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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

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Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉

Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.

@wltz-bby @mandy23b @happyskywhale @missunsympathetic

Author’s Note: Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for.

So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.

Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!

Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip

Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.

Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”

Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....

Words: 17,100

Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut.

_____

He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too

---

He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.

Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it. Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…

***

Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.

You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this? Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same. Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!

Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.

It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.

You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn’t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir’s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.

Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…

Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.

Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.

You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.

By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?

It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.

You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.

Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.

Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”

Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.

You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.

Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.

As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’

You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)

You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.

That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.

You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.

You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun. Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’

You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”

Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.

Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.

Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.

You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.

You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.

“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.

Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.

“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.

“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.

Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”

If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”

“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.

You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”

You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.

“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”

You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.

Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?

His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.

Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.

He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.

You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.

Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”

---

Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!?

I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys!

Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜

#200!#Orson Krennic #Ben Mendelsohn #Orson Krennic x Reader #So. FYI for everyone the original request notes end at his 'come to my quarters we have data to review' and I just... didn't stop!#Sorry I was unable to resist this and I REALLY wanted it.#For any questions on the GIF just look at his face and tell me that /isn't/ how he's looking at reader throughout this fic #That's why I picked it.#Krennic x Reader #Director Krennic x Reader #Officer Benja Vy #I had to do waaaay too much scrolling to find that-! Hahah - our conversations!#Okay so in all the fics I've written for him Lorena is the only one(s) that get smutty. So this is ALSO your first Krennic/Reader smut!!#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Rogue One #Rogue One A Star Wars Story #That... /and he had Grace Too/ line #You either cackled like I did or you groaned #it was a final edit addition at like 10pm on the night of posting #Don't hate me I thought it was clever-!

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mjsparkour · 3 years

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Okay, I asked you a while back for some fic recs and I am in need of more. Have you read any Gina x Ricky lately? Would love for you to share the ones you've loved

Hey!

I’m so glad you liked my rec the last time, there have been alot of fics that have been written since you last asked so this list was super hard to limit. There are alot in this list alone (17 overall I think). I could always recommend more, Rina writers are just so talented. So here's a list of some of my favorites <3

The Story of Us by peculiarblue

‘gina learns that sometimes things have to fall apart so that they can fall back together, right where they were always meant to be’ This is a complete 2 part chapter fic

Thee Rina bible. It’s everything we could ever want and need. Everything we want s2 to be and more. It’s an absolute masterpiece in every way. So many parts where I nearly died, the angst in the fight scene, the tension before they made up (the dress scene that reminded me so much of that amylaurie scene I lost my mind a little more), them being absolutely gone for each other!!! it’s just perfect in every way.

When Your With Me and Were Alone by orphan account

‘Ricky Bowen remembers everything.’ This is a one-shot three-part completed series.

My favorite series, it’s gotta be. It’s the first of its kind for rina fics. Lore does an incredible job of realistically writing rina’s characterization and reactions to Gina moving and what would happen after. A wonderfully talented writer, utilizing the power of her words while minimalist carries an effect.

You Know Me Better by This_is_Riri

‘Gina was moving. This would be her sixth move in seven years. She was used to it by now...only this time, it felt different. Post episode 7.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

This one really gets you at your gut. Heart-wrenching for both characters but mainly gina. The vents that happen to both characters, it just makes sense that so much more than their vunerabilities bonds them together. Perfect execution of the mutual understanding trope.

and I know I’ve kissed you before by ptrprkrs

‘but I didn’t do it right / can i try again, try again, try again? or: 5 times ricky kisses gina + 1 time she kisses back’ This is a complete one-shot.

I love a good five times plus one fic. This one is heartwarming, cheeky and cute. It gives a healthy balance of the inevitable anguish that comes with pining (and not just for the character but for frustrated readers that just wanna put these kids together already) but also the sweet innocence and fluff from first love (or first love adjacent).

what love might have done by rradioh

‘Ricky follows his gut. Everything changes. Some things stay the same.’ This is a completed one shot.

A good look into what could've been for season one. Reflecting moments that felt like they could’ve easily been placed in the show and showed the subtly of the growth of rinas relationship. It wasn’t something that was thrown into our faces but came gradually and this fic facilitates that growth with key moments that add to that. A Great one-shot.

And the 7th Thing I Hate The Most That You Do (You Make Me Love You) by iknowpIaces

‘It doesn’t help that he really does look good in his costume. God, she hates him. She hates him. She hates him. Then, he has the nerve to smile at her. And Gina hates how that smile alone sends her over the moon.’ This is a completed one shot.

SOOOO GOOD. No one understands, I love the trope where one person has a crush on the other and it's unrequited (or it seems that way) but eventually it's apparent that they're also just as gone for that person as soon as they start moving on, or feeling fine with having their feelings not reciprocated. Then they're both just mutual pining messes, ugh I love it. This fic handles the trope with care and rina just comes together organically.

lesson in love by finelineholland

“Give me 4 weeks. I’ll help you out. Like… a crash course, if you will. 'How to be the perfect boyfriend for Nini Salazar-Roberts': A class taught by yours truly.” This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

A rom-com in the form of a fic. It’s so true to Ricky and Gina as characters and their dynamic. The writing is really good and gives so much in terms of plot. I really hope it updates soon because I love a good makeover/transformation fic, it gives she’s all that and geek charming in the best ways.

take me to the feeling by peculiarblue

‘gina meets a stranger at a party she doesn't want to be at, and let's herself fall in love for the night, wherever it takes them’ This is a completed one shot.

Katie does it again. Another classic that makes us fall for rina while they fall for each other under the stars. You can’t help but feel something for them right off the bat because theirs something about the cheekiness of the dynamic and so real. You can’t help but fall for them, a must read.

The Last Time by mytearsricochet

‘this is the one where gina meets ricky and nothing is against them. except for a few misunderstandings, forgotten birthdays, wrong people, and missed opportunities. because as much as love doesn’t care about time, this is the one where time cares about love. and with time, everything falls into place.’ This is a completed one shot.

SO UNBELIAVBLEY UNDERRATED. This fic is too excellent, it's everything rinas could want. it’s an incredibly well done long slowburn that makes you strap in for the ride. With all those teasing moments where they're mutually pining and they're just on the precipice of finding out their feelings for one another only to hold back and stay friends (until the end of course). The end makes you work for it, but so worth it when you get to it.

10 Days in “Love” by kindredspiritsxo

‘It was almost the end of high school and nobody had it figured out. Especially Ricky Bowen. His parents had recently divorced, he had no idea what he's doing for college, his longtime girlfriend dumped him the month before and now he's been replaced by one of the most popular guys in school.

To make matters worse, he leaves for Europe in two days for his senior trip. The same senior trip that said ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend were going on. So, Ricky did what any desperate teenage boy would do to try and get his girlfriend back: he devised a plan. A plan that included the help of Gina Porter and playing pretend for 10 days.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

I love a good traveling fic. Sometimes all it takes to get a character to wake up about things going on in their lives or feelings for character b is a good change of scenery. This fic does a great job of utilizing the enviornment to facilitate rinas love story through one of my favorite tropes, the fake dating trope. There's some angst along the way because nothing can ever come easy but it's not without its reward. It gives me major spiderman far from home vibes just solely because of petermjs adorableness and how that energy kinda translates to rina in this fic more so in the beginning before they have this repertoire.

on the line by peculiarblue

‘with everything in her life finally at a stand still for once the last thing gina needs is one curly haired skater to come in and give her a reason to change again

(or, gina lets ricky back into her life the only way she knows how, at a distance, through daily voicemails, until her heart remembers why she can't love him anymore.)’ This is a completed one shot.

It hurts in the best way possible! that is the best way to describe this fic. Were taken on a journey where I personally wanted rina to just talk to each other in person but the magic was all in the voicemails and the power of their connection. There was a satisfying ending, I couldn't ask for more. If you haven’t read literally everything written by Katie go read it, it won't disappoint.

but everywhere just brings me back to you by ptrprkrs

‘or, ricky is just a little in love with the voice of the girl at the starbucks drive-thru’ This is a completed one shot.

An amazing fic that hits every spot effortlessly, even the ones you didn’t know you had. Like Ricky being a lovesick puppy going to a drive-thru just to hear Gina’s voice for coffee, he doesn’t drink or like. All the while they’d been connected all along. I’m a sucker for any kind of soulmate implications or stories where people are unknowingly connected like that so this ones a real favorite for me. It’s sweet, lighthearted and funny and a great read.

About Love by goldenthread

‘a series of Interconnected one shots and canonical aus for Ricky and Gina <3.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

Here's where I enter some shameless self-promo...I wrote this recently. It’s just some loosely connected one-shots I have of rina based on canon. I write about an alternate first meeting, what would've happened if Gina had to understudy Nini in a rehearsal and (for a future chapter) a babysitting au (for what happened when Gina actually told Ricky the truth, she was babysitting her neighbor's kid when she talked to him at the skatepark). Check it out if it sounds like your thing!

in your eyes by finelineholland

‘you always try to hide the pain, you always know just what to say. i always look the other way. i'm blind, i'm blind. in you eyes, you lie, but i don't let it define you.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

There is something about Rina being written about from an outside perspective that is just so excellent. The story starting with Nini noting the obvious chemistry and their connection and being threatened by it, I don’t know it's just so pleasing to me. Another fic like that one of my favorites (one that I’m pretty sure I’ve suggested in my other rec list), pretend i don’t see it in your eyes by spobylol. Another absolutely excellent read that does not miss once. This story in contrast also writes from rina’s perspective as well which I also thought was well done.

right from the start I knew by anonymous

‘“Uh.” Ricky really didn’t think this far ahead. To be fair, it’s not like he’s ever thought ahead about anything ever in his life, so this is really to be expected. “We - forget about it? Maybe. Or like - I don’t know. I think I have to figure out how to be like - a person right now. By myself.”

“Same.” Gina says absently. “I’ve spent what feels like my whole life thinking about what other people think of me. It’d be nice to - to be able to try looking beyond that for a change.”

Post-Season 1. Ricky and Nini break up, but that doesn't mean things work out right away.’ This is a completed one shot.

The most iconic love confession I’ve read in a rina fic to date. it’s just so good, a certified rush every single time. The mutual pining hits spectacularly especially when you see just how soon it starts to hit Ricky that he’d made a mistake getting with Nini and him paying for that mistake. The writing only amplifies it. Also Ricky telling Gina he’s obsessed with her? yeah, I automatically added this fic to my list of faves.

If they only knew by goldenthread

‘Ricky Bowen never really bought into the whole soulmate thing (except he did) but life got in the way and now he's sort of pretending to date new (totally not intimidating) girl Gina Porter to win back the one and only Nini Salazar Roberts. Not a single thing could go wrong.

The one where Ricky and Gina aren't so good at the whole soulmate thing and they fake date.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

More shameless self promo, sorry y’all but I’m super proud of this one. It’s a soulmate and fake dating au, combining two of my fave tropes into one to make this (surprisingly) long fic. It’s a whirlwind of emotions and a lot of moving parts in the story. I plan on updating within two months then after that there's three more chapters until its finished :) hope y’all enjoy it if you decide to give it a read!

you are the best thing & the worst thing (that’s happened to me this whole year) by tophsgf

‘Gina's roommate Nini is unbearable. What's more unbearable, however? Her very charismatic and totally off-limits sort-of boyfriend.’ This is a completed one shot.

An amazing fic, I need more people to know about it! I really like fics where the development between Ricky and Gina is gradual, which seems to be the case for a lot of fics but for this one in particular I like its execution. Obviously, at first, he’s with Nini so it’s like the dynamic is at a point of comparison from the start but we quickly learn that thanks to good ole mutual understanding and overall compatibility Ricky and Gina are just right for each other. A fun read that hits all the bases.

#rina #ricky x gina #ricky bowen #gina porter #hsm #hsmtmts #high school musical #high school musical the musical the series #nini salazar roberts #rini #rina fanfic #rina fanfiction #rina fics #gina x ricky #disneyplus #disney

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vecnawrites · 4 years

Note

Dullahan Jaune and Centaur Pyrrha?

It had been a challenge, for both of them. Both Jaune Arc, a young Dullahan man, and Pyrrha Nikos, a young Centaur female, were in love (stupidly so, if one asked Nora Valkyrie, one of their teammates). Now, that wasn't what had people confused.

It wasn't rare to see Pyrrha lying on her side on her bed, with Jaune cuddled between her arms and forelegs as they relaxed...but how did sex work between them? After all, Jaune looked perfectly human as a Dullahan, his head just detached...but Pyrrha only had a human upper half, and the lower half of a horse. So, how did it work?

This was the question asked by many, although most of them had the tact only to ask in their minds. Others, however…

"So...how does sex between you two work?" Yang asked bluntly, staring at the two across their lunch table cafeteria.

The reactions were immediate, Pyrrha going stiff and blushing fiercely, ears twitching and tail flicking side to side as she stared at the blonde in shock and slight horror, and Jaune's head coming detached from his neck, his arms snapping out to catch himself before his face met painfully with either the table or the floor, while the others of their teams stared at Yang in varying degrees of shock or disdain.

"Yang!" was the unanimous cry of the five others sitting at the table with them, some of them angrier than others. The stacked blonde held her hands up in her own defense.

"Sorry, sorry, but come on, I can't be the only one thinking of it!" the blonde tried defending herself, but it fell flat under the intense looks of her friends. “They spend so much time hidden away in Pyrrha’s room, you know they’ve gotta be having sex! So, how do they do it!? She’s got the lower half of a horse!”

Jaune glanced at his girlfriend, and he could see the flash of hurt that was quickly hidden. He knew that she needed to leave. This was making her uncomfortable. With a silent nod, Jaune rose from his seat (Pyrrha was already standing due to her anatomy), and both quickly walked away wordlessly, leaving five of their friends to glower angrily at the sixth, who was shrinking in on herself, far too late in the realization that she had gone entirely too far.

Walking quietly down the halls back to their dorm, a special one with two bedrooms due to Pyrrha's unique needs, the redheaded centaurian cleared her throat nervously. "W-would you like to cuddle, Jaune?" Inwardly, the redhead cursed herself for asking something so cliche, so- “Sure, I’d like that.” shock filled her for a moment, before she eagerly nodded and opened her door to her bedroom.

As both entered they stripped off their school jackets, Pyrrha gently climbed into her bed, folding her legs and shifting so she was on her side, allowing her tail and modified lower clothing to keep her from being exposed.

She smiled softly as Jaune slipped into the bed with her, into her hold. She had always been embarrassed by the fact that she was an extremely rare Centaur female and being so much bigger than others, but Jaune...he accepted her, never shying away from her, even if his only real form of expression upon seeing her the first time was his head falling off.

That was actually part of how they had bonded. As the only two of Monster Descent in their year, it gave them a unique bond...one that that led to them actually kissing barely a month into Beacon, here in the privacy of her bedroom.

But still, they hadn’t done more than that. They had never had sex. Part of Pyrrha was sad about that, but she would rather be sad than feel the pain of what she feared would happen, especially since Yang had brought up something very sensitive. She feared that either Jaune would be put off by sex with her, what with her having an almost completely equine lower half (only her sexual organs were human-like, or at least, able to morph human like so a male could get her pregnant.).

One nightmare involved her being on her knees and just humped away at, unable to see her mystery lover or even be allowed to take any part in the act.

Another nightmare involved her losing control and accidentally crushing her lover under her lower half when she tried to be on top.

The worst nightmare she had was of her lover, that lover being Jaune after they got together, being utterly disgusted and unwanting to touch her if she mentioned sex, leading her to more often than not waking up in a cold sweat and and with hot tears streaming down her face, her chest heaving as she gasped for the air that her body demanded.

But, just as often as she had nightmares, she had good dreams, dreams that often had her awake, red cheeked and her nethers soaking, leaving her to shamefully grind her core against one of her specially shaped bedposts for relief, imagining it was Jaune playing with her.

But still, she had no idea how to bring up her fears, her wants and desires, with her boyfriend. Shaking herself from her morose thoughts, the redhead cuddled with her boyfriend. She at least had this...

Jaune lay in Pyrrha’s arms, the powerful thump, thump, thump of her heart resounding in his ears. He knew that Pyrrha was sensitive about her half human state, hearing her crying a few nights due to it when his head had slipped out of his choker and it had rolled off the bed, stopping by her door.

He had read up on Centaur reproduction after that in during his time alone, and was shocked to see how...mechanical it was. There was very little intimacy, usually it was just a quick mounting and rutting until climax.

He knew that Pyrrha loved intimacy, almost more than anything else. She loved to hold his hand, to kiss him; hell, he rarely slept in the main bedroom with Ren and Nora anymore since she loved to use him as a ‘living’ teddy bear!

So, he knew that Yang’s words had cut Pyrrha deeply by bringing up how different they were, anatomically speaking.

He swallowed. He would have to gather his courage and bring this up, since he knew his girlfriend was skittish about it. “Pyrrha...can I ask you something?” he braved, getting his redheaded girlfriend to glance down at him, a sweet smile on her face. “Of course you can, Jaune. Anything.”

Jaune took a deep breath. “Pyrrha, we need to talk about something important...we’ve been together several months, so I think its okay...have you thought about sex?” he felt Pyrrha stiffen and saw her cheeks turn a burning red. “Pyrrha?” he gently pressed.

Pyrrha felt her heart begin to beat faster in her chest as the topic she both feared and desired came up. Opening and closing her mouth several times, she couldn’t find the words, so instead settled for quiet nodding.

“What do you think? About us? Do you want to have sex?” he could see Pyrrha trembling, feel her arms tightening around him. He winced, wondering if he was wrong. “Pyrrha-”

“I...I do...b-but...are you sure? I know my body is so...different...compared to yours...” Pyrrha hated the fact that she sounded so weak, but she didn’t think she could take it if this turned out like her nightmares-her eyes widened and steam practically escaped from her ears as Jaune kissed her, firmly yet sweetly, cupping her face.

Pulling away, Jaune rubbed his nose against hers, staring into wide emerald eyes. “Pyrrha, that doesn’t matter in the long run...as long as we both want this, isn’t that what’s important? Do you think I care that you’re different than me? You never cared my head pops off when I’m startled or overly emotional.” reaching up, Jaune gently tugged at the thick collar he wore that helped his head stay connected to his neck. “What do you want, Pyrrha?”

Nibbling her lower lip, Pyrrha shifted, feeling herself getting wet in her hindquarters, her breath growing uneven. Even still, she felt sad, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hold or kiss Jaune while he made love to her.

Evidently, she wasn’t so good at hiding it, since Jaune looked up at her in concern. “What’s wrong, Pyr? Tell me the truth.” he insisted, making her clamp down on her still knee-jerk reaction to deny her problems.

She shivered slightly. “I...it’s...I want to be able to see you, to kiss you and hold you, not just lay there and do nothing-” she found herself silenced by another kiss, this one very gentle. Breaking it, he smiled up at her.

“Pyrrha, do you want to know the best thing about both of us having our particular anatomy?” he asked, grabbing her hands and bringing them up to his face, having her cup his chin. When she did, he released her hands and moved his own behind his neck, working a bit before his collar popped off, revealing the extremely faint line that circled his neck. Seeing a confused look on Pyrrha’s face, he elaborated.

“Well, being a Dullahan and being able to separate my head can be beneficial in this case, right? We can make love...and we can still kiss.” Jaune shifted, an ethereal mist flowing out from the stump of his neck as his head disconnected, leaving his head in Pyrrha’s hands.

Pyrrha stared, wide eyed as her boyfriend came up with an answer (one so obvious she wished to kick herself) to her fears. She sniffed a bit, outright overcome with emotion, before kissing Jaune fiercely, putting every ounce of love and emotion she could into it. She gasped a bit as she felt Jaune’s hands gently beginning to unbutton her top.

She blushed brightly as her red and gold bra, custom made to hold her massive breasts, was revealed. She knew her bust was more than impressive, but it was that large for a reason-a centaur couldn’t exactly hold a foal in their arms. They had to rest on their knees and let the baby suckle from their breasts...not to mention the amount of milk necessary to satisfy a foal was large. She shivered, feeling her boyfriend’s hands gently running along her shoulders and over her upper arms. She was surprised, thinking that he would have tried going for her breasts first, but then, Jaune had never stopped surprising her since they started dating.

“Easy, Pyrrha...don’t be so tense. Its only us. We’re not being graded, we’re not being judged.” Jaune soothed his girlfriend as best he could, surprising even himself with how calm he was being. “Just do what feels natural.” he felt Pyrrha shudder under his hands as he gently rubbed his arms, and heard her tail swishing wildly a little ways away.

Pyrrha kissed him again, and he hummed, tasting the sweetness of her lips as his hands slowly ran down her arms, before moving back up and to her sides, thumbs rubbing the soft skin. He felt her legs shift as she did so, gently kicking the bedding as small whimpers came from her mouth.

Pyrrha was elated, but didn’t know what to do. There was so much she wanted to do, but she focused on kissing her boyfriend with everything she was, slipping her tongue into his mouth and rubbing against him, soft whines escaping her mouth as she felt Jaune’s hands rest where her human half merged with the equine.

It felt so good! Jaune’s broad hands shifted, spreading across her toned belly, slowly and every so sensually making their way up her abdominals. She moaned deeply into the kiss she shared with him, feeling herself getting wet underneath her tail, her core starting to wink as her arousal started burning within her and gaining momentum.

She pulled away from the kiss, both she and Jaune panting, before Pyrrha’s eyes widened and a loud squeak escaping her mouth as she felt her boyfriend’s strong hands cup her breasts, even if it was above her bra still.

“Still okay, Pyrrha?” she looked down at her boyfriend, cheeks flushed red and hazy eyed, equine ears twitching as she stared into the cerulean eyes she loved. She nodded, her head bobbing almost drunkenly. “Yesss…” she mewled as those wonderful hands gently squeezed her breasts, making her shift and wiggle around on her mattress. She never wanted this to end, she could just lay her forever and be touched by her lover…she barely noticed when Jaune’s hands slipped behind her back, but she did notice when her bra was unclipped and fell onto the bed, letting her massive breast hang free.

Emerald eyes snapped open and her cheeks burned in mortification, but she was comforted by the fact that Jaune’s eyes stayed on hers, even as she shivered and released a pleasured whimper as her boyfriend’s hands cupped her chest again, bare this time.

Jaune managed to tilt his head forward a bit, pressing his lips to hers once more, his own cheeks hot as he felt how impossibly soft her breasts were. His fingers sank into her flesh, feeling Pyrrha mewl her pleasure into his mouth as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, the flesh firming and protruding outwards, pressing against his fingers. He felt the bed shake a bit as Pyrrha squirmed more, her breath getting more rapid, her hind legs kicking out.

Pyrrha whimpered as Jaune fondled her breasts with care, her back legs shuffling and kicking, tail flicking wildly as she felt herself dripping down onto the fine hair of her inner thighs. “Jaune…” she moaned, losing control of herself and hugging his head to her breasts, throwing her head back as he began kissing the flesh of her cleavage. “Jaune!”

Jaune groaned softly, his nose filled with the scent of cinnamon (Pyrrha loved the fragrance and wore it constantly) and he pressed his lips over every inch of skin between Pyrrha’s breasts, ordering his body to continue the plan.

Slipping away, Jaune felt his body make its way towards Pyrrha’s back and rear, and he continued with the rest of his plan to keep Pyrrha distracted, beginning to lick and tenderly nip away at the soft flesh before him. He found his head being plunged further into her cavernous cleavage, but couldn’t bring himself to care-it wasn’t like he actually needed air, what with his monster type.

Pyrrha gasped and whined, more arousal than she knew what to do with flooding her body. Her body was so warm, her lower lips so wet and aching. She wanted more! Her feet kicked out lightly and she moaned, before her eyes widened as she felt her boyfriend’s hands resting on her rear, rubbing her flanks through the rough textile. “Nehiiiiiehhh!” she slapped her one of her hands over her mouth in complete and utter mortification at the whinny that slipped out of her mouth, ears drooping low and cheeks burning bright.

To his credit, Jaune didn’t pause, even with her utterly shameful display. She was thankful for that, since it was so embarrassing to lose such control over herself like that. She usually had such good control over her base instincts.

Breathy pants escaped her lips as Jaune’s hands went for her belt harness, unlatching it and slowly beginning to move the fabric away from her rump, making her quiver as she knew what awaited beneath it. Part of her was sad that Jaune wouldn’t be able to see what he had done to her, but the rest was very grateful due to her feelings about him seeing her backside.

Instead she cradled his head to her chest, blushing deeply as she was laid bare, her back legs curling up and her tail flicking to the side on instinct, exposing her soaking core, which she could feel was winking, showing anyone who could see how turned on she was.

Jaune hummed, pressed between the heavenly pillows that Pyrrha called breasts, focusing on his sense of touch. This was going to be the delicate part; he was lacking classical ‘sight’ and relying on his heightened sense of touch. He rubbed the round swells of her muscled rear before slipping his hands down and between her hind legs…

Pyrrha let out another loud neigh, eyes going wide as hands slipped between her hind legs, questing fingers running over her netherlips with precision that she didn’t think a headless body could have. Her head thrashed, crimson hair swaying like billowing fire.

Fumbling, Pyrrha grasped her boyfriend’s head and pulled him out of her cleavage and kissed him fiercely, muffling the pleased whines and moans that she would otherwise be letting out. Her emotions were going everywhere at once. She wanted to do things, but her instincts were also telling her that her mate was caring for her, to let him do the work.

But then, she was doing things, wasn’t she? She was kissing her beloved, which was more than she ever thought she would be able to do when she learned about sex. She felt her core clamping down on the questing and probing fingers exploring her body, her ears drooping down as an orgasm threatened to burst forth through her. “Jaaaauuuuunnnnneeeee…” she crooned, moaning throatily as he felt herself clamp down on those long slim digits, flexing heartily in an attempt to milk them. Heavily.

Pyrrha stared down at her boyfriend, nibbling on her lower lip. That orgasm had been...wonderful, but she...she wanted...more. She needed more from him. “Make...make love to me, Jaune…” she whispered softly. “Show me how much you desire me…” her nethers slowly loosened, allowing his fingers to slip free from them.

Looking up at his girlfriend, Jaune swallowed, seeing her wide-eyed, lust filled face. “I will, Pyrrha…” he murmured, focusing on his body again, stripping himself of his own clothing, wondering if she could handle what was to come. Sex and combat were two very different things, after all. And he...wasn’t small. He could tell she had shifted her internals to be more like that of a normal man. Hopefully she wouldn’t be stubborn when he started entering…

Feeling the humid air around them brushing across his bare skin, he fought the urge to groan with relief as his cock was finally freed from its cloth prison. He looked up at Pyrrha, licking his lips. “I...I’m going to enter you now, Pyrrha…” he breathed out, seeing her eyes widen in excitement and her ears twitch.

He felt the strength of her flank underneath his palms, and shifted himself so his tip was pressed against her soaking core. Brothers, he could feel the heat radiating off of her. Rubbing against that soaking heat gently, he prepared to ease himself in...but Pyrrha had other ideas.

“Fuck! ME!” she cried out, throwing herself back, nearly knocking Jaune’s body down as she took him to the base, his thick cock spreading her wide, his tip tapping against the entrance of her womb. Pyrrha froze, eyes wide and going stiff, a strangled wheeze escaping her mouth as she fought the combating feelings of slight pain mixed with utter fullness and incredible pleasure. “Wha...how…?” small groans emerged from her mouth as she twitched and shifted, her breaths getting deep as her cheeks flushed. She looked down at her boyfriend, wide eyed. “So...big…” she moaned.

Jaune chuckled bashfully. “Yeah...it never came up...but...I’m rather...big.” he coughed lightly, looking to the side. He winced as he felt his lover shiver.

‘Big’ was a severe understatement. Jaune was huge, comparable to an actual stallion of her kind...how did he managed to hide such an endowment from her all this time? He slept in her arms most nights anymore!

The sting of the sudden stretch now gone, Pyrrha found herself basking in the fullness of her core. Her heart swelled within her breast. She was certain he was bigger than a Stallion, she was sure. She hummed, her pussy flexing hard around the invader within her. “Oh, Jaune…” she purred, looking down at her mate, bringing him up to meet her and kissing him.

Jaune shuddered. Heat. Tightness. Pyrrha had clamped down on him with such force that he was worried his dick was going to get ripped off, but it eased down a bit, allowing him to pump slowly back and forth within her. He moaned into the kiss that Pyrrha was giving him, having never felt this good in his life.

He slowly rolled his hips back and forth, both his and Pyrrha’s moans swallowed by each other’s mouths, their breaths intermingling.

Breaking the kiss, Pyrrha cradled Jaune’s head to her chest again, practically smothering him in her breasts, as she fell to her bed, moaning and whimpering into her pillows as Jaune rocked against her backside, her four legs kicking out every now and then from the pleasure. She cried out as Jaune picked up speed suddenly, his hands firmly grabbing her flanks and thrusting hard into her, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. “Claim me, Jaune! Fill me! Make me your mate!” she cried out, already feeling herself getting close.

On some part it shamed her, being so close so fast, but she knew that this wouldn’t be the last time that Jaune would make love to her. If she had her way, Jaune would be loving her every night, filling her with his thick cock.

Jaune, surrounded by Pyrrha’s scent, could feel his lover getting close. She was rippling and flexing around him, almost attempting to milk him. He moaned, the sound lost within the flesh surrounding him. His eyes rolled back in his head as he heard a muted cry, reverberating around him, and her warm core flex and squeeze around him tightly. With a heavy growl, he came as well, his balls unloading everything they had within them.

Pyrrha cried out in joy, tears falling from her eyes as she was filled, warmth that could only be Jaune’s cum, spraying into her pussy in thick, hot streams, draining into her womb. While she knew she wasn’t in her fertile period yet, she couldn’t help but imagine their future foals. She slumped, trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, holding her boyfriend’s head tenderly. She felt him slump over her, and, pulling her boyfriend’s head out of her cleavage once more, gazing into his eyes tenderly, before kissing him once more, slowly, sweetly.

“I love you, so much, Jaune...my mate.” she murmured, kissing him repeatedly, her lips kissing every inch of skin imaginable. She felt Juane squeeze around her torso, and hum appreciatively under her kisses. “Love you too, Pyrrha...so much…”

Pyrrha cradled her boyfriend, her lover, her mate, to her as she settled into her bed, for once completely content with everything in the world as she and he slowly drifted off to sleep and into the world of dreams.

All was well.

#Arkos #Monster Girl AU #Centaur!Pyrrha #Dullahan!Jaune #Tender Moments

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jacquihyde · 3 years

Text

Nighthawks

It’s a cold winter in Gotham, and the long nights provide a perfect backdrop for mysterious, dangerous occurrences on the campus of Gotham University. Tim Drake believes that the case will be open-and-shut, but combined with the weight of the secrets he is keeping from his family, his boyfriend, and himself, the skeletons in the university’s closet may succeed in drawing him too close.

Part 2: Snow Globe Boy

Tim’s adoptive father’s parents had died just feet away from the place that Tim now called home. When Tim asked Bruce about it, all he had said was, “You’ll bring honor to their memory.” Lately, Tim had been constantly questioning whether he was fulfilling that request - which felt more like a demand, if he was being honest.

Tim was standing by the window, but he wasn’t looking outside. His attention was on his phone, more specifically, on his messages with Bernard. Tim had texted him, asking if he wanted to come over. The check mark beneath the message showed that it had been read - seven days ago.

Tim frowned. His fingers were hovering over the keyboard, but he had no idea what to say. Bernard didn’t know what he knew. Tim didn’t know exactly what had happened. Although, with what he knew about Bernard’s parents, he could certainly guess. The thought of it made his stomach turn.

Downstairs, Tim had left a program open on his computer, going through newspaper articles dating back to the time of Gotham University’s establishment. So far, there hadn’t been a single match to anything even close to what Mikaela had told him. He wasn’t optimistic that there would be one at all.

He reached up, putting a hand to his throat. There was that tight feeling again.

A knock on the window startled him out of his thoughts. Tim jumped backwards, turning towards the window. A shadow crossed it, a dark figure dressed in black and blue. It waved at him.

Tim sighed and yanked open the window. “People are going to start talking if they start noticing vigilantes on my windowsill, you know.”

Dick only grinned, climbing through the window as gracefully as ever. “No one’s going to know. What, you’re not glad to see me?”

“I didn’t even know that you were in town.”

“B needed my help with something. I thought I’d stop by.” Dick narrowed his eyes, looking at Tim more closely. “Hey, is everything okay?”

Tim furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem off.”

“I’m fine,” Tim said. “Just tired.” He felt his hands trembling and clenched his fists to hide it. Something drove into his mind, a sharp spike of fear. The world seemed off-kilter, tilted somehow.

Dick shook his head. “You really need to get more sleep, you know?” Tim had tried, he really had, but there was always something orbiting his thoughts - Bernard, Mikaela, Gotham. And sometimes it was something that he couldn’t quite put words to. Expectation, maybe. Waiting for the next thing to stack on top of everything else.

Dick was still walking around his apartment, being his usual nosy self. “God, Tim, it’s freezing in here,” he said. “You’d think that you could afford a thermostat.”

“It feels fine to me,” Tim said. He felt warm, too warm, even. He tugged at the collar of his sweater - why did the air feel so thin all of a sudden?

Dick turned around to look at Tim. “There’s snow on the ground outside, and you’re telling me -” His expression changed suddenly, alarm coating his features. “Tim?”

Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “Dick,” he gasped out. That choking feeling was even worse, a band tightening around his throat. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, nearly drowning out his own voice. “I don’t - I can’t -”

Dick was by his side in an instant. His hands came up to squeeze Tim’s shoulders. “Tim. Look at me.”

Tim shook his head frantically. It felt like he couldn’t see anything at all - he knew that that was Dick in front of him, and the couch behind him, and the wall beyond that. But it didn’t feel real. It was as if everything surrounding him was made of mist, ready to dissipate at a moment’s notice.

“Okay,” Dick was saying gently. “That’s okay. I’m just going to need you to breathe with me, Tim.”

“I can’t -”

“You can.” Dick’s voice almost, almost cut through the haze in his mind. “You can, because I’m going to help you, okay? Take a deep breath. Like this.” He took a breath. Tim attempted to copy him, but the air seemed to get caught in his throat, choking him even more. Dick ran his hands down his arms gently. “You’re doing so good, Tim. I’m so proud of you. One more, okay? Just breathe. Breathe.”

Dick’s grip on him tightened, and Tim let out a shaky breath. Hot tears stung the back of his eyes as Dick pulled him into a hug. There was something loosening inside of him, his breathing slowly becoming more even.

Looking back on it later, Tim wouldn’t remember what happened next. One moment, he was standing with Dick by the window, gasping for breath, and then he was curled up next to Dick on the couch, Dick’s arm around him steadying him, grounding him. Tim blinked a few times and sat up slowly. “What the fuck just happened?”

Dick glanced over at him. “You had a panic attack. And you were dissociating for a while.”

“I know that. I just…” Tim put his head in his hands. He could feel Dick rubbing small circles against his back. “It was literally for no reason.”

“Is there anything stressing you out?”

“I’m always stressed,” Tim mumbled into his hands. He didn’t want to look up and see Dick’s concern. “That wasn’t it. I don’t think...there wasn’t a trigger, or anything. I just started panicking.”

Dick was silent for a moment. “Tim, can you look at me?” he said finally. Tim reluctantly did so. “Look, I know that something’s wrong. You’ve been weird the past few months. You’re always on edge - and I know you don’t think anyone notices, but I can tell. And maybe it would make you feel a little better to talk about it.”

Tim drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them. He hadn’t realized just how many secrets he had been keeping until this moment. “I didn’t start feeling like this until...I don’t even know. Two weeks, maybe?” he murmured. “I’ve been so anxious. For no reason. Everything just seems so much worse. And before that…”

Dick squeezed his shoulder. “Before that?” he prompted when Tim trailed off.

Tim took a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you about the Chaos Monsters?”

“I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

“So, it was this cult that was kidnapping and sacrificing teenagers. Mostly teenagers that...that were questioning themselves.” Tim swallowed hard. “Like me.”

He glanced over at Dick, whose expression hadn’t changed. “Yeah?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. And...my friend. They got him, too. And after I saved him, he, um, he asked me out. And we’ve been dating for the past few months.”

Dick was silent. His expression still hadn’t changed. Tim’s gaze flickered away from him, turning to stare out the window. “That explains that, then,” he said finally.

“Explains what?”

“How you can be so tense and so happy at the same time.” Dick grinned, and Tim felt a weight come off of his shoulders. He couldn’t help the small smile that sprang to his lips.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you kind of seem like you’re in a different place sometimes. Like there’s something - or someone - on your mind that you can’t stop thinking about. That you don’t want to stop thinking about.”

Tim laughed softly. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, you kind of are.” Dick punched him in the shoulder. “Seriously, though. You’re happy?”

Tim nodded. “When I’m with him, always.”

“What’s his name?”

Tim’s smile grew wider. “Bernard.”

Dick laughed. “Oh my god, look at you.”

Tim put his face in his hands again. “Shut up,” he groaned.

“Seriously, though. You’re so cute, talking about him.” Tim could practically hear Dick thinking before he spoke again. “And it must suck not being able to talk about him.”

Tim sat back up. “‘It must suck.’ Wow, you would make a great therapist.”

“I mean. Maybe talking to a therapist - an actual therapist - wouldn’t be a terrible idea, Timmy.”

Tim shook his head immediately. “No way. It wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wouldn’t really be able to talk, would I? It’s just like now. I can’t talk about Bernard with you guys and I can’t talk about you guys with Bernard. I’m stuck either way.”

Dick shrugged. “Don’t therapists have to keep confidentiality?”

Tim stared at him. “Um, I think this is a little different. And Bruce would kill me.”

“He would not kill you.”

“He might!” Tim stared at the floor, letting out a sigh. “I just...everything in my life is so complicated right now.”

“If you don’t want to talk about Robin,” Dick said. “You can always just talk about Tim Drake. He has problems too.”

“And don’t I know it.” Tim glanced up at Dick. “Maybe I’ll do it.”

“Maybe,” Dick repeated.

“That’s all you’re getting right now.”

“That’s fine,” Dick said. He looked over his shoulder, back towards the window. “Oh, hey. It’s snowing again.”

Tim rolled his eyes, following Dick’s gaze. Fat flakes of snow floated softly past the window, stark white against the glow of the lights from the street. “Like a snow globe,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

Tim shook his head. “Nothing.”

Jaine’s business card was burning a hole in his pocket. It hovered in the back of Tim’s mind as he bid Dick goodbye, promising to call him the next day. Its numbers and letters seemed to be projected onto his ceiling as he stared up at it that night, sleepless yet again. It glared at him from where he had left it on his kitchen counter until he finally stood up and dialed the fucking number so it would stop taunting him.

He couldn’t tell if Jaine recognized his voice, but he knew that she recognized his name - even if she didn’t say a word, he could hear the way her voice changed when he said it out loud. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have even bothered being Tim Drake-Wayne, if he should have dug out some other alias. But he was already planning on keeping a mental count of the number of lies he told at the session. He didn’t need to add onto it before it even began.

“I actually had a cancellation for tomorrow afternoon,” Jaine said over the phone. “Does that sound okay?”

“Great,” Tim said, already going back on his promise to himself to keep the lies confined to her office.

As the appointment crept closer, Tim thought more and more about skipping it. But by the time two o’clock the next afternoon rolled around, Tim was standing in the hallway outside Jaine’s office, ready to jump out of his skin. He hadn’t spoken to anyone - not the person at the front desk who had smiled at him, none of the kids hanging out in the lobby. As far as he knew, none of them had recognized him. He was keeping his head down, his eyes covered by sunglasses. It would be just his luck that someone would snap a picture of him at Prism and it would end up on the covers of every tabloid by the weekend.

He wondered if Bernard was here. He couldn’t decide whether it would be a good or a bad thing if he was. Getting answers was one thing, giving them was another. Seeing Bernard again was in a completely different field.

The door next to him opened. He distantly registered Jaine smiling at him. “Hey, Tim. It’s nice to finally meet you. Do you want to come in?”

And so here they were, and Tim had no idea what to say.

“So, you said that you’ve been having a lot of increased anxiety lately?” Jaine said. Tim nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Batman the axolotl swimming directly into one of the walls of his tank. Undeterred, he turned around on a mission to swim into the opposite wall. Tim could relate.

“Yeah,” Tim said. “I don’t really know why.”

“Have there been any big changes in your life recently?”

Tim shrugged. “Um...I started dating a guy a few months ago. I didn’t...I didn’t even realize that that was something I wanted until it actually happened. But I didn’t start feeling so anxious all the time until more recently.”

Jaine smiled. “How did you two get together?”

Chaos Monsters. Cult sacrifices. My secret double life as a vigilante. “We went to high school together,” Tim said. “We reconnected and everything just sort of fell into place from there.”

“You said that you’re close with your family.”

“We’ve had our ups and downs.” Jaine would hopefully think of the typical family arguments and sibling rivalries - the TV being too loud, being rude or disrespectful, not knowing what to have for dinner. Not his father spending a few months dead or his brother trying to kill him a few times. “But yeah. We’re close.”

“Have they met your boyfriend yet?” Jaine asked, and Tim shook his head immediately.

“No. I haven’t even told them, I have no idea how to tell them. The only one that knows is my older brother, and I didn’t really mean to…” He sighed. “I had a panic attack in front of him a few days ago, and I just ended up telling him about it. It went well, I guess - the coming out part, not the panic attack. That kind of worried me, I guess? There weren’t any triggers, I wasn’t any more stressed than usual. I just started freaking out.”

Jaine nodded, her brows furrowing. “You’re sure that you weren’t triggered?”

“Pretty sure,” Tim said. “I wasn’t even working or anything. One second I was fine, the next I couldn’t breathe.”

Jaine frowned. “What do you work on, anyway?”

Tim was silent, silent for long enough that Jaine gave up and moved on. “I think what you might be afraid of most is fear,” she said. “I know that the whole ‘fear itself’ thing is kind of overdone at this point, but sometimes the anticipation is what really kills you. Thinking about the next moment when you might have something to fear...it can be scarier than the moment itself, you know what I mean?”

Tim stared at the ground. “I know,” he murmured. His heartbeat was growing louder. He wondered if Jaine could hear it.

He wasn’t sure if the rest of the session went by quickly or slowly. He remembered Jaine asking questions. He remembered answering them. His tally of lies crept higher and higher until he couldn’t keep track of it anymore. He wanted to say that it was all because of Robin, because of his need to keep that part of himself a secret. But that would just be another falsehood to add to his collection.

Finally, Jaine stood up. “I think that’s it for today,” she said. Tim forced himself not to let out a sigh of relief. “But before you go - I think we both know that you were a little closed off today.”

Tim nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Jaine’s expression was sympathetic, but her words were forceful. “These sessions...they’re what you make of them. I really do want to help you, Tim. But I can’t do my job as well if you’re not willing to open up. I know you might not believe me, but this is a judgement-free zone.”

“Okay,” Tim said. He didn’t believe her.

“Usually I’d schedule another appointment at the end of a session,” Jaine said. “But this time, I think you should be the one to decide when that should be. Call me when you’re ready for this, okay? You have my number.”

Tim nodded again. “I will,” he said quietly.

He didn’t want to think about anything at all that night. He wanted to follow the patrol route that he’d followed so many times that it was little more than muscle memory and fall asleep praying that he’d feel normal again when he woke up the next morning. But the sun had barely set before he received a wordless text. At first, he thought it was spam. Then he saw the name at the top of the message.

It was just like his patrol route, the way muscle memory guided him to the location that Bernard had sent him. Tim knew where he was sending him the second that the building came into view. He had never been to this diner before, but something about it felt achingly familiar.

Tim saw his own reflection in the window, and there was Bernard next to him, hunched over the counter. He was the only customer in the place, and after a moment the waiter behind the counter left too, leaving Bernard completely alone. Tim took a breath, yanking the door open.

Bernard said nothing at first, not at the cold burst of air as Tim entered, not at the twinkling of the bells above the door or at the sound of Tim’s footsteps. It was only when Tim sat down at the stool next to him that he finally spoke. “Nighthawks.”

Tim frowned. “What?”

“It’s like the painting.” Bernard’s voice was low, monotone, emotionless. It didn’t sound like him at all - it was more like a stranger pretending to be him, someone who Tim barely recognized. “The diner. The empty street. The customers.”

Tim shook his head. “No, it isn’t.”

Bernard finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because we’re not like the people in that painting,” Tim said. “We’re not alone.” He reached out towards Bernard’s hand, resting his own hand overtop of it. Bernard didn’t move, barely even blinked. “Bernard. Please, talk to me.”

“About what?” Bernard said. “You already know everything.”

Tim shook his head. “No, I don’t! You just stopped talking to me -”

“Tim.” Bernard sighed, glancing back at the counter as if to confirm that they were truly alone. Once he had done so, he turned back to Tim. “I know that you’re Robin.”

Tim nearly fell off of the stool. There was finally some sort of expression in Bernard’s eyes, something like amusement. Tim didn’t find it funny. “You - what?”

“I know that you’re Robin,” Bernard repeated, slower this time. “What, did you think that I just asked Robin to tell you that you made me realize that I was gay? Who does that?”

“You would!”

Bernard smiled wryly. “You’re right, I would. But seriously - Tim, I already knew. Or, I had made an educated guess. I’m glad I was right, otherwise this could have been really awkward.”

Tim’s brain moved sluggishly, Bernard’s words barely sticking. “You...guessed.”

“You disappear at weird times. You never seem to get enough sleep. You always have weird injuries that you can’t or won’t explain,” Bernard listed. “You’re short, dark-haired, hell, you sound just like him. I spend so much time with you, it’s not that big of a leap.”

“I’m not that short,” Tim murmured. It was only then that the true meaning of Bernard’s words registered. “So you knew it was me last week. At Prism.”

Bernard’s expression went blank again. Tim swallowed around the lump in his throat. “What happened?”

“What do you think happened?” Bernard said quietly. “The whole Chaos Monster thing - that was the last straw for my parents. They kicked me out when they realized that they couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Tim couldn’t speak, could barely even breathe. “How long?” he managed to whisper.

Bernard shrugged. “A month? Maybe two? It’s kind of...everything’s been kind of blending together lately.”

“You’ve been at Prism this whole time?”

Bernard shook his head. “Um, I lived in my car for a while. Then I just sort of ended up there. And it’s good, it’s better than it was, but I’m. I’m just.” He gripped the counter tightly, letting out a shaky breath. Tim moved his hand up to Bernard’s shoulder, and Bernard leaned into it. There was finally a crack in that facade that Bernard had put up, so small that it was nearly imperceptible. It was an expression that Tim was familiar with, but had hoped never to see on Bernard.

Almost unconsciously, he pulled Bernard into a hug. Bernard barely moved at first, didn’t even make a sound, but as Tim’s grip tightened he tentatively wrapped his arms around him, leaning his head against his shoulder. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, his voice muffled. “I’m trying to save up for my own place, but it just seems like so much. And the hotel barely pays, and no one else is hiring - or, they’re not hiring me, anyway. I mean, there’s always some supervillains looking for henchmen or whatever, but knowing my luck that would end with you having to beat me up at some point, and that would suck -”

“Move in with me,” Tim said.

Bernard pulled away, looking startled. It took Tim a moment to realize what he had said. “I mean - you don’t have to,” he said, his face flushing. “I get that it’s still kind of early, and you might not want to, but I just...I want you to feel safe, and I want you to feel okay. It’s up to you, I just wanted you to have that option if you want…”

“Yes,” Bernard interrupted him.

Tim stared at him. “What?”

“I said yes,” Bernard said. “Don’t make me start thinking about it more or I might change my mind.” When Tim still didn’t move, Bernard leaned in to hug him again. “Are you sure?” he mumbled into his shoulder, suddenly more vulnerable now that Tim couldn’t see his face.

“Are you?” Tim whispered back.

“No,” Bernard admitted. “I’m not really sure of anything anymore, though?” His voice grew choked as he continued. “There’s nothing really stable in my life right now. Nothing except for you.”

Tim ran a hand through his hair, holding onto him tighter. Bernard sighed. “Hey,” he said, his voice steadier now. “Now I can see your Robin Cave.”

“It’s called the Nest, actually.”

“Holy shit, I was joking.”

Tim didn’t get home until late that night. There was a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t experienced in so long that he could barely recognize the feeling. He didn’t feel afraid. He didn’t feel alone. More than anything else, he felt awake.

His gaze landed on Jaine’s business card, still on the kitchen counter where he had left it. Her voice echoed in his head - “Call me when you’re ready for this.”

Earlier, he had said something to Bernard - “We’re not alone.”

He called her before he could lose his nerve. “Hello?” she said when she picked up, exhaustion clear in her voice.

He swallowed hard. “Hey, it’s Tim. Um, Tim Drake-Wayne. Sorry that I’m calling you so late, I didn’t really realize what time it was…”

“No, it’s completely fine. I’m still at work, anyway.”

“It seems like you work really hard,” Tim said without thinking.

“I work hard because I love what I do,” Jaine said. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Tim said. “I just wanted to say...you said to call you when I was ready.”

“I did.”

“I’m Robin,” Tim said.

There was a pause, just long enough for some of that familiar terror to come creeping back. And then, finally a sound. A small laugh. “Jaine?” Tim asked.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Jaine said. “I’m just wondering how I didn’t see it sooner. What did you want to talk about, Boy Wonder?”

Tim exhaled slowly. “Everything.”

#batman urban legends #tim drake #bernard dowd #dick grayson #dc comics #aj writes

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

Text

Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 5)

A/n: I should be doing requests... I’m sorry... I just really love Doctor Who and my only other option is to watch the show where I’m at in my rewatch rather than where I’m at in this fan fiction, and I just got to the episode where Ten becomes Eleven and I’m... not ready man. Dang it.

Word Count:11,000+

MASTERLIST

When the Doctor and Rose cornered Y/n with Mickey completely out of sight, Y/n knew this was another intervention. The last time they'd done this was when they'd asked him to stop killing himself to save others. A bit hypocritical coming from the Doctor, but understandable as well. Watching one of the people you love die is bad enough once, but multiple times? Yeah no.

This time, they all knew it was different without having to say anything.

Y/n had gotten rather good at steering the TARDIS. Recently the Doctor had been letting him do it on his own to give him the experience, which had given The Doctor more time to spend with Rose. Mickey had been glued to Y/n's side because of this, trying to avoid watching his ex be with someone else. His ex, who he still loved. It was getting awkward if they were all being honest. The Doctor and Rose had stepped away from each other a lot, and it was obvious it was rather unpleasant for both of them. Instead of sitting back and teasing Y/n or recounting adventures or dreaming up possible news ones, inches apart with the Doctor's arm around Rose's shoulders, now they just talked about things from a bit of distance, with much less enthusiasm and flirting. Y/n avoided the awkwardness by distracting Mickey and driving the TARDIS. In fact, he'd learned to ignore a lot of things he didn't want to acknowledge by driving the TARDIS.

Like now. Rose and the Doctor looked at him, arms folded and faces serious, as Y/n overly focused on driving the TARDIS. Finally Rose sighed, stepping closer. "Where do you guys want to go now? I think I have the hang of this for real this time! No accidents." He waited for them to take the ease poke fun, but when they didn't he pushed on hurriedly. "I love the ocean don't get me wrong, but an ocean on another planet? Not great to open the doors on, but fun to explore. We were just lucky there was that ship there." He chuckled, but it fell short again when the other two didn't laugh. He sighed, stopping. "What is it?" He amusement had fallen, his anxiety rising.

"A while ago when we were at that school with the-"

"Weird bat people who wanted to be gods so they could fix the universe?" Y/n offered.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. A smile slipped through for a second until she swallowed it. "Brother whatever his name was - Mr. Finch. He said... he said you had memories that weren't yours."

Y/n forced a chuckle. "That was a while ago, Rosey, why are we talking about it now?"

Rose shot the Doctor a look. "Someone wanted to ignore it as much as you do. But I think we need to talk about this, because secrets are making things difficult and talking about things going on is important. Especially if it includes other people."

Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what you could mean."

The Doctor piped up then. "Gallifrey." Y/n jerked, his knuckles going white as he gripped the control panel. "Did I ever tell you about what it was like there?" Y/n didn't respond, so the Doctor continued. "It was different than your Earth, obviously. But not just different like we've seen in places like Earth - it was really different. It was breathtaking. There were two suns there, and silver leaves that glowed when the light touched them." His voice was almost reverent, and Y/n felt his chest hurt as the image came to his mind so clearly. "The sky was the same though. A beautiful blue-"

"Blue?" Y/n looked up at him with confusion, and immediately realized his mistake. When the two men locked eyes, there was pain mirrored in both.

"What color was it really?" Rose asked softly. She knew. Y/n knew she knew. He realized only too quickly how this had been planned out, so clear and easy, to drag the truth out of Y/n in a way that he could never deny.

Giving in, Y/n looked up at the TARDIS, as if seeing the sky in person. "Orange. This glorious burnt orange. Made the leaves on the trees... glow." His voice caught and he shot up a hand to his face to wipe away a tear. "The day it was actually on fire..." He closed his eyes. "It's so clear in my mind, that day. I wasn't even there." His hands shot to cover his face, his fingers threading through his hair and pulling lightly on the roots. "God I can hear it. I can hear the music and the wind and the laughter and voices. I can feel the sunshine on my skin, Doctor." His hands dropped, head falling forward. "It's so heavy."

The Doctor moved closer, hands resting on either side of Y/n's face. "I can take it away if you want."

"No." Y/n ripped away, leaning back. "I was given this for a reason. I see so much now. I understand so much more. It hurts, but why would you ever let that pain go? It makes you stronger. It teaches you things that make you understand more. I can see things when I look at people who are nothing like me. I can understand a pain I would never have been able to experience on my own, and through that pain I have learned mercy that I should be incapable of. That I would have always been incapable of." He had been looking at the Doctor while he spoke, but now he looked away again, bashful. "There's something special about having the memories of lives you never lived, as a human. You've always said we're special, Doctor. Us humans. I think it's nice, to have the mind closest to a god one can get, while still having the heart of a human."

It was quiet for a long time until Rose moved closer to Y/n, raising her hand to wrap around the back of his neck. She kissed his forehead. "What a trio we are, eh? The human, the alien, and the one who's a little combination of both." She nudged Y/n and they both chuckled.

Y/n looked at the Doctor. "I'm sorry. I know... it's something I wished you had given to me, if I had to be given it at all. I don't know why I got them at all, but I feel like its a super invasion of privacy and-"

"You remember everything?" Was all he asked.

Y/n swallowed. "Every single detail of your life until the whole Bad Wolf thing."

The Doctor moved rather suddenly, forcing Rose to move backward as he grabbed Y/n's face and kissed him. Suddenly Y/n's mind exploded with memories, both his own and the Doctor's. He saw himself tripping over himself as he ran through an empty street, too young to be on his own but in that situation anyway. Not sure where to go or what to do, but knowing that he couldn't stop running. A little older and running again, but this time in different clothes, a small dog at his side. Laughter rang through the dark street that was teasing a sun rise. Suddenly he was much younger and making his parents breakfast because they'd had a rough night and were both super hung over; the left side of his face still hurt, and his body was tired from the rough sleep he'd barely gotten. Older again, leaning against a wall, near a fire contained in a trashcan, as a pretty blonde girl approached him with wide eyes full of worry. A few months later, as they sat at the edge of a pond, talking and laughing. She had brought him food and was complaining about how lame school was, until he told her how behind school he was. The months that came after with her teaming up with tutors to teach him all the important things he'd missed, giving him a place to stay and a job where she worked by vouching for him. Celebrating his eighteenth birthday with her by his side, and realizing that night that he was in love with her because seeing her at the side of someone else made his blood boil. More recent things, right before the Doctor had met them, where Y/n rolled his eyes and had sass offs with Mickey, who could never quite keep up with him. Things that happened so incredibly long ago, from the days that were fuzzy but distantly warm, before his parents took the road that lead them to destruction. Days that were freezing cold as he clung to the clothes he had in some attempt to keep warm. Running for his life when he got caught stealing. Learning how to do it better over time. Dodging police and orphanages for years. The few times he'd been caught, and had a small reprieve of shelter and promised food and clothes before he had to leave the orphanage, or his short stay in juvey ended.

When the two men leaned away from each other, Y/n was crying. The Doctor rested his forehead on Y/n's, pulling him close. They didn't say anything for a long time. Rose reached out and placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder, and he pulled her in to make it a hug with her sandwiched between them. The two men squeezed until Rose was half giggling and half screaming at them and only then did they let her go.

"So," Y/n sighed, shifting gears. "Where do you guys wanna go next?"

This is where the Doctor took charge. "I have an idea. Here, help me - pull that thing over there."

Y/n and the Doctor zipped around. It was so much easier with help - Y/n didn't know how the Timelord had done it all these years. Even now it was chaotic... they landed fine enough though, and soon Mickey was joining them in the control room and Y/n felt guilty for having forgotten to go and get him when the conversation had shifted. He needed to be better to the man - being around your ex and her new boyfriends was bad enough, but the others were accidentally sending signals that Mickey wasn't wanted and it was an extra sting the boy didn't need.

Making a promise silently to himself, Y/n moved to Mickey's side when the TARDIS landed. "First time out and about with the Doctor is always a little bit of a shock. You won't have it so bad since you've gotten a taste of it before, but still. Having aliens come to you is a lot different than you coming to them, so brace yourself."

Mickey puffed up his chest and Y/n swallowed the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll be fine, but thanks for the concern, Captain." They all went outside, and Y/n kept an eye on Mickey as the man took in his first non-Earth alien experience. "It's a spaceship," Mickey squeaked, and Y/n tried to make his grin less teasing and more excited. He was after all rather enthusiastic to go wandering in unknown territory. "Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go."

Rose was less excited. "Looks kind of abandoned. Anyone on board?" Y/n realized that she was concerned for the people who should be here, and Y/n found his heart swelling. What a good woman.

"Nah. nothing here," the Doctor answered. He made a weird face then corrected, "Well, nothing dangerous." Y/n rose an eyebrow. "Well, not that dangerous." Y/n scoffed in amusement, shaking his head. This man... "You know what, I'll just have a quick scan. In case there's anything dangerous."

That reminded Y/n of Jack Harkness, back in the days before the man who the Doctor was now. When they'd first met the infamous Captain Jack, and Rose had teased about how official he was with his scanning for alien tech. That made him sad to think about though. Jack had died the day Y/n had. He wondered what things would be like if Jack had been brought back with him. Someone to lift this burden off of his shoulders. The fear of forever, where nothing ever lasts long enough. In the span of eternity, it would be nice to have a friend who could be by your side through it all.

The others talked as the lights came on but Y/n began to walk away from them, taking in all the new things and searching the Doctor's memory to see if he knew what this was. To his surprise, he didn't. Y/n turned back, moving to the others once again. "This feels wrong," he said.

The Doctor nodded. "Honestly, had some cowboys in here. Been a ton of repair work going on." He dropped a piece of equipment, using his now free hand to point at a screen. "Now if you really want to talk about odd, look at that. All the warp engines are going." His eyebrows came together. "Full capacity." He planted a hand on the desk, leaning on it, his other hand going to his waist. "That's enough power running through the ship to punch a hole in the universe..." He looked up.

"But we're not moving," Y/n pointed out. Suddenly there was something in the back of his mind, poking at him. It was a small bother, as if someone tiny was trying to get his attention at the corner of his vision. He couldn't quite put a finger on it though.

Nodding, the Doctor looked at Y/n. Finally they saw each other for what they both were. No secrets. What sat in Y/n's eyes still scared the Timelord, but it was a relief too. Maybe Y/n would understand him, as much as a human could understand. "The question is then, where's all that power going?"

"Where'd all the crew go?" Rose piped up, reminding the others in the room once again that there was no one on board a ship. One that they all now knew was at full thrusters and should be shooting through reality itself, but was standing still anyway.

"Good question," the Doctor complimented. "No life readings on board." He began to mess with the controls.

Rose sighed. "Well we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a quick smoke."

"Nope," the Doctor agreed. "I've checked all the smoking pods."

Y/n reached over, placing his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Doctor..." It had just clicked what had been bothering him. "That smell?"

Everyone took a good whiff. "Smells like someone's cooking." Rose placed her hands on her hips, looking like she was about to tell someone off for having fire indoors.

"Sunday roast, definitely," Mickey agreed.

Hitting a button in his fiddling, the Doctor hit a switch that opened a panel behind them. They turned and began walking into a new room. One that had... a fireplace. Odd. "Well." The Doctor slipped his hands in his pockets. "That's not something you see on your average spaceship." Y/n got excited, finally able to learn and explore, and took off to get a closer look. It seemed he had done so at the exact same second the Doctor had so they were side by side as the Doctor continued, "18th century French. Nice mantle." He took out his sonic screwdriver as Y/n ran his hands along the wood, feeling the detail and leaning close to get a good look.

"It's beautiful workmanship," Y/n whispered, in awe.

"Not a hologram either," the Doctor tagged on, after checking the thing with his screwdriver then slipping the tool back into his coat.

Something dawned on Y/n and his eyes widened. "And this isn't a replica, is it?" He looked at the Doctor, eyebrows raised.

"No," the Doctor agreed. "This is actually an 18th-century French fireplace."

Y/n narrowed his eyes. "Well how is that possible? In so much time passed, the only way this thing is in such good condition is if it was fairly new, or untouched. It would have gotten scuffed or broken, needed replacements in all that time." He jerked. "Could they be time travelers?"

"You know as much as I do," the Doctor answered. And it was true. Time travel wasn't a common thing. It wasn't technology the Timelords had shared with anyone else. It was highly unlikely at best, and even if that was the case, why would someone take a mantle out of time and use it to decorate a ship? There were better and far more easily accessed things. There was a second of silence as the two men searched for clues until the Doctor drew in a sharp breath. "It's double-sided. There's another room through there."

"It can't be," Rose contradicted as the Doctor kneeled down. Y/n followed him and the two leaned against each other to make room for both of them. "That's the outer hull of the ship," Rose continued. She was looking out a window. "Look." At her command, Mickey moved closer to her to inspect.

Suddenly, there was a child on the other side of the fireplace. The Doctor smiled. "Hello."

"Hello?" the small girl replied, obviously unsure. Y/n waved politely. She nodded in return.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

"Reinette," the girl responded. Y/n was surprised by the child's willingness to share infomration. It was rather helpful, but still dangerous since she didn't know them.

"Reinette," the Doctor smiled. "That's a lovely name. Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?" Mickey and Rose crouched between Y/n and the Doctor, trying to see what was going on. Rose gasped quietly.

That seemed to confuse the girl. "In my bedroom?" she offered slowly.

"And where's your bedroom?" the Doctor clarified. "Where do you live, Reinette?"

"Paris of course," Reinette responded, shaking her head slightly. Y/n wanted to say somethingm but the Doctor had it handled and the child was probably a little overwhelmed with a bunch of strange people looking at her. Having more than one of them talk to her at a time might be overwhelming and could scare her off.

"Paris, right." The Doctor grinned, shaking his head, playing off that he was just silly or confused and not the truth, which was much harder to explain.

The girl seemed to have questions of her own. "Monsieur, what are you doing in my fireplace?"

"Oh it's just a routine... fire check," the Doctor lied on the fly. Y/n shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "Can you tell me what year it is?" the Doctor asked quickly, trying to cover up the obvious lie. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can," Reinette answered. She smiled, amused by the funny man in her fireplace. "1727."

Well that explained the fireplace. At least, where they got it. "Right, lovely, one of my favorites."

"You say that for every time," Y/n finally spoke up. "They're all your favorite."

"Well, yeah," the Doctor relented. "I will say, August of this year though is a bit rubbish, though. Stay indoors." He perked up. "Okay. That's all for now. Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night night."

"Goodnight, Monsieur," was all Reinette said in reply. They all stood, facing each other away from the fireplace.

"You said this was the 51st-century," Micky reminded rather bitterly.

"I also said the ship was generating enough energy to punch a hole in the universe," the Doctor shot back immediately. "I think we just found the hole." They all looked back at the fireplace. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink," he continued to himself.

"What's that?" Mickey asked.

"He made it up," Y/n scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't want to say magic door," the Doctor complained in response.

Rose tried a go at this whole thing. "And on the other side of the "magic door" it's France in 1727?"

"Well." the Doctor tilted his head. "She was speaking French. Right period French, too."

"No, she was speaking English. I heard her." Mickey's eyebrows were so pushed together his confusion seemed to turn to anger.

"No the TARDIS translates languages so wherever we go, we understand what everyone is saying," Rose explained eagerly, always happy to have her turn knowing what's going on. Her excitement was cute. They were a clever bunch, them. Well not Mickey, but the rest of them.

That was a rude thought. Perhaps the Doctor was rubbing off on Y/n a little more than he'd thought.

"Even French?" Mickey asked.

Y/n replied, "Obviously," at the same time that Rose gave a much kinder, more patient response of, "Yep." She nudged him and he smiled, playing innocent. They began migrating back toward the mantle, and Y/n crouched down, looking through the fire. Rose and Mickey were stepped back as Mickey tried to process the TARDIS when suddenly the floor began to move.

The Doctor had found a lever, and with victory, he pulled it. "Gotchya!" That's what made the floor move, as like a false bookcase in a murder mystery story, the whole thing spun so they were on the other side of the mantle, in the room where Reinette had been. Except... they didn't mean Mickey and Rose, because they'd been too far. Only by coincidence had Y/n managed to be close enough that when the thing turned, he had gone with the Doctor.

Y/n stood, eyes wide as he looked around the room with awe. He went to say something, but then his eyes landed on Reinette, who was asleep in bed. She looked sound asleep too, despite being wide awake and moving around and talking just seconds ago. Y/n and the Doctor exchanged wide looks. They both slowly moved further into the room, the Doctor going to the window to look outside and Y/n moving around to inspect the make of the room and attempt to take a peak outside the door into the hallway.

Attempt was the word, because before he could actually do it, Reinette awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed with wide eyes. The Doctor rushed to calm her. "It's okay! Don't scream. It's me. It's fireplace man." Y/n shot him a look, but it seemed to work. Did this child have no survival instincts at all? Two grown, strange men creeping around her bedroom at night while she slept and she's calm the second she sees the Doctor?

Well, actually, that made sense. There was a sense that one could always trust the Doctor. The same went for Y/n, but for different reasons. The Doctor was the kind of person you hid behind and trusted to run out into battle and protect you. Even if he wasn't by your side, you knew you were safe. Y/n was the kind of person who never left your side. He held your hand and comforted you and gave the sense that he would take a bullet for you while holding you in his arms, his back to the danger and you completely safe from it. Together they were quite calming. The Doctor knew what he was doing, and nothing could stop him from figuring it out and destroying it. Y/n knew less, but was far more ready to put himself in harm's way, and nothing would ever get to you as long as he was there to stand in danger's way.

The Doctor moved to the candle on Reinette's dresser, using his sonic screwdriver to light the candle and cast light in the room so the girl in bed could see him. Her eyes moved from him quickly though to Y/n. "And his friend," she told herself. It didn't seem to e something she meant to say aloud.

"Yes." the Doctor began to change, becoming softer and warmer. It was something he did only for children. It showed that huge, soft heart of his he tried to protect - even from Rose who couldn't always see through his guise because she didn't know what Y/n did. Children had always made him like this. More human. Less logical and curious and detached and more emotional. Closer. Y/n tried not to think about the time that had been most true, with his own children. How that had become so painful for him after they were gone, but how it had never gone away because he just couldn't help himself. The Doctor spoke again, knocking Y/n out of his thoughts. "We were talking, the three of us, just a moment ago. We were in your fireplace."

The girl shook her head. "Monsieur, that was weeks ago. That was months."

The Doctor looked at Y/n, who was just as surprised. Hadn't it been just seconds ago for them? "Really?" the brunette asked as he turned back to the child. He rose a hand to tug on his ear - a tell that he was caught off guard and uncomfortable. He really was a terrible liar. He turned away from her, going back to the mantle. He kneeled down, knocking on it. "Must be a loose connection. We need to get someone in here."

"Wait Doctor-" Y/n moved closer as well, a startling thought hitting him. "If time passes like that over here, do you think it's just that time is different on either side? I mean, its been seconds since we left Rose and Mickey for us but..."

Before they could brain map that out, or go back, Reinette spoke again. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The Doctor didn't answer though. He froze a second, and then his eyes slowly drifted back toward the mantle, away from the little girl, landing on the clock. Y/n wasn't sure what he was seeing, but he looked anyway, hoping it would click immediately. "Okay, that's scary," the Doctor muttered.

"You're scared of a broken clock?" Reinette asked with slight sass. Y/n was starting to like this kid.

Amusement didn't seem to be in the cards for the Doctor right now though. With all seriousness he responded, "Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little tiny bit. Cause you see, if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room..." He looked around to affirm and Y/n followed his gaze.

And that was when he heard it. He looked back at the clock on the mantle to be sure, and saw the hands were still, frozen in place. But if that was the case... "What's making that ticking noise?" It was half a question, and half a resolution as he realized what path the Doctor had gone down.

"Definitely not a clock," the Doctor provided like an answer, even though it was phrased as if continuing a sentence that Y/n had just supplied a part of. "You can tell by the resonance. Too big." He began walking away from the mantle and Y/n stayed close. Not to hide behind the Doctor as most people were happy to do, but because he was making sure the Doctor was okay - just as he always stayed close to keep people safe. "Six feet I'd say," the Doctor continued. "The size of a man."

"What is it?" Reinette asked, beginning to grow panicked.

The Doctor began to move to one side of the bed, nodding Y/n to go the other way. Only then did the men part. "Now let's think." the Doctor was all business now, taking control of a situation and figuring out the threat. It calmed Reinette as it did earlier, to see the two men to actually be who they seemed to be. Without the Doctor to watch, Y/n moved closer to Reinette, looking around the room, his body coiled to fight if necessary. "If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you do: break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two?" He hesitated a while and Y/n felt a chill in his spine. "You might start to wonder if you were really alone. He began to kneel, looking under the bed, and Y/n moved to block the other side. The thing still might escape at the end, but the less places it had to go, the better. Y/n stayed on his feet, still ready to run or tackle something if he had to. "Stay in the middle of the bed," the Doctor instructed Reinette. "Hands and feet close by."

The Doctor looked under the bed. There was the soft whirring of the sonic screwdriver, and long silence that held far too much tension.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and the trio jumped, eyes going wide. Y/n watched the Doctor to make sure he was okay, still planted in place if the thing tried to run.

Unfortunately, the thing did run, but it moved incredibly fast. It was out from under the bed and standing next to Y/n within seconds, and all Y/n could do was stand there as the thing wrapped a hand around his throat. He went stiff, eyes wide. The Doctor moved slowly from being on the ground to raising from the floor at a snail's pace, eyes trained on the thing that was currently holding Y/n in a very compromising position.

"Reinette," the Doctor whispered softly, looking at the small girl who was facing him instead of the thing that had Y/n. "Don't look round." As she had been all night, the girl was obedient. "You." The Doctor's voice had changed as he directed the thing holding Y/n. "Stay exactly where you are. Unless of course you could be so kind as to let my partner there go." His words were polite, but his tone was dark. He was not asking. If anything, his words were a threat. The thing didn't move, either to let Y/n go or to hurt him, so the Doctor hesitated, looking at Reinette again. His face changed and he kneeled down again, but this time to grab Reinette's face with both of his hands. Y/n knew what he was doing, and he relaxed. As much as Reinette was fine with sitting there and listening to every word the Doctor told her, Y/n was the same. Both of them trusted the Doctor completely, and if he didn't think Y/n was in any real danger enough to address it, he wasn't.

"What is it?" Y/n asked softly, taking in the expression of the man now looking at Reinette like she had an arm attached to the side of her head.

"You've been scanning her brain." It was an answer, but mostly an accusation, and it was targeted at the clockwork man holding Y/n. "You've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain? What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?" He let Reinette go, standing tall again.

"You've done it now," Y/n mumbled, finding himself grinning.

"I don't understand." Reinette hadn't spoken in a while, but in all that time she hadn't lost much worry, even if her fear was satiated. She was safe while the Doctor was here, but why did she need his protection at all? She turned now, looking at the clockwork thing. "You want me?"

The clockwork man looked at her - the first time it had shown any sign of thought since moving out from under the bed. In a robotic drawl, it answered. "Not yet. You are incomplete." Its hands tightened around Y/n's throat and his eyes fluttered closed as he took in his a labored breath to feed his brain air as much he could.

"Let him go!" Reinette screamed. Unlike when the Doctor had threatened the automaton immediately let go of Y/n, who dropped to his knees, gasping.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm fine," Y/n rasped, not moving from his spot on the floor. "Keep that brain of yours working, that's what we need right now."

The Doctor hesitated, but obliged. His eyes moved to the automaton. "You said she was incomplete. What does that mean?" The thing didn't respond, and the Doctor got irritated. "You can answer her, you can answer me," he demanded. "What do you mean, incomplete?" He brought up his screwdriver and the thing responded, but not how it had been asked to. Instead, it moved around Y/n on the floor and to the other side of the bed, raising its own arm and extending a blade to press against the Doctor's throat just as threateningly.

"Monsieur be careful!" Reinette begged, worry in her eyes.

"It's just a nightmare, Reinette," the Doctor assured. "Don't worry about it."

Y/n forced himself to his feet. "Doctor," he croaked, afraid to move and startle the thing, but feeling his stress rise at seeing the Doctor in danger. Why couldn't the thing just stay focused on him? Y/n couldn't die. "What you said before, about how it can answer you if it answers her. I mean... she's supposed to be here, we aren't. What if it's not supposed to answer anyone but her?"

The Doctor's eyes widened. That could have been from the way the mechanic thing swung at him though. Y/n surged forward as the Doctor skidded back, the mechanic man following his path. The Doctor kept addressing Reinette, eyes flickering to her as if Y/n hadn't spoken. Y/n realized why when he looked back and noticed her at the edge of her bed, looking ready to cry. "Everyone has nightmares," he told her soothingly. "Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares." he leaned against the mantle, a smirk rising to his face. "Don't you, Monster?" He ducked as the metal weapon swung down at him, missing him and planting firmly in the wood of the mantle instead, sticking and leaving the clockwork machine helpless and unmoving. Y/n met the Doctor, immediately going to check that he was okay.

Reinette interrupted the scene. "What do monsters have nightmares about?" She asked. There was another question in her eyes as she looked between the Doctor and Y/n, but not one she could find words for, so she left it there instead.

The Doctor grinned at that question though, fueled by being able to answer. "Me," he told her as he leaned against the lever that turned the wall again and took the clockwork man, the Doctor, and Y/n all back back over to the ship side of this situation, leaving Reinette in her room alone.

To Y/n's relief, it seemed that neither Rose nor Mickey had moved since they'd been here last. "Doctor!" Rose exclaimed, going to run forward and greet him, but then stopping short when she saw the man clock. The Doctor raced to the side of the room, grabbing one of the guns. Y/n was far out of the way by the time the Timelord turned around, hosing the machine man down with some sort of mist. Y/n realized what had happened when the mist cleared and the clockwork man was silent and still, as if frozen.

"Excellent, ice gun." Mickey looked at the gun with intrigue.

Y/n smirked. "Fire extinguisher actually," he corrected. The Doctor winked, proud of Y/n. He then tossed the gun he was holding to Rose, who caught it and pulled it to her face to take a closer look.

"Where did that thing come from?" Rose asked as she looked at the gun.

"Here." The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets, his brain racing as usual.

"Why is it dressed like that then?" Mickey seemed to disbelieve as usual.

"Well you can't go around somewhere you don't want to be noticed if you don't blend in," was what Y/n offered.

"Fieldtrip to France," the Doctor followed up. "Some kind of camouflage protocol." He began to walk toward the thing. "Nice needle work. Shame about the face." He pushed the mask off, knocking it to the floor to reveal the actual head of the thing underneath. What was there was a head-shaped clear, plastic shield that rested overtop clockwork, all made of gold. The Doctor's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and Y/n gasped, moving closer rather quickly. "Oh, you are beautiful!" He took out his glasses to get a better look. "No really, you are. Look at that!" he looked at Y/n, his eyes full of admiration. Y/n's eyes were trained on the clockwork, but he felt the Doctor's gaze and nodded in silent awe. "Space age clockwork. I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart - and by the way, count those - it would be a crime, it would be an act of vandalism, to disassemble you..."

Y/n snorted. "Since when has that ever stopped you?"

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Not even once," he admitted. "And it won't stop me now." There was a split second, as if the thing was realizing how dangerous the Doctor was, and then it split into lots of pieces and was sucked up and away. "Short range teleport, can't have gone far. Could still be on board," the Doctor explained as he turned away, back to the mantle. "

"What is it?" Rose demanded.

"Don't go looking for it!" was all the Doctor offered in response. Y/n knew it was because the Timelord had no idea, and he hated to admit that most of the time.

"Well where are you going?" Rose shot back.

"Can I come with you?" Y/n asked, realizing the Doctor was headed back to Reinette's room.

The Doctor shook his head. "I need you to keep an eye on these two. We both know how far what I tell them to do goes." Then he hit the lever and the wall turned and he was gone.

There was only a second before Rose was ready to go off and do exactly what she'd been told not to, just as the Doctor predicted. "He said not to go look for it," Mickey reminded.

Y/n turned around, his face stern, to see Rose grinning smugly. "Yeah, he did." She looked at Y/n, daring him to stop her.

He always did as the Doctor asked, as he did now, and she knew it. "Come on Rose, it's dangerous and we have no idea what we're up a-" He had been walking toward her to stop her, but when he got close enough she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down into a rather heated kiss. She leaned away too soon for Y/n to be satisfied, leaving him reeling instead.

"You were saying?" As she winked at Y/n, Mickey grabbed another one of the guns off of where the Doctor grabbed the first one, and returned to Rose. "Now you've got it," she complimented. Then she turned around and began trekking down the hall and Y/n was completely helpless to stop her.

"Wait!" He squeaked, trying to orient himself. But it was too late, and he groaned before jogging after them. Why was it always up to him to keep them in check? They never listened anyway!

Mickey went the fast way, zooming past all the important stuff as he tried to look cool with his rolls and tiptoeing. Rose followed after him, looking around corners at least and walking normally, keeping an eye out for danger. Y/n dragged at last, paying attention to everything he could without being slow enough for Rose to get out of his sight. At one point Mickey made some sound of alarm and the other two moved to him. "Look at this," he told them. "That's an eye in there. That's a real eye."

And, unfortunately, he was right. In some sort of camera, where the lense would be was what looked to be just a human eye. Something or the sort at least - it seemed to be close to human in structure. Y/n moved closer and the thing zipped away.

"That's not good," Y/n said softly. "Ships don't have eyes attached to things that should be mechanic - living parts and machinery don't mix."

Rose caught his attention again by opening a hatch lower down the wall and leaning down. Mickey leaned down with her, peering into the hole behind the hatch. "What is that? There in the middle, it looks like it's wired in." Y/n couldn't see cause there was no room to get a vantage point, so he stayed back.

Rose answered for him. "It's a heart, Mickey. It's a human heart." They leaned away, and Rose looked at Y/n. "You've never seen anything like this before? Or the Doctor?"

Y/n's expression was grim as he looked around the ship, feeling his stomach turn as he began to put something together he didn't like. "No. Like I said, organic matter and machinery have never combined well. The metal bits would get too hot eventually and..." he swallowed, turning away. "Never mind. If you two are set on wandering around, we shall continue with that." And without another word he surged forward, hands in pockets and refusing to answer.

Rose tried to pressure him but after a while of not a single word for him, the trip grew silent. Until Mickey spoke up again. "Maybe it wasn't a real heart." Safely out of sight, Y/n allowed himself to roll his eyes.

"Of course it was a real heart." That cake from Rose, and she sounded as irritated as Y/n felt.

Mickey didn't seem to like that. Neither did Y/n, but one didn't deal with things they liked by ignoring them or trying to push them away or deny their existence. You had to accept the bad things as reality in order to conquer them. "Is this normal for you guys? Is this an average day?"

"Not this specifically," Y/n answered softly.

"There aren't really average days for anything though," Rose added. "Not with the Doctor. You don't ever really adjust to this stuff."

Y/n reached what seemed to be a window into a room that looked like it came from Reinette's time. He leaned closer, trying to look in. Rose and Mickey caught up with him. "It's France again. We can see France." Y/n glared And tried not to aim it at Mickey. If the man made one more obvious statement Y/n might implode.

"I think we're looking in a mirror." Rose seemed to be handling this better than Y/n, though not by much.

Some people walked in and Y/n watched, trying to read their lips. That wasn't one of the things he knew though, even with the odd things he'd accidentally picked up from the Doctor - like sticking his hands in his pockets when he didn't know what to do with them. "Who's this guy?" Mickey scoffed as they watched.

"The king of France." Y/n was surprised to hear the Doctor's voice, but relieved too.

"Oh," Rose drawled teasingly. "Here's trouble. What have you been up to?"

"This and that," was all they got. "Became the imaginary friend of a future French aristocrat. Got in a fight with a clockwork man - Reinette asked where you were by the way, Y/n."

"Take me next time then," Y/n shot jokingly.

"Might as well, you obviously can't keep these two where they're supposed to be like I asked," the Doctor shot back.

"Since when has anything been able to stop Rose Tyler?" Y/n defended himself.

That made the Doctor smile. "Fair point." there was suddenly a neigh from a horse as the white animal turned the corner. "Did I mention I made friends with a horse?"

Once again Mickey came in with the worst question. "What's a horse doing on a spaceship?"

The Doctor came back with irritation that made Y/n feel pleased. "Mickey, what's pre-revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective." Y/n snorted. "See these?" He pointed to the mirror, turning attention to that instead so Mickey has to room to reply back. "They're all over the spaceship, on every deck. Gateways to history." A woman walked in the room, and Y/n tilted his head. She seemed familiar somehow. "But not just any old history," the Doctor continued. "Hers."

That's when it clicked. "That's Reinette?" Y/n asked in surprise. The Doctor nodded. He had a soft look in his eyes that made Y/n raise his eyebrows. The brunette felt the other's man gaze and turned to look, only to look away again very quickly when Y/n smirked. He was about to tease when the Doctor continued, a little more awkward this time.

"A time window. Deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the 51st century stalking a woman from the 18th." He shook his head. "Why?"

"Who is she?" Rose inquired.

"Jean-Antionette Poisson," the Doctor replied. Y/n rose his eyebrows. French Mamés were so fancy. "Known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived." So that's why he was so into her.

"So she's got plans to be the Queen then?" Rose asked next, watching the way Reinette smiled at the King.

"No he's already got a Queen," the Doctor told her. "She's got plans of being his mistress."

Y/n's eyes went wide. "I'm worry, are we talking about- oh my stupid human brain, we're talking about THE Madame de Pompadour?" Y/n hissed, his eyebrows coming together in surprise.

The Doctor grinned. "Only and only!"

Y/n snorted. "You're just a man after all," he teased. Rose and Mickey both realized the Doctor's infatuation then too, Rose scowling and Mickey snickering quietly to himself.

The Doctor however, decided to ignore his comment. "I think this is the night they met. The night of the Yew Tree Ball. In no time flat she'll get herself established as his official mistress with her own rooms at the palace, even her own title. Madame de Pompredour, as Y/n so kindly recalled earlier."

Reinette moved toward the mirror, fixing herself, but looking straight at the four people she didn't know were looking back. "Queen must have loved her," Rose snarked quietly. Y/n silently thought that she was rather beautiful - a notice that had probably been what had made Rose think of that in the first place. He noticed the way the blonde looked at Reinette, and then took a peek at the Doctor. Y/n internally sighed. This girl and her jealousy...

"Yeah, they were actually really good friends," the Doctor stated in response to what she'd said.

"The Kong's wife and the Kong's girlfriend?" Mickey scoffed. When he said girlfriend, he looked directly at Y/n, and Y/n felt his anger rise.

"France," the Doctor dismissed. "Different planet." Suddenly he froze, and Y/n looked back through the mirror to see Reinette turning around, facing a man that was looking away from her. The thing turned and-

At the same time the Doctor and Y/n both lurched forward, pushing the mirror so it turned as the wall had at the mantle before, surging into the room as one. At some point he must have grabbed one of the guns because he suddenly hosed the thing down with it, freezing it as he had the one from before. Except this one... was working against that frost.

"Fireplace man," Reinette shouted in surprise. She then saw Y/n and grinned. "And he's brought his friend this time." Y/n tipped his head in greeted and she gave a small courtsey in response.

"What's it doing?" Mickey asked, in reference to the whirring sound coming from the clockwork man.

"Working its gears, trying to heat the ice." The Doctor tossed the gun back to Rose, who it seemed he'd stolen it from in the first place.

"And what happens then?" Mickey continued.

"It kills everyone in the room," the Doctor answered with a frown. Just then the arm of the clockwork man shot forward, hand reaching to choke the Doctor as it had once tried to choke Y/n. The Doctor was expecting it though, and was faster to react, jetting out of the way before it could succeed. "Focuses The mind, doesn't it?" He stared at the machine with authority. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Identify yourself." The thing only tilted its head.

Y/n stepped forward. "Remember before, Doctor? In Reinette's room?"

The Timelord nodded. "Right." He looked at Reinette. "Order it to answer me."

That seemed to confuse her though. "Why should it answer to me?"

"I don't know," he offered honestly. "But it did when you were a child." He looped around, moving to stand behind her, leaning in to whisper into her ear. "Let's see if you've still got it." Y/n smirked to himself. What a damn flirt.

Reinette turned to the living machine. "Answer his question," she ordered. "Answer any and all questions put to you."

The machine lowered its arm. "I am repair droid seven."

"And what happened to the ship?" The Doctor asked. "That's a lot of damage."

Y/n sucked in a breath and for a second, all eyes except the driod's turned to him. He looked at the machine though as it answered, "Ion storm, 82% failure."

"What did you find out, Y/n?" The Doctor pressed. So Y/n stepped forward, hoping he was wrong.

"The ship hasn't moved in a long while, hasn't it?" Y/n asked softly. "It's taken you a while to fix it - why?"

"We did not have the parts," the machine answered.

"You didn't have the parts you needed to fix your ship?" Y/n's voice was beginning to taint with horror, and the others looked at him with pre confusion, unsure as to what he was getting at. "So you're stuck in the middle of nowhere, ship broken down, no way to move, without the parts you need, and you had to do something." Y/n shook his head. "Why here and now? Why Reinette? What are you looking for here?"

"We did not have the parts," was all the machine answered.

So Y/n changed his question. "What part are you looking for?"

"What?" The Doctor couldn't make sense of that question. "They couldn't be looking for any parts here - it wouldnt make any sense at all. What about the crew?"

Again, the machine answered, "We didn't have the parts."

Y/n sighed, closing his eyes. "We found a camera with an eye in it. A heart, wired into the ship." He opened his eyes again, looking at the Doctor. "They didn't have the parts, so they used what was available to them."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "They used the crew." The others gawked, except Y/n who had known since they'd seen everything before. "It's just doing what it was programmed to do. Using whatever it can, wherever it can find it. No one told them the crew wasn't on the menu. What did you say the flight deck smelled of?"

Rose was stunned, her eyes glossing over as she remembered what she'd said then, and how it must have connected in Y/n's mind later. "Someone cooking." Her answer came with detached horror.

"Like I said. Machinery and organic material- they don't mix." Y/n's eyes dropped to the ground.

"Flesh plus heat," the Doctor added on. "Barbecue." A heavy silence fell, but the Doctor had never been good with silences so he didn't let it settle. "But what are you doing- oh!" He looked at Y/n, then back to the machine. "You're here for a part."

"One more part is required," the machine responded in confirmation.

The Doctor's voice dropped. "Why haven't you taken it?"

"She is not complete," the machine responded. Y/n remembered that it said the same thing that night in Reinette's bedroom.

"What so that's the plan then?" The Doctor jerked back in half mocking disbelief. It was a ridiculous plan, to be fair. "Open up more and more time windows and scanning her brain, checking to see if she's done yet?"

Then Rose jumped in with a brilliant question. "Why her?" She asked. "You've got all of history to choose from- why specifically her?"

"I mean The Doctor said it didn't he?" He realized before the machine could respond. "The most successful woman in history. Brilliant, and incredibly accomplished. I mean, the Doctor could probably go on for years about all she's been able to do. Her mind - her brain, the part they need - it's... I mean sorry if this sounds bad, but it's brilliant. They had to choose someone. Why not her?"

The machine looked at Y/n. "We are the same," It agreed.

"The same?" Reinette spat. "We are not the same! We are in no such way the same!" She panicked, and before anyone could stop her she ordered the thing, "Get out of here this instant!" It disappeared and Y/n ran into the ship, looking around the corner. It was gone though. The Doctor yelled something and Rose and Mickey took off running.

Before Y/n could join then the Doctor called, "Y/n, stay with me!" So Y/n turned around and reentered the room with Reinette and the Doctor. He closed the mirror, realizing it was actually a window instead. He left the other two to do their thing as he turned to the wall, looking at the decorations with a close eye. He felt the need to soak it all in, and whatever the Doctor was doing he didn't actually need Y/n's help, otherwise he would have called him over.

He heard their flirting as the Doctor looked into Reinette's mind, and he rolled his eyes at their antics. That was... until Reinette said something that shocked both of the men in the room. "Oh Doctor, such a lonely childhood." Y/n turned. "So, so lonely. Lonely then, and even lonelier now."

"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked. "You've never been lonely once in your life." Suddenly he jerked back. "Since when did you start calling me Doctor?"

She just looked back at him. "A door once opened can be stepped through in either direction." She stepped up to him. "Oh Doctor. My lonely Doctor." She was so beautiful, and she looked at him with so much love. She'd said he was lonely... only then did Y/n fully understand Rose's jealousy. Was he not enough? "Dance with me," she asked. Y/n turned and moved away, through the window and into the ship, walking back to the flight deck and to the mantle to cool off. He was suddenly angry, and all that ever did was cloud his mind. The Doctor needed him sharp - feelings couldn't get in the way. How could he ever blame anyone for falling in love with the Doctor? Hadn't he done it himself? His eyes found the mantle, and he drifted toward it, pulling the lever. He ended up in Reinette's room. Or... her old room he supposed. He heard footsteps, many footsteps, and ducked behind a curtain.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be a very bad time. The room was being emptied, and it seemed that the mantle was going now. Which meant... there was no way back. He peeked our, trying to think, and was immediately spotted. "Y/n." He looked over in surprise to see Reinette of all people. He slipped out, a stiff smile on his face.

"Hello, Reinette."

She seemed to sense his slight disdain. "I'm sorry for that night. I remember - that was the last time I saw you. I saw you two in his head, and I... well, I didn't realize until later when he was leaving. What it meant, and why you left. I'm very sorry." Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. The other people in the room seemed to hesitate, but then left when the two seemed casual enough. Only one man stood outside the room in order to give them privacy of sort while also making sure Reinette stayed safe. "Have You two had time to talk? I don't know what happens on your dude of things."

Y/n shook his head. "Back there... there's kind of not much time. I mean, where I come from... well it's a bit complicated."

She looked at the mantle, then back. "Do you need to go soon?"

Y/n sighed. "You broke the connection, and I can't fix it from this side. The Doctor will be here soon I'm sure. Until then, if you want to ask, I'm more than happy to answer. I... I think I need some air. Just a bit maybe."

She smiled. "Wonderful."

Three years. Y/n did not age, as he had long since stopped doing, but Reinette did. The two became very good friends, and she kept him a secret from other people. They got attached to each other, but even if they hadn't it wouldn't have mattered. For some reason The exists that he knew weren't working. He couldn't figure out how to get back onto the ship. So he waited for the Doctor - the long route, just like everyone else. He had to say, he didn't mind it. Sticking by Reinette's side was kind of refreshing. When he drew a line she knew to withdraw, but otherwise they talked about everything - and they especially bonded over their deep feelings for the Doctor.

Over time, Y/n adjusted to life in France. It was odd, and he tried to stay away from people and out of any news or such as much as he could because it all confused him and he was worried about changing too much, but for the most part it was fine. He became Reinette's footman - a thing that had been a bit of scandal for a while, but nothing too big as it had been written off as her secret brother or cousin or something. It was too clear too soon that they weren't lovers, and that was what mattered.

Even Y/n and the King got along. It was the day that the King had asked for his company riding horses that Y/n returned to a frantic Reinette. "Those friends of yours just turned up and said in five years they're returning. The clockwork men. I..." She slouched in disappointment. "You weren't here. I tried the entrance again after they left, but it was suddenly locked like all the others. I- I'm so sorry Y/n, I forgot to tell them about you. There was so much going on-"

"No worries my lady," Y/n dismissed. "This way I'll be right by your side when those things come. It's the best place to be really." He smiled and after a second, so did she.

And so five more years passed.

It had been eight years without the Doctor, and Y/n had matured a lot. He'd been allowed his own room to breathe. Oddly enough, his memories of the TARDIS never faded and he found himself missing the Doctor and Rose and even Mickey. He had found this sort of life nice and refreshing at first, but it was boring now. He had a lot more skills - horse riding and sword fighting and cooking and baking. He had even picked up carving, and had seen lots of history up close and personal. But it wasn't with the two people he loved the most.

There was something that kept him from going back though. A question that stuck stubbornly in the back of his mind.

Did they miss him at all?

Perhaps that wasn't fair. It had been eight years for him, but probably not even an hour for them. A horrible thought occurred to him at one point. They might not have even noticed he was gone yet at all.

That thought was what made him hesitate.

The day came that the clockwork men returned, and Reinette rushed to her mantle to call for the Doctor. When she stood, she turned to Y/n. "What do I do?"

Y/n pressed his lips together. "As the Doctor asked. He will come Reinette, I swear to you. He doesn't break his word. That's not the kind of man he is. He will save you."

She looked at him, noticing easily his wording as they knew each other too well not to notice such vital things. "Will he not rescue you as well? Take you back and await from here?"

Putting his hands in his pockets - a habit he still had, even after all these years - Y/n looked away from her. "May I ask you something? A favor? Something very important to me?"

"Of course," Reinette agreed earnestly.

"When he comes," Y/n began. "Do not tell him of me. Not unless he asks." Reinette was going to argue, but then seemed to see the importance of the second bit and hesitated only a second before nodding. That was when the mechanical men came for her. They took her, and forced Y/n to stay, holding him at needle point in a threat. Reinette assured him that she'd be okay, because the Doctor would come. So Y/b stayed in the room and listened to the door lock, letting him know he was all alone with no way out until this whole thing was over.

So he sat. And he waited.

Until the door opened again, and he ducked for cover just in case. It was not the clockwork men... it was however, the Doctor, who he was just as eager to hide from.

"It's not a replica," Reinette was saying. "It's the exact same one. I had it moved here, and was stern about it being kept in exact detail." She left out the fact that Y/n had suggested it, which made him realize the Doctor had yet to ask about him.

"The fireplace," the Doctor cooed, smiling at the memories the thing brought up. "When did you do this?"

"Many years ago," Reinette answered. "In a hope that a door once opened may be opened again." Y/n pressed into the wall, wishing he could leave. He didn't want to be here for this. "One never quite knows when one needs ones Doctor. Or his friend."

"I'm sorry that Y/n didn't come with me." Y/n tended against the wall. "He was on the other side when I jumped through. Good thing though - he'll be able to get the other two home. So there's that." Wait what?

Reinette hummed in thought. "They are trapped there without at least one of your there?"

The Doctor paused. "Well, yes..."

Without leaving him room to answer, Reinette pressed on. "The mantle appears undamaged. Do you think it'll still work?"

"You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it," the Doctor told her. "Which means it was off line when the mirror broke- probably what saved it. But..." he suddenly moved to the mantle, taking out his screwdriver. It was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/n couldn't handle it. He slipped away, out of the room and away from the Doctor and the mantle and the woman who had become his best friend.

Reinette joined him after a while. "He's gone again, our Doctor." She sighed. "He said he would back in just a moment but..."

"That's The thing with time windows," Y/n sighed. "Time is a fickle thing. Passes different only one side than the other. Seconds to him..."

"Years to us." Reinette nodded. She hesitated a while then turned to Y/n. "Why did you hide? He didn't ask for you because he thinks you're on the ship."

Y/n watched the stars outside, thinking about a life where he'd never see them again. It was a terrible thought. "At first it was jealousy and insecurity. A stupid thing I suppose, but it was meaningful then. The way he loves even people he's just met. The way he loves, but still feels lonely because he refuses himself any joy, even to allow others to love him. It scared me. That say you said he was lonely... you know he shouldn't have been though. He had me, and Rose."

"She won't be around forever," Reinette pointed out.

"But I will." Y/n's voice was raw. "But that wasn't even really the point... I don't know, I just thought- I thought love was a hard thing, so I avoided it for years. It came slow to me - far slower than most people. As much slow to me as it comes fast to the Doctor. I've loved two people my entire life, and now I'm staring eternity in the face with only the possibility of a happy ending with one. And... he's so strange. He's not human, and he's consumed by this loneliness that makes him so hard on the inside. So far away. No matter how far I reach, he is always out of my grasp. I can know, but I do not understand. It puts things between us. I mean- we'd never do well in this life. This slow life. He rarely ever kisses me, and sometimes he ignores me altogether, because he values knowledge above all else and is terrified of love, as much as I used to be." He looked at Reinette again. "What if I'm not meant to be with them? People question my never waning age here, but otherwise I do very well. He would do well without me, just fine. But I will suffer without him. It makes me feel pathetic."

Reinette was quiet a long time. "It is hard for a human to love an angel. I can't imagine playing at having that love returned, never quite sure of how real it is or much it will stick or how long it will last. Playing at a dream, hoping to delay the time until you wake up."

Y/n sighed. "He'll be back one day. Perhaps I will know the answer then."

So they waited, both of them. They waited so long. So many years for such a long time that Reinette died before the Doctor came back. When he did, Y/n stood outside in a suit in the rain, watching the carriage go with her body inside, heading off to be buried. Y/n watched, and he decided that after all these years this was the moment that proved to him all the pain and insecurity and hesitation and not being quite sure was all worth it. The danger didn't matter. Neither did the slight loneliness. Because when one loves an angel, and that glorious being dared attempt to return such affection, even a little bit was worth it. It would be the best love Y/n ever experienced, and that would be enough.

When Y/n came inside, the Doctor was waiting for him. "You've been here all this time?" Y/n nodded. "How long?"

Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. "I had been here eight years when her 37th birthday. Now she's a little over 40 so... somewhere between ten and twenty years?"

The Doctor hesitated. "Do you prefer it here?"

Y/n looked around. "No." He looked back. "I did have a long time to think though. I... I know a lot about you, Doctor. And you far less so about me. I know that we rushed things, You me and Rose. I understand if you need to take a step back. I don't want you to feel like we have to do anything, or be anything. I-" he sighed. "I don't want you to feel lonely with me around. I just want to be what you wish for, so that you may not feel lonely anymore. Loneliness - it's a terrible feeling."

After a second, the Doctor smiled. "I haven't seen you in so many hours, and for you it's been a decade and a half - give or take. And after all this time, what you've come to realize about your life is that you like this life of ours? Danger and confusion and guessing and all? Me, and my nonsensical ways? You'd chose that over this, and to have it you'd be anything I asked you, even if it meant sacrificing your own feelings?"

"I suppose that's what love is," Y/n shrugged. "Willing to help you be happy, even if it's not with me."

That made the Doctor shake his head, even as he continued giving a small smile. "She told me you were jealous of her. How you were I have no idea. I'd rather have you and Rose at my side any day. Though..." his smile wavered. "I do wish I'd been able to show her just one star up close."

Y/n nodded. "I wish you'd been able to as well."

The Doctor approached Y/n, taking his hand. "So. Back to the TARDIS then?" Y/n nodded. "You can only come if you come as my lover though." He said in with an airy voice, sounding a little like how Reinette used to refer to the King.

It made Y/n chuckle, softly. The fact he could find amusement on such a sorrowful day was quite wonderful. It's what Reinette would have wanted. "Of course, Doctor. I'd have it no other way." So they did go back, and for now, that was the end of it.

Story Tags: @shoochi @e-reads-fics

Male reader tags: @sheepfather

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91percentpynch · 4 years

Text

lonely heart - kevaaron au pt 4

oh look it‘s me, coming out of my dark hole to make you suffer with a super sad chapter with a nasty cliffhanger:) so get your tissues ready and enjoy!! okay first of all sorry that i didn‘t update this in a g e s and that it‘s rather short and for the cliffhanger, but i‘ll try to update it more regularly now:)

check this out for the other parts:)

trigger warnings: drug abuse, mention of suicide, mention of mental health issues, very sad aaron, mention of blood

“You were too good for me”, Aaron whispered into the void. “You were way too fucking good for me. You made me a better man. And I fucked up”

Aaron got up as he felt the tears burning in his eyes. He knew he wouldn‘t be able to sleep alone tonight. Like every single goddamn night since he left Kevin. Like every single goddamn night since he made the biggest mistake of his life.

„Taylor?“, the blonde haired boy murmered, „You up?“

„Babe, you know I‘m up. My girlfriend lives three states away, we talk every single day at the same time as you call your man. Not that I would be able to sleep when you call him, cause a) i love Day and b) you‘re always sad and high and end up in my room anygays, so did he take the phone darling?“

Taylor was Aaron‘s roommate and the closest thing he had to a best friend. She had been there for him every single day, cuddled him, held him while he cried and dried his tears afterwards. And Aaron did the same when she misssed her girlfriend too much.

„You do realize he is not my man anymore, I fucked that up. Big time. He did actually take the phone just to tell me to fuck off and stop calling“

„You could always go over there and say it in his pretty face. Didn’t say you can’t come over did he?Pro point: Might lead to making out“, Taylor said while taking him in her arms. „Plus another pro point: you‘d get sober again. And you‘re less moody. No offense but a Kevin-less Aaron is hardly managable, like you‘re either a whiny little bitch or you‘ll give me the death glare of the cenutry. Legit worse than Andrew‘s and I called him a cute little baby boo once when I was drunk and he almost stabbed me right there with a look on his face like I just murdered Neil in front of him“

„Tay, I take that as a compliment. And we both know Kevin’s a bit of a dumbass so he did not exactly tell me Not To Come over just stopp calling. Anyways I don‘t even know where he lives. And stop talking about me getting high, you do the same shit“

„Yeah but I know my limits and I have not the same history as you. And for the i DoN‘t EvEn KnOwS wHeRe He LiVeS, phone number. Now“

„O- okay“, Aaron said and told her Kevin‘s phone number while Taylor calmingly stroked his back.

„Neat, got him“, Taylor said after a while. „He‘s with the scary big dude and his adorable little boyfriend I think? I have their address right here, I think we‘re gonna visit them tomorrow cause it‘s like 4 am right now and we don‘t wanna rob him his beauty sleep plus we don‘t want to wake the scary big dude. And I‘m pretty sure the adorable small golden retriver boy could and would stab us“

„Did you just stalk my ex and located his phone at 4 am like fucking Garcias in Criminal Minds?“, Aaron said confused.

„Anything for you big guy. And as I said I miss Day‘s pretty face, preferably in your pretty face so you shut the fuck up about how stressed and depressed and lonely you are.“, Taylor chuckled as Aaron looked at her shocked.

„Well I miss Casey, preferable in your face so YOU shut up“, Aaron was never as good in witty remarks as his brother. Especially high Aaron.

„Babe I think it‘s time for you to go to bed, you‘re not fun when you‘re sad, high and tired. Come here, let me cuddle you, while you whiney little bitch sleep“

Aaron slowly went over to Taylor and into her loving arms, laying down, trying to fall asleep.

After a long while aaron drifted into sleep, just to be greeted by familiar smaragd eyes. In his dream Kevin and he never broke up. Kevin was on top of him, his hands gently discovered Aaron‘s body, touching him as if he was sacred, something to worship. Kevin‘s lips were at Aaron‘s ear whispering sweet nothingness. Aaron‘s hips moved against Kevin‘s loving touch. „Stress release“ Kevin called these holy moments in dawn. „Highlight of my day“ Aaron called them.

The dream was as beautiful as it was cruel. It was as if his body, his mind were as much refusing as able to believe that Kevin was gone. It was his own fault, Aaron knew it. But the ever present voice of his mother, disapproving and disgusting, in his head was just too much for him to handle. He thought - foolish as Aaron was - that the pain of living without Kevin would be better, less cruel, less painful. But he never knew real love and therefore never experienced its lost. Until that faitful day. Until Kevin took his bags and left.

Aaron was used to pain. The hot one after an extraordinarily vicious hit. The cold one when his mother died. The numbing one when the hunger was growing more and more unbareable. But nothing was even slightly as hard to handle as the loss of Kevin in his life.

Kevin was the first good thing Aaron had. He gave him a will to stay, to try, to give this stupid sport everything he got. And Exy turned into more mundane things like getting his eating routine under control or getting a more or less acceptable sleeping schedule. The dark days were still there, for both of them, and they would probably never leave them completely alone, but they got less. And when they did happen they would hold each other together.

Ever since he fucked up things with Kevin, Aaron had more and more dark days. The voice of his mother telling him he‘s a failure, the bored stare of his brother and Aaron convincing himself Andrew wouldn‘t even bet an eye if he died, the voice telling him the world would be a better place without him growing louder and lourder every passing day.

Logically he could say that the death of a single person wouldn‘t change much for the over all world population, expect maybe it‘s some kind of insane mademan dicator or someone important, but still. It made sense. All he did after all was fucking up, being a failure, never good enough, never perfect.

His lonely heart only screamed Kevin‘s name and he knew if Kevin didn‘t take him back, his life wouldn‘t make much sense anymore. Well he would definetly not tell Kevin that. He would not manipulate Kevin into loving him, because that wouldn‘t be much better than not having him at all.

Aaron woke up the next day around noon. He didn‘t really feel like getting up, like getting up was simply too much. But Aaron knew he had to. He didn‘t want to worry Taylor more than he already did. And it would end today. One way or the other.

So he got up, put on the first pair of black jeans he could find and the first sweater his hands could find. Ironically it was one of the sweaters Kevin gave him, on the third of december last year. It was one of Aaron‘s favourites as well.

„Ready for the big Day, small guy?“, Taylor said winking at him.

„Not really? What the fuck am I supposed to do there anyways?“, Aaron replied on his way to the coffee maker.

„Talk to him? Deliver one of those borderline cringe big speeches. Get im flowers. Break into his bedroom and say ‚Draw me like one of your french girls‘, naked of course“, Taylor laughed at the face Aaron made, listening to her suggestions.

„I think I like the big speech. I mean I‘m shit with words, but I‘m sure you want to help your boy getting ‚his man‘ back, right? Also what kind of flowers would you give someone you dumped cause the voice of your dead mother told you it was wrong and disgusting, which you never told him for obvious reasons?“

„Honey, you‘re so fucked up sometimes, I love you but you should go to a therapist or something. Also I‘d say sunflowers or roses? I don‘t speak flowers man, I‘m the tech nerd. Not the romantic one, the nerd. But we‘re gonna make a snazzy speech and you‘re gonna get your man back“

After their typical breakfast - if Aaron didn‘t forget to eat again - they sat down together on the living room floor, paper and pen ready, trying to write the world changing speech.

„Why is this so fucking hard? Why can I only tell him how much I love and miss him when I‘m high off my ass“, Aaron complained.

„What about you don‘t think about him that much. Just tell me what you love about him and then we write that down?“, Taylor suggested.

Aaron took a deep breathe and closed his eyes. „I loved him because he was the first one who saw me. Aaron Minyard. And not just the other Minyard, the lesser twin, the shadow of Andrew. He looked at me and somehow chose me. Even if he could have had everyone else. He chose me, even though I‘m not special. Kevin chose the failure when he could have had the first prize. He looked at me and saw something worth loving, worth keeping around. Hardly anyone could tell Andrew and me apart. But it took him less than a day to do so. Kevin is strong, so so strong and somehow chose the most fragile thing he could find, took it and made it worth soemthing. Kevin made me feel something. Not numbness. Not pain. Something warm and beautiful and living. He gave me a reason to stay alive. Kevin made my life bearable, he made my life beautiful. We were both broken and we would probably still be broken if we were together but we softened each other‘s edges. Kevin believed in me when no one else would. He knew how I felt, knew what I needed and when I needed it. Kev gave me love and safety and I kicked it with my feet. This man is like a god who fell for whatever reasons for a homeless man. And I know I don‘t deserve him but I also know I cannot live without him. And I know that I must tell him that before it‘s too late. If it‘s not too late already“

Taylor wipped a tear out of her eyes. „That‘s it. You tell him that and we‘ll get him back“, she said. „Can I hug you?“

„Sure you loser“

„Ah there is my boy“

They spent the rest of the afternoon writing down the speech, making edits here and there. In the end Aaron collected the pages and went to his room to change. He replaced Kevin‘s sweater with a simple black jumper, put on his Docs, got his keys and left.

Aaro did feel a little uncomfortable, stalking Kevin like that. But he knew this was his chance to fix things. This was his chance to get Kevin back, to make his life worth living again. Which to be fair was a bit selfish, but you are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, aren‘t you?

Jean and Jeremy‘s apartment complex was a 15 minute drive away from the flat Aaron shared with his three roommates. Theirs was fanzier, obviously. After all Jeremy was a professional Exy player and Jean was some kind of semi famous artist or fashion maker or whatever. They could give Kevin the world. They could give him what he desereved. All Aaron had to offer was an apology and his love. No money. Not yet anyway. Just anxiety, depression and stress.

But if Kevin was willing to take his love, to give Aaron one more chance, he promised himself Aaron would make it count. He will tell Kevin how much he loves Kevin every single god damn day. Aaron will get therapy and work on his issues. Sober up and this time for good. He will do anything to be worth of god‘s love. Just that god in his case was a twenty two year old boy with black hair, forming soft waves at the end and a smile that will make the sun jealous. Eyes made out of smaragd. Lips so sinful and kissable.

Aaron sat down in front of the door, waiting for his courage to come back to him. He could do this. He would get his man back.

Hours passed, or maybe it were only minutes or seconds after all before someone came closer. Ever so slowly Aaron lifted his head, just to look in the ever so familiar green eyes, big with shock.

„You said to stop calling. You never mentioned face to face conversations“, Aaron said, his voice hoarse.

Kevin stared at him as if he was a ghost, a reminder of his past life, something he rather wanted to forget.

„Look I know I fucked up. I know I‘m not good enough for you. I know you deserve the world and I cannot give it to you. And when you look me in the eyes and tell me you don‘t feel anything for me anymore, no love or hate or affection or whatever humans feel, I will turn away right now and go and never come back. Never bother you again. But if you allow me to apologize, if you however decide to gieve me one last chance, I prepared this whole ass speech for you“

Aaron was sure they could hear his heart beating against his chest, roaring, screaming to return home. To return to Kevin where it belonged.

Kevin‘s eyes wandered to the floor, his fingers automatically closed around his left wrist. A nervous habit. Just another little part that makes Aaron‘s heart ache.

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he lifted those unbelieveable beautiful eyes and met Aaron‘s golden ones. Kevin studied him and the world around them stopped.

Out of the corner of Aaron‘s eyes he could see Jean going still, his breathing too calm, too even. It‘s the same thing Andrew does when someone fucks with Josten. At least his death would be fast. Or slow. Whatever. Aaron didn‘t really care, without Kevin it wasn‘t worth anygthing anyway.

„Why“, Kevin said after what feels like forever, „Why would I forgive you? Why would I give you another chance? Why would you think you can come back here just to fuck me over again? Aaron I loved you, I really did. I always will. You were my first love and maybe, yeah maybe, my last one. But right now I can‘t. I just, I just can‘t. Please leave. Please leave me alone. For now. Maybe, one day we can talk about it. But right now I cannot handle the thought of you to leave me. To tell me all these beautiful lies, to cut me open and leave me to bleed out. I love you“, tears were running down Kevin‘s cheek. Tears Aaron one day, a long time ago, promised himself he would never let Kevin feel again. Pain. Sadness. Everything because of his failure, because of his weakness, because he‘s a fucking piece of shit.

„Thank you for giving me a reason to stay. Jusst remember that you were my light, my warmth, my happiness and I never stopped loving you. Never will. Please just be happy“, Aaron replied as he turned around to walk to his cars.

When he was sure he was out of ear shot, he let himself feel. Feel the pain. Feel the loneliness. Feel the numbness and the cold and the hatred. It was in that moment, that moment where he was alone and nothing more to lose, that he decided that it was enough. He would end it. End it tonight.

„Thank you“, he texted Taylor. „I‘m glad I didn‘t eat you in the womb“, he texted Andrew. „You were not so bad after all“, he sent to Neil. And lastly „Thank you for taking me under your wing“, to Nicky. They would understand. It would take them some time but in the end they would feel better. They would be happier without them. Because at the end of the day he caused them pain and wasn‘t really worth a thing.

So when he got in his car, tears running uncontrallably down his cheeks, he knew what he had to do.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #kevin day #aaron minyard #ship: kevaaron #kevaaron

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life-rewritten · 4 years

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START UP- DOSAN AND JIPYEONG AND THEIR RISK/STORM

SYMBOLISMS IN EPISODE 9 AND 10 OF START UP

So here we are, Dalmi has finally found out the truth this week in Start Up. Her reaction is understandable and it even hurts even more to see the people involved in her heartbreak and sadness. Dosan and Jipyeong. This episode was show casing their own emotions, as we’re about to get a change coming soon, something is about to push our characters away from each other so that they grow and mature and rediscover who they really want/love. But before we get to next week’s separation and Dalmi’s first choice, let’s look at the symbols for this episode.

The title for episode 9 was Risk( Doing something with the possibility of loss) and Episode 10 was Demoday (an event where business owners show case their achievements in hopes for investments/promotions)

So from these two titles you can already see how this revolves again around the love triangle. We have to look at how the guys connect to these two titles when it comes to Dalmi. So let’s look at all the symbolisms/ meta used this episode.

Risk: The possibility of losing

Both guys are both at risk of losing everything. In my previous analysis I talked about how Dosan percieves he’s at the losing end every time it comes to being percieved as someone worthy, but also Jipyeong showed in episode 9 that he felt it was unfair that he could lose everything he cares about and wants when he’s been involved from the beginning. For Dosan the main thing he was losing was Dalmi’s love and respect for him. He was in love with her, and he’d finally entered a relationship with her since their kiss. They’ve become intimate and close and she saw him as her life partner. (co owner of her 71% shares). For Dosan, Dalmi was everything to him, the only thing he didn’t want to give up on. But if you noticed apart from looking how he felt about Fate being in his way because of his guilt of cheating when he was young, he still was making progress slowly and had accepted that he had to tell her who he was. He now understood it was time despite how afraid he was (he was so scared he drank to run away from his problems) but he still chose to make that risk. In the show the sandbox CEO lady talks about risk to In Jae, she explains what it means to make a choice that has a possibility of loss, she understood and empathised with those who had lost something.

It's the same with Dosan; it might seem like choosing with the possibility of losing can lead to him losing everything if this girl finds out who he is, but in business terms sometimes risks lead to reward/success, risks lead to something finally happening, and sometimes risks can be hurtful and can lead to a loss. Thing is Dosan thinks he's the one who will lose everything, but honestly the storm is the Risk that leads him to his success. Another sad point for Jipyeong who seems like he's not really at Risk because he's the original Nam do san, but he's ironically the Most at Risk of losing everything he wants; Dalmi and the grandmother by his side. Because you could see it when Dosan took them on that date that he'd been replaced and he'd been cast aside. Jipyeong believed that by telling Dalmi how he felt; he’d have her open to finally choosing him and liking him the way she already did before. In fact it’s probably done the opposite it’s made Dalmi realise her fantasy with that letter and its made her compare it to the actual relationship and person Dosan has been to her. It might not seem like a risk for him for Dalmi to know about him but it ended up being one. This brings me to the next title

Demo day

The person who Dalmi said she wanted to show up was Dosan, yes it was the version of her fantasy Dosan: the ideas she had about him; he'd still be a genius, rich. modest, successful etc. But it was still Dosan she wished for to show up when her world crumbled. With Jipyeong she realised he cared but she was bothered because she felt guilty and burdened by the fact that she was now into the other Dosan, that now she had her real Dosan revealed to her but he wasn’t the person she had started to invest her feelings in. Remember title is demo day, the boys are putting on a show for Dalmi’s investment, for her to promote them as her choice. Dosan feels like he has nothing to offer but his hands but he still shows her he cares, he advances (whilst people thought it was stalkery Jipyeong was doing the same but it isn’t about the stalking you need to focus on its about who’s showing up) he shows up when she’s drunk, he shows up in the morning straight away to see her after their fight, he shows up directly to her face, at the end to tell her to let go of her fears and trust in the company.

What he says about her being CEO is also about himself, its a metaphor, nothing about him was fake, she was right to trust and believe and be confident about their relationship. He was genuinely in love with her. JIpyeong also shows up sometimes, he shows up at the restaurant and admits to her how he feels but he still lags behind, he still avoids her directly, yeh he tried to be a mentor for the CEOs to see her and he did tell her to have her confidence and go on stage choose the right investors but it wasn’t showing up directly, it was again to everyone hidden as an advice, we might see what he’s doing but it wasn’t as obvious or direct and it didn’t have an effect on her sorry I just have to say it and it doesn't still doesn’t do anything to help her confidence, he is helpful (the questions to help her feel confident but again its Dosan he gives that to not her directly do you see what I mean.) The only direct thing he did was tell her he likes her and that he went to see her in that far away town because he likes her. That’s nice and all but we saw more than one time when Dosan went to Dalmi directly. Jipyeong waited for opportunities to find a reason but Dosan forced opportunities to be there. And sadly the last time for him to show up (Plan B) is blocked by Dosans friends. And I feel bad for him because he’s waiting for an opportunity to show up for her, but he’s stopped and so he’s behind yet again.

But for Demo day just remember the person Dalmi said she wanted to see a show from was Dosan, he’s one she wanted to invest her feelings in, he’s the one she wanted to return back to (the moments she spent with him that day he showed up in the suit), its also Dosan who tries to put on another show (by running to go wear the suit when she’s drunk) he misses the opportunity but again he’s the one who’s showing/demoing his feelings for her the most. But also the person who we learn about his achievements; the origin, his opinions, his feelings is Dosan. He’s the one who we just watched the previous episode talk about his winnings. He felt like he had none but we know thats wrong. Alex shows up to show him he’s worth investing in. He’s the one who is being invested in for his qualities/ achievements in an episode called Demoday. That’s how I saw the metaphor for demo day. Okay for symbols:

Gust of wind vs the storm:

It's a fascinating symbolism. In this episode it's linked to Dosan. But I can't help but remember it was also mentioned to Jipyeong by Yeongsil as his fortune in episode 1; Dalmi was the gust of wind that was entering his life again. I think this symbolism is another painful ironic metaphor for both Dosan and Jipyeong. Also I want to mention that it wasn't just a metaphor we also saw a physical image of this happening, its the rain towards the end of episode 9 (rain symbolises an impending storm /disaster is coming). Dosan was not hit by the rain, Jipyeong was. Let me explain further:

Dosan says that the wind is actually a storm to him, its causing harm and its always pushing him away and always leaving him with just devastation, but actually its Jipyeong who the wind is cruel to. Hear me out, the wind represents Fate, so we already know the wind is on Dosan's side, it provides him with the answers, it gives him Dalmi, it provides him all he wants but he thinks its by deceit. He is apprehensive and is always guilty waiting for the storm to hit because he believes its a punishment when he receives these rewards, but he doesn't see that the storm is not a problem to him.

It may seem like it because he's losing his family's love and respect (once they find out the truth,) Dalmi's love and respect (once she finds out the truth), he feels used by the wind but discarded in the storm because he doesn't deserve anything. But the storm is there to actually to push him to get and keep all that he has been given: The storm leads him to finally opening up to his dad, but really his dad is going to realise he's still a genius, he's still going to have Samsan Tech be successful because of Dosans hard work and Noongil. Dosan is going to be forced to prove that he can be a genius; the storm moves him to achieve those rewards for real finally. It's on his side.

For Dalmi; the storm finally eliminates that bug (remember that tiny issue that can ruin all they have, that he mentioned he wanted to eliminate) He's been wanting to remove that bug. So Fate did it for him, it may seem like its caused him to lose Dalmi but we all know it hasn't instead now she sees him, and she now realises who she likes, Dosan is closer to actually being with Dalmi because of this stupid storm. The storm is not there to hurt or discard Dosan; it's there to push him forcefully to the end goal of his desires, it's giving him what he wants forcefully he just doesn't realise it.

It’s Jipyeong who that gust of wind is actually hurting, it’s Jipyeong who is being discarded in the storm, he's the one who's even left behind, it's like great that Dalmi returns into his life, it leads him to back to wanting to fulfil his debt to the grandmother, that's his wants before Dalmi came about in his life, the wind provided him with a way to do so with Dosan, but then he crossed the line, he started to become an obstacle to Fates plans, and so it seems like the wind is pushing Dalmi to him. Still, it's not, its a storm, it's going to hurt, he's going to lose everything just like he was the one who was hit the rain, he's actually in the one in the storm, left behind and discarded. Dalmi had left to give Dosan the umbrella remember? Dalmi was already on her way to protect Dosan from the storm, Jipyeong only had the grandmother, and she had just told him that he was going to have to be left behind. Cruel right?

Honestly writing this makes me hurt for him but the show has decided who's the main character, and who's the one for Dalmi, as much as Jipyeong is going to be hurt by all this, he's destined for something else, and whenever that person comes, he'll be shielded from the storm.

The road ends here/Taking a wrong turn

Like with the storm, Dosan and Dalmi drive for a while and reach a sign saying the road ends here, this is foreshadowing there is no other place Dosan can go now in their relationship. Fate has brought them together to manifest both their dreams. But now its time for them to separate for now. For their goals to be met, for them to be equal again to each other, or perfect for each other again, they need to end this saga. Whilst this seems like a storm again because they both lose each other for a while, I don't think it is.

Dalmi is on her way now to realising she's the girl of Sandbox and now she's going to be on her way to becoming the very CEO she was destined to become, the very vision of Sandbox. She's destined to become great and fulfil her father's dreams, this is important because you can see that with Samsan Tech she's not fully reaching her potential (I wonder if she'll stop being CEO and start to make a new idea or if she'll become a better CEO of the company as Dosan is away) this is why her sister has a go at her and mocks her for really not living up to the image of the girl on the swings, she's still lagging a bit on her destiny. Dalmi needs to learn what she wants for her self, and not just rely on others anymore, its time for her to become the boss and find her voice and find her own choices. Dosan needs to be separated from her to refind her self again. But this is why Fate has set up a way for them to do that: Alex.

For Dosan we all know he needs to become the fulfilled version of his potential, the suit guy, he needs to go now and learn, become experienced, become knowledgable but also become successful because of his own reputation. He needs to see how good he is. So he'll return and become the guy Dalmi begged him to show up as, that same guy that took her breath away, the same reputation she had of him before, and the ideal guy that he's meant to be. And he also needs Alex, a mentor who believes in him and knows his strengths to do so. So you the see the road does end here for Dalmi and Dosan. Maybe Fate has done what was needed for both of them for their destiny, now perhaps they won't be perfect for each other anymore, and now Jipyeong can show up and do something else. But I still think these two are meant for each other; I still see Dosan showing up three years later as someone who is Dalmi’s soulmate this time himself, no guilt, no lies, no luck involved, this time all just him. And I still see Dalmi seeing him as her partner no matter what growth/regressions they go through. However, this does mean there is a chance Dosan can finally not be endgame; it depends on how he changes.

Fixed star vs moon

But then we come back to this metaphor/symbolism that makes me change my mind and decide that no Dosan is the endgame. The fixed star, Dalmi calls Dosan as they look up at the stars. First of all the star metaphor points to all I've already been saying, Dosan feels insignificant to the moon (Jipyeong), feels smaller, not noticed, not as appreciated I guess. Still, then Dalmi tells him that no he's a fixed star, and he’s bigger than the moon even if it seems brighter and bigger on the surface/visually, the star is bigger to her and its more important that its fixed. It matters more to her if he sticks around and that those stars do have meaning and importance. The fixed star though foreshadows he won't be going anywhere in her heart; he'll stay fixed, he'll stick around no matter if they separate.

Jipyeong vs Fate

Which brings me back to symbolisms used in this episode to show all these points further. The thing I can only mention is, it really does suck for Jipyeong because Fate has already decided on a winner; Fate has used him as a tool for these twos path. And that's why I keep repeating that he was destined to play a mentor/older brother to these two, each time he tries to cross that line, it's not useful, it's not important, and it's not needed. Although you can argue that his Plan B for being Dalmis savior/investor is necessary but now we have 2STO, so he's not needed again, you can say that all his advice is required in order to make Dalmi feel confident and secure, but it doesn't she's still worried and insecure until Dosan tells her to just trust her self. You can argue he's needed to make Dalmi happy but again he's replaced by someone who does that automatically.

It's sweet all his efforts and energy towards trying to be useful and needed, but unfortunately, he comes too late. If he's not late there's an alternative, he's always there; he's the advice for the recording, he's the introduction to Dosan, the one he wrote the letters, the grandma's good boy by her side (yet he doesn't know about her blindness), he's the guy who went to get Dalmi from that far away town, the one who provided her with new shoes, he's the owner of Yeongsil, but unfortunately he's just the tool not the solution/ he may be there and be of use but its not the final thing needed.

He's like a spark of an idea, he's important and useful and leads to things to happening but he's not the final product/final creation. He's the idea/spark for her ideal guy but Dosan is the fulfilment of it, Dosan is the actual version of it.

It really sucks and this is why I would have a second lead syndrome for him, because whilst it's really obvious to everybody that he is there for Dalmi. Still, Dosan is the one Fate chose but Jipyeong is actually also appealing, needed and useful just not enough. It's ironic because just as Shaha said Jipyeong is the surface choice, when really we all know he's suffering because he's been pushed from the beginning never to be the choice.

#start up #tvn start up #start up kdrama #start-up #startup #kdrama #kdrama net #november #cwg #fvete #nam do san #han jipyeong #seo dalmi #bae suzy #nam joo hyuk

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

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I'd just really like to say this. Be it Daylight, Starlight, Efflorence, the books itself, Rhyd is an ass. An absolute ass. He is so blinded in ways, so stubborn he refuses to listen to another side.

All he cares is his benefit, or Feyre's. You've hurt her, hidden things away from her? You have done her and Me wrong. And because of so, I will hear nothing of what you may try to say or explain, if the Archeron sisters give any at all.

And Azriel and Cassian knowing everything before him, I love that. Because in all honesty, it serves him damn right. For his refusal to listen, refusal to understand.

And to be frank, I've though about this for the past few days, of Rhys as a ruler. I just find that he would not be a good one. There are many meanings, definitions to be a ruler. Personally I find that to be a ruler, your people will always come first. Their wellbeing, over your own. Their life over your own. And I just don't believe Rhys will be able to do that. He was willing to let the world burn, just so to protect 4 people. And he'd be willing to do the same for Feyre. If it comes down to a choice between Feyre and his people, in no doubt, he would pick her. Not the people who rely on him, the people who he is supposed to protect. He would pick a girl, who is in all forms, supposed to do as he does as his high lady, who is in no way experienced in any way of ruling. Who cares not for the people of his court, who has taken what that some of his people have had stolen from birth. It all comes down to love, and Rhys will always pick his love for her over his love for a court which will never compare.

Goddammit, I just really can't like him at all and well, my apologies for a rant on Rhys 😂

But I must say this, Efflorence? I'm in love with it in so many ways, especially the politics 😂

Thank you!! Effloresce has SO much going on and I love that people are on board for the nonsense.

Not to call really heavily on my own fic- but in Starlight I give Rhys the backstory that he wasn’t meant to be High Lord. That his father had chosen his sister as heir- for pretty much the exact reasons you talked about!

Rhys rules with his heart. With sounds great, and is a lovely theme for like...a romance, a fairytale.

But the books try to come at VERY heavy themes along with the romance- assault, racism, ect- and that’s where it falls apart at the slightest poke.

And I think honestly, making Feyre High Lady is one of the best examples. I’ve talked before about how I genuinely doubt he could transfer a magical destiny to anyone, but let’s ignore that she probably just has the title.

It’s these deeply romantic moment right? This immortal king wants to raise her up on the throne- he’s called her his salvation and he’s making true on that- he wants her beside him in everything.

But.

Great moment of love!

But. then two things happen: Feyre starts throwing around her power like its a god given destiny AND Rhysand sort of...stops questioning any of her bad decisions? I mean they argue, but ultimately Feyre does exactly what Feyre wants and Rhys does exactly what Rhys wants without much bridge between.

Like, Feyre tries to order around ANOTHER HIGH LORD IN HIS OWN TERRITORY and Rhys...backs her? with the comeback that she can do ANYTHING she wants?

Rhys starts betraying their own friends and making fucky secret deals and Feyre is pissed, but ultimately? it just happens?

And that’s a terrible way to rule a country, particularly at war. He doesn’t empower her and then give her all the information! He doesn’t even tell her like: these are our cities, this is how big our army is, this is what I think we should do but what do you think?

And this is Rhysand’s pattern, right? To make the big emotional swing and have how that feels justify the means.

For example: Velaris.

There is the obvious, important point that Rhys made a desperate, impossible choice in an equally impossible situation.

But that narrative treats it like- it was for love. Rhys saved Velaris because Velaris was a secret (which remains...doubtful to me. Keir knew about the city, which means probably so did plenty of people), and more importantly, the home of all his friends. Because it’s the city of his heart. The place for dreamers.

What we’re supposed to get is: Rhys saved the only city he could, did his best for his people.

WHICH IS TRUE, but the story puts the emphasis on: he saved his friends.

He saved those he loved, and that becomes the justification for everything. Not, Rhys has to save innocent Night court citizen lives. Every choice he makes is justifiable because it a) directly is For Love, or keeps him personally powerful so he can further b) directly protect Who He Loves.

Can you imagine being a person who isn’t lucky enough to live in Velaris??

When his decision making gets particularly hard to swallow (see the inexplicable loophole of needing a Keir alliance to use his own army) the idea is, war makes us make difficult choices. But the emphasis, the execution is: Rhys, the most powerful, most loving, most always right High Lord who is Right, because he did this Shitty Thing because (spins wheel) It Will Ultimately Mean he can keep Feyre safe.

It’s never about duty. Or about whatever being a High Lord means, in a mystical, magical land.

The real flaw, for me, is that the story from the end of acomaf on refuses to allow Rhys to be wrong. To have flaws. We just stop experiencing in a real way, while it’s still happening, Rhysand pulling the bullshit that makes him Rhysand: being That Asshole, keeping secrets, double-dealing.

Rhys has to be the hero- so, suddenly, everything is washed away.

He’d seem like a lot better leader if we saw any kind of struggle that wasn’t so...personal? Or, say, what I would have done if Rhysand were mine to write: I would have made him genuinely bad at magic.

He talks about struggling because he’s half Illyrian?

Well, Illyrians don’t use High Fae magic. Maybe Rhys barely can. Maybe he’s so secretive and difficult because he has to be, maybe he sacrifices himself because he feels like that’s all he has to give, maybe Keir is a real, dangerous adversary.

That’s a reason.

There’s only so much that can simultaneously by justified under the nebulous: Feyre Cannot Be Hurt By Anyone Ever, I must wreck the world and/or Control Everything, when we’re also supposed to believe that Rhys is a) the Most Powerful High Lord to ever High Lord, b) beloved?? by? his people?, c) Totally able to do his job while coming back from, with no break, five decades of torture, and

d)somehow, just like, the Very Best at being a leader in every way

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project-paranoia · 3 years

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Live Watch: Guardian Episode One, Part One

It's Guardian! The show that got me interested in this genre! I love spooky things and I love mysteries and fantasy! I simply adore it so much! When I can't sleep I just put on a playlist of Guardian in the background. I was aware of censorship before - every country has some version of it, but to some degree this was my first deep dive into how it might effect a piece of media. Guardian is exceptionally acted and incredibly written, as well as suffering from obvious dubs where the dubbing voice actor sounds nothing like the previous actor and odd cuts that are disrupted. In some ways it's the little drama that could fighting its way past their studio going bankrupt while they were filming, reshoots, and being taken down and altered several times.

In some ways Guardian's struggle fits the spirit and aesthetic of the show. Worn in like an old pair of jeans but still making an effort. Putting emphasis where things count and hoping the kindness of the universe will make allowances for the rest. Attention to detail where the story really matters. It has the charm of a community production put on out of love with actors and crew who would not be anywhere else in the world for any amount of money. That feeling of love comes through, and whether or not I'm barely literate I have so many words to share.

Part of why I love it as well is it has that feeling of 80s and 90s fantasy, like Moomin, Xena or Condor Heroes. Everything feels lived in, nothing's been spit shined except for Shen Wei's suits. It's an old city street of a show, it has history and character built in.

*After all that I don't know that I have a tonne to say about the intro. It's very good but it's also full of spoilers. I think having the intro song be in English does make a difference in making it appealing to English speaking audiences as well as standing out as different and interesting, which the show is. Speaking of Spoilers! Spoilers below!

* The obligatory beginning narration is beautifully animated, I have another post that will be done some time before the heat-death of the universe talking about the fascinating world building options. Unlike some Make It SciFi plots, this one has legs and implications.

* Remakes rarely are able to meet the original on equal ground - and I struggle to believe the actors would Fit as well - but part of me really wants to have a chance to have the Dixingren worldbuilding really leaned into. The writing is good enough we get implication but no real follow through. I want fifty episodes of how Dixing functions, give me more pseudo-science behind the mutations, what are the biological differences. I'm hungry for more!

* I love the cameos of later characters, and the way there was some effort to be discrete with spoilers.

* It's Ya Boy! I love Shen Wei. With that music cue and that sinister turn around they really set him up as dubious. I wish they went with something a little different with the intro so his character wasn't spoiled. The writing, directing, and acting was so good and spoiling who Shen Wei is kind of took the teeth out of that.

* Also cheers to the costume designer who outfitted Zhu Yilong so well and made him look jacked with the fit of those clothes.

* Also you can tell this is a real university because the staff has to sit in tiny student chairs. I'm not joking, please be warned if you're going into academia. Unless you have tenure life is An Adventure - and even then.

* Also shout out to Shen Wei's Prized Cabbage and the Queen of our hearts, Li Qian. Why is this actress not in more things? She has such an expressive and lovely face and she really goes all the way in with her acting. I respect an artist that acts from their chest. Also that windbreaker, white skirt combo is chic and fun all at once, it draws the eye and makes her melt into the background all at once - perfect for the character. I love her so much.

* Here's another one of Shen Wei's coats, it's a lovely color for him but it also is so thin that it looks like it crinkled up just from being worn.

* I'm being distracted by details and missing plot stuff.

* Story of my life.

* I love Li Qian hovering along behind Shen Wei like a duckling following their mother. A) Mood and B) it quietly informs their dynamic. Shen Wei has like one person he can trust but no one he can really confide in and it's the same for Li Qian. A ship will find a port in a storm and Shen Wei has Big Da-ge Energy. My fanfic heart hopes they found comfort in the pseudo familial relationship with each other while it lasted.

* Even in episode one we receive foreshadowing, we love and respect some excellent writing. For those of you who missed it - Professor Ouyang is talking about Lin Jing who I love partially because he's so outrageous large but has the total opposite of intimidating energy.

* What did they feed you Lin Jing? He is so tall and wide, but they do a lot with camera work to try to make him not quite as big. Side note, I would really love to see the actor who plays Lin Jing (Liu Minting) both in more dramas but more specifically in a role where he was like a minister or scholar - someone intellectual. I think the combination of being such a big gentleman and also someone who like plots or plans would be really dynamic if it was written well.

* Also I like the exchange where without a word Professor Ouyang indicates he has one last thing to say, it's private and that he would like Shen Wei to ask Li Qian to leave. That's What You Can Do With Good Actors!

* Li Qian is just so pretty and the actress emotes so well!

* Shen Wei totally understanding what's going on with this shady research immediately and wanting to stay as far away as possible. We see one of the first examples of him being aggressively polite to remove himself from a situation.

* "i'M jUST aN oRDINARY sCHOLAR." No one buys it Shen Wei.

* Angy Thinking Face

* One thing the show is really good at is using establishing shots really well so you always know where everything is and everything is going

* Guo Changcheng, all around good boy and angel. We stan a nervous legend

* Zhou Yunlan Arriving. Why is everyone on this show an Absolute Legend

* Guo Changcheng protecting himself with his certificate is too cute. This young man is trying his best and I support him.

* Also that coat is Young, Pure, Stylish; I love it

* Zhao Yunlan, what's wrong with you? You are amazing!

* His irreverent style and disregard of usual policy makes him fit in really well with his band of misfits and special cases

* Guo Changcheng's OO face is too good, elastic face

* Da Qing my love!

* Jin Ling, I think he has an all seeing eye on his hoodie thing. Illuminati Confirmed.

* Also they filmed the shots so well, so you always know where everyone is in relation to everyone else

* Our Prized Cabbage! I love her!

* Great handheld work: shaky and unhinged, but not migraine inducing

* Foreshadowing in the form of a shadow and reaching for the necklace

* Da Qing's cat behaviours. I really want behind the scenes of the actor discussing how cat was he going to cat

* We get our first real example of how Zhao Yunlan doesn't feel safe emoting negatively and so he uses a super sunny mask to hide his feelings, except with Da Qing who he lets his anger show with because he trusts him.

* I'm not even halfway through and I've written so much, peace and blessings to the readers of this.

* Zhao Yunlan's swagger, after his childhood having a little power must feel comforting and good

* I love how Da Qing is talking as a cat less than a meter from the medical examiner. Does the examiner not care or does he know? Is he deaf?

* Harassing Guo Changcheng is the new team sport

* Zhao Yunlan Realises Something Music

* Also, Lollipop Measurement

* It's nice to see Zhao Yunlan just being himself with Da Qing, he's able to really be honest and genuine with him

* Slow Look Moment

* This moment is so fascinating! Shen Wei doesn't know what's going on yet. He just sees an old friend who winces when he sees him and disappears. We mostly see things from Zhao Yunlan's point of view, but from Shen Wei's perspective this is a first part of just some Odd and Confusing Happenings

* This cat though! I love him!

* The delicate way they’re both feeling each other out. This must be so confusing and startling for Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan is trying to figure out if this teacher is going to bust him or what.

* He forgot to let go, way to set off Zhao Yunlan’s suspicions

* “Mark Stewart” Is he though? Who picked out that English name?

* Li Qian! I love her and I love that striped blouse. Fashion. Got to look good when you’re resisting a mental break. *Also she hears a meow and looks around at eye level, I love that for her.

* Zhao Yunlan! You can’t take pictures of young ladies without their permission. What is wrong with you!

* I love Da Qing’s very cat attitude of I Will Have Vengeance for These Wrongs

* Two for one! Shen Wei meets two faces from his past.

* Also, I get a little frustrated about people making a big deal about the 10,000 years versus 1,000 years age thing with Da Qing. a) He has amnesia and b) the thousand years refers to the amount of time needed to cultivate to a certain stage in Chinese mythology - usually by absorbing energy from the sun, moon, or depending on the animal other sources.

* I feel so bad for Shen Wei, who knows what he thinks. Were his friends brainwashed? Did they forget? Can they not say for some reason? What is happening?

This review is getting a little long, so join in tomorrow for Part Two~~!

#Guardian #watchthrough

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blancheludis · 3 years

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@whumptober2021 Day 5: Misunderstandings

Fandom: DCU, Batman, Superman Characters: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Tags: Misunderstandings, Unhealthy Relationship, Miscommunication, Open Ending Words: 4.404

Summary: “I bought the bank,” Bruce says, his face unreadable as ever, but he looks like he is waiting for something.

Clark stands with his parents’ farm in his back, the farm that now belongs to Bruce, and he understands, loud and clear. I bought you.

So, with his mother’s home and well-being on the line, he has little choice but to follow when Bruce beckons.

---

“I bought the bank,” Bruce says, his hands hidden in his trouser pockets, completely casual.

His face is unreadable as ever but Clark knows that face by now, knows that Bruce never does anything without reason.

So, what Clark hears, loud and unmistakeably, is, I bought you.

He swallows, his mouth dry, searching for the right thing to say but coming up empty. The distance between them stretches, growing larger with every passing, silent second.

Then Bruce frowns, causing ice to spread inside Clark’s chest. Bruce bought him. That means he is not just holding Clark’s life in his hands but also that of his mother. He understands that the farm is safe for now, the house will remain standing – now the ball is in Clark’s corner to keep it that way.

“Thank you,” Clark says, far too late, but he somehow manages to sound calm, not as brittle as he feels, blindsided by this sudden change of his fate.

The frown vanishes from Bruce’s face but that only makes the icy grip around Clark’s insides tighten. He had not thought Bruce capable of this, trying to control him and demanding him to be happy about it, too.

“You didn’t have to,” Clark adds cautiously. Bruce could have just asked if he wanted Clark, did not have to go to the trouble of holding his home and family hostage.

“Nonsense,” Bruce says, dismissing in a way that seems to come so easily to him. It has Clark gritting his teeth, even while he keeps his face friendly – a very thin façade.

Here they are, regularly saving the world together, but they are apparently still not equals. Clark pointedly does not look at the house behind him, at the fading colours and the cracks in the porch, at the corner where the roof threatens to give in during the next storm. He did not grow up with money to spare but they were never poor, not in any way that matters. There was always warmth to be found in their house, always love.

Rather uncharitably, Clark thinks that is where they differ. Not because Clark is an alien with super strength and super speed, while Bruce is human. No, Clark is rich in terms of love. He knows where he comes from and where he belongs. Bruce, on the other hand, is lost, building relentlessly to hide the fact that there is no ground to build on.

“I’d invite you in,” Clark says, although he really, really would not. Whatever game Bruce is playing, he will not do it in front of his mother. “But I should tell my mom first.”

Bruce straightens even while his brow creases again just a bit, enough to make Clark wonder what the price for disappointing Bruce will be. Whether they will lose the house immediately or if he will dismantle Clark’s life in a different way first.

“I’ll come to the Manor once I’m done,” Clark offers quickly and takes a step towards Bruce, hoping he is not placating him too obviously. Bruce likes subtlety, after all.

They have known each other for a while now, fought next to each other, and yet he has no idea how to please Bruce, what is expected of him here.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Bruce says, still as unreadable, but he looks slightly less tense.

Clark smiles. It is a real thing if borne of relief instead of happiness. He is glad to take this to the Manor. It is already such an empty place, grief permeating its shadows. Clark will not feel bad about adding his own to it.

“Give my best to your mother,” Bruce says as he is already turning away, off-handed like there is nothing to it, just a social nicety.

Clark’s smile freezes. He stares at Bruce’s back. Later, he will think that he should not have been surprised. Batman is built to be a threat, his every move and word meant to subdue and intimidate. But Bruce is subtler than that, underhanded. Hiding his threats beneath well-wishes that, under any other circumstances would have been innocuous, is right up Bruce’s alley, although it hits Clark like a sucker punch.

He hears the warning loud and clear. I bought you and I expect you to fall in line. Or else.

Clark loves his home but he loves his mother more. “I will,” he says and means it. There is no other choice anyway.

---

Clark thinks briefly about contacting Diana. Perhaps she would have some insight into what Bruce expects. Although, if he is honest with himself, Clark knows. He noticed Bruce’s stares, slowly morphing from distrust to respect to something he thought was welcoming but might have been simple want instead.

He could have asked. Ignoring their bumpy beginnings, Clark liked working with Bruce. They could have built something. But perhaps that is not what Bruce is interested in. He likes control, that much is clear, and maybe he sensed that Clark does not want to be on the receiving end of that. That could be the game and Bruce will tire of it quickly. Somehow, Clark knows that will not be the case.

He is stalling. After talking to his mother, he went to his old room, her relief leaving a bittersweet aftertaste. There is so much to do, but he guesses Bruce’s patience will run out if Clark starts retiling the roof instead of doing as he is told.

No, he decides, he cannot tell Diana. She does not do subtle and Clark cannot afford force. He will give himself half an hour and then he will do what must be done. That is what heroes do, after all, even if he has never felt less like one.

Later, Alfred opens the door for him, smiling with a warmth that Clark does not understand. “Mr. Kent, what a pleasure to see you here.”

Clark nods in greeting, tries to pull up his lips and fails miserably. “I guess Bruce is waiting for me?”

He is and he is not, looking surprised when Clark enters his office. “I didn’t expect you so soon.” Clark was not exactly given a schedule, but he prefers to be early rather than late. “Come, we need to go over some things.”

Privately, Clark expects rules on how this new life of his will run. Instead, it is business as usual, talking about the League. He barely hears a word Bruce is saying but makes sure to nod in the appropriate places.

He stays for dinner – Bruce does not say he can leave – and while he knows that Alfred is an excellent cook, everything tastes like ash.

---

The first time they kiss, Bruce holds him like he is afraid Clark will disintegrate in his arms. Only when Clark pushes forward, acting eager to drown out the churning of his stomach, does the tension bleed out of Bruce’s muscles. If things were different, Clark could even enjoy this. He had thought about it, even, about Bruce. But either Bruce never looked at him the same way or he just likes to make sure his lovers cannot leave on their own terms.

All the following times, Bruce kisses like a drowning man, desperate for the air in Clark’s lungs even knowing that it is poisoned.

None of it makes sense. Clark is here to stay until he is dismissed. He will not refuse any of Bruce’s whims. And yet it feels as if it is Bruce who is waiting for the second shoe to drop, as if Clark will one day decide his mother’s home and well-being are not important for him anymore and leave.

It does not give Clark a sense of power. Instead, he just wonders when their time is finally running out, afraid of what the fallout will be.

---

“Where were you all our lives?” Jason asks one night when they are waiting for Bruce so they can eat dinner. “B is like a new person since you decided to give his sorry ass a chance.”

Clark did no such thing, but that is better kept between him and Bruce, so he shrugs. “Waiting for the right opportunity, I guess.” Bruce certainly did, and Clark did not have much choice but to follow.

He does not have much contact with Bruce’s family, but they treat him like he is one of them. Somehow, Clark thinks, this would be easier if they did not, if at least someone would acknowledge that he is nothing but a stranger, one of Bruce’s few indulgences, just one wrong step away from being dropped and put outside with the trash.

“Well, I wouldn’t have minded having you around when I was still living here.” Jason’s grin looks real, not even a hint of sharpness beneath it, although nobody in this family could ever be described as soft. “Much fewer shouting matches.”

You should have bought your father a whore much sooner, Clark thinks but immediately scolds himself for it. Neither the children nor Alfred seem to know the reason for this arrangement. And Bruce treats him kindly, almost as if this were real.

And Clark does not only come here to warm Bruce’s bed. If he did not know any better, he would even say that Bruce values his company.

“Although your taste is questionable,” Jason continues, apparently not bothered by Clark’s silence. “You could do much better.”

And that is the thing, because in the situation he is in, Clark cannot do anything but acquiesce. He is getting a better version of Bruce than he expected, making it not hard to play along. But this, right here, is the best Clark can do while his mother’s fate is lying in Bruce’s hands.

“He’s your father,” Clark chides quietly, because what else is there to do?

Also, if he ignores the way it happened, he has little to complain about. Bruce is polite and giving and constantly concerned with Clark’s well-being. He does not think it is a façade. Not beyond the obvious.

But if it is not a façade and it is not real either, he has no idea what else it could be. Clark hates being lost. It makes him feel like he is in freefall and, for once, unable to fly. He is not naïve enough to think somebody would catch him either.

---

Clark expects kinks and pain and being uncomfortable the entire time, but Bruce is a generous lover. He never asks Clark to stay and yet always seems to be so glad when he does, almost like Clark is doing him a favour instead of not making a fuss about his duties.

None of it makes sense. Less so with every passing day.

Even with a handful of adopted children, Bruce is still regularly crowned most eligible bachelor. People are throwing themselves at him left and right. Some of them must be in it for more than just Bruce’s looks or money. There must even be someone who already knows about Batman. Someone who does not have to be coerced.

With a bit more time, Clark thinks he could have been that. Sometimes, when he lies awake in Bruce’s arms, warm and safe and satisfied, he resents that he was not given that time.

---

“Why don’t you invite your friend over to dinner?” his mother asks.

The roof has finally been retiled and Clark is thinking about repainting the living room. The question rips him out of his musings like someone dunked his head in ice water.

“My friend?” he asks, although he knows exactly who she is talking about.

Bruce is many things. His colleague and co-conspirator and lover. But they have never been given the chance to become friends.

“The one who helped with the farm,” his mother says, frowning at him. She knows exactly that he is stalling, just not why. And Clark will do everything in his power to make sure she never finds out. “I know you felt like we should have managed on our own, but who knows where we’d be without him.”

Without the farm, probably, but that does not necessarily mean they would be worse off.

“Bruce,” Clark says flatly as if he only just remembered the name. As if all of his thoughts do not circle around Bruce all the time these days – as if he does not sometimes think that is not only a bad thing.

“Exactly.” She smiles, honest and grateful and all the things she would not be if he were honest with her. “You never bring him here.”

Clark is sure his world would implode if he did. “He’s busy,” he dismisses, trying for a casual tone and failing. At least his mother might think he is merely nervous about bringing a partner home to meet her. And he is, just for all the wrong reasons. He is terrified of her liking Bruce.

“Well, you’re seeing each other all the time,” she keeps digging, knowing she always gets what she wants sooner or later. Not this time, though. “Surely it won’t be too hard to invite him sometime.”

“Mom –”

“Clark,” she says in the same tone she used when he smuggled frogs into the house as a boy. “I haven’t properly thanked him yet.”

What is there to thank Bruce for? Clark is paying their debt every day. It might not feel this way most of the time, but he is still acutely aware of the truth.

“I’ll tell him,” Clark lies. “But you shouldn’t get your hopes up. I can barely get him to sit down for dinner when he’s just a few doors down from his office.”

The very idea makes him sick, thinking about Bruce sitting at their dinner table, looking at their family pictures on the walls, sliding neatly into a spot where he does not belong. Bruce is a charmer, he would steal his mother’s affection within moments of coming into the door. And that cannot happen. Clark’s heart is not made to be broken in that way. His mother wants to see him happy, he knows, and it is too much to lie to her about that.

---

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Clark does not mean to say that out loud, but he has been thinking it often during quiet hours.

Because whatever this is, Bruce does not seem to want to rule him. He is content with them just being together and yet he lets that executioner’s axe hover over Clark’s neck.

“Ask what?” Bruce blinks at him, growing more awake. They are lying in bed together, worn out and sleepy and Clark has already decided not to go home tonight, which has too little to do with what Bruce is expecting of him and too much with how comfortable he is, here at Bruce’s side.

It would be easy to bow out, feed Bruce something inconsequential. But Clark is tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Why didn’t you just ask me to go out? Why did you have to buy me?” He has never said the word out loud and he stumbles over it.

Confusion burrows Bruce’s brow as he stares. He has gone very, very still. “Buy you?”

Clark clicks his tongue, remembering why they never talked about it. It is too cumbersome to hash out the details. “Me. The bank. Same difference.”

Understanding dawns on Bruce’s face, giving way to something far greater, far darker. Clark does not get a chance to interpret it properly because Bruce all but pushes him away, scrambling out of the bed and to his feet. He is naked but stands in a fighting position like it is second nature to him no matter what he wears.

“I didn’t buy you.” The offence in his tone is undermined by growing confusion. It sounds very believable.

“You went to quite some length to gain control over my life. I’d say that counts as buying.” Before him, Bruce’s expression grows brittle but Clark presses on. This has been weighing on his soul for way too long. “I didn’t expect you to threaten my mother, but I guess that’s all part of the game.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, still tinged with fear of the possible repercussions. “Only, you’re not even doing anything you couldn’t have gotten if you’d just asked.”

No underhanded humiliations. No kinks where superhuman regeneration abilities come in handy. No secret grievances to pay for. It almost felt real, a relationship like any other, if not for the way it started.

“You think I bought you.” Bruce sounds old, his voice is rougher than usual, almost pained. He is leaning away from Clark, even while his feet remain steady on the ground.

Clark frowns. “You did.” As much as he could be bought, chained not by strength but by concern for what he holds dear.

“And then -” Bruce clears his throat when his voice breaks. “You came into my bed because you thought I’d what?”

“Take the farm. Put my mother on the street.” Clark knows this and yet his voice lilts up, turning his words into a question.

Bruce closes his eyes, his face so raw and open as Clark has never seen it before. It looks like he is in pain, sudden and suffocating. A weight sits heavily in Clark’s stomach as he wonders, just maybe, if he got it all wrong.

“I bought the bank,” Bruce says, voice so low that Clark has to strain to hear him. “And then I forgave your mother’s loan the very moment I could. I have nothing in hand to harm you or your family.”

That is not true, a voice in Clark’s head says but even at that moment he knows it is uncharitable. Bruce would not – but –

“You’re not –”

He is cut off as Bruce starts laughing. It is a sharp-edged thing, clawing its way up from some terrible place, fed by self-loathing and doubt. “You thought I was blackmailing you into having a relationship with me? And you just agreed?”

Bruce does not mock him, the incredulity is clearly pointed at himself, drawing blood with a certainty that speaks of life-long practice. And yet, Clark feels offended. He might not be human, but he is not above emotions, above fear.

“What was I supposed to do?” Clark asks, watching as Bruce’s expression falls further, deep lines opening up where Bruce usually hides everything beneath a clear canvas.

“You’re Superman. You’re a reporter,” he says as if the latter somehow weighs more. “You know my identity, so even if you didn’t want to kill me you could have stopped me any time.” He puts out the idea of being killed as if there is nothing to it. “And you’d have been right to ruin my life because all I’ve apparently done is ruin yours.”

This is not how Clark imagined this conversation to go. He expected to be shut down immediately, to be pushed back into silence. But this? “You didn’t ruin –” he tries to say because, if anything, it seems they ruined each other.

“I raped you,” Bruce snaps, effectively cutting through Clark’s line of thoughts. “For months.”

For a long moment, all Clark can do is stare, the words sitting incomprehensible between them. His chest is hollow and yet something in there seems adamant to drag him down.

“No, Bruce. You didn’t,” he then says, his voice rough. “You never hurt me.” There was never any violence between them, no bruises, no humiliation. He never even had to hide a hickey. And yet, Bruce says the word rape with such certainty, such loathing, his judgement already made.

“You didn’t think you could say no. What else do you think that is but rape?” Bruce turns around abruptly, pressing one hand against his mouth. He looks small, like the tension in the air would be enough to smother him.

Clark knows he should say something, clear this up, but he does not know how. He is watching Bruce fall apart in front of him but all he can do is stare.

Then Bruce buries his face in his hands. “I can’t stop being Batman. I’ll do whatever else you want, but I can’t give up that. Gotham needs –” he cuts himself off, shrinks, impossibly, even further into himself. “If you insist, I’ll find someone to take over, but I’ll need some time. I’ll – you won’t have to see me ever again.”

Something is happening here, way too fast for Clark to follow. Bruce bought him, only – he did not? Because being acquainted with a billionaire apparently means that banks get bought just to help each other out.

He was so sure, though. The expectation for something lingered in Bruce’s eyes that day, and he never protested when Clark gave himself over.

“Bruce.” Clark’s mind is spinning too much to make sense of what is happening, but he cannot watch this, cannot watch Bruce damage himself beyond repair. And for what – an apology? Batman has nothing to do with this. “You forgave the loan?”

That is the easiest thing to reach for. Because Bruce did not rape him, did not harm him at all. That first night, Clark might not have come to him voluntarily, but he came willingly. He knew what he was getting into – or he thought he knew – and he still went. And it never mattered that Clark thought he could not refuse because nothing bad ever happened. A few scheduling conflicts, a few fake smiles when he was not in a good mood. But – it was a misunderstanding? Bruce never set out to control him?

Bruce is still turned away, likely as unable to look at Clark as Clark is to look away. “Of course,” he says, raw and honest.

“It’s not –” Clark breathes, then clarifies, “You don’t have to do anything. I definitely don’t want you to stop being Batman. We – I just misunderstood. But nothing happened.”

Months of uncertainty happened. Months of waiting for the punchline. Months of trying to figure out Bruce’s game only to learn that there has never been one.

“Nothing happened?” Bruce whips his head around. His eyes are wide, filled with some grief that Clark cannot even begin to decipher. “If that’s what you think then I’ll definitely make sure you won’t have to see me again.”

For some reason, that last thing stings more than the realization that all of Clark’s fears have been for nothing.

“I’m not a child, Bruce. Don’t treat me like one,” he snaps, not stopping when Bruce flinches away from him. “I might have thought that I didn’t have a choice, but you never did anything I would have said no to.”

A small voice in the back of Clark’s head asks him whether that matters. He would not have said no, not for anything as long as he thought his mother’s happiness was on the line. He pushes that thought down, unable to fully comprehend it, much less deal with it right now.

“Apart from demanding your presence and presuming your consent? I trapped you in a relationship you didn’t want.” Bruce sneers at himself, then deflates. He looks old, suddenly, hollowed out. “God, you must hate me.”

Does he? Clark wonders, even while he already says, “I don’t, aren’t you listening?” It is a painful dichotomy, this sudden anger and the stubborn incomprehension warring in his mind. “If you had asked me before you bought the bank, I would have gladly gone out with you.”

“But I didn’t ask.”

Clark has no argument for that, and while he still searches for one anyway, a sudden wall builds itself up between them.

Bruce’s composure is shattered but he still visibly draws the pieces together. Neither of them has yet reached for any clothes but he still stands as if in full armour. “You have my deepest apologies, Clark,” he says, too formal, too withdrawn, even if Clark does not doubt his sincerity. He has seen the ruin lying beneath Bruce’s mask, after all. “I know that’s not enough, but I promise you will never have to deal with me again. But, whatever you need from me, now or in the future, you will have it.”

What Clark needs is - “Bruce, stop.”

But Bruce does not listen, of course not. His eyes travel over Clark’s face as if to memorize his features and then he turns around, never looking back as he storms out of the room. Out of Clark’s life.

“Bruce.” No answer.

Clark should follow him. Bruce still has to find clothes and he does not have any super speed to aid in his flight. It would be easy and this conversation is not done. And yet, Clark finds himself remaining right where he is. In Bruce’s bed, naked but for the blanket pooling around his waist.

A misunderstanding, he thinks. Relief blossoms in his stomach but it sits there heavily, not quite releasing him. He cannot let Bruce go, not forever, but his mind is not his own right now. His skin still burns where Bruce kissed him just an hour ago and his muscles ache deeply. Soon there will not be any visible traces of their time together left and – Clark needs that. He needs to be his own person for a while.

Slowly, he gets up and puts on his clothes. He will leave town and visit his mother for a while. The living room still needs to be repainted and he is desperate to do something that makes sense.

Later, once he feels at home in his own skin again, he will go to Bruce. He can imagine the maelstrom of thoughts Bruce must battle right now. Guilt and shame and self-deprecation. Knowing him, he will not get out of this on his own but just do his best to bury it, ignoring the way it eats away at the very foundation of his being. Clark cannot let that happen, not when they have both contributed to their misery. He knows Bruce is a good person, knows he never communicates clearly. And yet he assumed the worst and gave in to it.

The living room, first, Clark thinks as he steps out into the sun, feeling its warmth as he has not done in weeks, even if his legs are not quite steady. And then the rest of their lives.

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #misunderstandings #dcu #fanfiction #consent issues #clark kent #bruce wayne #unhealthy relationship #miscommunication #talking helps #my writing #ao3

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lilietsblog · 4 years

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non-spoilery as of end of pgte book 2 prolonged scream about what Cat does there

so there are multiple things there that Catherine's narration kind of glosses over, and tbf it's for good reason! Catherine is not a braggy kind of person in her narration, if she goes "I'm fucking awesome" it's to psyche herself up for some new bullshit, not to rest on her laurels, and it's honestly fantastic and helps the narrative a lot, that said, we should all totally step back and appreciate that

1) Catherine is seriously for real inheriting Callow here. Like this is not a trick? This is not a clever wording loophole? Catherine is literally at that point in the process of putting her ducks in a row for her "Callow is now mine bitches" plan, and while it's not exactly immediately transitioning to her being in charge of everything solo, she is very much getting the inheritance of ruling Callow from her father teacher I said teacher

2) Catherine put her life on the line for her people twice over - on an increasingly thin one. First she goes into the city of Liesse itself while knowing about the pattern - she's unwilling to let William claim his victory here in this way :) and this might sound obvious, especially for someone who's just read the book, but - there's nothing selfish about this. Catherine gains nothing from besieging Liesse (except very marginal OR very low likelihood potential gains that would 100% not be worth the risk) and loses nothing from retreating to the Legions, this is purely for the sake of the population of Liesse itself. Second she goes specifically to seek William out to deal with the devil problem (WHICH WAS ALSO BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING AND I JUST WANTED TO POINT THIS FACT OUT. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING HOW SHE DID THAT RIP AKUA'S LOOPHOLE CAT'S GONNA DRIVE A TRAIN THROUGH IT) (oh and also this would help the rebel forces which HER forces were actively fighting at the time, just to harp on this point a bit more) - again, while knowing that a pattern of three is active and she's fated to lose. She did her best struggling but she KNEW she was going to lose. And the plan for her to survive was like... 1. die 2. become undead 3. convince a choir they want to support her over their champion. Like, can we all appreciate how insane a plan that is? Catherine went with it straight-faced, and like... Paradoxically, I'm pretty sure it's because it was insane that it actually worked. Because Catherine knew it was absurd, knew she was basically laying down her life for this one city, and she did it anyway. She threw her life down and dared angels to say she wasn't worthy of what she wished to claim.

Because none of this was a trick. Cat’s narration kind of focuses on the part that WAS tricky wording / loopholes, and it sure is convenient that Heiress was there to represent "the enemy" that Cat was presumably protecting Callow from... she was though? Like I'm sure Akua's presence helped drive the symbolism down with the subtlety of a dropped anvil, but factually Cat's goal is to stand between the worst of Praes and Callow, and even her helping tamp down this rebellion ALREADY IS actively working to minimize casualties (Black had changed his strategy due to her involvement). Getting William to confirm that the chapel is Callowan land is more along the lines of not letting Akua get away with a loophole (also fucking hilarious, "could be relied upon to fuck over at least one person in the room" no I didn't reread I just remember that because I adore it). Of course the chapel is in Callow in every meaningful sense! It's attached to Liesse and events in it are going to ripple out into and then from Liesse geographically, that's the entire problem! If the chapel wasn't Callowan Cat wouldn't give a shit and wouldn't have given her fucking life (SHE'S LITERALLY DEAD AT THAT POINT, A SKILLED NECROMANCER WHO MANAGED TO OVERPOWER MASEGO COULD PUPPET HER) to get there!

None of this is a trick! The sword in the stone was a decorative flourish and not even a part of Cat's original plan, because the thrust if it was not the #CallowanAesthetic. The thrust if it was the authentic narrative, in the sense of A=>B: when the person whose job is about to be ruling Callow gives their life to protect its people, and the protection takes the form of getting to a point of contact with angels to get them to switch tracks from doing one thing to another (importantly, Akua also wanted to mess with William's ritual, Cat hijacking it first locked her out!), well then in that situation the angels kind of have a job to do.

And if their chosen champion is the SOURCE of the original problem and this new person who's coming in for a last minute save is literally his deadly nemesis and about to kill him... well fucking sucks for them, I guess! They are angels. They have a job, and when something's gone wrong with how they're doing it, the course corrections can be rough.

Cat did not do a sleight of hand here. Cat full on committed to a course of action that was going to achieve her chosen goal - interrupting both William and Akua - even if the resurrection trick didn't work and it killed her. Cat straight up laid down her life for her people, then asked for it back.

And the way Guideverse works, when things line up just so... well, the chapter is named that for a reason :)

I will also contrast it to Akua’s “pattern of three” plan, because it’s an excellent example of how things DON’T work - of how they work when you are doing it wrong, and how tricks that really ARE tricks blow up in your face. A pattern of three works on symmetry and reversal - claim the victory at first, get inevitably defeated at the last moment. And it’s not that it’s impossible to abuse that, but you gotta PAY. You always gotta pay if you want the result to be real. Akua tried to avoid payment - she lost NOTHING in that first confrontation with Cat that she so demonstrably lost except underlings she didn’t care about (RIP those people). Akua got a technical loss that was actually a victory in every sense that mattered... well hey, guess what the pattern reversed into!

That’s the difference between basing your story on something real - something that would have worked this way in a non-narrativium world too - and trying to cheat your way through loopholes. Would non-narrativium world Akua have fled from that confrontation with Catherine, if she’d seriously considered her a rival and enemy? Nope, not unless she had the same “outsmarting herself” sort of plan Cat would later get to foil. Would non-narrativium world Catherine have gone into Liesse to put her life on the line against both her nemeses at once to save its people? Well... yeah. It’s the same thing with or without story lenses. That’s why it works.

And that’s why it’s fucking awesome.

(I do not just mean on the meta level “look how cleverly Guide is written”. I mean on the object level, reading the end of Book 2 is cathartic and awesome and breathtaking, because every part of it is painstakingly built up to and earned. Things happen the way they FEEL like they should happen - and the only thing the narrativium does here is expose the wiring.)

#a practical guide to evil #catherine foundling #book 2 #SKREEEEEE

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stardustryewriting · 4 years

Text

A Learning Process (4)

AO3 Link: here

Part 1 2 3 5

Labyrinth Learning

Bakugou knew a few things for certain. He knew that he hated nothing more than Deku’s incessant mumbling. He knew that he was both academically smart and physically gifted and that his weakest point was teamwork. He knew that he did nothing wrong during the sports festival because while Uraraka might have been squeamish about using her quirk to its full potential, she wasn’t fragile. (Even calling her squeamish was a bit of an exaggeration.)

And he knew, with a certainty of one-hundred percent that right in this moment, he’d rather be anywhere else. How Monoma of all people managed to corner him, he still wasn’t sure.

But there he was, the last one in the 1-A changing room and somehow unfortunate enough to be right in Monoma’s vision, when he passed by. That idiot should be hurrying along to the training ground, as should Bakugou himself. He risked running late, while normally he was the first one on the scene. The only reason why he still was in the changing room in the first place was to avoid Kirishima. Of course.

Maybe Monoma could be a great distraction. Or maybe, Bakugou would get expelled from U.A., because he blew the idiot up for good. There was really no telling how this would go.

“It’s a shame this is no joint training, we would beat you for good this time, class A”, Monoma taunted in his annoying mocking voice that was probably supposed to make him intimidating. The only thing it accomplished was making Bakugou aggressive. Monoma was working hard towards getting blown up. Bakugou refused to take the obvious bait.

“We wiped the floor with you last time, and we can do it again”, he answered, not looking away from his locker, where he neatly put away the rest of his school uniform. No one could call him a slob.

“You got lucky. We took out both of your recommended students, remember?”

And just as Bakugou was about to argue, that both of 1-B’s recommended students also went down, and more importantly, getting in on recommandation didn’t mean jack shit in the hero course, they were both interrupted by a third voice. A voice Bakugou had hoped to avoid for just a little bit longer.

“Bakugou”, Kirishima called down the hall, blissfully oblivious to Bakugou’s inner struggle, “Aizawa is really not liking having to wait for you.” Which was probably a nice way of saying Bakugou would be on trash duty again, if he didn’t move his ass soon. But going silently now, would be admitting defeat to Monoma, and Bakugou would rather listen to Deku ramble about a bunch of lesser known heroes than do that. Which was saying something, because Bakugou really hated listening to Deku mumbling about anything.

Monoma beat him to the punch yet again.

“Better go quick, he already sent your boyfriend after you.”

“What did you say?”, Bakugou roared, undoubtedly to be heard even on the training ground where he currently kept everyone waiting. He couldn’t care less. Trash duty be damned, Monoma had no right to assume anything and even less right to mock him. Bakugou would make him regret the day he was born.

“Bakugou?”, Kirishima questioned and Bakugou could see his flaming red hair in his peripheral vision. He ignored him.

“Oh, sore point?”, Monoma continued mocking, also not paying attention to Kirishima, even though he had placed himself strategically between Bakugou and Monoma to avoid the worst, quirk activated on his arms, because he knew Bakugou well. He was trying to lock eyes with Bakugou, which he avoided for several reasons. Mostly, because he wanted to continue giving Monoma his best death stare. Minorly because he couldn’t look at Kirishima right now.

“Didn’t mean to insinuate anything”, Monoma said with a fake innocence that even Todoroki could have pointed out, “It’s just the impression you give off.” He had the audacity to laugh at his own joke and Bakugou swore he would kill that bastard with his own two hands. He barely registered Kirishima grabbing his arms to prevent him from storming to attack Monoma.

Unfortunately Kendo appeared faster than he could free himself. Or fortunately, for Monoma.

“I’m sorry about him”, she apologized with practised ease, bowing before them, after she had struck him down. Monoma was pathetically whimpering on the ground, mumbling something Bakugou didn’t understand, but Kendo hit him again, so he was sure it was something unpleasant. Like everything that left Monoma’s mouth. Kendo dragged him off, then, without paying any mind to his continued babbling and only after they were gone from sight did Kirishima let go of him.

“Dude, what did he say that made you so aggressive?”, Kirishima questioned after giving Bakugou a few seconds to compose himself, which did effectively nothing to calm him down. The question, on the other hand, did sober him up pretty effectively. No way could he tell Kirishima what Monoma was talking about. There was also no way he could come up with a plausible lie that fast.

“Nothing important”, he muttered, instead of giving a real answer. He wanted to hit himself for that instantly. Kirishima wasn’t going to let that slide.

“No way”, Kirishima exclaimed instantly, because of course he wasn’t going to let Bakugou get out easily. He should have thought faster.

“Come on, we’re missing training”, he said instead, in hopes of a distraction working better than his shitty excuses. It did.

“Oh shit, training”, Kirishima yelled, dashing off and Bakugou mentally prepared himself for the scolding he was sure to receive from both Aizawa and Iida. At least he could bite back at one of them. He hadn’t clashed with Iida in a while. Maybe he could use it to get rid of some of the frustration, too.

__________________

Training had proved to be everything Bakugou needed. He had tuned out Aizawa’s lecture about being on time and not letting himself get provoked this easily with practiced ease and had been on the field with the rest of his class in basically no time. There he had sought out challenges, both posed by staff and his classmates with no time to cool down between them, going at his limit and beyond that.

Now that he was back in his dorm room, he could feel every bone, every muscle in his body, all aching and demanding a break. A reminder that he worked harder than he ever had before. All of them felt heavy, everytime he moved to get something or change position and for the first time that day his head was free of any worries. No weird unexplainable feelings, no sunshine-Kirishima, not even thoughts of murdering Monoma.

Just him and his aching body, after a perfectly satisfactional training. He could get used to that.

Of course he wasn’t afforded that luxury.

A knock on his door ended his solitude way too early and Bakugou had to repress a groan while he moved off of his bed. He didn’t know which extra had the guts to disturb him, but they didn’t have to know how his body was aching. It was satisfactory to him, but the wrong person could see it as a cause for concern. Or even worse, as a weakness. He couldn’t possibly let anyone think he was weak.

Behind the door stood Kirishima, because of course it was Kirishima who wanted something from him right now. It seemed like it always was Kirishima these days. Or maybe it has always been Kirishima, the voice in his head said and Bakugou noticed that he hadn’t heard that voice in a while. He couldn’t exactly say he missed it. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the wall and instead looked at Kirishima. Which he regretted almost immediately.

Kirishima looked like he came fresh out of the shower, hair still wet at the tips and down like he usually never wore it, while the sun was still up. There was a towel slung over his shoulder, which seemed to be at least damp and Bakugou could see bruises beginning to form on the knuckles of the hand which clasped the towel. (Kirishima had thrown some pretty good punches during training. Not that Bakugou had been paying attention to that.) He looked really good. Bakugou chose to ignore that to the best of his ability.

“We need to talk”, Kirishima stated, more seriously than Bakugou could ever remember Kirishima being while standing in his door after a shower. The seriousness in his voice helped ignoring whatever was currently forming inside his stomach - a weird bubbly feeling that Bakugou couldn’t attribute to anything - but still Bakugou didn’t trust his voice so he just motioned for Kirishima to come in.

He let himself fall on his bed with a groan, because even though Kirishima was his main cause for trouble these days, he would at least never think bad about that. He knew how to appreciate a good work-out, especially a good post-workout bliss at least as much as Bakugou did. They always have been on the same wave-length in that regard.

Kirishima took a seat in Bakugou’s desk chair, aimlessly spinning from side to side for a few seconds. Bakugou knew it meant he was collecting his thoughts, so he didn’t comment about it, even though it was a bit irritating. Cute, the voice in his head chimed in and he tried to think about what he did to get rid of that one last time. He couldn’t remember.

“What was this with Monoma?”, Kirishima finally asked, looking at Bakugou like he could read the answer from his facial expression alone. He probably couldn’t, at least Bakugou prayed he couldn’t or he would have to bury himself six feet deep. Right after he buried Monoma at least twenty feet deep.

“You know the bastard, he was looking for a fight”, Bakugou answered, hoping against hope that Kirishima would be satisfied with that answer. He knew it was futile - he surely wouldn’t be content with an answer like that and neither would Kirishima be - but he had to try at least. Under no circumstances would Bakugou tell him the truth.

“Yeah, he always is”, Kirishima agreed, in a tone of voice that let Bakugou know a ‘but’ was inevitable, “but you seemed more aggressive than usual. And you’re usually pretty aggressive with Monoma.” And Kirishima was still looking at him, with those damn understanding eyes of his that made lying to him so hard. Not impossible though, nothing was impossible for the future number one hero.

“It was just a stupid taunt, don’t make a big deal out of it!”, he argued back, stubbornly meeting Kirishima’s eyes because he’d be damned if he was the first to look away. He was the future number one, not some kind of weakling who couldn’t even face his own best friend, because of something mildly uncomfortable someone else said.

“If it was stupid, you should be able to tell me”, Kirishima debated, looking triumphant, even tho his leg was moving the chair again. A sure sign he was nervous, Bakugou knew, while simultaneously ignoring the voice in his head asking how he knew that. He also ignored that it started to sound like Monoma. That was a problem for another time.

Right now, there was the problem of preventing Kirishima from finding out that Monoma called him Bakugou’s boyfriend. Because while there was a rational part in Bakugou’s brain that said Kirishima would probably only laugh it off, there was a way bigger part of Bakugou’s brain alarming him that this could be the first step to Kirishima finding out about all his struggles of the past days. That couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

“He said something, it was stupid. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“What did he say that you can’t tell me about?”, Kirishima said, stressing the word me in a way that would make Bakugou feel guilty, if he were any less mortified. Kirishima couldn’t know. He couldn’t.

“Just drop it! You don’t need to know everything”, Bakugou yelled and Kirishima actually physically recoiled. He tried to mask it with mockingly raised hands and a playful smile, but Bakugou saw how he flinched. He hated himself for that.

“Okay”, Kirishima agreed, with a too quiet voice, “I won’t ask about it anymore. Sorry for bothering you.”

And before Bakugou could say something - not that he knew what he could’ve said - Kirishima was out of his desk chair and his room, leaving behind a heavy silence. A few water drops on the backrest of his chair were the only proof that he was actually there.

__________________

Kirishima knew he should let it be. If Bakugou didn’t want him to know, he probably had good reason to and prying would be a sign of bad friendship. But there was a curiosity that he couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hard he tried. Because while Bakugou usually reacted pretty violently to Monoma, today he had been almost feral. Kirishima would know, because he was usually the one that restrained Bakugou in these situations.

So he did what no good friend would do and went behind Bakugou’s back. Which sounded a lot more dramatic than it actually was, because he only texted Tetsutetsu to ask for a favor. Ten minutes and a promise of yes, he would bring the snacks for their next gaming marathon later, he got the answer he was looking for.

He wasn’t actually so sure he was looking for the answer, anymore.

Tetsutetsu had done what any good friend would have done and went to ask Monoma personally. Kirishima knew he couldn’t get mad, Tetsutetsu didn’t know he was opening Pandora’s box and Kirishima had asked, after all. He wished he didn’t.

He called you Bakugou’s boyfriend. Bakugou really didn’t seem to like that.

The second sentence was unwarranted, yes. But Tetsutetsu had no idea about the feelings Kirishima had been harboring for the better part of the year by now. He was most likely just relaying the information Monoma had given him. Information that Kirishima had specifically asked for. Even though now he wished he didn’t.

Bakugou must really hate the thought of anything other than friendship with Kirishima, if that was his reaction to a simple taunt. Kirishima felt his chest constrict painfully, as if someone had his heart in their hands and they were squeezing relentlessly. He felt that empty feeling in his stomach, felt it dropping several miles and the traitorous pressure behind his eyes.

He tried to take a deep breath, to ground himself again. It came out shaky and he felt himself tremble before he saw it. His eyes watered slowly, making whatever third text Tetsutetsu had sent unreadable and Kirishima threw his phone away. He dropped himself unceremoniously on his bed, sought refuge under his covers and abandoned the thought of doing anything else. He had good reason to cry.

Kirishima always feared he stood no chance. Now he had proof.

__________________

Two days after their weird post-training talk, that wasn't even really an argument - at least not to Bakugou - Kirishima was back to normal. Why he was acting strangely the day before eluded Bakugou, but he wasn't about to complain. It was actually good for him. Not good in a sense that Kirishima was acting weird around him by avoiding him to the best of his ability. Good in a sense that it gave Bakugou more time to sort through his mess, without worrying about their mess. Not that he made any mentionable progress.

He did mull over the idea of calling Kirishima his boyfriend. After an internal wrestle match with his pride, but nonetheless. It was something.

More importantly, it was something that he realized, he didn’t hate. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that. Or mostly, he wasn’t sure if that meant some deeper feelings or just some passing infatuation. If it even was an infatuation. This whole maybe-feelings mess was a whole lot more complicated than it had any right to be.

Even worse, Bakugou was all out of potential resources he could consult on the matter. Admittedly the list wasn’t very long (or promising) to begin with, but still. He’d like to have something or someone to consult right now.

(He briefly played with the thought of asking Mina, because with her interest in all matters romantic she was bound to have at least an opinion, but telling Mina would mean all the other girls knowing too and Bakugou would rather blast his own leg away, before he let that happen.)

So really his options at this point were non-existent and the only alternative he had was mulling it over in his own head. He could already see this failing miserably.

__________________

Kirishima had allowed himself one day to mourn his chances with Bakugou. He knew from the start that they were zero anyway and the only reason he was hurt was because he’d let himself believe otherwise. So really, it was no one’s fault but his own.

Avoiding Bakugou wasn’t even as hard as he had initially thought it would be. Mostly because Bakugou tended to avoid him too, and Kirishima couldn’t help but think that maybe, after what happened the other day, a cooldown was mutually beneficial. Granted, Kirishima got his hopes crushed so painfully that it physically hurt, while Bakugou was just disgusted about a passing thought, but still.

He firmly believed a day without the other was good for both of them.

Which was something he would have argued with, even a week ago. But things had changed very rapidly and Kirishima wasn’t even sure what was going on currently. He was sure that he didn’t necessarily want to know. Maybe it was for the best to remain in the dark about some things. Especially if they overwhelmed even someone like Bakugou.

That was another thing that Kirishima had to tackle eventually. Trying to get Bakugou to admit what had him on the edge like that and then helping him work through it. He was Bakugou’s best friend, after all, even if it hurt thinking about their relationship like that, currently. Friendship wasn’t something to easily abandon just because someone caught some unintentional feelings.

So after his one day cooldown, he gathered all of his nerves, mustered his best smile (that me might have practiced in the mirror the night before) and approached Bakugou with the same energy he always did. Because there was no reason to change anything. Not from Kirishima’s side of the story.

“Hey Bro”, he greeted, with exactly the same cheer he usually did, because he’d be damned if he let Bakugou catch even a sniff of something being wrong. He saw Kaminari looking at them weirdly out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. Kaminari had too much respect for Bakugou to bring up anything anyways. And by the time he could catch Kirishima alone to ask about it, he’d have a good excuse ready. Or, even better, a distraction. It would all work out.

Bakugou grunted at him in acknowledgement which wasn’t out of the ordinary either, so Kirishima internally marked step one as successful. Faking being normal to achieve normalcy wasn’t the reinvention of the wheel, but it wasn’t easy either. He was pretty proud of himself.

Now it was time for step number two: Being a good friend. And good friends helped their friends with working through their problems, even if said friends didn’t realize they wanted help. Bakugou was never good at accepting help and that never stopped Kirishima. He wasn’t about to give up now.

“You know, you’re acting weird lately”, he approached cautiously, because he knew it was a sore point. He also knew that Bakugou wouldn’t admit that what Monoma - or even Todoroki - said bothered him. Bakugou’s pride was at least the size of his ego and that was saying something, if even Kirishima who usually argued in Bakugou’s favor could admit that. Then again, maybe always seeing the best in Bakugou was a side effect of that troublesome crush he had.

“Yeah, don’t think about it too much”, Bakugou answered, in that half-annoyed-half-venomous tone that he always used, when he wanted to be left alone. Kirishima knew it too well, both from hearing him use it with other people and from being on the receiving end of it. It never stopped him before and he wouldn’t let it stop him now. Even if there was a sharp pain in his chest, he smiled through it.

Fake it ‘till you make it. Or however that saying went.

“Something on your mind?”, he asked playfully, instead of responding to Bakugou’s statement, because he knew a bit of provocation usually helped loosen Bakugou’s tongue. And his willingness to use his quirk, but Kirishima could counter that with his own. They were compatible like that.

The thought that they were only compatible like that, was shoved somewhere in the back of his mind, where, hopefully, it would rot and wither away. And with a tiny amount of luck and a bit of time, the rest of his crush would follow suit. It felt unrealistic, but a guy could hope.

“Yeah actually”, Bakugou admitted, shocking Kirishima into silence and making him lose control over his facial features for a bit. He couldn’t help it, he just wasn’t expecting Bakugou suddenly being so openly honest. He was prepared to work harder for that. “Don’t mind. It’s just a fucking mess.”

“Maybe a friend can help”, he heard himself say, absently realising that this talk was going nowhere close to the way he had imagined it. Which was dangerous, because now they were in a situation he wasn’t prepared for. If he slipped up, that might be the end for both him personally and their friendship.

“Yeah sure”, Bakugou snorted with sarcasm that wasn’t lost on Kirishima and he saw his chance to move their talk into safer territory again. He could deal with sarcastic, disbelieving Bakugou. He had done it before.

Just as he was about to shoot something back about him being way better at interpersonal relationships than Bakugou - something that in hindsight could have gotten them into dangerous waters again - Aizawa shot down his chance by entering the classroom and beginning his lesson.

So, no talk with Bakugou then. Kirishima didn’t mind too much, he was sure he would get another chance after school.

__________________

“Bakugou”, Aizawa said, while everyone was packing their things to get out of the school for good, “stay. We have to talk.”

Bakugou didn’t like a thing about this. Not the strangely stern voice in which he said it and not the look he got, when he looked up to meet Aizawa’s eyes. He felt like he was in trouble. It was ridiculous, the worst thing he had done all week was argue with Monoma and then coming too late to the training grounds and he’d already gotten his lecture for that. (He almost got a second one from Iida, but he ignored him and just went to his room.) So Aizawa should have nothing bad up his sleeve for him.

How wrong he was.

“You have been distracted all week and a part of last week, too”, Aizawa started, like he was trying to breach a topic, he wasn’t quite sure how to breach. Bakugou tried to defend himself, arguing that he was achieving the same grades and results in training as he usually did, but Aizawa raised his hand to stop him, when he opened his mouth. “Just let me say my piece and then I’ll listen to your side of the story.”

Aizawa sighed deeply and then a look settled on his face. Like he'd rather be anywhere else. Bakugou had half the mind to remind that this whole talk was his idea, but he thought better of it. Better not to irritate Aizawa when he was already looking like he was ready to murder someone.

"Look, I know you're at that age when hormones go crazy and you only really think about one thing."

Now Bakugou felt like he'd rather be anywhere else. Why did Aizawa think he needed to have that talk with any of his students, much less Bakugou? Worse yet, was he really distracted enough that Aizawa, notoriously uninvolved in his students' private antics, felt the need to talk to Bakugou about potential romantic feelings. (And probably sex too, but Bakugou wisely chose to ignore that part.)

“I’m not thinking about -”, he gestured wildly with his hands, both to get his point across and so he didn’t have to say it in front of his teacher, “that. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be your concern.”

“It is, if it potentially puts you in danger”, Aizawa argued, strangely calm, while Bakugou himself felt like tearing something up or blasting something into tiny pieces. He knew he couldn’t, he already made contact with Aizawa’s capture scarf once and he wasn’t keen on a repetition, but the urge was still there.

“What do you even know about that?”, Bakugou yelled, both out of frustration and pent up anger and Aizawa didn’t even reprimand him for that. He just smirked self-satisfied, which was almost worse because now Bakugou was either going to get some vague excuse or a story he really didn’t want to hear. He didn’t know what was worse.

“I was your age too, once. And I also had feelings I didn’t want to be true and they almost cost me an arm on one of my work studies, because I was distracted. So it’s fair to say I have my fair share of experience with that.”

That was more information than Bakugou ever thought he would get. It was also way more information than he had asked for. He’d already opened his mouth to complain, when something else dawned on him.

Aizawa wasn’t exactly emotionally available either. He once overheard one of the girls saying that dating a guy like Aizawa must be a project, because getting him to show emotion must be an accomplishment all on its own. He thought it was stupid then, so he paid it no mind and just continued cooking. It might be useful now. Because Aizawa was one resource he hadn’t yet checked on his quest called ‘Figuring out your feelings’. And much like Bakugou himself (and Todoroki) Aizawa was anything but social and open with his feelings. This might just be what he needed.

If he could bring himself to jump over his shadow. And if he could bring Aizawa to talk to him about it. He wasn’t sure which of these was harder.

“Who?”, he asked, mostly to stall for time, because he had no idea where to start. How did he manage to stumble from one mess into another without ever seeing them coming?

“Hizashi”, Aizawa answered easily, shrugging like he was talking about the weather and not revealing some of the biggest news in recent memory. Bakugou was sure the girls would have a field trip with that information.

“Present Mic?”, he exclaimed, still kind of unbelieving, because he couldn’t picture it. Sure they were friends (high school friends, if he were to believe Deku, which was generally not a bad idea, when it concerned hero information), but that was still really unexpected. They definitely didn’t seem like a couple.

“I only call him that at work, but yeah”, Aizawa agreed again, looking amused at Bakugou’s disbelief.

“You’re dating Present Mic?”, Bakugou clarified again, because he had a hard time wrapping his head around that information. Those two didn’t seem to fit at all. Aizawa prefered the quiet and Present Mic was a loud guy by nature (both in personality and with his quirk). And that was only one of many things that didn’t seem to add up with these two. Not that he was actually putting thought into that.

“We’re married, actually”, Aizawa corrected and now Bakugou was sure he did it to get a rise out of him. So instead of voicing what he thought, he took a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t going to fall for one of Aizawa’s tricks again.

“So you’re married. Congrats, I guess. Still, I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Did you know that Hizashi gave me my hero name?”, Aizawa asked, instead of answering Bakugou and he could feel himself getting irritated again. What kind of games was his teacher playing here? Why would that be of any relevance?

“So?”, Bakugou pressed, hoping to end this conversation soon. He didn’t care anymore, if Aizawa could be helpful or not, he just wanted to get as far away as possible, before he actually blew something up. That would give him a punishment way worse than trash duty.

“That was in first year. I’ve already been in love with him then, or else I wouldn’t have taken it. It still took me almost two more years to recognize and own up to my feelings.”

Bakugou had a feeling there was more behind that story than Aizawa let on, but he wouldn’t press. He knew his teacher was trying to make a point and he was willing to listen some more. He truly was desperate.

“Look, I don’t presume to decide what’s going on with you, but you should deal with it soon”, Aizawa said finally, and Bakugou tried not to think about how much he sounded like his father, when he was trying to make Bakugou understand why his mother behaved a certain way. That was a truly dangerous train of thought. One that had the power to actually make him sentimental.

“So what? I’m supposed to make an ass of myself while trying to confess something I can’t even properly name?”, he snapped, revealing way more than he ever intended to. He wished he could take it back, it sounded so pathetic even to his own ears. That certainly wasn’t the way of a hero, much less the number one, the undefeated pro without any weaknesses. That was just a pitiful little high schooler, who didn’t know a thing about the world. He hated that part of himself with a burning passion.

It was the part that brought All Might’s end. And now, it will be the part that makes Bakugou’s life unbearable.

“No you’re not”, Aizawa replied, with an understanding in his voice that Bakugou loathed almost as much as his own weakness. Aizawa didn’t coddle people. Bakugou didn’t need to be coddled. “You’re supposed to consider what’s in it for you if it works out. And then weigh that against your current situation.”

“And if it works out”, uncertain high school student Bakugou yelled again, “what if I confess and we date and then he decides I’m too much of a mess. That I’m more of a project than a boyfriend. What then?”

“He won’t, if it’s the right one”, Aizawa said, still uncharacteristically open and honest, “I was a project and Hizashi loved me anyways. Nowadays threatening breakup is an inside joke for us.”

“It is?”, Bakugou wondered, not even really as a question to Aizawa. Could there really be someone that looked at all of his emotional unavailability and decided they want that? Could Kirishima do that?

“The last time Hizashi threatened a breakup was over a game of Monopoly”, Aizawa shrugged, looking strangely pleased with himself and Bakugou felt himself set back to a not-so-distant game night.

“Monopoly?”

“Our game nights get pretty intense, sometimes. We’re both not exactly great losers.”

And now Bakugou really didn’t know what to make out of any of that. Everything was jumbled together in his brain, all of it surrounding an image of Kirishima and Bakugou could feel a headache starting to form, the sides of his forehead throbbing in dull pain. He absently realised that Aizawa had dismissed him and he left the classroom hastily. He didn’t even feel like exercise, he just needed some quiet and peace to think.

It was ironic how much he needed to think about now, after he spent the majority of the last days thinking about the very same topic. One talk with Aizawa really had opened up a whole new perspective on the whole situation. If he had known his homeroom teacher could be that helpful, he would’ve asked sooner. (No, he wouldn’t have, but still. The food for his thoughts was appreciated.)

He barely registered Kirishima, who had obviously been waiting on Bakugou in the hall. Bakugou duly noted that Kirishima wanted to continue their talk from before class, but he really wasn’t in the state of mind for that. He didn’t even know what he wanted to prevent Kirishima from finding out. Or if he wanted to prevent Kirishima from finding out anything in the first place.

Once they reached the dorms, with Kirishima still chatting happily and Bakugou unable to focus on even a single word that came out of his mouth, he quickly made up an excuse and vanished into his room for good. He really, really needed some time on his own.

__________________

Hours later after replaying and re-replaying everything Aizawa said and comparing it with what happened in the last few days, Bakugou came to two realisations. One, he did, indeed, have romantic feelings for Kirishima, way beyond a simple crush. And two, he had no idea how to deal with that.

Because how could something, that was this difficult, possibly be right?

#kiribaku #side tododeku #side erasermic #erasermic #dadzawa #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #kirishima #kirishima eijirou

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drangues · 4 years

Text

Impervious

The Armed Detective Agency was in something of a chaotic frenzy.

This, in and of itself, was not anything new- Day in and out, if one listened hard enough, they could hear the infuriated screams of one Kunikida Doppo as he frantically chased after his coworkers in a futile attempt to get them to complete whatever paperwork they were avoiding that day. Hearing the terrified screams of the patients- Or perhaps, the victims- Of one Yosano Akiko’s medical practices also wasn’t too out of the norm, for the area.

What was out of the norm was the genuinely fearful air about the workers of the Agency- Every single one of them was rushed, in some way, and they all bore a frenzied energy that seemed to refuse the idea of sitting still.

And if one looked into the Agency’s office space, they’d find the reason why.

xxx—xxx—xxx

There was not a single member of the Armed Detective Agency that was having a good day, and it wasn’t even in the “we’ll laugh about this later!” way that Dazai Osamu liked to torment his coworkers with. To be fair, the man himself was hardly in the mood to be pulling pranks and making a mockery of everyone- And it was all for one simple reason.

Nakajima Atsushi had gone missing.

He wasn’t sick or calling out of work for some other reason, because Izumi Kyōka had seen him before she left their shared apartment, Kunikida had called to make certain that he wasn’t feeling ill and had forgotten to notify them, and Dazai had even broken into the apartment (without asking Kyōka) after all was said and done, just to double check.

He wasn’t lost in the depths of Yokohama, because Miyazawa Kenji and the Tanizaki siblings, Jun’ichirō and Naomi, had been combing through the city on foot to make sure he hadn’t gotten sucked into any trouble, and Tayama Katai has been looking through the security records in every available place, both legally and illegally, just to cover all their bases.

He wasn’t in the custody of the Port Mafia, which they admittedly only knew because at least three separate people would have sent a message to gloat about having captured the weretiger.

(Also, Dazai had not-so-secretly pulled some of his older strings and broken out a few threats of dismemberment, but that was neither here nor there.)

No one knew where the white-haired male had gone, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that someone outside of the usual suspects had interfered in their lives.

Now if only they knew who the hell this new subject was.

xxx—xxx—xxx

When he opened his eyes, it became clear to Atsushi that something had gone very wrong between Point A and Point B on his way to work.

Admittedly, the day had started off somewhat badly to begin with- Kyōka has dropped the breakfast crêpe he’d made her on her way out the door, so he’d promised to make her a new one while she went on ahead. Then, once he’d finished with it, he’d realized that he was late, and that he was certain to get an earful from Kunikida about it. So he’d stepped up the pace and started running for the Agency, and then-

And then-

And then what?

He… Remembers, somewhat vaguely, someone stopping him as he ran. They wanted something, he thinks. Then… Nothing. The last thing he remembered seeing was-

Ah, he thinks, somewhat dully, I dropped the crêpe.

It wasn’t actually that big of an issue, all things considered- Clearly, he’d been kidnapped- And yet, that’s what stuck out at him. That’s what he remembered.

How stupid.

You couldn’t have remembered something actually useful? Your captor’s face, perhaps? Your surroundings?

Useless, awful beast-

Atsushi breathed in. Breathed out. Not right now. He couldn’t handle hallucinations right now. He needed to think. Whoever took him had to want something, right? Something from the Agency?

But what, and why-

Creeeaaak.

The door opens, slowly and loudly, and for the first time, he realized that he was, in fact in an inclosed space- He just hadn’t thought to use his senses to confirm it. He isn’t wearing a blindfold, but the light is flickering and dull- Certainly dim enough to offset anyone else, if they’d been caught. The air is stale, too, an old kind of scent that makes him think of earth and dirt- Underground, then. Maybe.

How would you know? You can barely even function as a detective on a normal day, much less when you’ve been taken by someone.

Should’ve left you to die in a ditch.

Should’ve let you starve.

Should’ve left you rotting in the basement-

With a shaky sigh, Atsushi manages to ignore the words that have always haunted him, and the figure of a man standing just at the corners of his vision. Instead, he takes in his captor.

They’re taller- Taller than him, anyways- With messy, frantically rumpled brown hair and wild, dark brown eyes. He looks like he just rolled out of bed- Or like he’s been too worked up to take care of himself.

Atsushi catches a whiff of his scent and immediately decides its the latter.

He doesn’t… Register everything the man says- He’s still groggy from being unconscious, and there’s a distractingly sickening pit in his stomach that gets deeper the more this man talks.

Dangerous.

Run.

Stay away.

Run

Run.

Run!

And it’s only as the man tightens his restraints and lets out an unhinged laugh that Atsushi realizes, with a dullness that only comes from experience-

Oh.

There’s a nail above his foot, and a few more set aside.

His captor raises a hammer.

I’ve seen your kind before.

Atsushi doesn’t scream.

xxx—xxx—xxx

It takes them four days, some intense virtual searching from Katai, and the intervention of Edogawa Ranpo (Who had been away on a mission for the Agency for the first three days, and who they hadn’t been able to contact) for the Agency to realize when Atsushi was taken, who took him, and where he might be at the moment.

Most alarmingly, alongside this information, they discover what might be happening to the weretiger while they tried to find him.

Hanmura Ryō was a man with an extensive criminal history, and the connections to make sure he never really had to suffer for it. He was well know for kidnapping and torturing people- Usually, those people are between the ages of seventeen and twenty one, and they mostly had silver or white hair. This torture could apparently range from a single day to a month, and he’d initially killed his victims after becoming bored of them.

Then his connections had proven to be powerful enough to keep him from facing any real consequences, and he took to leaving his victims alive after he was done with them- A last sort of mockery on their inability to do anything to him.

Needless to say, this information only worked the Agency up even further.

After all, Atsushi, as far as they were aware, had never really had any experience with being tortured- Which wasn’t to say that they’d be alright if he did have experience with it, but it made them worried that it would break him irreparably.

(Of course, unknown to them- Or perhaps, ignored by them- Atsushi did, in fact, have experience in that field.

It wasn’t his fault they didn’t believe him.)

Luckily, it only took a few more minutes of digging from Katai (Minutes filled with some very colorful threats from Dazai, and a distinctly murderous feeling from Kyōka) to narrow down the kidnapper’s location- And, with any luck, it will be Atsushi’s location, as well.

It’s Dazai, Yosano, and Kunikida that end up getting in the car to go on their rescue mission.

(Kyōka had wanted to go, but Fukuzawa Yukichi had very firmly put his foot down, regardless of her past experiences, and told her that Atsushi would much rather have the first face he sees upon returning be that of his little sister.

She was now waiting very stubbornly by the door to be exactly that, but he’d take what he could get.)

They just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

xxx—xxx—xxx

Atsushi doesn’t know how long it’s been, exactly, but he does know that he’s… Surprised? At how little this is all affecting him.

Oh, don’t misunderstand- He’s terrified out of his mind at being in a place that he never asked to be in, that’s so similar to a place he hated (Hates? Hated? Dazai and Jun’ichirō had made things so confusing…). He’s terrified that he can’t bring himself to use his Ability in such a place. He’s terrified that the Agency might not come for him- Because they can’t? Or worse, because they don’t want to.

But- While the nails going up and down his arms and his legs hurt- The torture itself isn’t getting to him. Oh, sure, the hot pokers that his captor had shoved in his gut hurt something awful, and getting his bones broken, only for them to heal, was an… Interesting experience, but.

But this wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before. If anything, it was tame in comparison.

The man hasn’t even tried to sew his mouth shut, like one of the Sister had when he was a child. He isn’t being forced to do labor while injured. There’s blood- His blood- But he isn’t being forced to clean it up. Words on his own worthlessness as a human being aren’t being forced into his head, day in and day out.

Well, they are being forced there, but he isn’t sure if a hallucination counts- It isn’t anything new, after all.

It hurts- Everything the man does hurts. His body aches, and he knows that, without Byakko, he’d be irreparably broken, physically speaking.

But he’s used to this sort of thing. “This sort of thing” is one of his earliest memories.

His captor screams, frustration coating his voice as he kicks Atsushi’s chair down. The pokers twist in their wounds, making him wince, but he still doesn’t make much of a sound at the feeling.

Breath in, breath out.

The man shrieks again, foot coming down on his spine with an audible crack for what must be the fifth time.

Remember- What’s better than being alive?

xxx—xxx—xxx

It doesn’t take all that long for the trio to arrive at their location- A fairly normal house, all things considered, if somewhat rundown and a bit out of date. The key feature is, of course, the basement they’re almost entirely certain is holding Atsushi.

(Everyone hopes that’s where he is, at least. They’re pretty sure that Dazai will actually go on a killing spree if it isn’t- And they don’t think they’d stop him.)

The entire building is silent upon initial observation, though, and none of them are quite sure how to feel about that.

Is he okay?

Is he gagged?

Is he dead is he dead is he-

Yosano enters first, and Dazai would complain if he didn’t know it was to give her quick access to Atsushi if he had a fatal injury. (Also, she was generally a badass, but that’s another story, entirely.) The two men follow behind, all three quiet as they scan the first room for anything potentially alarming.

There isn’t much, really. Just some dull, ratty carpets, thrown over the floor in haste, and cracking wallpaper.

Also, there’s a padlocked door at the far end, and they could’ve sworn there was screaming of some sort.

It doesn’t take much more than that for them to break down the offending door, which was apparently soundproofed somehow, because the screaming, while still indistinct, became much louder without it. In fact, the screaming itself didn’t even stop at the noise of the door falling.

They take the stairs two at a time, with the exception of Dazai, who simply skips walking down entirely to throw himself at the bottom, hitting the floor in a neat roll as he gets back up.

All three of them get weapons out, turning to face the source of the noise.

None of them were quite expecting what they saw.

xxx—xxx—xxx

Atsushi doesn’t know what he did to make his captor so mad, but he’s kind of wishing he hadn’t done it, regardless.

The man will. Not. Stop. Screaming.

For someone with sensitive ears, like Atsushi, it’s hardly a pleasant experience, and he isn’t entirely certain what he’s yelling about in the first place- Wasn’t he the kidnapped one, here?

He shifted again, causing the plethora of nails, pokers, and stakes that his captor and pressed into his body to tug at him uncomfortably- Any bruises created from the beatings he’d been given had long since healed, much to the man’s ire, and he’d eventually chosen to keep going with the only things that left lasting marks.

(That they only left lasting marks because he wouldn’t remove them was ignored, apparently.)

His head fell back against the dirt floor he’d been laying on ever since the man had knocked over the chair that was holding him.

You deserve this.

Weak. Useless. Mindless.

It’s your own fault, couldn’t even hear him coming-

Monster monster monster monster-

He shut his eyes, trying to block out the voices hissing in his ears- But concentrating was a lot harder with the hunger twisting in his gut. His captor hardly felt the need to feed him, after all.

A foot lashed out, driving a trio of nails on his collarbone deeper into his body, and he choked at the sensation.

It still wasn’t a scream, though, and the man snarled, foot reeling back to repeat his actions-

Thu-thud thu-thud thu-thud-

THUMP.

If he’d been using them, Atsushi’s tiger ears would’ve twitched at the noises- As it stood, he simply raised his head, attempting to peer into the front of the room, where his captor typically used as his entrance and exit.

He blinked.

To be fair, he didn’t think the man was expecting the sight behind him, either, if the look on his face as he twisted around was any indication.

Behind him stood Dazai Osamu, Yosano Akiko, and Kunikida Doppo of the Armed Detective Agency.

And they did not look happy.

xxx—xxx—xxx

When they found their missing coworker, they’d expected blood- Lots of blood, to be honest. Broken bones, screaming, the whole nine yards- And they technically got that.

They just. Weren’t expecting the screaming to come from Hanmura.

Oh, Atsushi was clearly in pain, sure- His eyes were glassy, and his breathing was far to rapid for their comfort- But he wasn’t screaming or cowering, as they were afraid he’d be.

By all rights, he seemed almost… Used to this.

Had they still been too late? They’d moved as fast as they could-

Had he broken completely?

Was he just stronger than they thought-

God, they hoped he was stronger than they thought he would be-

It takes them only a moment to regain their bearings, and within seconds, Dazai has shot Hanmura in both kneecaps with pinpoint accuracy, with Kunikida moving in to fully restrain him a moment later. Yosano, meanwhile, had immediately moved to Atsushi’s side, carefully removing him from his restraints with some quickly applied bolt cutters and lock picks.

After that, it doesn’t take long at all for her to begin examining one of her newest coworkers- Senior only to Kyōka, really. With as much care as can be afforded, she begins checking the wounds around every intrusion to his body before removing them and allowing the tiger to do its work.

Better safe than sorry, she thinks. Super healing or no, if infection had set in-

She pushes the thought aside, only really intervening in the healing itself to remove any cauterized areas- The fucker had used heated pokers at some point, then.

How lovely.

(And maybe she would typically be more sadistic, but even she has her limits- And she won’t make things worse for Atsushi after he’d just spent four days being tortured.)

Luckily, it takes only five minutes for her to remove all of the nails and stakes and pokers that had been shoved in the silver-haired male’s body, and soon enough, she’s able to help him to his feet, though he’s a bit unsteady, and far, far too light.

(He probably hadn’t been fed at all, and she sees Dazai stomp a foot down on one of Hanmura’s now-broken kneecaps.

Good.)

Once he’s up, she steps aside and let’s Dazai hold Atsushi, instead- The man has been worried out of his mind, after all, and she can’t say she blames him.

True to expectations, Dazai immediately wraps an arm around Atsushi’s back to steady him again before pressing his face into his neck in a sort of half-hug, and after some rather impressive, nonverbal back-and-forth, he convinces him to at least get on his back so that he doesn’t have to walk too much.

(Healed or no, the man had still be starved. So what if he wanted to take care of him a little bit?)

A mutual look between all three rescuers tells them that they’ll talk about this later- About why Atsushi seemed so unaffected, and about how the hell to make sure that Hanmura stays down- But for now, they have more important things to focus on.

It was time to go home.

xxx—xxx—xxx

Author’s Note: Yes! It is I, Nyanon!!! Anyways, you mentioned wanting a fic of the “Atsushi being tortured” idea I sent you on anon- Hopefully this is good enough!

Also, if you’re wondering why Atsushi didn’t just turn into a tiger and eat Hanmura- It was sort of meant to be a “he’s been in this situation before, and just pliantly doing what they wanted was how he survived” sort of thing? Because Trauma. Hopefully that makes sense!

#fic #dazatsu fic #kinda??#bsd fic #bsd fanfic #nyanon #nyatsushi anon #submission #THIS IS AMAZING #I LOVE IT #FUCK #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #if yall wanna send small snippets here then-feel free to do so #I WOULDNT MIND #just pls dont make it angst with sad ending .#thats all i dont want

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years

Text

Dobson’s favorite cartoon reviewed: The adventures of spandex girl in New York aka the Miraculous Ladybug movie

So THIS is not going to be about a Dobson comic, but rather with the lack of Dobson posting shit out here, I thought I give my opinion about something Dobson would have likely sperged out within the last few months. What could it be I want to talk about? The riots? The death of RBG? Cuties?

Are you insane? My brain may function better than Dobson’s, but even so I am not touching those subjects with a tong, seeing how I myself am lacking detailed knowledge on such subjects. No. I am talking about the cartoon that makes Dobson’s little brain (and dick) all tingly: Miraculous Ladybug.

For starters, let me just say that despite being an animation fan myself, I am not really into this show at all. For a magical girl show that goes on for over three seasons at this point, I just feel like nothing happens in it. Sure, A LOT of tokusatsu and magical girl shows run on repetitive monster of the week formulas, but overall they will still have some progression to themselves. Growing up with Sailor Moon, I always loved the first season and how it actually made me feel like things are increasingly at stake as the story progressed. Especially in the final episodes when the Senshis actually died protecting Sailor Moon and it was only thanks to a Deus ex machina everyone was reincarnated again. As melodramatic as Sailor Moon could be, at least each story arc had a beginning and ending that did not overstay its welcome. Ladybug meanwhile can be summed up as followed:

Teenage girl is thirsty for obvious blond boy whose dad wants to get magic jewelry to necromance his comatose wife. Teenage girl gets magic jewelry and turns into heroine in ladybug mustered spandex suit that makes rule34 artists all tingly. Same goes for boy she has the hots for, only he becomes gimp catsuit shota bait. Bad guy transforms random citizens who feel down for some reason (often times connected to a blond whose family name Dobson can’t write) into action figure like super villains. Ladybug and Cat Noir defeat them, the damage is reseted, Ladybug and Cat Noir never figure out who the other one is despite things being so obvious Ray Charles could have seen that shit coming. Repeat not just for one, but ALL seasons so far and add as little as possible storywise to increase the roaster of characters, but not progress the plot.

All that said, I can say that there are worse shows out there and for a show meant to sell toys to girls and be about a female hero, it is not THAT bad. But a) the creator is an asshole (think of functional Dobson) and b) there are still better shows to watch, even within the preteen magical girl genre, than this. Not to forget that this thing may be the indirect successor of Totally Spies and give certain people internet related fetishes within the next few years.

So, why am I believing Dobson would talk about the show at least for today more than he already tends to do on average? Because Ladybug actually got now a movie.

Well, it is called a movie, but in reality it is more of a 3 parter to start the fourth season if you really look into it. The thing is called Miraculous World: New York – United HeroeZ. It clocks in around 65 minutes and focuses on Marinette and Adrien in New York, teaming up with new heroes that are so unsubtlety promoted in this movie, I expect them to get their own spin off series by the end of next year so the showmakers can milk the cow even drier.

Let me try to elaborate in what is going to be a less than just a bit snarky summary with a few critical points and jokes at Dobson’s expense thrown in here. In other words, the typical biased youtube reaction channel/movie review. Spoiler warnings are obvious and I promise than unlike certain pedos on youtube I am not going to focus on the assets of underaged French girls. I do warn however for increased levels of making a fool of myself by writing a multi page “mock summary” of this thing.

So because the movie is based on a children show, it has a very basic set up; Adrien and Marinette’s class is invited to spend one week in New York, because of a pointless international collaboration thing referred to as French-American Friendship week. The sheer existence of this showing that a) we needed any reason to get them there and b) this special was worked on LONG before COVID19 hit us all. And yes, I know animation takes its time to be done, I just think it is funny how in today’s international political climate and health situation this thing has become outdated already, when it is hitting the tv just now.

At the same time, Adrien’s dad suspects that an artifact currently shown at a museum in New York may be a missing Miraculous that was owned by the Marquis de La Fayette and gifted to George Washington during the American Revolution. And yes, we are going there and you can guess what Hawkmoth’s goal this time is, while at the same time history gets fucked up the butt.

But before we can get to any action in New York, we have to deal with the one thing Ladybug is known for best: Cringy shipping bait.

Look, I know that shipping is a part of magical girl shows in general, but the shit going on in this cartoon is not only drawn out tediously even for children tv standards, I find it makes some characters outright dumb and unlikable. We get it Marinette, Adrien makes you tingle. But can you stop cringing your way through life around him in a manner that would make Tomoko Kuroki say that you are freaking pathetic?

I don’t want anybody else. when I think about Adrien I...

Just three minutes into this movie she essentially melts away at a poster of Adrien and throughout the first 15 minutes she just simps away in the big blue yonder. For example by asking Adrien’s dad to allow his son to travel with the others to New York, obviously stumbling upon her words when she needs to remind herself that she can only see Adrien now as a friend and not love interest (because this is supposedly set after season 3, when she decided to go for the second price in form of the guy who plays guitar), insisting that she is only “friends” to the point even her best friend Alya gets fed up. Or when Marinette gets more than just “a bit” nervous at the chance of sitting on her flight to New York next to Adrien, resulting in her fucking that chance up so badly, I felt an headache approaching.

Not gonna lie, I had to pause a few times because it got so cringy for me, I wondered why Dobson makes primarily jokes on Adrien’s expense when Marinette herself is female thirst personified. Even the movie seems to point out how the two are so obvious to each other, when Alya has the following to say about them: I can’t decide if they are the most cutest people I know, or the most embarrassing.

Thankfully it is at 18 minutes into it, we FINALLY get something of a conflict. While still on the plane (And Adrien and Marinette watching a sunset through a window) a villain shows up, trying to steal the jet engine midflight.

Just roll with it

Thankfully, before the plane can go down thanks to a Gremlin on the wing- I mean TECHNO PIRATE, the real stars of the movie show up.

Wait, you thought this thing was going to be about Ladybug and Cat Noir being the primary heroes? WRONG!

Okay, to put the summary on hold and explain what I mean: This “movie” introduces us to “United HeroeZ”, a group of American superheroes. Yeah, turns out Miraculous is essentially set in your average “Superheroes are everywhere, but primarily US dominated territory” world and this story is meant to introduce us to them and have Ladybug and Cat Noir team up in order to save the day. And while I don’t necessarily HATE the characters, I have to admit that I can’t help myself but snark quite a bit about them. Not only are they for the most part just expies of well known superheroes, the way how prominent two of them in particular are featured in this movie makes it very, VERY obvious that (As I stated earlier) this thing aims just to create a tie-in show for the creators to make more money of the property. Not just that, but their presence in a way reduces Adrien and Marinette’s importance as characters, even though the new ones at best would count as supportive characters overall. Which again makes me wonder, what does it say about Ladybug and Cat Noir’s “impact” in their own franchise when I actually find myself more interested in the side characters made to promote new toys, than the actual leads?

Anyway, United HeroeZ defeats Techno Pirate and in doing so we are introduced to the main members of the group which are relevant for this movie:

So please, give an applause for…. MAJESTIA (aka actually decent Powergirl redesign/Non Superman)

SPARROW (Aka yet another Robin that may get hit by a crowbar)

UNCANNEY VALLEY (aka The Shipper on Deck/Cleopatra in Tin Foil/Vision as your Waifu/the dumbest name you could have chosen for a character!)

NIGHT OWL (aka Alan Moore is going to be pissed!/Oh look, it’s Batman!)

You get where I am coming from when I call them expies, right?

Anyway, with the plane safe the class finally gets to New York. Both Sparrow and Uncanney Valley get tasked to go undercover with the students and assure they are save during the trip, because plot reasons and New York is supposedly enough of a safe place that their services aren’t needed to fight bigger threats currently. Which confirms at the very least that a) this is not the Marvel Universe cause at this point the town may be ground zero yet again and b) a way more enjoyable version of the Big Apple than the real deal.

By the way, these are Uncanney (left) and Sparrow’s (right) civilian identities :

I can now imagine Dobson wanting to proclaim how problematic the character is for being a native American who looks the way she does. But believe me. It gets kinda worse in all the right ways.

Also, we are 28 minutes into the movie and we are introduced to the dumbest thing in the movie yet. The arch enemy of the Condiment King; Hot Dog Dan.

A superhero hot dog vendor seller with a flying hot dog truck, whose hot dogs give you temporarily some random superpowers when you eat them. And it seems he uses hot dog tongs as weapons.

I don’t know what the people making this show take, but I am torn between wanting some of that myself and putting them into rehab.

I really bring the character just up because he is as a concept in itself so ridiculous that part of me thinks he is a fever dream of Dobson. Otherwise he has no real bearing on what is going to happen on the rest of the movie. He is just relevant for a three minute long scene of a house roof party during which Adrien and Marinette dance for a bit.

Speaking of relevance, the next day the class finally gets to do something on the trip that leads into conflict for our heroes to face. During a visit of the museum where the La Fayette related Miraculous is hold, Uncanny and Sparrow decide to play shipper on deck by forcing Marinette and Adrien in a room and attempting to set a really stupid plot into motion (and no, I don’t mean they enforce a reenactment of Steven Universe or something). At the same time the villains finally do something, when Hawkmoth (now in New York) turns Techno Pirate into his latest minion and have him attack the museum to steal a saber by La Fayette as distraction, while he takes the charm he is out for. Long story short: Our heroes FINALLY transform and have to fight with Uncanney and Sparrow against Techno Pirate on the roofs of Manhattan.

And while I don’t think it is all that great of a fight, it still means something aside of Marinette cringing her way through the plot is happening and the heroes are actually in decent peril. Plus during the fight the movie gives me one of the funniest moments possible. You want to know what it is?

Well, while fighting the bad guy, Cat Noir and Ladybug obviously trigger their miraculouses. And what does Ladybugs miraculous turn into this time, to help her develop a strategy to defeat the villain and save the day?

A bikepump.

... yeah, I am going to give all of you now 5 minutes to laugh it off. Believe me, I needed them too.

Sure, it is a cartoon and I doubt anyone working on the show is even aware of our favorite uncare bear, but come on. At this point the universe itself is either mocking Dobson or tries to set up the perfect opportunity for an obvious joke from my side.

Not helped by the fact that once the bike pump shows up, the dialogue between characters that follows is, and I quote:

Cat: A bicycle pump? What are you going to do with that?

Ladybug: I may have an idea, but you wouldn’t like it

Anyway, believe it or not, the fight actually ends with a surprising shock moment. Cat Noir, while having his cataclysm powers active (you know, the powers that make him decompose anything he touches), being thrown by Techno Pirate at Ladybug, resulting in Uncanney protecting her and being turned into scrap metal. Which in turn causes Techno Pirate to make the acquaintance with Majestia’s fist, as Uncanney is more or less her adopted daughter and I guess she has seen what was going on (but did not interfere because the plot says so) until now, pummeling him so hard he flies through a few buildings and causes at least three 9/11 to happen on this day in New York.

So, yeah. Uncanney is dead. The heroes experiencing their darkest hour in the movie.

… welp, can’t have that for long, so less than 2 minutes later Ladybug uses the Magical bikepump…

5 minutes of laughter later

Got it out of the system? Good. As I was saying; She uses the fetish toy to reset all the damage done by the akumatized villain and in doing so fixes Uncanney too.

Welp, that was a waste of tension. Guess someone watched the entire Lars dying thing from Steven Universe.

So, damage undone, but Majestia and Night Owl pretty pissed at what happened, want Ladybug and Cat Noir to give up their miraculouses (I assume that is the correct plural) until they leave New York. You would expect this to result in some dramatic chase scene or confrontation with the older heroes, but because this movie has just like 22 minutes left and we need to close act two now, our heroes instead flee and end up in the sewers of New York.

There they do NOT team up with a group of mutated reptiles, but have a heart to heart talk (I never thought I would agree with Dobson on something, but I have to agree on this: The show is kinda fixated on having important stuff happening in sewer channels) that is sort of an argument Cat Noir and Ladybug also had during the fight. You see, because those two idiots haven’t figured out their respective civilian identities yet (something even Sailor Moon would have figured out AFTER THREE SEASONS!) Marinette assumed that Cat Noir would be in Paris while she is in New York to keep the city save. And Adrien/Noir was okay with making the promise of keeping the city initially save, because his dad only allowed him on the trip the day after he made the promise. So when the two transform out of sight of the other in New York and meet, instead of asking some logical questions (like “where is Marinette/Adrien and why is Cat/Ladybug here?”) they kinda argue wtf Cat is doing here while Paris may be in danger.

Long story short, she is angry at him, he feels guilty for having disappointed her and the thing with turning Uncanney into scrap, Paris was attacked by Hawkmoth’s secretary unleashing temporarily some monster clone because Hawkmoth thought that distracts the heroes in Paris (and really just results in damage that makes a city that experienced the destruction of Notre Dame the year prior just feel numb) and because this is the turning point in the plot, our hero needs to do something just a bit too melodramatic. Which is that Adrien gives up his powers and runs away.

… so, up to the final part in which things to care about start to happen.

Hawkmoth now has the Miraculous and unleashes its Kwami who is this eagle themed little thing referring to itself as the “Kwami of Freedom”.

… Yeah, this thing was NOT around for the last 200 years, wasn’t it?

Anyway, it states that its powers are based on “freeing” people of limitations to achieve their full potential. What does that mean practically? It means that when Techno Pirate holds its powers on top of his regular powers increased by being akumatized, he can unleash some energy attack that removes moral inhibitions when getting hit by it.

… So it basically unleashes the Purge.

Which is exactly what happens to Majestia and Night Owl, turning one into Man of Steel Superman causing nine additional 9/11s on top of the three prior (how the fuck did this movie manage to turn an American tragedy in a measuring unit?) and the other into All Star Batman.

Oh and it turns the President of the USA into a worse war monger than people accuse Trump of being.

Oh, this is NOT going to sit well with anyone...

… Yeah, sidenote: The president of the USA in this movie is essentially Michelle Obama who ALSO is a superhero with an American flag theme and besties with Majestica and Night Owl, trying to protect the exchange students. Because supposedly NOTHING better needs to be done. Once she gets hit by the “Freedom Feathers” or whatever you want to call the Kwami power, she pulls out the Football and activates turrets all over the USA, ready to blow up anything that moves into smithereens. Including at least 10.000 such turrets on the roofs of New York and a nuclear missile in the bay near the Statue of Liberty.

I’ll take it to the people with the eagle not the dove. If there is one thing that obedience is symptomatic of, it’s W-E-A-P-O-N-R-Y... WEAPONRY, from above!

(BTW, the rocket is animated like shit!)

I get the feeling someone on the production team is not the biggest fan of America.

Anyway, with the heroes being useless and Marinette and Adrien mopping around for what happened during the battle (and Adrien being tricked by his dad to leave New York and get back on a plane cause this town is not save and Adrien can’t fucking stand up to his emotionally abusive father), Uncanney and Sparrow have to get the ball rolling so the day can be saved. Which means that Sparrow and Ladybug try to fight and distract people for time (off screen mostly), while Uncanney hijacks Adrien’s plane and brings him back to take up the gimp suit of Cat Noir again. Oh yeah, almost forgot, Uncanney, cause she is a robot, has figured out easily who Ladybug and Adrien really are cause scanning. Making our heroes literally dumber than a walking toaster.

So the four finally together, fight Techno Pirate on the Statue of Liberty a second time (after some hijinx with another corrupted hero whose power is literally to create portals through doors, but he is irrelevant for anything so I skipped him up until now) and defeat him. He loses the Miraculous, Sparrow takes it on and becomes its next official owner, resulting in her costume turning into THIS

So now we have the native American girl turn into an eagle based superhero with a costume that looks like out of a western based Lego set.

Real talk here: Unlike Dobson I do not believe that everything is political or offensive or some other shit. In fact I hate his comic where he talks about “skin color changes” of the black characters in Ladybug, because he essentially tries to create a race issue and tension where there is none, just because he is a social justice moron. Which gets especially funny when his ideas for a progressive female results in characters like the black rat pirat who kicks you in the face for being hetero or infantilizing the characters of Patty to make them visually more appealing to Max Karson.

That said, in this day and age, doing a character like that… kinda yaiks.

Like, on one hand I think the girl has an enjoyable personality and the design of her hero outfit is okay for a kids cartoon. It’s not like she also talks in some cartoonishly native way or has suddenly a tomahawk as a weapon.

On the other hand, it is kinda stereotypical from multiple ankles and unfortunately there is nothing to the character past this point. Oh sure, Sparrow has now Miraculous powers, but really, all she does now is just use her powers to nullify Techno Pirates influence on the adult heroes before Majestia manages to reenact the bad ending for Majora’s mask and that is it.

Granted, there is Hawkmoth also almost starting World War 3, but that is really just happening at the site and dealt with almost instantly. To be more specific, because Ladybug and Cat Noir did not hand over their Miraculous, he lets Techno Pirate launch one of the missiles near the Statue of Liberty (worse president than Trump, honestly) but before the thing can hit anything, Majestia sweeps it away and throws it into the sun.

You know, if the show writers want to make Adrien’s dad even remotely “sympathetic” or interesting/intelligent, they increasingly fail. Cause I don’t know about you, but causing World War 3 does not really feel like it will benefit in bringing your comatose wife back.

Bottom line: Nuke has been burned, Techno Pirate gets defeated, all the damage reseted, Sparrow is now the official owner of the latest Miraculous and renames herself Eagle, everyone is happy, there is a big celebration for the class and Hawkmoth is convinced there might be other missing Miraculous all over the globe he wants to get his hands on, meaning season 4 may have more globe trotting Miraculous “action” once it starts.

And also the last scene of the movie shows Eagle and Uncanney meeting some other guardian of the Miraculous box who wants the Eagle charm, but she seemingly convinces him to team up, solidifying that this one hour “movie” was really just a backdoor pilot for a tie in series about an American centered heroine that is so big, a freaking monster truck could pass through this backdoor.

Yeah, if you can’t tell, I am not a big fan of what I saw.

Look, I will openly admit that my opinion on this is in large parts already tainted by me not being part of the demographic which enjoys the show. So this was never going to be considered “good” in my opinion. That said, I tried to be neutral to it for the sake of fairness. And I kinda failed.

Sorry, but I genuinely do not think this is a good “movie”. First, with barely 65 minutes I don’t really consider it a movie and more of a tv special meant to lead into the next season of the show. Second, I expect of a movie based on a tv show to have slightly higher stakes and presentation value to it than what you would expect from any average episode it has to offer. Which this thing doesn’t. Oh sure, the animation is slightly improved in some scenes, but overall just the same. And frankly, the writing is just still as “bad” as in the original show, if in parts not even worse. Aside of the typical stables, such as the cringy romance that does not move forward but is kinda on the forefront, the main heroes stumbling more or less into the situations instead of being more active in their duties, Hawkmoth not even in a movie having a genuine plan aside of “get this, see how it will help me defeat two kids and fail”, the movie also just never manages to induce a proper escalation of conflict to make it feel like something “special”. For example, we have a shitton of temporarily corrupted heroes. Do Ladybug and Cat Noir ever properly face them off at one point or have meaningful/fun interactions with Sparrow and Uncanney or each other outside of the first three minutes of the movie? Nope! I can name a few movies based on animated shows that gave me enjoyment, even those following basic shonen anime rules. But this one isn’t really among them. And taking into account that I consider at least the Steven Universe movie enjoyable in a dumb way, that says something.

There is also just the fact that it takes away from Ladybug and Cat Noir too much. Sure, I don’t like the romance stuff with them because I think it plays out in some of the cringiest way possible. But I would have been okay with them or other already established sidecharacters doing other stuff and having to face some conflict that is centered more around them.

Instead the movie finds this bizarre disbalance where it focuses too much and yet too little on completely new characters, that feel shoehorned in to create a starting point for a spin off, making Cat Noir and Ladybug secondary characters in their own movie.

I mean sure, I have seen many shonen anime based movies where there is a set of “movie only” characters interacting with our heroes, but they don’t take too much away from the heroes being heroes. Say what you want about the 13th movie of any long running shonen anime, at least Luffy, Naruto, Son Goku etc. are still the central characters of their respective franchise affiliated flic. Here however we take too much away from Ladybug and Cat, while at the same time focusing also too much on their “struggle” as Marinette and Adrien (or rather just Marinette making a fool out of herself while Adrien is utterly obvious to her behavior) while the major heroics are reserved for the movie characters only, that this entire thing should just be renamed “The Adventures of Mummy Robot and Not Robin, also starring two underaged kids that Dobson is obsessed about!”

All that said, I will give it a few things.

1) Uncanney and Sparrow/Eagle, despite my jabs, are kinda enjoyable in terms of personality. So are their partners/parents (Majestica and Night Owl are actually the (adoptive?) mothers of their sidekicks and also a couple openly caling themselves love, so yay, L(GBT) representation) and if the show would ever decide to focus also a few episodes on other characters aside of Ladybug and Cat Noir, I wouldn’t mind to see them. I just don’t think they are the most original characters out there and I think I may speak for some fans of the show when I say it sucks, that when it comes to the “action” within this “action adventure show”, they take up the spotlight from the actual main characters.

2) The fight scenes against Techno Pirate were okay overall. Nothing mind blowing animation wise but okay for the standards of this franchise.

3) Eagle’s costume design is not the worst despite my jabs at it being “stereotypical”, at least under consideration of cartoon designs (again, I can think of more offensive shit from the 90s or the Dobbear himself)

4) Well, it wasn’t for me, but I can say it was at least still on the same level of quality as the show. Make out of that comment however whatever you want.

My verdict: Three out of five Dobson’s would approve this movie. The other two would rant about stereotypes and be too busy incest shipping Majestia with Uncanney based on one shot of the movie. And none of them would acknowledge the flaws that make the “movie” a badly disguised jumping point for a spin off that makes the Equestria Girls look subtle.

Hope you got some enjoyment out of this rant that ironically may have been overall more retarted and detailed than anything Dobson may ever say in regard of this movie.

#miraculous ladybug #movie #marinette dupen chang #andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #syac #movie sperging #animated movie #sucks #mock #review #adrien x marinette

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