lonely too."

"No friends at all?" You ask, surprised.

"Well, Mrs. Hudson and Molly Cooper are acquaintances and I like them, they are good people. But I have only one real friend here, and as surprising as it is, it's Sherlock."

You laugh again, "You act annoyed with him all the time, though."

"Trust me, he is annoying and irritating, but fascinating at the same time. He helps prevent my life from being boring with all the cases we run around to solve."

"Do you think he'll let me come along?" You ask.

John smiles, "Sure, all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and give him your best puppy dog eyes, then-"

You wack him in the head, "You're so evil! You know I don't do that and besides, that would never work on him!"

John laughs, "It was worth a shot. But I think he'll be open to letting you come along at least once, he is a show off."

You think for a second then say, "Ok, I'll stay here. But if Sherlock gets too irritated, I'm leaving!" You joke.

John smiles, "That's the spirit, now we have to go meet Molly."

"When? And who's that?"

"Right now! I promised that we'd meet her for dinner." John says, getting up from the bed.

"Are you two dating or something?" You ask, quizzically.

John laughs, "No, she actually secretly likes Sherlock. But she is a kind person and I think you'll like her."

“Why would she like him?” You ask, you weren’t trying to be rude, but it came out like that.

“He may seem cold and standoffish, but he is a good guy.”

“Not as good as you,” You smile cheekily.

John smirks, “Hurry up and get ready. We have to meet her in fifteen minutes.” He leaves and shuts the door behind him.

You sigh and plop onto your bed, there wasn’t much to do to get ready. You pulled out the only other clean outfit you had brought, it was some dark blue jeans and a basic green colored shirt.

After putting the outfit on, you brush your hair and decide to leave it down instead of putting it in a ponytail.

“You ready, Syrena?” John knocks on your door.

“Mhmm,” You nod and open the door. “Ready!” John looks at your choice of clothes, “Hmmm, Molly will know some good places for clothes shopping here.”

You look at your appearance, then back at John. “You think I look terrible?” John laughs, “No, you look beautiful as always. I just know how a girl thinks and that you’d want to go shopping soon and I’d rather not accompany you.” You roll your eyes and smirk, “I see how it is.”

“We should probably be leaving now or we’ll be late,” He said looking at his watch.

The two of you walk out to the livingroom and you are surprised to see Sherlock in the same position as you left him.

“We’ll be back later, Sherlock.” John calls and shakes his head in annoyance as he receives no reply or even an indication that he was heard.

“Bye,” You say as you follow John out the door, little did you know that at your voice Sherlock opened his eyes slightly and watched you as you left, a small smile on his face.

John waves a taxi down and you two get in and John gives the cabbie the destination place.

When you arrive at the small cafe, John leads you to a table where a woman who looks to be a year or two older than you is sitting.

The woman is wearing a reddish-pink blouse and white pants, her long brown hair is in a style where a braid runs from one side of her head over the top to the other. She smiles as she recognizes John and stands up when you near the table. “Hello, I am Molly Cooper. John has told me so much about you!”

You laugh, “Good things I hope?”

Molly chuckles as you sit down next to her, “Absolutely, he practically adores you.”

John hides his face in his hands, “Molly…...don’t, just don’t.”

Molly laughs, “He has told me lots about you, I’m sure he’s happy that you moved here. I am too, there’s not a lot of interesting people here to hang out with besides your brother, Sherlock, and Greg.”

“My brother, interesting?” You smile mischievously at your brother.

John groans, “I’m thinking I shouldn’t have even come now.” A waiter comes to your table and you take John and Molly’s advice of ordering the cheeseburger, fries, and shake combo.

“You won’t regret it,” John promises, “this is one of the best meals here.”

Molly smirks, “He basically eats this every Tuesday.”

“Every Tuesday?” You inquire.

John clears his throat, “We always have dinner together on Tuesdays, Sherlock comes every so often, but he usually just dampers the mood.” He chuckles.

You nod, quietly taking in all the information and forming conclusions in your head.

The waiter comes back bringing you all your meals and shakes, a caramel one for Molly, chocolate for John, and strawberry for you.

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur full of laughter and lots of teasing concerning your poor brother.

“It was so nice meeting you,” You smile at your newfound friend.

Molly nods, “Clothes shopping tomorrow then, say around two?”

You laugh, “I don’t really have anything else to do. Do you approve of me going, John?”

John sighs and shakes his head, “You brought out the worst in her, Molly!”

Molly only laughs then hails a cab and says goodbye, a second later she is gone.

“Want me to get a taxi or want to walk home?” John asks, “It’s not a very far walk and it is fairly warm.”

“Let’s walk, I need the exercise.” You laugh and put your arm through John's.

John smiles and then sobers, "Syrena?"

"Yeah?" You ask.

"What happened back in the states?" He asks quietly.

You sigh, you knew he was gonna ask one day about your ex, but you were never gonna be prepared for the question.

John notes your hesitancy and quickly says, “You can tell me when you’re ready, I know it still hurts, but I’m here for you whenever you are ready to talk about it.” He gives you a smile and then asks as casually as he can, “What did you think of Molly?”

You quickly look up at him, giving him a cheesy smile. "Is my brother in love?"

John playfully pushes you away, "Sisters, so presumptuous."

You laugh, "Brothers, so obvious all the time about who they like."

John drags his hand over his face and gives you the funniest, tired expression you had ever seen. "Ok, but for reals. Do you like her?"

“She seems sweet,” You say thoughtfully. “Sweet but sad, she seems like she’s hiding slightly, like she’s insecure. I do like her, John. But why does my opinion matter on this? If you like her, go for it!”

“I can’t,” John sighs, “she’s in love with Sherlock.”

You laugh, “Don’t get all depressed on me now. Keep up the good faith, don’t lose hope!”

You two make it back to Baker Street and quickly run up the stairs.

“Watcha want to bet Sherlock is still in the same position as we left him?” John smirks as he puts his hand on the door knob.

“Really?” You ask, totally thinking your brother is being overdramatic.

John pushes the door open and sure enough, there is Sherlock in his chair, cross-legged, fingertips in front of his face touching, and eyes closed. “Told you.”

Sherlock opens one eye and gives you two a quizzical look, then he resumes exploring his mind palace.

“He’s really extreme,” John informs you, like you haven't already figured it out.

Sherlock gets up and says, “Get your adjectives right, John. I am not extreme, a psychopath, or whatever else people label me. I am a high functioning sociopath.”

“Like I said, he’s extreme.” John crosses his arms. “Figure anything out yet concerning the case?”

Sherlock ignores him, walks into the kitchen and then pours himself a cup of tea. “What is it like inside your funny little brains? It must be so boring.”

You laugh at him, then realize it wasn’t a joke, Sherlock had honestly insulted you, again.

“Mine’s like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket tearing itself to pieces, trapped on a launching pad.” Sherlock says.

“Not again,” John sighs, “I’ve heard this before.”

“Of course you have, John! Your tiny little brain can only grasp the real meaning though, how I truly feel.” Sherlock glares.

“My mind is like a cat spying on its prey, then the cat gets hit by a lightning strike and gets fried.” John mocks him, clearly improvising on what to say.

“That doesn’t even make sense, John. You’re such an idiot.” Sherlock slurps his tea.

John gives him a face and Sherlock sighs and pulls the cup away from his lips.

“Don’t look like that, practically everyone is an idiot."

"At least other people are more sensitive," you mumble. You usually were a cool and collected person, but now Sherlock was starting to annoy you with his constant degrading comments.

"Did that thing say something?" Sherlock says calmly, referring to you as a thing.

You frown and say in a low voice, "Goodnight," and then head to your room, shutting the door behind you.

You sit down in the chair and eagerly grab the ukulele. You knew Sherlock would be annoyed, but part of you wanted to annoy him now.

You smile at the familiar feel of your fingers pressed against the ukulele strings and you happily use your thumb to strum a G chord. You start to think about what to play and suddenly your fingers start to play the familiar and somewhat sweet, longing tune of Edelweiss.

"You play beautifully." you hear a voice say and you jump and look up at your brother who was standing amused against your doorframe.

"Gosh dang it, John. Don't sneak up on me like that." You shake your head with a smile and randomly pluck a few strings.

John laughs, "Sorry about, well, you know who. He is a bit of a jerk."

"A bit?" You smirk.

"Fine, a lot of a jerk. But he'll come around soon, he's not so bad once you get to know him."

“Promise?” You ask dramatically.

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” John recites, it was one of the things that he always used to say to reassure you when you were kids.

You laugh and then lean your head on John’s shoulder, “Thanks for being such a good brother.”

“No problem,” John says, then rips the ukulele out of your hands and starts playing really badly.

You giggle and steal the ukulele back, “Watch and learn,” you tease.

Hey lovelies ;) I started this story a few years ago, I hope some of you can appreciate it still, lol. Depending on how many reviews and likes I get, I might post more in this series. Thank you for giving me a chance!

[alolowrites]

Smack That

Summary: Bakugou has a lot of discipline, but he’s still a man who loves your ass.

Author’s Note: Heyyyyyy *nervous chuckle* how’s it going? I really wanted to get one more story out before 2021 ended and OF COURSE it was Bakugou lmao. I got inspired by a tik tok vid with a gym couple but added my little ~spicy~ twist at the end hahaha. Nothing too crazy (aka no smut, im sorry :/) Also everyone is aged-up! 

Story is kinda a sequel to Gymtleman if y’all wanna read it. 

Enjoy :D 

Word Count: 584

Growing an ass was a process that didn’t happen overnight. You must put in the work, put in the hours, and most importantly, put out a whole lot of tears at the gym. Luckily for you, those tears passed off as gritty sweat that just so happened to fall out of your eyes. 

You plopped on the bench, chugging down the water like a lost traveler who hadn't drunk anything for days. Instant relief washed over you, but the battle was far from over. You took a few moments to rest your aching muscles before trekking toward the dumbbells. The next set wouldn’t be any easier than the last one—Bakugou ensured this. 

After months admiring him from afar at the gym–plus an additional five months of dating–you’ve come to realize that Bakugou doesn’t half-ass anything, especially if it was your ass. He was tougher than a drill sergeant, pushing you to go above and beyond because he knew you had the potential. It was a complete mystery how you managed to survive this long at the gym with him.

You stared at the dumbbells, your chest heaving a bit. The fifty-pound weights were the correct choice, but the twenty-pound pair looked tempting. You glanced over your shoulders and saw Bakugou was busy on the bench press across the room. There was no way he would notice the tiny switch for your next set. You snatched the lighter pair—what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

But more importantly, it won’t hurt you or your dying legs. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you muttered, taking in a deep breath to push through the last set of the day. Except you barely had a chance to start after someone yanked the dumbbell out of your grasp. You shot up, annoyed. “Hey, what gives–oh.”

Bakugou gave you a firm look. 

“Sup, babe!” You stupidly hid the other dumbbell with a nervous chuckle. “Done with chests so soon?” 

“Give it.” 

“Ugh, fine.” 

You passed the dumbbell to him. Bakugou put them away and carried over the correct pair without breaking a sweat. You almost fell forward after holding the fifty-pound dumbbells that weighed like an anchor for a navy ship. 

“Really, babe?! It’s heavy!” 

“That’s the point,” Bakugou snorted, crossing his arms. “How else is that ass gonna grow?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grunted and gripped the dumbbells tight. Feeling cheeky, you wiggled your butt at him. “No pain, no gain, huh?” 

“That’s right.” 

You gasped at the hard sting on your cheeks from Bakugou’s greedy slap heard around the world, or at least the gym. You searched over your shoulders; so far, no one was looking your way. For once, the ego lifters’ loud, obnoxious grunts were a gift sent from above instead of the usual headache. 

“Katsuki! What the hell?!” You whacked Bakugou’s chest and hissed, “We’re in public!”

“Tch, so? I’m just feeling your progress,” Bakugou laughed, his eyes checking you out. He didn’t try to keep his hands off you again, squeezing your body as though you were his personal toy. He growled into your ear, “Gonna have to do a thorough check when we get home.”

Bakugou smacked your ass once again, and you rolled your eyes, fighting back a stupid grin. Sure he might be more disciplined than a drill sergeant, but Bakugou was still a man who had a weakness for your glorious ass. And he’ll make sure to appreciate it with a hearty smack that will leave you sore for days.

Don’t come at me if there’s a Bakugou handprint on your cheeks the next day aksjdhsakjdjh. 

Thank you for reading! And have a fantastic new year :D I will manifest good vibes for y’all for 2022.

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[tonysiron]

You got any dinluke fanfiction recs?

BRO, SO MANY!! You have come to the right place since I've literally read every single fic up to when we hit about 90 of them in the tag 😎 Here are all the fics (in no particular order) that are completed and that I have finished reading that I have recced on my ao3!

Separate Ways || 80.9K Words || Explicit

With Moff Gideon defeated and the Darksaber reclaimed, the rumours of newly named Mand'alor Din Djarin spread through the galaxy... along with the stories of the Child he carries with him. Determined to meet him, Luke Skywalker arrives on Mandalore -- but before he can get any closer, he has to prove himself worthy of Mandalorian standards.

This fic is a classic! Its literally The Dinluke fic to read. It's a great starting point, and it was written Pre S2!

Together || 1.49K Words || General Audiences

“You can come with us” the man said.

Din looked up, not quite registering the words yet. In his arms he was holding the child. Grogu. He still hadn’t gotten used to the name.

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye for you and the youngling” the Jedi repeated.

you are a clan of three || 1.49K Words || General Audiences

Din stands quite still, polite-like, with his hands crossed at his waist. So does Luke. After a moment, the baby crosses his hands too.

At last Din appears to relax completely and Luke turns away. ‘I’ll be back for him,’ he tells Din, his voice warm, ‘but first I must attend to my other Padawans.’

‘Oh,’ Din says respectfully. ‘Is that… a Force thing?’

Crystal Tears || 2.95K Words || Not Rated

“This is going to be awkward,” Luke sighs down at the baby in his arms. R2 beeps besides him and Luke nods in agreement. “Nothing to do but go back.”

His X-Wing is almost completely dismantled, sparking where wires hang limply. There is no way he’s getting off of this cruiser until it’s repaired. There aren't even any escape pods on board all of the docking bays empty. He hadn’t anticipated this, and now he was going to have to walk back to the bridge with the baby and explain himself to a heartbroken Mandalorian.

This fic is great, but so its the series its apart of! I really love Din and Luke's dynamic, so if you read this fic I definitely reccomend reading the 3 following ones as well! Altogether its 19.8K Words!

the art of missing Din Djarin || 1.15K Words || Teen

Somehow, Luke had a distinct feeling that the bounty hunter was an easy man to miss.

Or, 4 times Grogu wants to know if Luke misses Din.

I remember reading this and absolutely loving it. Its short and sweet (most of these fics are) but they made me giggle stupidly, so I reccomend it!

Yoda's Academy for Li'l Padawans || 17.6K Words || Teen

Being a new student is hard.

Being a new student whilst your socially awkward father avoids the school at all costs and your new teacher pines uselessly over a man he’s never met before is even worse.

But by god, Grogu is gonna get through this.

Legitimately I think this might be my favorite fic so far and it barely has any actual dinluke in it. Luke's dynamic with all of Din's friends, plus him complaining to Han and Leia the entire time is just so fun to read that the whole fic flies by so fast. Also Din just desperately avoiding Luke bc the idea of having to talk to 1 (one) pretty boy has completely crippled him.

More Than His Armor || 12.6K Words || Teen

Din visits Grogu at Luke’s academy more than any other parent. Luke isn’t complaining.

His Beacon, His Harbor || 21.4K Words || Mature

The first thing Din noticed was the fire in the hearth. Near the hearth was a small, handmade crib, and from the crib came an excited cry. It spread through Din's chest like a bloodstain, perhaps it had in fact pierced his heart. He knew that little voice.

“Hey, you,” said Din softly. He dropped to his knees as the Kid scrambled out of the crib and scampered to him, crawling into his lap and burbling happily.

“That’s the most excited I’ve seen him in months,” said Skywalker. Din hadn’t even noticed him sitting across the room at a rough-hewn wooden table, nursing a cup of something. He wore the same carefully neutral expression he'd had on Gideon's ship, but his clothes were now desert-colored and hung loose around Skywalker's wiry frame. His hair was in disarray and it made him look much younger than he'd seemed on the ship; there, he'd seemed world-weary and ancient. Now, Din felt an insane need to protect.

Skywalker raised his cup at Din in greeting, a lopsided smile on his face. “He’s missed you," he said.

“Feeling’s mutual,” said Din gruffly.

___

The Mandalorian becomes Din Djarin.

Din Djarin becomes.

(Luke helps.)

Oh man, I read this fic last night and it's literally pure art. Its so fucking sweet, I love it so much. Force sensitive Din is definitely something more people need to write, and I genuinely adore this whole thing from start to finish. Leia is in it very briefly too, and that's always lovely. 💖

They Know This || 1.2K Words || General Audiences

“This is Luke, Gregory. He is going to be having dinner with us. Remember that I told you we’d be having dinner with someone significant?” Dad asks so gently, and his rough hands run through Grogu’s hair. It’s like being scratched.

Grogu nods once more and Dad breaks into an even bigger smile, though by a lot of standards that’s not very large. Dad’s smiles are always like when comets fly past the moon, so sudden and shocking and a reminder of how truly small Grogu feels in this bigger universe he calls home, this feeling that’s so overwhelming.

He loves Dad. A lot.

So hehe this is actually my fic! It's just a fic in grogu's pov about meeting Luke for the first time, and he and Din are on a date :)

Alright, I hope these are good enough for you! I don't really rec fics on here, so I hope I did okay this first time around 😎

[misstalwyn]

Okay Thebes, what the FUCK

cut again bc I just need to vibrate on this shit

It was so much exactly like what I thought and exactly the opposite of what I wanted

I hated being right about the goddamn tomb décor but it’s nice to see that narcissism at work ig lol

Like, damn, on one hand I wanted to see Thebes, and it looked more like the Thebes I could see in my head than I thought they’d do! (I really thought he’d just jump out of a sarcophagus tbh)

On the other hand, I had two BIG wants on two conditions

If Ted is alive, we get to fight/kill him

If he’s dead, it had to have been ironic/funny and we get to spit on his grave

So you can maybe see why I’m just ticked all the way off now 😤

DO YOU KNOW HOW NEAT IT WAS FOR A SPLIT SECOND TO THINK THAT TED WENT FULL RESIDENT EVIL AND THAT WE COULD FIGHT HIM LIKE NEMESIS??

THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SICK!! WHY WOULD YOU ROB US OF THAT, GUERRILLA??

It’s a little disappointing that because of the way they went about using it, Thebes & Ted feel like a footnote in this game’s narrative? And the series as a whole? Am I alone in feeling like that??

I mean, Ted is the reason all this shit even started, he was the Big Bad and they deliberately left all these threads hanging in ZD just to wrap them up way too neatly in a plot where he’s not even the antagonist anymore?? WHY

I JUST WANTED TO KICK HIS ASS, MAN

Don’t get me wrong, I think the zeniths are interesting enough as villains, but doesn’t it feel a little odd that they were more successful just by being stupidly rich people who happened to pick the venture that worked, rather than Ted, who was smart enough to have Omega Clearance done under Elisabet’s nose, become functionally immortal, and kill the alphas?

AND THE ZENITHS EVEN GOT CAUGHT. BUT THEY STILL GOT WHAT THEY WANTED? JUST BECAUSE??

I can’t believe I’m even defending Ted at all but when you spend a whole 100+ hour game’s worth of lore building this guy up and then don’t even show his gross, resident evil mutation IN THE GAME ABOUT FIGHTING GROSS, COOL MONSTERS, I’m gonna be a little disappointed, k?

I hate to think it was because they thought Ted was too easy to hate? They really thought “let’s undercut every little thing he ever did and even when we DO deliver what you’d expect, we’re gonna kill him passively so players don’t even get the satisfaction of kicking his ass”

I expected this whole scenario at the end of a trilogy, hence why I wrote that fic as vaguely as I did—bc I really didn’t think they’d just go and do it now! I thought I had to leave space for a whole ass sequel! And they just,,, went and did it,

It feels especially cowardly now bc it’s clear in all his datapoints that he never came remotely CLOSE to realizing exactly what he did/was doing. And then they just let him die with that mindset! Half the reason I wanted to confront him (and why I’m so glad I wrote the fic when I did lol) was so he could see, if not realize, how wrong he was!

Aloy just really deserved a chance to give Ted a piece of her mind tbh, and I would have LOVED to see the look on his face when he realized who/what she was. 😤

I guess the zeniths could fill in on that narrative thread, but it’s just not gonna feel as satisfying, especially bc I still don’t know who they are!!

Tilda knew Lis? Okay, that’s a total retcon, but w/e.

Erik and Peter? Whomst?!

Verbena died instantly and then I found the datapoint from her SEVENTEENTH ENGAGEMENT? DID THEY REALLY JUST LET SOME RANDOM IT GIRL ONTO THEIR ADVANCED COLONY SHIP?? OKAY LOL

I feel a wayyyy more intriguing tie to Regalla than any of those chumps, bc I love the Tenakth so much and her shit has really divided them and brought them closer together at the same time in a long, consistent manner. It’s great! I wanna fight her more!

The zeniths? Eh, I guess I just wanna break their stuff more than them rn lol

Plus, Regalla’s motivation/conflict ties into the first game and extended lore so well! Ofc it makes sense a segment of the Tenakth wouldn’t be capable of forgiving the Carja! That shit was fucked up!! No amount of smiles and gifts from Avad could ever “fix” that! (Sorry, my sun-king 😭)

All this to say you could’ve just had this game be Aloy’s long quest to repair GAIA, feat. All these new cool tribes and people. Regalla was already your shadow carja equivalent, and just finding the subfunctions while she’s running around fucking shit up would’ve been challenge enough. Didn’t need the space people at all, tbh! But, I’m not a game writer! (Yet!!)

[jrueships]

Not to be a gremlin buuuuuuut would you care to share your redacted thoughts on trae/John 👀 because I would love to hear them 😳

IMMA BE HONEST ANON.. They're mainly just [redacted] loose random ideas I think with about absolutely NO explanation whatsoever so.. 😭 it's nothing like.. SPECTACULAR but 😳😳 u know like I just can't give u the whole spiel rn 😭

But I'll give random tidbits anyways 😎

Okay so I'll start with like.. the SCENARIO I was thinking about before. So like- 

Trae and John go out clubbing to celebrate a win. They're recently new to the NBA, trae more-so Collins, so they've got a little pride in their win and wanna have fun and get some hotties. But, the win wasn't at home, so most of the people at the club pretty much hated them for beating a team that was supposed to win instead of the hawks. Basically, they get no bitches. 

  And trust me. They did EVERYTHING to get bitches.

Trae would have John go up to women and try and be a good wingman, advertise Trae's attractiveness, Nope. Nada. Trae put in his and John's favorite song. Nobody even wanted to dance with them. It was just John and trae dancing by themselves.. which was fine and all because they usually just dance together anyways, but it Did look a little awkward so… That ended quickly. A lady throws her shoe at them, to which trae keeps because fuck her and her shoe. Now bitch can hobble back home with one barefoot like a crunked up Cinderella 

BUT IN END RESULT, they left the club with no bitches and hurt egos. 

During the drive back to their hotel, Trae complained the whole way. He goes from frustrated to flabbergasted to angry to despairing to annoyed. The whole drive is just him ranting about 'bitches' and how he got none. John keeps pitching in by complaining as well, also showing confusion, equal anger, empathizing, and equal, if not more, Annoyance at the women's denials as well.

And then John says something like "if /I/ was a female, ((we all know how straight men talk yall.)) I'd TOTALLY find you hot, dude!"

   That's when the car gets quiet.

John realizes what he said and quickly tries joking it off, giving a hurried "no homo though!" And laughing nervously. 

Trae starts to laugh and everything is a rushed, awkward fine again. Trae even jokes about it when they park at the hotel, getting out first and opening John's car door for him in mock romance. The charade goes on for a while to lighten things up until the slip up is nothing of serious substance…

A few drinks to drown out their pussyless sorrows and things start to get a little tipsy. Silly drunk conversations conjure while they sit on trae's hotel room bed, but nothing of big talk.. Not until Trae reminds himself about his scoreless night and starts ranting until he gets sad again. Thick brow furrowed, he squinted blurred at the ground and trails his funny gaze up John's physique. He asks something akin to the lines of "hey… remember when you said like… if you were a woman… you'd find me hot?" To which John panics but confirms nonetheless…

Trae goes o h and they sit in awkward silence. They both painfully finish their like. 4th beer of the night. Then trae finally breaks the silence by asking, 

  "So… like.. hypothesis..-ly… hypo...hypocritically-" 

      "Hypothetically ?"

"Yeah. That's what I said. Anyways. Hypothesisly… if you Were a woman.. would you also .. fuck me?"

SO YEAH. THERES MORE TO IT UHH THEY FUCK (DUH) AND THEY BOTH WAKE UP IN THE SAME BED AND PANIC NOT REMEMBERING ANYTHING.. but they find that one shoe the woman threw at them strewn by the door so … of course their straight minds (desperately) convince themselves that they had an EPICLY AWESOME AND HOT threesome with a SMOKING HOT BABE who quickly fled the scene. … And maybe their d*cks mightve touched ONCE and MAYBE trae feels like touching John's ass is far more familiar than he'd like but… THINGS HAPPEN IN THE DARK OK. IT'S HARD TO SEE… 

   In conclusion, they drunk fucked and convinced themselves that they didn't drunk fuck 😭

     But my random weird ideas about them fucking just in general are like…

OKAY OKAY. I know we all love to see short and tall ships.. and the general CONSENSUS is that the taller one is the top but THERES SMTHIN ABOUT THE SHORTER ONE TOPPING THAT IS.. GOOD. OKAY?? So. Yeah. Trae tops LMFAO. HES JUST SO… CLEVERLY ?? SCHEMEY THAT?? He just Is the top ok. THEY CAN SWITCH and john can be the service top to power bottom Trae but.. they have to develop past their straightness for that level 😭 

 BUT ANYWAYS MORE ABOUT TOP TRAE.. he is literally Only hot to John LMFAO. He says and does the cheesiest shit in bed. If he was with anyone else, he'd turn them off by just getting naked down to his batman underwear. But luckily he is with John, his dumbly devoted best friend <3 

More about them in bed tho…

Okay so picture John on the bed getting fucked by Trae standing on the floor because it's too hard for Trae to top with such a height difference LMAO… John is bent on his back and his long legs are hooked over trae's shoulders.. Trae turns his head to kiss his legs all sweet…  John starts to whimper out a moan but then.   Trae puts a finger to his lips and makes a shushing motion like he did to the knicks crowd KABXJS 

Like when trae wants to fuck??? They fuck. In a hotel room with their teammates staying like?? Literally next door? Doesn't matter. They gonna fuck. Just so trae can have the cheesy NERVE of shushing john when their sex is getting too loud. Even though TRAE is the verbal one… 

And by verbal like.. bad porn verbal. Loud obnoxious grunting. Keeps asking John if he likes it. How 'big he is'. Asks how much John Wants it. Then doesn't let John formulate any kind of intelligible response because he's already leaning down to bite the long length of his neck.

SPEAKING OF BITING.. trae is definitely a biter. LMAO… he bites the insides of John's thighs, his neck, the slope of his shoulder, anywhere he can claim his stake, he Claims it. (Even the ass 😭 he's cursed like that man.) Afterwards in the aftercare he trails over his bite marks and kisses them and says smthin stupidly cocky like "you're a work of art and baby I'm your artist"

Trae in general is just a very passionate lover. If he wants John in a different position, he'll PUT John in a different position. Trae wants to do all the work to please John and himself and John just wants to please Trae. Trae will do anything bro. Eating ass, giving or getting (by getting like. Hand on hair Always) the sloppy toppy, having John ride him like. Bro got a fiesty libido.

And John just lets Trae take whatever he wants. He mainly doesn't have the strength to spit out terrible pornstar lines, so he settles for just.. desperately chanting out a slurred series of "bros/dudes/mans/any other term frat bros use to lovingly regale each other in". But yeah. He spends most of his time trying to look at Trae and think about how much he loves him 😭 and how hot he thinks he is right now like this. They're VERY much into looking at each other when having sex, but they weren't at the start though. At the beginning it was a whole "You don't look at me, I don't look at you" deal that was quickly broken when Trae pushed in and they both finally realized how much they want each other so …

ANYWAYS… YEAH.. them being [redacted] together is always like… on the VERGE of being sexy until one of them ruins it somehow (but the other will always find it sexy somehow. The sensible readers just won't 😭). Like if Trae is clapping John's cheeks and they make a funny sound, they're both gonna stop and laugh at how much it sounded like John farted. They're just two stupid guys in stupid love baby!!!! 

[h0rnyshakespeare]

Good morning/evening/night ❤

If you don't mind could you do a denki x shinsou oneshot where they go on a date to watch a movie And for brunch (with jirou caz denki was too scared to go alone with shinsou) And he's very conscious about how he looks and stuff

Later during brunch denki obviously starts flirting with shinsou, shinsou flirts back as well and jirou is just confused why denki thinks shinsou doesn't like him back

And later jirou leaves them and encourages denki to confess to shinsou

then denki asks shinsou if he wants to have ice cream in the park and while they're in the park he's just like hey I have something to tell you and he tires his best to confess to him but in the end he's just too scared of being rejected and loosing his friendship with him

So they go back to the dorms and denki says good night and then shinsou just kisses him and says "I like you" and just runs away

Denki is just completely dumbstruck for the whole night then he gets ready to bed and gets a message from shinsou saying "sleep well I'll see you tomorrow 💜💛 "

Also if you don't ship denki with shinsou it's completely fine just ignore this <3

Have a nice day 😊

His Pikachu

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinsou x Denki Kaminari (implied MomoJirou)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 952

Warnings: none

A/N: I live for shinkami, dear anon😌💜💛Also, I changed it up a bit so Denki texts Jirou for advice rather than her thirdwheeling if that’s ok with you. Hope you enjoy!

Denki paced around outside the Heights Alliance entrance, feeling extremely nervous. He pulled out his phone to distract himself.

Denki: I can’t do this

Jirou: Don’t be an idiot, I’m sacrificing my chill time for u

Denki: Have I told u how much I love u

Jirou: Tell that to Shinsou

Denki: Oh no Shinsou

Jirou: Relax dummy. he obviously likes u

Denki: What if I go into whey mode??!!!

Jirou: He’s seen u in whey mode b4

“Kaminari, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,’ a familiar voice spoke, startling him. “Oh, uh, hey, Shinsou! Yeah, of course not, I just got out,” Denki said. “We should get going, don’t wanna miss the movie!” “Yeah. I was surprised you were into horror, to be honest,” Shinsou replies as they started walking, the cinema only being a few blocks away. Denki chuckled nervously. In truth, he got scared pretty easily from horror movies but since Shinsou was a fan he did not mind going to see one. “Yeah, it’s cool I guess.” “You sure you won’t get scared though?” Shinsou smirked. Denki shoved his arm playfully. “I’m a hero-in-training! Of course I won’t.”

Denki’s words backfired on him at the first jumpscare. He clung to Shinsou’s arm impulsively, popcorn spilling all over their laps. Shinsou smirked at him lazily. “You good?” Denki let go of him just as quickly as he had grabbed on, almost as if he had (ironically) been electrocuted. “Y-yeah! I’m good! Pfft, that was nothing.” Shinsou shrugged. “Ok.”

Denki: I grabbed onto Shinsou like 10 times during the movie help

Jirou: If he’s still with u rn he was prolly fine with it

Denki bit his lip, feeling self-conscious. Why had Shinsou decided to go on a date with him? Did he even consider it a date? Was it just out of pity? “Hey, there’s a great brunch place nearby. Wanna grab something to eat?” Shinsou asked, breaking his train of thought. Denki smiled at him, putting his phone away. “Sure!”

They arrived at the diner Shinsou was talking about, sitting together in a booth, talking about nothing in particular as they waited to order. Denki, being ever the flirt, could not help but throw some pickup lines towards Shinsou, who, much to his surprise, flirted back, causing his heart to do little leaps in his chest. After they ate, Shinsou excused himself to the bathroom while Denki texted Jirou in the meantime, giving her an update.

Denki: Holy shit he flirted back

Jirou: Wow shocker

Denki: Why must u be so sarcastic

Jirou: :)

Denki: I really like him tho tbh

Jirou: I’m gonna leave now

Denki: wAIT WHAT NO DONT GO-

Jirou: Why? U didn’t text me for like two hours straight

Jirou: U got this

Jirou: Now I’m gonna leave, I miss Momo

Jirou: Pay for his food too ;)

Denki: Thanks Jirou 😭

Jirou: Anytime u idiot<3 don’t forget to confess

Denki found himself grinning stupidly. “I’m definitely going to confess to Shinsou today,” he thought to himself. He saw Shinsou returning from the bathroom and stood up. “Wanna go get ice cream?” “We need to pay for our food first, though,” Shinsou reminded him. Denki smirked. “The bill has been covered by yours truly.” Shinsou’s eyes widened. “I was gonna split it with you.” “No, no, it’s fine. Now let’s go get ice cream!” Denki smiled, causing Shinsou to grin along with him.

Denki and Shinsou sat on a bench in the park, eating their ice cream in comfortable silence. Shinsou had insisted on paying for Denki’s as well as payment for brunch. Denki had protested, but then found out how stubborn Shinsou was and had given up.

“How’s your ice cream?” Shinsou asked, breaking the silence. “It’s really good,” Denki replied, his mind a mess as he tried to come up with words to tell Shinsou how he felt. He took a deep breath. “Just go for it, you idiot.”

“Hey, Shinsou?”

Shinsou hummed in response. Denki’s palms started sweating. “Um, I just wanted to say…” His voice trailed out as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “I, uh, I had fun today.” “Goddammit.”

Shinsou broke out into a rare grin. “Yeah, me too.” “Really?!” Denki yelled, sounding much more excited than he had planned on. Shinsou chuckled. “Yeah. We should probably start heading back, though.” Denki sighed as he checked the time. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Shinsou insisted on walking Denki back to his dorm, which he secretly enjoyed. They stood in front of the entrance, gazing at each other. Shinsou cleared his throat. “Um, thanks for today,” he said, smiling softly. “I enjoyed it.” Denki was processing the fact that Shinsou was actually smiling before answering him. “O-oh right, me too!” he managed to stutter, causing Shinsou to chuckle. “Alright, then, good night!” Denki said, turning to go in, when a hand on his shoulder prevented him. “Shinsou-?” was all Denki managed to get out before Shinsou silenced him by placing his lips upon his. Denki’s eyes widened in shock, before he sighed with satisfaction, melting into the kiss. Shinsou pulled away reluctantly. “I like you, Denki,” was all he said before running away, leaving Denki dumbstruck. “He... he likes me? Holy shit he kissed me oh my god-” Denki was so excited he nearly short-circuited himself. He walked to his dorm room in a daze, trying to believe what had happened. A ‘ping’ from his phone snapped him out of his dreamlike state.

Shinsou: Sleep well pikachu boi. I’ll see u tomorrow🖤

Denki: You too! I’ll see you<3

Both boys grinned at the other’s message before going to bed, replaying the day’s events over and over in their heads.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The verdict.”

Was writing very quick today, so forgive the typos, and I hope you like it 

The detective woke to a familiar face only a few feet away from his. He was being shaken back and forth and with every shake his head pounded. Despite being able to see it took  him more than a few minutes to finally understand what was even going on.

“Detective, detective! Wake up, there we go, that’s it. You hit your head pretty hard.”

When his vision finally focused down and he took the time to recognize the face in front of him, he yelped in sudden surprise and tried to leap to his feet. However, his legs had other ideas, and he sagged hard towards the ground, his head pounding and nauseous.

Admiral Vir laid a hand on his shoulder, “Woah there hotshot take it easy. Gonna need you to stay still so I can take care of this.”

He groaned and tried to swat the other man away, “You-!

“Didn’t do this.” HE said, grabbing the Detective by the wrist and holding it tight as he used his left hand, and a damp cloth to wipe blood from his head, “Think back a little and maybe you’ll remember.” 

Confused by the man helping him, and his own throbbing head, he did his best to think back.

He remembered being outside the cells watching the cameras. He remembered dozing off in his seat a little.

And then it came to him.

He remembered being violently dragged off his chair and into the dark bak room, a hand over his mouth only to be set upon by the three escaped human prisoners. Things were so silent and so quick that it was hard to rationalize what happened. His eyes, still trying to focus, looked around the room and the wide open floor which constituted some kind of bar or club, with chairs and tables and seats, and a dance floor. However, everything was deserted as of now, and he was sitting back against one of the couches, his legs sticking out straight before him.

Admiral Vir leaned forward a bit, eyes narrowed in concentration as he parted the matted hair on top of the detective’s scalp. The expression the detective had come to know, one of indignant, childish petulance, was gone, and in its place was a serious expression of worry and concern that made the man look nearly twenty years older than he was.

This was the man he had expected when he heard admiral, not the sass mouthing over talkative prisoner he had been trying to interrogate for the past day or two. Admiral Vir sat back on his heels, his expression serious still, but less worried now, “So, you got yourself whacked pretty hard. Luckily for you the bleeding stopped and the cut isn’t too deep. Normally I would suggest finding a doctor to make sure you haven't badly concussed yourself, but considering the circumstances, we don’t really have that option.

We? He thought with some incredulity repeating the phrase before he knew what he was saying, “We…. What do you mean by we. I am the detective and YOU are the suspect.”

A little bit of the sarcastic childishness returned as the Admiral rolled his eyes to the heavens, “You are a pretty shit detective if you haven’t figured out by now that I am on your side.” Admiral Vir sat back on his heels, his one green eye staring the detective in the face, surprisingly devoid of any sort of malice.

“I’m going to be honest with you about exactly what happened, no sarcasm this time, no jokes. I was called into this planet as a consult to a murder.” he held up a hand as the detective went to protest, “Yes, I know, I am no detective, but I was asked by the GA, so I went. When we got there we found a dismembered Tesraki body in the back of his shop, based on the tourist area and and violence of the crime, I determined that humans had done it. WHen I saw the missing limbs I immediately assumed this was some sick plot about trying to find exotic meat or something, but it turns out I was wrong on that front.”

The admiral Stood and went over to toss the damp rag into a trashcan before returning, “I returned to our hotel room later that night with Krill and Sunny and sat down to compile a list of possible names. I found about twenty, but by the time I was done, it was already too late at night to do anything. I tried to sleep, but none came, so I left to go on a walk. Naturally my preoccupied mind let me towards the part of the city where those twenty names were registered.

It was only by luck that I ran into that alley at all. I couldn’t let the Tesraki die, so I stupidly jumped in and nearly got my throat cut once or twice. I did knock two of them out and break the sternum of the other one.” He patted the leg which the detective happened to know was mechanical, “I always forget how strong this piece of hardware is, but anyway, I called the authorities and the men were carted away. The Tesraki was fine when he left. I remember wrapping my jacket around him and carrying him out to wait for emergency vehicles. That was the last time I saw him. WHen we returned to the precinct the day after, was when you showed up and arrested me.”

The detective sat, his head reeling slowly in confusion and suspicion, “But I saw the security tapes. That’s not what happened.”

“Can you guarantee those security tapes werent doctored. Were you the first person to have your hands on them?” 

He paused and then shook his head, “Well, no.”

“And do you admit it is kind of weird for me to be arrested the day after the three men in the alley?” “I mean a little.”

“And based on all the research you have done on me, isn’t this a bit out of character.”

The detective paused unwilling to admit that he had been having some doubts. Sure he had been given a preliminary report of the Admiral’s criminal history, but when he got a better look at it, most of his actions had been justified. In the Drev war, he had been a member of operation Steel eye, a drugged young man being taken advantage of by a system. During the first contact incident, his excitement had led to the discovery of aliens, though the bran had misinterpreted his enthusiasm as hunting. His return to the Drev home planet had involved him spending time to learn their language and about their culture. And his murder of the burg that had inevitably caused the war was an act in self defence, and he couldnt have known that spitting on the creature was going to kill it.

He sighed deeply, “Alright, you have a point…. But I still think your an annoying asshole.”

The man smiled, “I get that a lot.”

“Anyway point of the story is, I woke up to something last night and the cell was open. I think they were trying to frame me for your murder, but the Tesrak idetective came into help at the alst second, and told me to get out as soon as I can.”

He supposed that made sense, and fit into his experience, “And what do you plan to do now? How are you going to get out of this. IF this is really a plot to frame you, and the department is involved, we can assume it comes from high up, with someone powerful enough to at least consider themselves above the law.”

The Admiral paused, tapping his fingers against his knee, “Did you come here in your own ship?”

*** “You must find the admiral and the detective. Leave admiral Vir alive, but make sure the detective dies. In the meantime, I will take this evidence and present it to the GA council, they are unlikely to disbelieve video evidence of the crime.”

The Kree sighed, but nodded, “It will be done.

At that announcement Sunny suddenly grabbed krill by his shoulder and hauled him back into the darkness just in time for the Kree to step out of the office followed by the Tesraki senator.

WIth one hand over Krill’s mouth, Sunny pulled the two of them behind a very large potted plant, watching as the two made their way down the hall. 

They had just disappeared around the corner, when Krill turned to look at Sunny, “Why didn’t we jump them?”

Sunny turned to frown at him, “Because what were we going to do, threaten to eat him? Besides, no one would believe us, at least not here. I have a better idea.” “A better idea?”

“Just trust me”

***

Admiral Vir pulled his jacket up against the rain as they came to the launch field. It wasn’t that far away from the department, so they had to keep a low profile, which was hard as two humans, though the cover of rain helped some. The Detetive checked around the landing strip and then motioned the admiral to follow him quickly. Adam did as told and hurried after him, until they came upon  a little black/silver ship at the back of the lot.

Adam raised an eyebrow, “A rundi short cruiser, how did you manage to score one of these babies.” he ran his hand along her smooth aerodynamic hull.

“A what? Oh this thing.” He shrugged, “It was given to me for this mission.”

Adam frowned, “This thing? You mean this work of art.

The man just stared at it, ‘It’s a spaceship.”

“It is a shuttle that can warp! And you are calling it just a spaceship. It’s one of only ten ships in existence like this. The Detective shrugged unimpressed, and Adam sighed long and loud, “You have no appreciation for the finer things in life. I bet you don’t even know how to drive it.”

“Its autopilot, why would I want to drive it?”

Adam put his head in his hands, “You’re going to make me cry.”

The door to the little ship hissed open, and the two of them climbed inside. The interior was almost as sleek as the outside, and Adam couldn’t help but run his hands over the console and controls as he went to take a seat in the copilot chair as the other man sat down and began slowly flipping up pre programmed controls.

Adam sighed as the detective flipped through the instruction manual.

“Do you want to drive/” The other man snapped 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Adam retired, reaching out a hand for the controls.

Just then the two of them were blinded as a bright spotlight beamed down upon them.

“Admiral Vir, step away from the controls and come out with your hands up.”

“Shit!” 

The detective was just reaching out to power down the shuttle, when Adam reached forward, and flicked up the last few switches with lightning speed, turning over the engine and grabbing the controls.

“What the hell are you doing!” The detective yelled “You can’t fly this thing manual, it's too fas-”

He punched the throttle, and they rocketed into the air, doing a tight barrel roll to the left narrowly avoiding the emergency shuttle and equipped high beams. The detective screamed, and then choked off as the G force slammed him back into his seat.

Adam caught their spin and leveled out, coming face to face with another three cruisers. Pulling back on the joystick with his left hand, they shot up vertically before he took them into a spinning vertical dive that had them cutting past the two shuttles, now spinning in confusion.

The Detective screamed again as they pulled out of the dive and back into a vertical climb. On the rear cameras, he could see the three shuttles meandering around in confusion, and thought they were out of the woods for a moment before another set of beams fell on them, and a sleek black ship, of a make he could not identify, fell in behind them.

He punched it harder, pulling into a tight backward loop. WIthout his flight suit the G forces behaved brutally causing his vision to blacken at the edges, but by tensing his belly and chest, he continued to force blood into his head. Off to the side, the G force had been to much for the Detective who was hit with a sudden bout of G-lock and passed out, flopping against his harness like a fish.

He pulled out of the dive just behind the pursuing shuttle, and then quickly cut up and left, pushing the ship to the extremes of it’s speed. As they rose higher into the atmosphere there was an automatic cachunk as the atmospheric engine moved over to the compressed warp/funsio nengine.

The detective flopped around like a dead fish for a few more seconds before his head slowly rolled back upright. He looked horribly green.

“IF you throw up I swear to the Leviathan, I am going to kill you.”

Behind him the little black ship was maintaining a distant pursuit with some difficulty.

Once out of the atmosphere and heading into high orbit, Adam reached down and engaged the warp. 

The detective reached out a hand, “Wait!”

But it was too late, the universe around them began to spiral, folding over on itself and reflecting back the space like a mirror. The feeling was terrible like being folded in half or pulled apart as everything far away appeared close and everything close appeared far away.

Admiral Vir felt himself getting ready to pass out against the full power of an undampened warp his brain unable to fathom what he was seeing as space around them was compressed.

They came out with a sudden jolt that threw them against their seats jerking them forward and then back with a sudden halt.

The Detective groaned piteously where he was passed out in his seat Ad had barely retained consciousness, but shook it off as he reached out to grab the controls.

A soft dripping noise had him turning his head to the side, upon which time he grinned rather smugly and turned his head back to the front where the rundi planet, Irus, glowed like a blue and orange marble against the sky. The Detective didn’t wake up for a good few minutes, but when he did, he was soon followed by cruising and a face reddened by embarrassment, “Your first undampened  short warp I take it?” Adam said grinning.

HTe man didn’t answer.

Still grinning, adam laughed, “Don’t worry, it happened to the best of us at one point. Most people aren't able to keep their bladder in check during thief first warp.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that.”

“Well aware, but at least this asshole isn’t sitting in a puddle of his own urine.” His merriment was shut up a few second later as their shuttle jerked violently forward, “Shit!” He yelled, forcing the ship back onto it’s trajectory. He took a look at the back camera to see that, somehow, the other ship was still following them.

“Hold on to your hat!” He yelled, punching the throttle and rocketing them towards the blue surface of the planet.

THe Detective screamed again as they roared into the atmosphere at incredible speeds, fire licking up at the sides as atmospheric friction caught up with them. Adam knew what he was doing, he knew just how much power it would take to burnt through the hull or rip off her wings. Knowing his opponent had a less advanced ship, he hoped that they would either, overestimate their abilities or pull back.

And he was right, they did for a while, though not in time as a contingent of Rundi defence ships shot up after them demanding identification over the radio. He was too busy flying to respond, and the Detective could barely function as a human being. The other ship was swarmed, but Adam managed to pull them down into a tight inverted roll backwards and vertical before pulling up and rolling to the side.

The manuver was more than the rundi ships could handle and they lost him as they roared towards the planet.

The city was closer now, close enough that he could see the spires of the GA council chamber. 

He soared over the launch filed.

“What are you doing!” The detective yelled 

“We don’t have time!” Adam snarled pulling back on the joystick and reversing the thrusters to come to a halt right over the open GA courtyard, WIth steady hands he lowered himself into the open plane as delegates divided out of the way. Guards ran from the outer edge and inward surrounding his ship.

He turned and threw open the doors running out into a wall of heat that battered against him without mercy. The guards froze in confusion as they saw him, and he took the moment to push past.

Behind him the detective staggered out onto the marble barely able to walk, moving about like he was drunk.

WIth a steady stride, adam made his way towards the council chamber.

***

“And as the presented evidence shows, Admiral Vir is a murderer.” The Tesraki delegate announced shocked whispers rising up around him as they stared as the video footage, “In light of these events, I move to-”

At the end of the hall, a door onto the floor slammed open, and everyone turned in shock just in time to see a vrul and a Drev step onto the floor. The Drev was just about to open her mouth to speak when another door slammed open.

The entire delegation moved to their feet with shouts of shock and surprise as Admiral Vir stepped onto the floor, “I OBJECT!.” he paused frowning, “Wait, that’s for weddings isn’t it.”

The chairwoman stood, “Admiral Vir, What do you have to say for yourself.”

Before he could say anything Sunny cut in, “He’s being framed!”

The Tesraki counselor rose to his feet, “Lies, do you have proof?”

“Uh, well no.”

“YES!”

Adam turned to sunny, shook himself and turned back to the delegation, “Er YES!” he turned his head to look at Sunny, “We do/”

She stepped forward, “I have evidence that admiral Vir was being framed, framed by.” She turned and jabbed a finger at the Tesraki, “YOU.” He stepped back in shock, and a muttering rose up around them.

“How dare you.”

Sunny marched forward and past the guards, reaching up to hand something to the chairwoman, who took it and passed it to an assistant, who hurried over to insert the chip into their system.

A voice rose over the speakers, “Get out there, FIND HIM and make sure he doesn’t ruin this for me. If this all works out, by the end of the month I will be chairman of the GA, and the humans will simply be an afterthought.” said the Tesraki delegates voice.

Hundreds of eyes turned to look at him in open shock.

He stepped back hand raised, “I have no idea where this came from.

THe second Tesraki delegate stood a look of absolute rage on her face, “How could you!” she snapped, “How could you betray us like this.”

He stammered, “But he, he escaped prison, he killed the detective!”

Just then, the doors at the end of the room opened up and the Detective came waddling into the room looking miserable and nauseous, but very much alive. Following him Came the Tesraki detective, hauling an unconscious Kree in his wake, who he dumped on the floor as soon as he made it to the center.

The Tesraki was looking a little more worse for ware, his ear torn, green blood staining his fur

He raised a hand and pointed a finger at the delegate, “The Admiral is telling the truth, he was framed, and THIS TESRAKI threatened my department to do it. I was scared at first as my family is in grave peril but I couldn't stand by and watch a good man be framed for selfish reasons.” He turned to the delegation, “He is angry that the humans have taken so much Tesraki economic power, despite the fact that.” he turned an accusatory eye on the Tesraki, “The average citizen has never been so well off. Because of human tourism, we are thriving. The only one’s different are the corporations, and now this Tesraki would have it so we go back to the old days when the average citizen was poor and the elite ruled.”

Sunny nodded, “There is more to that recording. We tracked it by following the a spy who was charged with making tampered video footage to incriminate Admiral Vir. You know him, you know him as a human who has always worked for the betterment of the GA. There is no chance that he could have done anything lie what they are saying.

There was a pause in the crowd for a moment, and then Lord Celzex stood, “IT is as I said, Admiral Vir would never do such a crime, and we have no reason to believe he would start now.”

The Tesraki delegate snarled, though was almost immediately cold cocked in the face by the other Tesraki delegate as guards moved in from the sides of the room to detain the Tesraki and the Kree.

In the chaos Admiral Vir and Sunny were pushed to the side, pinned into a small corner.

She looked down at him, and he looked up at her.

“Thanks for having my back.”

She smiled, “no problem, I’ve decided I want to keep your around for a while.”

He grinned, “I hope you do.” He stretched up on the balls of his feet and she leaned down, their foreheads pressed against one another for a quick moment before disengaging and beng swept away on the tide of questions and confusion. 

[dameronology]

the one where he doesn’t listen (poe x reader)

summary: poe dameron + ‘i think we should take a break’ ‘you’re right - we’ll get some food, cool down and then we can talk about this’ no, i mean a break from us’

warnings: language 

i PROMISE i am working on some fluff, i know literally everything i’m writing at the moment is angst but like 80% of my requests are for angst...and i just hope u guys are okay lol love u 

enjoy,

- jazz

‘Would you just listen to me?!’

You ignored the calls of your boyfriend, violently kicking open the door to the air hangar. You stormed inside, a scowl on your face - you didn’t notice Jessika and Snap jump back at the sight of you. You breezed through the base, boots thumping into the concrete floors, steps like thunder. You couldn’t even look at Poe - you might throttle him otherwise.

You usually embraced his rebelliousness. His courage was one of the many things you loved about him - but this was your mission. You were the commander. It was a different story when he was ignoring your orders. The whole operation had been blown up because he couldn’t listen for once in his life. 

‘Baby, please-’

You stopped in your tracks, and Poe crashed into your back with a grunt. You turned to face him, and for a split second, he held out his arms. The action, however, was quickly retracted when you jabbed your finger into his chest. He silently thanked whichever god was up there that looks couldn’t kill - if they could, yours would have been a weapon of mass destruction.

‘The one time I need you to listen!’ You snapped. ‘The one fucking time, Poe!’

‘I said I was sorry-’

‘- sorry doesn’t get me my mission back!’ You continued, cutting him off. ‘Sorry doesn’t change the fact you ignored me. Sorry doesn’t change the fact you went against my direct orders!’

There was a little bit more to it than his disobedience. You weren’t a superior behind a comms link, barking orders at him. You were his partner - the one person you’d hoped would be the exception to his insubordination. That was what was causing most of the fuel behind your rage. 

Poe bit his lip, nodding. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

‘How?’ You snorted. ‘You find a time machine and go back and unfuck this up for me?’

He grimaced, hopelessly scrambling to find something - anything - to say that could possibly calm you down. ‘I’ll explain it to Leia. I’ll take the fall.’

‘That was gonna be the case anyways.’ You murmured. 

Poe reached out to grab your hand, but you swatted it away. 

‘Don’t.’ You shook your head. ‘Look, I’m gonna go to my quarters and get the mission report done. I need time to think - and maybe a wall to punch.’

‘Wait,’ His mouth dropped open, and that was when the magnitude of his actions finally seemed to click. ‘This isn’t gonna change anything is it, for us?’

You knew the us that Poe was referring to - and he didn’t mean your professional relationship. He meant the us, us. The us that had sneaky kisses and escapades in broom closets. The us that laid together at night in each other’s arms, discussing everything from from work that day to theories about the deepest, darkest galaxies. The us that might have been the only stable thing in Poe Dameron’s unpredictable life. 

‘I don’t know.’ You sighed. ‘I just need time to think.’

You paused, the volume of the situation beginning to cause the descend down a slippery slope of misery and rage. 

How could he do this to you? You knew that the flyboy was capable of some exceptionally dumb things, but this one took the crown. This was the grand finale that completed The Chronicles of Poe Dameron’s Dumbassery (patent pending). 

Poe grabbed your arm, glancing around at your co-workers. Most of them had left the room when you entered - news of the mission had quickly spread about the base and people did not want to get in your way. Even Threepio had made a point to not go near you. Still, the pilot dragged you from the walkway and towards an empty space behind his X-Wing. The ship was splattered with dents and chips from the TIE fighters that had chased you out of the planet you’d been on. Perhaps that would be the epilogue in the aforementioned book.

‘Baby,’ his voice almost broke, desperate as he grabbed your face in his hands. ‘I would give anything to go back and undo what I did, literally anything, but I can’t-’

‘- I know you can’t.’ You moved his hands, momentarily intertwining your fingers. ‘It can just be so exhausting, Poe. I love you so much but you don’t think about the people around you.

You moved away from him, propping yourself up against the ladder of his jet. Your feet swayed back and forth for a moment as you thought. You were hurting- teetering on the edge of pure insanity, ping-ponging between your intense love for the man in front of you and your frustration at the situation.

‘I think we should take a break.’

You knew that you didn’t mean it. The second the words left your mouth, you wanted to swat them out the air, throw them to the ground like dead flies. Some childish part of you just wanted to scare him, to make him feel what you’d felt. 

‘You’re right,’ Poe nodded. ‘We’ll get some food, cool down and then we can talk about this-’

‘- no, Poe.’ Your voice cracked slightly. ‘I mean a break from us.’

‘You’re breaking up with me?’

‘No, not a break up. Just a break.’ You stood up.

You saw the hurt on his face; the anguish, the torment. More than ever, you wanted to wrap your arms around him; to hug him, to run your hands through his stupidly soft hair and hold him and promise to hurt whoever it was that was causing his distress. But it was you. Was love always this much agony?

‘I gotta clear my head.’ You whispered, slipping by him as you walked away.

--

A few hours later, you were even more angry that you had been when this whole thing started. You were no longer just enraged at Poe - you were now pissed off with yourself. Why had you said that? Why had you let the heat of the situation push you over the edge and say such stupid things?

Three hours without Poe by your side felt like a lifetime - a long, sad, empty lifetime. You’d been sat on your bed, handing resting on the empty space where he should have been. You were still furious at him but that didn’t mean you wanted to be without him.

You let out a sigh, watching as BB-8 circled the floor in front of you. He’d followed you back from the hangar, beeping something about relaxation methods. But aside from that, he’d been pretty silent. You felt like he was a kid who’d seen his parents have a fight. 

‘Where is Poe?’ You asked quietly, moving down to kneel in front of the droid, fixing his antenna. ‘In Finn’s room? I know right, where else?’

Grabbing the nearest jacket from your desk, you tugged it over your shoulders. As the heavy leather fell over your torso, you realised it with Poe’s - he’d lent it to you on your third date. It occasionally lead to a few awkward situations where you, Finn and Poe all turned up wearing matching jackets, given that the pilot had also gifted one to his friend. 

You made your way to Finn’s quarters, BB-8 rolling behind you. He’d perked up a bit at the prospect of his parents you and Poe working it out. Nobody liked to see you guys fight. You knocked on the door twice - usually, you were close enough with Finn to walk in unannounced, but with the given circumstances, you didn’t want to just swan inside.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and he greeted you with a smile. ‘Y/N!’

‘Hey, Finn.’ You greeted him. BB-8 nudged past his leg, rolling inside without waiting for an invitation. 

‘Poe’s inside.’ He said, stepping aside. ‘I’ll give you guys some space, but please don’t do anything in my bed.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘Finn.’

‘Just saying!’ He ruffled your hair as you walked by.

Poe was sat on Finn’s bed, a holopad in one hand and a cup of caff in the other. He’d clearly heard the exchange at the door and was trying to play it cool - something at which he was failing miserably. 

‘Hey,’ you greeted him quietly. You gently took a seat on the bed next to him, pulling the holopad from his hands. ‘Wanna talk?’

‘Is there much to say?’ His voice was cold, and you almost did a double take.

‘Poe,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t want to break up, or go on a break, or whatever it was that I said.’

His brown eyes lit up slightly, and he finally turned to look at you. The last three hours had been equally painful for him - he thought he’d lost you. There was a lot of things that terrified him but there was nothing that scared him more than the idea of life without you by his side. He would have rather gone up against Kylo Ren with a pencil for a weapon than let go of you.

‘I got caught up in the heat of the moment,’ you continued. ‘You hurt me, and I think I was reaching for something that might make you feel the same.’

‘Well, you made me feeling something that was deep, dark and pretty terrible.’ Poe tried to joke, but he couldn’t hide the wavering in his voice. He reached to take your hands in his, and your heart broke when you realised they were shaking. ‘But that’s not a lot compared to what it feels like to lose a mission - especially because of me.’

‘I don’t care that we lost the mission. That happens all the time - it just hurts that you didn’t listen to me.’ You explained. ‘I guess I felt like you didn’t respect me.’

‘I do!’ Poe’s eyes widened. ‘I would...I would do anything for you. You know that, right? You tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it-’

‘- I just want you to listen to me.’ You cut him off. ‘That’s it.’

‘I can do that.’ A smile finally fell onto his lips. He pressed a kiss to your lips, and you felt yourself finally relax. You were going to be okay.

‘I’m still fucking furious at you, though.’ Your words didn’t quite match your actions; with one hand tangled in his hair and one resting on his face, you seemed to be more sweet than intimidating. ‘But I love you, and whatever this is, we’re gonna work through it.’

‘I love you too.’ He pulled you in for another kiss. ‘And I will never, ever do anything stupid again.’

‘I give it five minutes tops.’

[darthspideys]

antithesis // six

din djarin x jedi! reader

summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming.

words: ~2k

a/n: No thoughts... only that next weeks episode is called “The Jedi” and we’re finally gonna get to see ahoska tano in live action.... 

disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows

It’s nighttime when you get to Yavin IV. Somehow you’d convinced him that if he wants to know where the child comes from, the three of you need to go there first. It’s comfortably silent, and stagnant, not even a breeze blows through the trees.  You touch down as quietly as you can, and you breathe a sigh of relief as soon as you get your feet in the grass. You take off your shoes, which surprises Din. “I told you, I grew up on a farm,” You tell him. 

“Does not explain not wanting to wear shoes.” 

“I haven’t felt grass in forever,” You reply. 

“You miss home,” He observes.

“Come on,” You say, as the child squirms in his arms, “We’re almost there.” 

The door opens to the house and Kes Dameron steps out onto the porch, blaster drawn. Din reaches for his own blaster but you grab his hand to stop him, and signal him to stand back as you walk forward. You walk towards the house slowly, ready to dodge if he shoots which you don’t think he will. 

“Hey,” You say, arms raised. “It’s me.” 

He looks at you in shock and lowers the weapon. You see a figure crouched behind his legs, but as soon as you step into the light of the porch a little boy runs out into your arms. You smile as soon as you see him, and you scoop him up into your arms. Poe Dameron squeals your name, and you squeeze him tight. “Hi kid, I missed you.” 

“You did?” His eyes are just like his mothers and they look at you with wonder. 

“Of course I did,” You say, trying to hide the tiredness in your voice. 

 Kes finally leaves the porch and comes out to meet you, you can tell even more so now that he’s surprised to see you. To be fair, you're surprised that you came back as much as he is but desperate times. “Hi,” He says never taking his eyes off you. 

“Hi.” You say back, allowing yourself to have a moment. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, finally.

“I’m in trouble, just a little bit.” 

“Oooh,” Poe coos from your arms, “Are you going to get a timeout?” 

“I don’t know,” You tickle him a little and he giggles, “Maybe.” 

“What kind of trouble?” Kes asks you. 

“The Jedi kind,” You sigh, “You’re not in danger but I need a place to lie low for a couple of cycles, and I need to use the tree.” 

“Of course,” He says, “I still don’t know how you use that thing but it’s all yours.” 

“I’ve explained it to you, multiple times,” You narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t listen,” You break with a smile. 

“Probably because it makes no sense.” 

The trees rustle and you turn your attention back to the tree line. You forgot that Din was there, oops. “Also I brought a-friend with me.” As if on cue, Din steps out of the tree line and Kes is surprised again. 

He looks at you with wide eyes, “Did you go home?” 

That’s a loaded question and he knows it. He should also know that you wouldn’t find him at home, though most people have a different definition of home than you do. “I didn’t, I just happened upon him.” 

“That’s very coincidental considering the fact that you-“ 

You cut him off, by punching him in the arm when Din gets close enough to hear you. “Just a coincidence,” You say with a smile, signaling to him that the conversation about that is over. “Anyways I appreciate you doing me this favor and-“ You turn to Poe, who’s beginning to fall asleep in your arms, “shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

He’s asleep now and you smile, walking into the house with Din at your heels. The two men stand in the kitchen as you put the young boy to bed in his room, you tuck him in softly and close the door quietly. 

You see the way that Kes is looking at you from the kitchen counter, and you sigh. You turn to Din, “You should probably go check on the ship.” He looks at you confused at first, but eventually he nods and walks out of the front door. You turn to Kes, bracing yourself for the conversation you’ve been avoiding for the past year. “So.. long time no see.” 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” 

A long drawn out pause ensues, “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you, like I always have been. I don’t know what to say here.” You keep your distance, “I’m not going to say I’m sorry because I know it will just make it worse.” 

“But you are sorry?” 

“Of course I am.” 

“You told me you were done with Mandalorians years ago.” 

You knew he was going to bring it up, you cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, “I am.” He’s going to push it, and he’s going to push your buttons because he knows what they are. He’s angry with you, it doesn’t take a genius to know that, and on some level he has every right to be. 

He crosses his arms in an attempt to mimic you and gives it right back to you, “It doesn’t look like it.” 

“It’s a long story,” You start, knowing that he’ll tell you that he has time so you continue on with the story. “That child he has is force sensitive and I need it before it causes too much trouble. I didn’t think a Mandalorian was protecting it. You saw Mandalore, I didn’t think any of them were left.” 

He looks at you in a way that you used to beg him to. He looks like he wants to reach across the table and grab your hand, “I know but-” 

“What?” You ask, though you already know what he’s going to say. You know exactly what this whole conversation has been about, the issue that he’s been trying to unearth. It’s not about Din, it never was, it always was about you and where you’ve been. 

“It’s been a long time, and you just show up out of nowhere. You didn’t even want to come, you just needed something from me.” 

“I wanted to come,” You say, with emotion tickling at the back of your throat. You really don’t want to talk about it, but you figure that you're going to have to face it now or later. “It’s hard for me too, to be here, to see the two of you-”

“Hard for you? It’s harder for me and my son-”

“I can’t do anything about that!” You raise your voice louder than you mean to. “She was my best friend, Kes, and I miss her but I cannot be here,” You pause trying to hold back the emotion in your voice that threatens to overtake your entire argument. “You don’t want me here,” You say quieter than the rest of it, “Neither of you want me here. I am not his mother, I cannot be his mother, and you-” That’s a whole other thing altogether. “You don’t want me here.” 

His voice is softer this time, “I want you here.” 

You know what he means, you know what all of this means, and you’re mad at yourself for even coming here knowing what you know and knowing the history. He thinks he wants you here, but he doesn’t. What he wants is  his wife back and he’s trying to hold onto you like you're some piece of her that’ll fit into a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Maybe you are, maybe you hold some piece of her with you, but you still don’t fit. 

“I told you I couldn’t be here, I told you that this isn’t my life and that I couldn’t do all of this. There will always be people looking for me, always someone who wants to kill me and everyone that I love, I won’t put you in harm's way.” 

“And suddenly I’m getting a sense of deja vu.” 

“You ask me everytime to stay and I tell you that I can’t. It’s the same story, so what makes you keep asking?” 

“Because every time I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Well maybe if you didn’t want me to leave you could stop being so mad when I show up.” 

He’s smiling, “Can’t help it.”

“I know, being a jerk comes so naturally to you,” You laugh a little. “I will stop avoiding you from now on. I will come back here to your stupidly beautiful farm and stay for a couple of days at least.” 

“I’d ask you to promise-”

“-but you know I don’t do that.” 

“Speaking of things that you don’t do, I think that you should reveal something personal about yourself.” 

“To you?” 

“To him.” 

You roll your eyes, “And what do you suggest I tell him? That I don’t make promises, that I spent six months on a swamp planet with a tiny green thing, that I crashed two x wings in the course of two weeks and or something else that shatters the image I’ve built up of myself.” 

“You always want people to be afraid of you.”

“I don’t want people to challenge me, very different.” 

“I don’t think it's going to make him want to challenge you.” 

You sigh, “I know, but it feels like I’ve lied about it this entire time.” 

“Well the best remedy for that is to just come clean.” 

You get up from the table and walk out into the yard. The tree glows blue in the harsh moonlight, you're drawn to it like you always are, like you're sure Luke was the moment he first laid eyes on the sapling. The way the force flows through it is familiar, you don’t know if it has the answers you're looking for but what scares you more is not finding them. 

You reach out to the tree, putting your hand against its body. The energy is even more powerful when you can touch it yourself, like how the force is clearer when Jedi meditate together. It’s about the physicality of touch, the bringing together of hands, the closeness that comes from being able to hold onto someone or something and not want to let go. 

You know Din is behind you before he even says anything, you've become more sensitive to the way he moves, the tiny telltale signs that he's close.

“I was looking for Mandalorians before I found you. I went to Mandalore after the empire-” You don’t even say it, “I stood in the ashes of the capitol and wondered where it all went wrong, and then I wondered if there were more. Which is more than just curiosity.” 

“I figured it was more than that,” He says. 

“So you know what it is then?” 

You realize as you close your eyes and feel in tune with the tree that you should just come out with it. You’ve been with him for three days now, and if he wasn’t already suspicious then he should be. You turn around and his helmet is in his hands. 

“I’m Mandalorian.”

“You’re Mandalorian.”

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 18/?

MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/N comes back to camp, where several people are waiting to welcome her. But she can’t stay long, especially with Finn and Murphy out there. Bellamy doesn’t take too kindly to a figure from Y/N’s past.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of a massacre, swearing, guns, death.

Notes: MY BOY DESERVES FUCKING BETTER JROTH! Anyway, I decided y’all needed some healing after that last episode so please enjoy this long chapter filled with plenty of Bellamy/YN. 

If any of you guys ever need to talk about 7x13 and what happened, I’m always here for you. Based on 2x05 “Human Trials”

***

Her breath threatened to betray how strained she felt from the walk to Factory Station and back. She clutched Monroe closer to her. The two women, suffering from similar wounds, leaning on each other for support as they struggled to cross the last few meters.

Her side split in pain, legs buckling underneath the weight of Monroe on her shoulders. She thought she could feel the stitches in her leg come undone.

“They’re back!” Someone shouted as they collapsed against the grassy fields, Octavia relieving the weight by taking Monroe off her hands. Y/N raised herself up, leaning against Bellamy for support.

“I’ve got you sparky.” He whispered, a reassuring smile on his face. Y/N couldn’t find it in her to berate him about the nickname. Her energy cells were depleted, and her leg was ready to bust open. “You’re going to be okay,”

Her balance was thrown off by a body colliding into her, disbelief erupting in her body as she removed her arms from Bellamy’s neck to her long lost friend. The blonde curls impedeing her vision confirmed her theory. Clarke was home.

Clarke was safe.

“You’re okay” She murmured through tears threatening to escape her, voice breaking, “You’re alive.”

She felt Clarke’s smile against her shoulder, “I thought I’d never see you again,” The blonde murmured, tightening her embrace, not ready to let go.

“Neither did I.”

When the two women let go, Clarke shared another tight embrace with Bellamy and Y/N felt herself almost plowed over by another body colliding with hers.

“Holy shit you’re actually alive,”

Her heart almost stopped when she heard the voice in her ear, hands running through the dirty blonde waves that had once been so familiar to her.

She pulled away, unable to believe who she was seeing. “Kyle?” Her voice broke as she said his name for the first time since solitary.

“Hey Sparky,” Wick’s eyes glazed over before pulling her back in for a hug, arms tightening once again around her waist as she buried her face in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his familiar frame, “I missed you,” He whispered in her hair.

She pushed herself away, wrestling herself out of his stupidly strong grip. “Hey,” she spoke through unshed tears, voice thick with emotion, “Feelings are dumb remember?”

He let out a chuckle and she forgot how much she missed hearing him laugh. “Right,” Wick replied, pulling her inward toward his side, “Feelings are stupid.”

She let out a similar chuckle before a cough threw them out of their reunion. Y/N locked eyes with Bellamy, her throat constricting as nerves jumped upward at the thought of them meeting. This was going to be awkward.

***

Bellamy curled his lips at the sight of the taller guy holding Y/N so close to him, and he didn’t really like the anger stirring within his stomach as he caught the looks they gave each other.

Not that he had any claim over her, but he thought they were headed toward something at least.

“Who’s this?” He asked, trying to keep the irritation from leaking through his voice.

Y/n swallowed before plastering a bright smile on her face, “This is Wick, he was my partner in engineering on the Ark.”

“In more ways than one.” Wick remarked, garnering a playful snort and a smack across the chest from Y/N.

Bellamy nodded, hoping the white hot rage deep in his gut wasn’t visible to everyone the way he thought it was. What the hell did he mean? Who was he to talk about her that way?

“Anyways,” Y/N continued, gesturing toward him, “This is Bellamy, he’s my…”

He swallowed as she creased her eyebrows, struggling to find a way to define their relationship. “He’s my co-leader.” She settled on, and he tried to ignore the way his shoulders seemed to deflate at the sound of the term. He had hoped they were something more.

He wanted to be something more.

Didn’t she?

“Nice to meet you man.” Wick offered his hand out, which Bellamy took for the sake of being polite. “Y/N’s told me all about you, you know before Councilor Sydney went all batshit and crashed the exodus ship.”

“Wait?” Y/N asked, “That was her? That makes so much more sense.”

Wick nodded, wanting to continue talking. Bellamy was grateful for Clarke’s interjection.

“We can play catch-up later” She announced, turning back toward Bellamy and Octavia, “Where’s Finn?”

He saw the hope in her eyes die as Bellamy uttered those three words. “Looking for you.”

Clarke stepped back, ready to launch into a series of questions about what had transpired until a gasp of pain coming from Y/N’s mouth tore them from their conversation.

“Y/N?” Wick’s trembling voice came from Bellamy’s side, the two boys rushing forward to catch her as her leg buckled “Hey, Sparky can you hear me?” Bellamy shoved down his irritation at the use of the nickname and focused on Y/N’s smaller frame. 

“Come on,” He urged, pulling her into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, almost fading out of consciousness from how hard she had walked. His breathing increased rapidly, heartbeat pounding against his ribs as they made their way to the med tent, Bellamy’s gaze never leaving hers.

If they had he would’ve caught the look of realization crossing Clarke and Wick’s faces.

***

For the first time in a very long time, Y/N actually felt somewhat normal. Her leg was hardly bothering her anymore and she could actually move it without worrying too much about any extra pain.

“Hey Sparky,” A familiar voice called beside her, and she smiled in relief as she realized that her reunion with Wick hadn’t been a dream.

“Hey Kyle,” She moaned as she pulled herself up, the lack of sleep over the past few days finally catching up to her. “Where’s everybody?” She asked through a yawn as she gazed around the medical walls surrounding her. She drew her eyes to the gaping hole in her jeans as she ran her fingers down the perfectly neat stitches, the other hand embracing Kyle’s. “How did I get here?”

“Bellamy Blake,” Wick responded, the slightest smirk on his face as he leaned back, releasing his grip on her hand, “You know I think he really cares about you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, shifting her weight so her legs hung off the table, ready to jump to the ground. “I’m not doing this now.”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted me to come down to help with this situation.” Wick brought up, and she groaned, her feet slapping the floor as she remembered their conversation from long ago.

“I hate that you remembered that.” She uttered, able to walk better than usual. Her eyes glanced around until they fell on a pile of clothes not that far away.

Wick stood up to follow her, “I remember a lot of things, like how Jackson said that you shouldn’t spend anymore time on that leg until it’s fully healed.”

Y/N scoffed, ripping off her tank to replace it with a grey thermal from the pile. Wick’s eyes lingered on her torso, eyebrows shooting themselves up into an arch.

“You gonna stop staring or do I have to close that mouth of yours myself?” She teased, the familiar flirtation sending something uncomfortable ripping through her. 

She hated this feeling. 

She hated the fact that even having Wick here was bringing these memories back.

She hated that it wasn’t Bellamy she was trading innuendos with.

Y/N ignored the smirk spreading across Kyle’s face as he leaned back, “You were the one who broke things off, so just remember that when you want some of this.” He defended, gesturing to his body.

She threw her head back and cackled, the sound freeing her from some of the responsibility she had been shouldering since she came down.

It was true what they said.

Laughter really was the best medicine.

“You come all this way to try and rekindle something Wick?” She used his last name, knowing it was less intimate. First names meant something to them, they didn’t just throw it around because they could.

“Actually I’m here to check on you,” His eyes flickered to her bare legs as she pulled on a new pair of jeans, lacing up her boots as she turned to face him. “And to tell you that your friends are planning on going after the two you left behind.”

Finn and Murphy.

They were still out there and Clarke was back home.

As if sensing her confusion, Wick continued to explain, “The council’s cutting them loose, Raven and I are helping you guys sneak out.”

Y/N bit her cheek mirthlessly, “Great, when do we leave?”

The medical flap opened, revealing Raven standing there with a brace surrounding her bum leg, a duffel bag of rifles around her shoulder as she handed Y/N a pistol. “Now.”

***

Bellamy failed to hide his surprise upon meeting Raven and Y/N at the electric fence, the latter in fresh clothes with a pistol strapped to her side.

“I don’t like you coming with us.” He muttered, shifting his gaze between the two women.

“It’s a shame I don’t listen to you then.” She smirked, handing him a rifle as the pitter patter of footsteps rounded the corner.

Clarke smiled at the two of them, “Nice to see that not everything has changed.”

Bellamy scoffed, hiding the pleasure he felt at the idea of Y/N accompanying them on their journey. He liked her company, and he knew Clarke wouldn’t leave without several stashes of gauze and painkillers on her.

Octavia’s wild braids made an appearance and determination crossed her face. “I’m not letting you leave here without me.”

“Octavia--” Y/N moved before getting cut off by the other girl.

“Finn and Murphy are headed for Lincoln’s village,” She brought up, the argument clearly practiced, “I’ve been there, have you? Have they?” She threw a pointed look at Bellamy and Clarke before Y/N pulled out a pack.

“I was going to say I know.” She smirked, the two girls sharing a smile before Octavia moved forward.

“Whoa,” Raven drew her cane in front of his sister, “Not so fast Pocahontas.” Her cane touched the fence, electricity sparking and crackling as the five of them jumped back.

“I thought you said it was handled,” Bellamy growled.

“It is” Y/N spoke up, raising a radio to her mouth uttering three simple words. “Shut it down Wick.”

She handed the radio to Raven, and Bellamy once again tried to get a hold on the anger raging inside him at the thought of Y/N and Wick spending time together while he was out petitioning to save their friends.

He hadn’t been there for her. Not like Bellamy had,

The next time the cane touched the fence, nothing happened. And he supposed he had Wick to thank for that.

He sighed as they snuck out, barely catching the look Clarke gave him and Y/N as they shuffled forward behind Octavia, footsteps matching each other.

***

Bellamy shifted uncomfortably on the log, eyes locking onto Octavia’s sleeping frame, a small tug at his lips recalling everything the two had been through. Clarke slept a few beats away, curled up next to the flames, blonde hair splayed out on the grass beside him. He was grateful to have her back. Having her around made things so much easier.

When his eyes flitted to Y/N’s blanket, he perked up in worry, the pack abandoned on the forest floor as he looked around, searching anxiously for his co-leader, his friend, his...something.

“Relax,” Her soft voice answered, footsteps settling next to him before she sat down next to him, her body warming him more than any fire ever could. “I was just scouting the area,” She waved her pistol before holstering it in her pants like he once did, letting him know that she was armed and ready to defend herself.

He let out a sigh of relief before turning his gaze beside him, eyes scanning her illuminated features. She stared out at the fire before him, ponytail drifting over her shoulders as she leaned forward, elbows against her knees.

“Did you mean what you said?” He swallowed his nerves, ready to get an answer to the question that had been plaguing him since the day she got shot. “Back at the dropship, before we got seperated. Did you have feelings for me?”

He watched her shoulders tense at the question, and he knew he had taken it a step too far. They were in the middle of a war, they shouldn’t be talking about this. They shouldn’t be focusing on this, but he needed to know.

“Yes.” She breathed, eyes flickering to his mouth, “I do have feelings for you. Murphy was right.”

His chest exploded at the confirmation, nerves evaporating into relief as it pumped through his veins. 

“That’s a relief.” He joked to ease the tension, “I was afraid I had to beat Murphy if it wasn’t true.” She chuckled, the hushed laughter sending his chest pounding with pride. “Maybe I’ll beat him anyway.” He continued, his lips tugging involuntarily. “Just for kicks.”

“You should cut him some slack,” Y/N spoke up, surprising both of them before letting out a yawn “Even he and I have something in common.”

It was Bellamy’s turn to chuckle, “You should get some sleep,” He brushed a piece of hair that had fallen loose aside, pushing it behind her ear as he examined her beautiful face again, the touch sending shivers down his spine.

“So should you.” She pointed out, hands brushing themselves across the wrinkles in his forehead.

He couldn’t keep the adoring smile off his face, wanting nothing more than to press his lips against hers right then and there, to take her in his arms and forget the rest of the world existed. She made him want to be better.

She made him want to live.

“I’ll sleep when we find Finn,” He said, shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind as he remembered his own reality. “I knew what they were capable of, and I let him and Murphy leave with two automatic rifles.”

“We let them leave.” Y/N reminded him, grasping his hand in hers, drawing his gaze toward her intertwined digits. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

His gaze moved up her arm, meeting her exposed neck until it finally landed on her soft lips, and the desire to kiss her had never been greater until that moment.

It seemed so perfect.

The gap was almost nonexistent.

Inching closer and closer--

“I’m sure it was just like the dropship,” Clarke’s trembling voice rang through the fire, tearing the two apart. “It had to be done.”

Bellamy nodded slightly before shifting his gaze to the fire, one final question lingering on his mind. “How long until chocolate cake turns into being hung upside down and drained for their blood?” His voice shook, as if he couldn’t handle the truth. As if one wrong move would topple him.

“I don’t know” Clarke admitted, sitting up, “But we don’t have much time.”

Y/N nodded with him, “First we find Finn,” She chimed in, “And then we rescue our friends in Mount Weather.”

“And Lincoln.” Octavia announced, everyone finally awake. “Think we’ve slept long enough.” The rest of the group agreed.

“I’ll go find us some water to extinguish the fire.” Y/N announced, tearing herself out of Bellamy’s grasp to enter the darkened forest.

“She’s good for you Bellamy.” Clarke told him as soon as Y/N was out of earshot.

Bellamy nodded, ‘She’s good for all of us.” He said instead, ignoring the knowing look on Clarke’s face. “I don’t think any of us would’ve survived if she hadn’t been on that dropship.”

“You got that right.” Octavia snickered, a soft smile on her face as she caught the look in her brother’s eyes. “We got lucky.” She said.

Bellamy nodded, sending a look in the direction she had disappeared in. “Really lucky,” He murmured to himself.

***

“We’re almost there.” Octavia announced, continuing her way through the endless amounts of trees, “Once we reach the statue it’s only another kilometer or two.”

Y/N creased her eyebrows in confusion, she tilted her head as she linked eyes with Bellamy.

Statue?

Were there remnants of Old Earth that had survived the bombs?

Her question was answered once they stepped deep into a clearing, the dirt path stretching before them, but Y/N’s eyes were trained on a vine covered monument above her, a brief moment of awe crossing her face before a sob pulled her back to reality.

“The reapers came from there.” Octavia spoke, tears falling down her face, “I couldn’t save him Bell, I couldn’t save him.”

Bellamy pulled Octavia close, reassuring her that they would find Lincoln again and he would make sure of it. Y/N shuffled closer to Clarke, glad to have her with them as they traversed forward.

“I recognize this statue,” the blonde announced, “He was a great peacekeeper before the cataclysm.” Clarke and her stared up at the statue once again, letting Bellamy and Octavia have their moment. “I destroy my enemies by making them friends.” Clarke whispered, and Y/N tilted her head, not recognizing the quote. “It was quote of his. One that I think we need to implement.”

“How you reach the goal matters.” Y/N told herself, realizing what Clarke was hinting at, “You wanna seek peace with the grounders?” She asked, knowing it was the most logical conclusion.

Clarke nodded, “Their people are in the mountain too. We need--”

Shots rang out, pulling the foursome back to reality as they raced toward the village, hoping they weren’t too late.

They scrambled down the man-made path, dirt roads and statues forgotten as their eyes graced the horror awaiting them at the grounder village. A burnt farm crumbled at their side, blood poured onto the streets and a man with a face tattoo released a guttural scream to the sky. 

They scrambled down the hill, and Y/N’s gaze went to Murphy, whose gun was slung behind him. She turned her eyes to Finn, smoke rising from the barrel of his rifle.

She leaned down next to Octavia, examining the warrior--no, the child bleeding onto the pavement beneath him.

Beside her, the sobbing man closed the child’s eyes whispering one phrase. “Yu gonplei ste odon*.”

Behind her, Finn’s crazed eyes were locked onto Clarke’s whispering a phrase of his own.

“I found you.”

***

That night her mind refused to sleep, replaying the massacre over and over, recalling the final words the man with the face tattoo had spoken to that child, the screams that followed. She couldn’t get them out of her head, and when she slept they only made things worse.

She wanted Miller here.

She wanted him to steal moonshine and tell her that things were going to be okay, to cheer her up with his awful jokes and play games together as they spilled secrets they wouldn’t whisper to anyone else.

Pulling herself out of bed, she shoved the flap of her tent open, wind rushing against her exposed legs, not caring about who saw her. His tent was close enough to hers.

No one would question it.

Especially what remained of the hundred.

Warm light flooded the room, almost blinding her as she stormed into Bellamy’s tent, the brunette rushing his hands through his hair. She suspected his mind was doing the same thing.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Was all he asked, eyes widening.

She shook her head and he gestured toward his own bed, she moved in next to him, the last of the oil in the lamp burning out as she pressed her body against his, relishing in the warmth they gave each other.

***

A/N: IT FINALLY HAPPENED!!!! Our babies are together at last! I debated about changing it so it happened much later, but after tonight I think we all could use some romance in our lives, especially with Bellamy Blake. 

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