#and then there is ben who starts choking her and she cannot fight him??? BEN?

[smiletimeisrunningout]

one of those 'nothing has prompted this except me opening new verses and I'm anxious about people thinking I'm godmodding vs me unnecessarily weakening her to make people happy' posts about Emma's fighting skills:

-princess Emma, fantasy or historical, has been exercising from age 6 to 14, then officially training from 14 to 18, then aggressively training from then on as well as, from age 18 to now (30?) going out to fight in the field, which means not only severe fighting training with both swords and hand-to-hand combat but actual field experiences, which adds the whole 'dirty fighting/knowing tricks/actually knowing what she's doing' to the potential good form that she can ditch as needed. We are talking about 24 years of general training and exercising, of which 16 were of official training, 12 of severe training and field experience.

-modern Emma was always very athletic, playing sports and exercising, but not training to fight until nearly 18 when she took on various arts. From age 20 to now (30?) she went on to properly fight, especially in verses where she goes vigilante, but in general, and therefore has 10+ years of experience plus several of more rigid training. Also, guns, but mostly hand-to-hand. So ten years of training AND field experience.

so if your muse has less experience in the field/isn't properly trained and fighting randomly/is trained but not in hand-to-hand combat/is very strong but not trained or doesn't have actual serious experience, it's unlikely they'll win against Emma. In fact, if your muse is a muscular man who gets in a fight every now and then and that's all, they will immediately lose.

Keeping in mind factors such as luck/body type and what's their training and expertise of course. I feel like it's realistic, she earned it, she's not just being Special, but I cannot stand when in shows a woman is weaker regardless of experience and training just because the man is muscular. If unsure, ask and we'll plot.

[presbierue]

Sometimes I wish Star Wars had gone in a more cultish direction with the First Order because I think having a friendship (an unhealthy, dysfunctional and toxic one) between the First Order triumvirate would have been kinda cute in an off putting way but also a good source of angst and I love angst. Like, cults prey upon those who lack connection and are looking for a sense of purpose, and I think that would have played into the big connection themes in Star Wars.

Like, little Ben Solo looking for belonging, feeling lost and like he cannot possibly measure up to his family legacies and he meets two young people equally driven to live up to Imperial Legacies. Phasma is a common First Order child soldier who fascinated by Boba Fett who did whatever it took to win. She wants to be the best fighter, to be noticed and seen by others, and will do anything for it. She is already well on her way at a young age. Little Armitage Hux has a mild god complex, believing (knowing) that he could make an unbeatable Death Star, that he can fix the weaknesses of his family legacy (less of an unwanted child in this version, more of a single survivor of his bloodline deal) and restore his family name to greatness. He misses his family dearly and resents the hell out of the New Republic quietly though (would probably prefer his actual family back than greatness but lacks EQ to realize this).

Snoke offers Ben everything he wants: like minded peers and a chance to be as great as his family. That would be hard for a teen to turn down, especially as Snoke would be hiddibg the fine print of this deal.

Hux, Phasma and Ben would likely exist for long periods of time with minimal conflict between them as they aren’t direct competitors. Hux does a lot of the planning and scheming, Phasma runs the pragmatic and social game, and Kylo leads the spiritual and visionary role of the group. Yeah they probably quibble over what they specifically want and need for their own power and plans, but it would probably be low grade jabs that teens usually trade in. More “your stormtroopers are well trained in treason” than force choking and blaster fire. Cooperation would be the best way to increase their power and influence.

I feel like having both the good and bad guys have the whole “power of friendship” on their side would have been an interesting dynamic when contrasting them. Rey and Hux both want their families back but can’t have it so they cling to their friends, Finn and Phasma are ultimately just trying to survive in abysmal conditions (one goes high visibility violent to deter others from attacking her where Finn goes avoidant, only fighting long enough to flee), and Kylo and Poe are trying to reconcile their family legacies with their own personalities and abilities. The difference is that the First Order triumvirate is a much older and well defined connection that is adjusting to new changes and pressures; Hux won by the start of TFA he built an even better Death Star (I think having it blow up in the First movie was ultimately the wrong move it would have been more threatening if it hung in for all three movies to emphasize that the First Order isn’t messing around) and that puts pressure on Phasma and Kylo, who are still not at Legendary Boba Fett/Vader levels. Like, your friend rising to the top of the heap before 40 when you’re still trying to reach previous levels would sting. On the other hand, Hux might genuinely resent Kylo for killing Han, because Hux feels his victory is empty without his parents and siblings around to see it. Phasma and Kylo are probably too self conscious and jealous after Starkiller success to actually acknowledge that Hux did the thing until like movie 3 when there might be some emotional resolution for that group, so Hux is probably just sitting with a hollow victory all movie 2 and is now just fully depressed as the one thing he thought would make him happy didn’t. This could be resolved by end of movie 3 or blow up in their faces when their relationship can’t hack the pressures anymore.

Flip that to the tensions you could do with Rey, Finn and Poe. Poe feels like his mother and other rebellion sacrifices were for nothing since the First Order took over in like a week, so he feels like a failure which results in him taking bigger and bigger risks, threatening his own life. This freaks out Rey who is PETRIFIED of losing the people she cares about again, and Finn goes to an avoidant attachment style where he starts trying to not care about either of them and does a Han Solo Hoth exit (he comes back again quickly but it freaks Rey out even more so she’s not ending the middle movie in a good place). I think the end moral ends up being something like “Avoiding one kind of pain leads to another, be open about what you’re going through so people can help because you’re never completely alone” kinda thing. Maybe you can’t be the perfect Jedi who avoids fear entirely, but fear is a gift that tells you what you care about and you can work with that. The First Order Triumvirates cardinal sin is that they’re pursing outdated markers of success and security that they think will protect them and the people they care about, but it worsens their relationships and self worth instead.

IDK man this feels like an AU that I could develop into a full rework of the sequels but it is half baked at best. I just think it would be fun to Rey and Finn screeching at Luke to give them combat training while the whole time Luke is just bouncing Grogu and other Jedi younglings around and asking them “So do you feel like you can really trust each other, or do you trust that the other is useful in filling a gap in your own life?”. Just relationship counselling the shit out of everyone. Like, recontextualize the whole “can you control the darkness in yourself” Yoda question as “can you build a support network strong enough to support you and your loved ones when you feel the darkness”. Because while Leia, Han and Luke all tried that, they built networks that only worked for them, not the people they loved, which resulted in isolation and deterioration of their relationships over time (Leia rebuilt Alderaan, Han built a semi legal shipping company and Luke built his Jedi school, but none of those things had room for the people they loved).

Edit: also, it adds a degree of Kylo having to think it through at the end where he either has to actively destroy Phasma and Hux, the people he is closest to or back down. He has to actively do all the things that made Vader as miserable as he was (lose a parent, kill the one he loves most, betray his mentor/father figure) to HIMSELF. And that’s an interesting question: is this character actually resilient enough to go through what Vader did? Can you do it completely alone, with the knowledge that no one else could do this to you but you? When does self hatred become that destructive?

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

proof that diego hargreeves isn’t the hardened vigilante he thinks he is:

in his establishing character moment, he saves a mixed-race family who likely reminds him of his own, and despite the fact that he’s just single-handedly slaughtered a bunch of robbers, he takes the time to tell them “your family is safe now” in such a kind voice that they relax immediately

was so shy about dancing where people could see him that he took the time to close the living room doors before busting into the sickest dance moves you wouldn’t expect from somebody like him

when five’s portal appears, he shoves vanya behind him despite having told her earlier that she has no right coming back to the house after publishing Extra Ordinary

repeatedly guided their mother about during the funeral because grace was noticeably loopier than usual

after his fight with luther, he immediately goes to her, ushers her inside with a kind hand on her back, and opens the door for her like a perfect gentleman

despite the fact that he'd just told klaus he wouldn’t drive him anywhere, diego still waited for him, and was even smiling when klaus finally arrived and started talking about diarrhetic hippos

has outright said that his job is “saving lives, baby”

was nice to agnes, even when he could’ve just forced information out of her

repeatedly teased patch about liking his leather suit and domino mask

was friendly enough with the other policemen that even though he’d almost ruined an investigation by being too nosy for his own good, they still greet him brightly and are actually on a first-name basis with him

told patch that he does give a shit, not just about fighting crime, but also about her

went to her porch specifically after grace’s death, either because he wanted to guard her or because it was the only place he felt safe in that moment

actually jumped on hazel’s back to beat the shit out of him even better because he was choking allison

is the biggest momma’s boy on the planet oh my gosh i cannot stress this point enough and was so protective of her because she was the only one who showed him love and affection growing up

has a habit of getting mad when he’s worried about people (e.g. when vanya gets hurt, or seeing patch’s dead body)

was the only one--i repeat, the only one out of five other people--to notice that klaus was acting out of character and took the time to listen to his woes

cue a bonding moment because the both of them have lost so much in the span of a few days (“well, you’re luckier than most. when you lose someone, at least you can ... see them whenever you want”)

was polite to the soldiers at the veterans' bar because despite the fact that they were being rude, they were still heroes at one point in time and diego clearly respects that

didn’t say a single bad thing about the fact that his brother liked men; only agreeing that he was a pretty special person indeed to love someone like klaus

helped his brother get sober when no one else would

immediately offered to give allison blood, even though we all know just how scared he is of needles

was furious that luther locked vanya up, and it took luther shoving him away a few times from the handle before he gave up

watched his baby sister perform with so much wonder on his face, and was genuinely sorry that there was no other way to stop her

decides to honor patch’s memory by not killing cha-cha

lands in the past and what’s the first thing he does? save an innocent woman from getting mugged ugh idk where reggie ever got the idea that this boy was weak, the heroics run so strongly through his veins

was nothing but kind and understanding with lila because she's a survivor like him, and despite the fact that he’s got something of a hair trigger temper, he takes the time to explain simple things to her (”like yogurt”) and gives her a promise he takes careful measures to keep

was genuinely enjoying himself while dancing with lila, even though she was leading, and honestly that’s the most i’ve seen him smile throughout the series but i’m not even complaining

makes star wars references

WAS THE ONLY SIBLING WHO TOOK THE TIME TO GIVE ELLIOTT’S BODY A DECENT GRAVE BECAUSE HE WAS “ONE OF US”

is the pioneering member of Team Zero™️

was so genuinely happy to hear that ben was possessing klaus that his whole face lit up, and kept clutching him close because finally, after almost two decades of blaming himself for his brother’s death, it’s pretty clear that ben doesn’t have any grudges against him and doesn’t hold any of them accountable for letting him die on the mission

shares exactly one (1) braincell with Luther all throughout S2

forgave his sister as soon as she apologized because that was really all he needed

“you will be dead by midnight ... wrong number, have a lovely day”

“i almost had her, why the hell did you stop me?” “because ... i love her”

didn’t just use herb, and actually took the time to create a friendship + the coolest secret handshake ever with him, which is such a refreshing change from the stereotype in most media where the protagonists simply use side characters to further their goals, then discard them later on

was genuinely touched that klaus thought he looked like antonio banderas

was literally digging his knives into the FBI department floor, just to get to his baby sister and calm her down. CALM HER DOWN, not knock her out or kill her like before, because even though he doesn’t admit it outright, he’s grown fond of her, and it shows in the way he lets her lean against him on the porch

upon getting out from under a tractor that had been pinning his leg in place, what’s the first thing he does? “ALRIGHT TEAM ZERO” *awkward fist bump-high five with luther* i mean come on the levels of dork are just too much

is, in general, such a good and loving person, and that in itself is already a big thing because if you think about it, hargreeves’ training from hell would’ve turned anybody else into somebody as cruel and sadistic as him, but diego still managed to become the exact opposite of that because sure, he can be a little too cynical and snarky sometimes, but his heart has always been in the right place, and that's why we all love him

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Young Gods (Mandalorian AU)

Pairing: Sin!Din (or OOC just in case) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (m &f), Fingering, Light choking, Daddy kink, Thigh riding, Rough sex, Soft sex, Use of a safeword, Drug/Alcohol use, Violence, Guns/blood, Mentions of death, Mentions of police (not heavy), Language, Fluff, Barely there angst. (if I’m missing any I apologize)

Word Count: 12K+

Summary: Taken in by the Guild in the rough part of the city, you quickly meet Din Djarin, the best of the best. Who knew of the path it would lead you to?

A/N: The warnings did change from the preview, that’s always a given. I was going to make this fic a little darker but got carried away with it, but I’m willing to write oneshots off this because I simply love it. Also HUGE thanks to @ben-is-a-hoe​ for their unwavering patience for their request, you rock

***

You never knew your parents. Your biological ones, anyway. 

Lila and Billy took you in at a young age, raised and treated you as their own. Life was good with them, and they were amazing parents; you loved them, always had a good relationship with them but you just… fell into the wrong crowd. 

It didn’t take long for the fallout. The screaming matches when you came back home in the middle of the night, sometimes in cuffs or other times wasted with the new necklace you managed to snag. They kicked you out when it became too much and really, you don’t blame them. Not at all. 

From then on you jumped from group to group, big and small, did the jobs, and left. You never stayed, not for long, no matter what; they could never hold you down. 

So when Greef Karga found you pocketing the screamers and betters of cage matches down in Sorgan and asked you to join his Guild, you said yes on the spot.   

Bounty hunters. Mercenaries. Thieves. 

Call them what you like, they just got the job done. With good pay.

They reside in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, hidden in the shadows of the deep underground, in a warehouse that’s not too noticeable or colorful. Nervarro is pleasing to the eye day and night, if you turn away from the horrors that coincide within. That’s the trick, how it drags you into its claws.

That’s how you’re about to meet ‘Target Practice’ Din Djarin, infamous for his name from a well known joke after a job well done. 

“Tell them, tell them what you said after the state of that guy.”

“Tell them how you always get the job done.”

“Tell them the joke man.”

“What’d you say? To that guy right before…”

“Target practice.”

Though he doesn’t have a big name (yet), word still travels around about the Guild’s best bounty hunter, rarely seen without the signature leather jacket that signifies the kind of group you’re in; his signet is printed proud and big on the back of it. 

“Yeah Din Djarin, you know, the guy who fucked up Ran’s group. Took them all out like it was nothing.”

He’s dangerous. Ruthless. Punk. Traveler. 

You wonder if you’ll be here long enough to add more to the list. 

“Relax, kid,” Greef pats you on the back. 

You hadn’t realized your anxiety was showing. Why are you nervous? This isn’t your first time meeting someone equally dangerous, and he is going to be your new partner, after all. 

Because sometimes he comes back with trickles of blood on his knuckles. 

“Ah, and there he is!” 

Din come’s strolling in like he owns the place, with, of course, that jacket, skinny jeans and (biker?) boots; he oozes swagger and confidence, the kind that can really irk a person. And what kinda makes it worse is that he’s handsome as fuck, too, even in the punkish get out. Dark, floofy curls that match the intensity of his eyes—and his outfit—plump, chapped lips with a curl, crooked nose and tan skin; he’s beautiful in your eyes, but you are not going to admit that. 

“Din, this is the new recruit. She doesn’t know much now, but she’s got a lot of spitfire and eagerness to make up for it. Set her up, make sure she’s comfortable, then get to work.” Greef nods at the both of you and walks away. 

Oh, great. 

“H-hi,” you clear your throat. Pull yourself together! You tell him your name and stick your hand out. 

Dark chocolate brown eyes glimpse once at your hand before he shakes it; firmly and short, with no smile or offered greeting in return. You expected as much. 

“Start off by telling me what you know first.” 

His voice. Oh his voice is light with age but deep and gruff; it could melt you and put you to sleep. 

“Well I can pick locks, and I’m pretty okay at stealing.” That sounds so pathetic compared to this batch. 

“Hand-to-hand it is today. Follow me.” 

You follow him around the warehouse—a big, comfy warehouse you’re finding out—and he leads you to what you can automatically tell is the gym; or training room, you should say. He walks around the mat in the middle of the room, and throws a set of keys inside what you assume is an office and shuts the door with a click. 

“Before we do that, I want you to show me your skills,” he instructs. “Karga is cheap, and so is about everyone else here. They’re not going to be happy if they cannot get into their office, or if they have to break the door down to get in. So prevent that from happening, newbie.”

Newbie?

“Newbie?” You repeat. “What are we in, middle school?”

You could’ve sworn his lips just twitched there, but he quickly shakes his head and huffs, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you realize that he’s waiting for you, so you kneel down and take your pins out of your pocket—a habit to always, always have them in hand. 

You twist your wrists carefully, listening for little clicks and ticks, until it lets out one more loud one and swings open under your pressure; he had to have known it was an easy one, so when you stand up and look at him, he looks unbothered and unimpressed. 

“Good,” he pushes himself off and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on a chair nearby. He’s wearing a short, black sleeve shirt underneath, with jeans on, too. So are you. 

“Should we change into something more comfortable or?” You ask awkwardly. 

He ignores you again and climbs in between the ropes of the ring. You sigh and climb in, thanking the Maker you didn’t fall or get tangled; it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay?

“Okay, now wh—”

Your feet sweep out from under you. It all happens so quickly, you don’t even know what hit you and you’re falling straight on your back on the hard, wooden mat. A gust of wind leaves your chest in huffs, your back arching and stinging under the assault. 

“What the—ow, fuck—what the fuck was that?” You wince as you help yourself up, rather pathetically if you ask but you just got your ass handed to you in the simplest way. 

“You need to be aware of your surroundings” Din says, not in a gloating way as you suspect most of the others would show towards the new people, but in a way that’s instructional and you internally thank him graciously for it. “Doing these jobs, being a part of our group, it means you have to be alert at all times. Understand?” You nod. “Good. Let’s go again.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, bouncing on your feet. He puffs his chest out a little—he’s got a slim but muscular build, not by much but you know it’s there—and you clench your fists, readying them in a defensive stance. 

“Good, you know that much.” 

It’s so sarcastic you want to punch him. 

So that’s what you try doing by lunging at him, hoping to catch him off guard—and hey, on the first day too? You can use that—but next thing you know his wrist wraps around your closed fist and twists. 

“OW!” You howl, straining under the pressure; he twists your arm just a little deeper, making you flinch in return. 

Pine, you smell pine, leather, and… you think that may be gunpowder. 

“Don’t be so predictable,” he says, barely there whispers of his breath hitting your neck. You hope he doesn’t feel the shiver that just went through you. “Trying to catch someone by surprise can be good, if you know the right way to do it.” He finally lets you go and you sigh in relief as you clutch your arm to your chest. “We can stop for today, if you want.”

You want to say yes in the worst way, already so done after feeling like your arm was about to be ripped out of its socket, but you also don’t want to seem like you can’t handle it on the first day.

“No, I can keep going,” you tell him confidently. 

He takes you down again and again, and when you’re eventually shown to your room, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow with a very, very sore and beaten body.

The smell of pine is faintly stuck on your pillow, and when you wake up, you think about that one curl on the top of his head that twirls almost down to his eyes.  

***

Din trains you endlessly for weeks and weeks and weeks until you start showing progress. 

The fighting is actually easy once you get the hang of it, and you’re proud to say that you’ve knocked the man off his feet once or twice.

What’s frustrating though is that, for being your new partner, he barely talks to you at all. Sure, when it’s during training or about jobs he will, but other than that he makes no attempts on at least getting to know you. It pisses you off when you see him trailing behind his small group of friends, a whiff of smoke that smells green airing off them, laughing up a storm with them. 

And what’s worse is that you’re not sure why you’re so hurt and frustrated by this. It’s not like you were supposed to be friends or anything. That was usually your number one rule. 

It’s the dreams, you think. It’s the smell of pine and leather and powder that’s specifically Din. It’s imaging what his cock would feel like pounding into you. It’s watching silently from afar, trying to piece the enigma of a man out; the puzzle. 

It’s when you catch him glancing away from you when you turn to him, whether that be during training or across the room during a meeting or that one time, when you got caught in the rain and ran up to your room, drenched and shivering, and you accidentally ran into him in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’m sorry!” You scrambled in his arms. 

His warm, very warm, strong arms. 

You looked up, waiting for him to let you go, but his arms stayed wrapped around you. When you looked up to say something—hey, there’s a puddle starting to form at my feet and I’m sure you don’t want damp clothes for the rest of the night, wherever you’re going—you didn’t miss the way his eyes sought after the beads of water that was trailing down your face and chest, or the way he quickly licked his lips when they slipped underneath your shirt.   

It made you shiver in a different way and he noticed.

Finally he seemed to shake himself out of his daze and backed away from you like you lit him on fire; perhaps in a way, you did.     

It’s when you find yourself studying him; when he’s eating lunch alone, when he’s leaning against a corner of a wall in whatever room you may be in, watching everyone else. When he never turns down a job and always usually comes back successful and you feel glad. 

And especially when, in the middle of training, he’ll press up extra close to you, letting you feel the hard (soft) planes of his body, or when his hands linger longer than they should on your knees when helping you stretch. 

It’s like this building tension between you that’s so thick you’d need a machete to cut through it.

But other than that, you can’t complain. 

“C’mon tough guy,” you mock, bouncing on your feet on the mat. 

Din stands up, rubbing his neck in a wince and throws you a dirty look. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” he mumbles.

“I’m not,” you say defensibly. He leans on one of the ropes, lifting it up. “Oh come on really?” You pout, stomping towards him. “I barely lifted you up and you’re acting like a chi—I–ILD!”

You scramble and flail like a chicken with its head cut off as you fall, barely able to blink before you’re flat on your back. You groan in pain with what little strength just left your body—it’s really not that bad because he took most of your fall with his—

Holy shit you didn’t realize he was practically laying on top of you. 

His breathing is even compared to yours, with his hands wrapped around your head and lower back, preventing you from being seriously hurt; the tip of his nose is touching yours and, today, you can smell the Melioorun on his breath. 

This feels like one of the most awkward and hottest moments of your life. You don’t move, don’t speak or breathe, and one day you’ll have to ask him how he always stays so fucking calm when it feels like you’re about to explode any second now. 

Should you move? Just bite the bullet and risk it all?

His warmth leaves you just as quickly as it happened in the first place and holds his hand out. You stare at it dumbly for probably too long and take it; it doesn’t help when his hand flexes in yours. 

“Guess I deserved that,” you say sheepishly. 

It’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking about. His expression is unreadable to you and he’s characteristically quiet as always—so, what’s new, really?

“You start a new lesson tomorrow.” He says, and walks away just as you’re about to ask what it is. 

That night it’s the juice and his arms you come to. 

Does he know?

Now, you’re assigned to Omera, a very kind woman, who is going to teach you on how to shoot. You hear it’s not hard to figure out. 

“Hi!” She greets warmly in a hug. “It’s very nice to finally meet Din’s new partner.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Oh he’s like that with every new person he meets,” she assures you gently while setting up the targets. Target Practice. “I wouldn’t take offense to it. Just need to give him some time.”

“Right,” you nod absently.

“Here.” She hands you a pair of sound cancelling headphones. “Put this on and grab the gun when you’re ready.”

Your heart beats a little faster when the cool heavy weight of the pistol touches your skin. Omera shows you the proper stance and how to set your sights, and lets you try your first shot on your own; the kickback is small, and the thrill is accelerating. 

“Wow okay,” you laugh, setting the gun down very gently and taking the headphones off. She joins you, probably knowing the kind of high you’re feeling right now. 

“It takes a little bit of time to get used to,” she explains. “But you take your time with this. Better safe than sorry, right?”

You wanna be as good as ‘Target Practice’ Din Djairn?

“Right.” You nod.  

This lesson is longer than Din’s regular, but considering, it’s nothing but fair. When it’s over and you go out to eat, you’re surprised to see the man that’s been pestering your thoughts just about everyday, sitting at the bar with a cold drink in his hands; alone. 

Your palms start to slicken with sweat. Should you go over there? Just casually sit down like you didn’t even notice he was there? Was it really worth such a bother in the first place?

Your heart thuds in your ears as your body decides that, yes, it was time to make a move; he was your fucking partner for Maker’s sake. 

“Hey,” you greet normally—just like you didn’t notice he was there.

He looks up at you in surprise, clutching the glass in his hand tighter. He scowls and that makes you feel so small under his gaze. You should’ve just walked away. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asks annoyingly. 

Okay, now you’re just as annoyed as he is. “Why are you always such a dick to me, huh?” You demand quietly to not make a scene. “I barely know you and you act like I pissed in your drink.”

He snorts, looking in front of him now. “You didn’t do anything,” he sighs. You listen intently. “I just… look, right now this is just about work, alright? I don’t need anyone or anything distracting me.”

You roll your eyes in mild disgust. “Oh please, stop acting like the world revolves around you. There’s nothing wrong with at least being civil with the people you’re working with, no matter how much you don’t like them, and quite frankly, I don’t like being treated like shit for something I didn’t even do.”

Din turns back to you, staring at you with those intense eyes, not giving you the slightest hint of what he can be thinking about right now. It makes you not only nervous, but giddy, too; it’s enough for a small pool or arousal to flare between your legs. 

Finally he takes a large gulp of his drink, setting the empty glass down with a slam. “You’re right.” You gleam. “Tomorrow. You think you’re ready for your first job?”

On a whim, you say yes. He nods and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, slapping a handful of credits on the bar; the bartender reaches over to take it. 

“It covers her tab, as well,” Din tells him. 

You stare off in shock as he walks out of the bar.

***

Okay. Your first job. A simple, easy job. 

And you’re stuck in a small ass closet with a man who smells so fucking good and is currently pressed tightly against you, watching through the blinds for our quarry to come. 

It’s been at least an hour of this. 

Now the whole reason as to why you’re in a closet, is well, people. This man must love handing his keys out to his friends—or family, you don’t give a shit—and you were nearly caught twice before Din decided it was best to wait it out by hiding.      

You feel okay, that’s not what the problem is—you mean, you would really love it if you didn’t have to stand in a small space for seemingly hours now—but that’s not all that’s getting to you. 

It’s the man directly next to you that keeps bumping his hand against your thigh, so very close to your ass, and while most of it is accidental, you think that the other bumps are not. The warmth of his body is also quite distracting. Your mind starts flowing between images of what it may look like if he ever fucks you and what might happen when the quarry walks through that door.

“Stop moving,” he growls. Your leg hits the space between his, luckily lightly enough that it doesn’t sting but he grabs your shoulder to stop you. 

You can’t help but squirm again. “I’m sorry, this is just—hprm—uncomfortable.”

Din sighs and looks back through the blinds. “It could be another hour before he comes, so please just stop. Moving.”

You give him the best glare you can muster, and give him the finger since you’re at it. 

Another minute goes by. Tick tock. Maker it’s too hot for this. You didn’t sign up for this shit. You should be out there stealing something or picking locks like you were picked to, not stuck in this closet. Not with the Din Djarin, who can’t even grumble an ‘hi’ to you most days. 

Is it always going to be like this until you leave? Will Din still come to you, then, in your dreams, with honey dripping from his lips? 

…Are you seriously about to consider fucking like this?

“Stop it,” he suddenly snaps. “I can practically hear your thoughts and it’s not making this situation any better.”

Pfff. 

You purposefully jab your elbow deep in his ribs, happy with the pained grunt you receive. “Go fuck yourself.”

He curses and moves, childishly trying to put space between the two of you, and you swear you don’t know how this happens in the midst of your arguing and scurrying, but his knee ends up right against your clothed core and your thigh unintentionally rubs against the crotch of his skinny jeans. 

It’s barely there, but it still feels amazing. 

His hands, large and rough, grip your forearms tightly; not enough for it to hurt, but enough to get the point across. 

“Stop.” It comes out in a whisper, brushing right against the shell of your ear. Your pussy slickens and you can’t move, too enthralled with the turn of events (is he getting hard behind you holyfuckhemightbe) to reconnect with your mind. 

Curiously, you ponder on whether it’s always going to be like this, this little dance you and Din like to play—no, I wasn’t staring at you. No, I don’t think about you at all. No, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this, or steal that. No, that’s not my dick pressing up against you right now. No—

“You know I don’t normally fuck on the first job.” 

It comes out so thickly from you that it surprises even yourself. You practically hear the moment he freezes and stops breathing, and a smirk graces your lips in triumph. 

Before he can react, if he was going to, you hear the door that you carefully picked through open and in walks your quarry, sighing in relief as soon as the door closes behind him; if only he knew. 

Din busts out, gun in hand like none of that did not just fucking happen, pointed at the man—Terry, you believe you saw on the file—who flails against the door, trying to open it. Your gun scares him enough to make him stop. 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

You smirk at the line. It sounds so much like him. 

“L-look I’ll pay you double! Both, e-each, and I’ll-I’ll disappear, I swear!” 

You look towards Din with a side eye glance, just for your own amusement; you’re glad that he plays along, making a pathetic whimper escape from Terry’s lips. 

“Not gonna happen,” you chime. “C’mon, don’t make this harder for any of us.”

Terry is smarter than he looks because he reluctantly nods. You put your gun back into its holster and pull the cuffs snugly tight around his wrists. 

“Good choice.”

Easy. 

Din watches you silently as you lead the way to the car given (stolen) to you—a gorgeous black convertible—and, now you’re positive about this, you’re absolutely sure you felt his eyes on your ass the entire time. 

You wiggle when you help Terry into the seat and bend over riiiight as Din walks by to get to the other side. When you slide in the passenger side, his jaw is clenched tightly and his nose is open in a flare.

Ha. 

***

His friends invite you out to celebrate. 

Given that it was your first job—an easy one, really, with no blood spilt and an easy capture—that must mean that you’re worthy enough to be part of the clique now. Which means going to the local bar and drinking till the heart's content. 

You asked Omera if she would join you, but respectfully declined so you asked your other friend, Jem, whom you liked but she was rather loud. She said yes, of course, which is how you end up at the bar in one of the booths in the back, watching Din play pool and nursing a few fruity and expensive drinks. 

Jem already left you in favor of a young woman who made Jem giggle like a schoolgirl at every chance; well, good for her. 

So it was just you in the booth, debating on how drunk or sober you should be tonight. You’re leaning more towards the latter considering Jem wanted to drive you here when a shadow looms over you.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Din stands over you, looking so intently at you. You gulp and nod your head without even thinking. 

He indicates with a tilt of his head to follow, and you do without so much of a glance back—other than to let Jem know that you were leaving. 

He takes you to the back of the bar and through your confusion you realize he’s walking to a polished black motorcycle; you recognize it, see him with it so many times and yet it doesn’t register in your brain in that moment until you see it. You slow down at the sight of it. 

“You scared?” He asks when you stop. 

“Well I—” you lick your dry lips. “—I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He nods in understanding and holds out a helmet. “Trust me?”

You hesitate, not because it’s him that you don’t trust, but it’s the vehicle itself you do not trust. “Yes. Just please don’t crash.”

He chuckles as you slip the heavy protection over your head and sits himself down, waiting for you to situate yourself behind him before he starts the bike. The loud rumbles vibrate through you immediately and when he revs it you screech and clutch onto his middle in a death grip. 

“Hold on tight!” He shouts and takes off. 

The lurch barely drives you back yet it feels like you’re about to fall. Your head spins under the pressure, and your stomach is doing flips and turns all over as he pushes through the wind. 

You don’t want to open your eyes. You’re not very keen on seeing your impending doom, and this has to be one of the most scariest, exciting moments of your life. 

You feel him zigzag through the roads and alleyways; it’s late, late enough to where there’s no traffic in sight and the city is almost quiet. After moments of encouraging yourself, you finally open your eyes and pick your head up. 

Boy are you happy you did. You can see why Din likes riding this; it’s freeing, feeling the wind brush around you, buildings and lights blurring from the speed. Knowing that at any moment anything can happen but you don’t care; you’re invincible. 

You can also feel the warmth seeping off him and it reminds you of the closet; the vibrations under you doesn’t make it any better. 

Before you know it you’re already back at the warehouse. You’re a little disappointed, both from the short joyride and the short time spent with him, but it’s not like you’re exactly that surprised, either. 

You stand up on trembling legs—the good kind—and hand Din his helmet back with a smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and findles with the straps, looking down at his feet. You don’t know whether you should start walking away or not, so you shift on yours. 

“Wanna smoke with me?” He looks up. “On the roof?”

You grin, knowing what kind of smoke he’s talking about; it’s not your first time, and he’s asking you. “I’ll bring the snacks?”

He smiles; it’s a beautiful smile, a breathtaking one. “Yeah.”

You’re practically skipping towards the kitchen once you’re inside and you watch Din run up to his room. You grab a bunch of snacks that you like and have to wander around aimlessly for the ones you’ve seen Din pick off for minutes before you eventually have your hands worth and sneak up as quietly as you can to the rooftop. You kick at the door once you’re at the top. 

Din helps you place the snacks by the chairs he has set up. When you sit, you understand why he picked this spot; it faces directly towards the quietest and darkest part of the city, making it so the moon and stars shine brightly above. On this type of night, with a cool and gentle breeze in the summer air, it’s perfect. 

“There’s a blanket,” he interrupts your thoughts. He throws the thick pullover at you and you catch one part of it, the rest of it draping over your lap and slapping your face; he chuckles when, again, you give him the finger. 

He rolls the joint and you watch, his fingers moving delicately and expertely over the wrap. It’s even better watching him take the first hit, the way he inhales the smoke and holds it until he exhales it in swirls, his adams apple bobbing. When he passes it to you, you do it exactly the same. 

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he comments. 

You pass it back. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Din.” You tease. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Fair enough.” Pass. “So tell me then.”

This catches you off guard. “Oh,” you exaggerate. “Now you wanna know.” You both laugh, the effects setting in. Pass. “What brought this on?”

Pass. It’s out by then, but it’s not like you mind so much; he’s already rolling another. 

“You really wanna know?”

The way he asks it is like a dare. I dare you to say yes, because you may or may not like what you hear, but I promise you’ll be thinking about it. 

It is a tempting dare. 

And you’re falling for it. 

Hit. Pass. “Yes.”

Your body tingles with excitement when he eyes you up and down, goosebumps flaring your skin. Pass. Another second goes by. Pass. His eyes are getting darker if that’s possible. 

Your pussy is officially drenched now. 

“I know you watch me sometimes,” he says casually. Your heart stops. “I get it, I do… I pay attention to you, too.”

You don’t know whether your heart is going to completely stop or burst through your chest. “Yeah?” It comes out breathless. 

“Yeah.” Pass. “I know that you like that awful soup Rully likes to make.” The old man can make a mean soup! “You’re a thief, though it’s in moderation, save for that convertible of yours. You like to draw, I see you doodling on the walls all the time. You never stay in one place for long because you’re afraid of becoming attached, but mainly because you like to be free. You scrunch your face in this weird, adorable way when you’re concentrating, and you’re kind; you’re a good person and a good friend and I… as your partner, and maybe even friend, I trust you.”

Hit. Pass. 

You were speechless. 

How can you even top that off? You thought you had him all figured and yet here he is, blabbing facts about you that you didn’t even know he knew. 

Hit. 

“You like to be alone,” you start. “But you crave moments like these, too, with someone you’re comfortable with. You try to avoid conflict if you can despite your reputation, but you’re also not afraid to take it to that… level if need be. You respect the Guild and everything in it, and you want to be free, just like I do, and I can see that in the way you ride your bike, and the way you look at the sky now. It’s addicting, isn’t it? Being able to do what you want when you want, however you want, the peace and quiet you get with it...” 

He spreads his legs slightly wider as you pass the joint back. 

This moment is tense. It’s in the air, in the way the smoke curls around you and the way the dirty thoughts in your head makes your skin prickle even more. 

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you feel there’s nothing in the world but this. And you can’t help but feel like you understand him a little more now. 

“I’ve been thinking about the closet,” he finally says. Your breath hitches. 

A few seconds go by and you vaguely think that he’s probably waiting for you to answer, to see if this is okay. 

“M-me too.”

The chair squeaks quietly under his weight. “You felt it, didn’t you?” He almost coos this sweetly. “The way I was starting to get hard from your ass rubbing against me. You just could not stop moving and I started to think about all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for so long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” You whisper—it feels right to, as to not disturb this precious moment that’ll either make or break you. 

He shrugs, looks away like he has been doing when he’s getting shy; it’s an odd sight coming from such a man as himself, but it’s also cute and endearing. “I don’t know… I haven’t—I mean I have it’s just—”        

Din sighs in frustration. You get it—well, you get that he’s struggling, but not exactly sure as to why—and you don’t want to push him if he’s not ready to tell you what it is he wants to say, so you ignore the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and sit up straight. 

“You want an encore?” You interject boldly. “Because I’ve been thinking about it too.” You stand up, reveling in the way his eyes never leaves you; you have his whole attention now. “How your body was pressed just right against mine. How, some nights, I do imagine fucking you until you can’t handle it.” He audibly inhales sharply. 

You’re standing in front of him now, looming over him just as he did you at the bar. You feel powerful just doing this with the way his eyes light up and his mouth hangs slightly open and his fist tightens on the armrest of the chair. 

Nothing stops you from carefully settling each leg on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. You take the joint from him and take a big, long hit. You hold it in as you stub it out and gently cup Din’s chin, digging your fingers on the undersides of his light stubble cheeks; open. 

His mouth opens without resistance, taking in the cloud of smoke you’re breathing into his open mouth and nose. In the end, your lips meet his in a dirty, sloppy kiss that’s nothing but tongue and spit and teeth; it’s not perfect by all means, it’s a little painful with the clashing and there’s limited space given the chair, and, let’s be honest, your breaths are not the greatest either. 

But it’s like a coil snaps and he growls, wrapping his arms around you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to angle your head however he likes as he viciously attacks your mouth; his tongue glides over your teeth, swirling with yours in a battle you both know he’ll win, and you whimper into the kiss when his hips buckle up into yours. 

“Show me,” he orders gruffly. “Ride my thigh. Show me what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You don’t hesitate to jump off him and pull your jeans off—you stumble in your haste, but you could care less on how ridiculous you look doing it. You keep your underwear on, the air being slightly more chilly now, and climb back onto his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

He grabs your hips and helps you adjust your hot, drenched pussy over his clothed, beefy thigh; he pushes your panties to the side and teases you with a swift swipe over your clit. 

“Din,” you moan wantonly. At the first shallow thrust, you’re already a mess, the want finally getting the attention you’ve been begging silently for. Your clit slides deliciously against the rough fabric and you wish to the Maker above that you could scream as loud as you can without attracting attention, because by just the first few thrusts you’re already putty in his arms.

“Fuck I can feel you, pretty girl,” he gushes. “Even through my jeans I can feel how wet this pussy is for me.”

“For you,” you whine, continuing a slow grind. “For you, daddy.”

He groans and throws his head back when your knee bumps against his obvious hard on; it looks so big, even hidden behind clothes, and you know without a doubt that it’ll stretch you out to the brim. “That’s right babygirl. You’re doing good.” Then he grunts your name. 

You know what that means, somehow, and move your hips faster against him. It feels too good. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire in all the best ways, like he’s everywhere all at once and consuming you. You don’t want it to stop, it feels amazing and holy shit he’s flexing his thigh. 

He kisses you, makes you forget your own fucking name, and trails his lips down your neck, feeling around for your sweet spot. When he finds it behind your ear, he bites down and licks around the tender flesh. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, your pussy fluttering around nothing, clit pulsing deliciously under the friction. “I want your cock, Din. Think about riding it just—“ you swirl your hips and rewards you with a guttural grunt. “—like this.” 

He’s moaning with you now, gripping onto your hips tighter and tighter to the point of bruising, and you’re happy it will because you want to remember this moment, and the way just his thigh alone is making your cunt clench and body erupt in the most pleasurable way possible. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you moan, throwing your head back, clutching at the back of his neck and pulling on the small strands of hair you feel. “Din make me cum, I wanna feel it so fucking badly, oh shit.” You can’t stop, the words just escaping you like a broken faucet. 

He pushes his leg harder against your pussy and moves hips upwards in time with your thrusts. “I-I am t-too,” he stammers in a pitch; it sounds so erotic coming from him. “Cum with me, cum for me, now.”

As if you needed the permission, your pussy spasms on his leg and gushes the tight jeans, your mouth open in a silent scream, body tingling and squirming in his grasp. 

Din moans so sweetly it should be a sin and clutches at you, biting down on your chest through your shirt.   

The air is perfect now for your slick, hot skin. It takes a few moments for your head to reconnect with the rest of your body, and when it does you slump your weight against him. 

“Did you,” you take a deep breath, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you want me to?”

Din looks up lazily from your chest, understands what you’re gesturing to and shakes his head. 

“Already did.”

You look down and see the big, wet patch on the crouch of his pants. You laugh airily and stand up; your legs are wiggly, but your body is sated and happy, and he looks like he’s experiencing the same kind of bliss.  

Your thighs, slick with your own juices, slide roughly against your jeans uncomfortably as you pull them on, watching him adjust himself and clean himself off as best he can with the blanket he threw at you. 

“So,” you drawl. “Another session tomorrow night?”

Din smiles and sighs. “You read my mind.”

You feel like the happiest woman in the world. 

***

It’s heaven.

Being with him. The late nights, where you come back from a fight or a job laughing and stumbling over your feet in desperation to feel the other. The fucking. 

Din fucking you on every inch and corner of yours and his room any chance he has regardless if you’ll get caught; littering your skin with his marks and fucking you so hard you can barely walk without wincing the next day. Being able to feel the press of his lips against your skin, on your pussy, his hands caressing and bringing every ounce of pleasure from your body. 

Whispered words stolen by a kiss. Giving pieces of yourself that he equally returns. Feeling whole and alive for the first time in your young adulthood. 

It’s fucking paradise.

But the credits you have been saving reminds you of the intentions you had when first joining. You don’t even want to think about leaving right now. 

It isn’t the right time to worry. You’re out on a stakeout with Din, looking for a highly dangerous and wanted woman who, and you heavily admire her for this, once plucked a man's eyeball out with her bare hand. 

It’s the most fucked up and badass thing you’ve encountered yet. 

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You ask out of boredom. 

“No,” he huffs. 

Grump. 

“I Spy?”

“Fuck off.” 

“Thumb war?”

“What did I say?”

“Suck your dick?”

“No. Waitwha—yes, we can do that.”

You giggle and playfully shove his shoulder. “Perv.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.” 

“Yeah, only because you said no to everything else.”

“And we're on a job,” he quirks. “Pay attention.”

You stick your tongue at him. “There is such a thing as multitasking.”

“And I think you’re terrible at it,” he says, but it’s light to let you know he’s only teasing. 

“Whatever.”

…

“You know I think you still have time to suck my dick,” he comments.

“Fuck off.”

She doesn’t show until the sun sets, which you should have expected given the track history; it was easier to disappear in the dark. 

“There,” Din points to the dimly lit alleyway. She walks out of the door, looking both ways before closing it. 

He moves quickly and quietly with you trailing behind. The goal is to try and make it to her before she drives alway; she’s worth more alive than dead. 

You watch in the comforts of the shadows—she’s walking to a car that you hope is hers—and follow as close you can without raising suspicion. 

Just as your feet hit the curb on the street she’s on, glass explodes behind you in shards. 

She’s quick. You forgot to add that little detail. 

It’s all happening too fast for you and you’re standing there like a shocked dumbass, a fish stranded on land. This is the first time that’s ever happened. 

Another bang echoes through the still air and without warning you’re being shoved to the hard concrete ground, scraping your elbows and knees against the pavement. 

“Fuck!” Din hisses in your ear. “You gotta cover me from the left.” You take your gun out of the holster and nod; breathe. 

“Now!”

You whip up at the same time in different directions, guns up and aimed. 

And when you hear a chorus of blasts, you hope to the Maker that Din is still standing to your right.

All you can hear is the sounds of your pants. There’s something lying on the sidewalk where she was at, with something even darker pooling around them. 

Logically, it can’t be him because he’s supposed to be standing at your right, and there’s no logical way he got to the other side that quick, but you’re still in a state of shock by what just happened and where the fuck is he?

“Hey,” It sounds far away. You can’t even tell who it is. “Hey, baby.”

Baby. Only one person would be calling you that. 

Your name. That’s the way he says your name. You hear it. 

“Din?” There’s tears in the back of your throat, but you refuse to let them fall. 

He’s here, in front of you, hugging you to his chest. You’re actually clinging to him, you can feel the leather beneath your fingertips and smell the powder and sweat on him.

It’s him. He’s alive. You both are. 

“We need to go.” Sirens sound off in the distance. 

You never ran so fast in your life. 

The entire ride back you’re in a daze, replaying those fatal moments over and over until your hands start to shake. Din notices and places his hand on your knee, rubbing soothing circles; it helps a little. 

You could’ve died. He could’ve died. It was the first time you were ever caught in a gunfight, been so close at death's door, and yet…

And yet as terrified as you were, there was also a thrill to it; a different kind of excitement you never felt before, a feral type that makes you push Din right up the garage doors of the warehouse as soon as they close. 

He stumbles against the door, caught off guard by your sudden attack. You kiss him before he opens his mouth, your hands already desperately fumbling with his belt. Once it’s off you attach your lips to his neck, biting and sucking the taunt skin, while unzipping his pants; he’s already half hard. 

He grabs a handful of your ass, moaning into the kiss when your hands touch the bare skin of his lower abdomen. When you caress the soft, velvet skin of his cock, he buckles in your grip. 

“I’m gonna do what I said I would do,” you tell him as you get down on your knees, face to face with his leaking red tip. 

You don’t give him the chance to react, darting your tongue out to lick around the head of him before taking him completely in your mouth, moaning at the salty taste and sliding down until he’s hitting the back of your throat with a gag from you. 

His hips jerk without hesitance with a pained whine, making you choke around him. You have to unlock your jaw wider to make it comfortable for you. He fists your hair and keeps you still. 

“Makerfuck pretty girl,” he groans deeply. “G-give me a warning next time.”

You hum, swirling your tongue along the veins of his thick girth. He lets you set the pace then and you pull him out for an intake of air, fisting and pumping your spit and his precum as lubricant. 

“Can never get enough of this,” he pants, already tensing beneath your hands. “Seeing you on your knees for daddy. Fuck I wish you could see yourself right now.”

His breaths become ragged when you take him back in your mouth, this time fisting what you can’t fit and pumping him at a furious pace in tune with your mouth; you let your teeth scrape gently on the underside of the head.

“Hmm that’s it,” he hums. When you briefly look up, he has his head thrown back. “Keep going babygirl.”

The sounds you’re making is beyond obscene, and you’re well aware that anyone can just walk in at any given moment and become witness to this, but here’s the thing: you don’t care. If anything, it makes you suck him harder just to get more out of him. 

“So good for me,” he sighs, now taking back control and thrusting shallowly. The sting of his tug adds to the growing pressure in your pussy. 

You know he’s not going to last long by the way his breathing picks up and his thighs shake and tense; you dig your nails into the skin, and he whimpers, fucking whimpers. 

“A-almost there sweet girl, cover it—yes just like that, beautiful, fuck. Keep going—mhmm.”

His moans get deeper with every slosh of your mouth and hand moving rapidly on his dick. The ache in your pussy is almost unbearable to ignore, but right now you want to make this about his pleasure; you want to be the one in control, bringing him to the same levels of euphoria he brings you and more, to hear those whimpers and growls directed at you. 

A few more sucks and he’s twitching in your mouth, groaning a symphony of curses and praises. 

“Fuck I’m gonna c-cum, go-gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up, and you better swallow every drop, princess.”

Oh that’s got you gushing in your panties. You whimper, spit and drool trailing down your chin and the length of him, and slip your hand to his balls, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze.

“Shit, I’m—“ he chokes, neck going red and he cums like a bomb, instantly filling your mouth with his salty essence until there’s droplets of that dripping from the corners of your mouth. 

You let him sit in your mouth until he comes to, enjoying the taste of him. He pulls your head back and doesn’t give you the chance for you to even catch your breath before he’s bending over and stealing it away with a dirty kiss; he moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and laps at the remnants of his cum. 

“Thank you.” He whispers. 

You help him put himself away and pull his pants up. You’re able to steal one more kiss before he’s dragging you out of the garage. 

***

It’s been gnawing at you since the thought of leaving was implanted in your brain. The thought of leaving and living a life of your own without depending on anyone to achieve it. 

It’s never bothered you before. You always left, no problems, no aches or regrets. But this one. This one was going to rip your heart out and stomp it to the ground until it could no longer beat. 

The other night doesn’t help, either. 

You want Din by your side. The thought of leaving him or worse hurts, really fucking hurts, and in the months of your trysts and smoke sessions and partnership and late night talks and that awful moment that you thought you lost him, you realized that you were falling in love with him. 

When he told you about the loss of his parents, you fell in love with him. The fact that he trusted you enough to show you that part of his past made your heart beat funny in a good way. 

“The Guild quickly found me after,” he explained, your body entwined under his sheets. “Hans was the one who found me, actually, and just so happened to reside here. Taught me basically everything I know. Greef came in not that long ago, and I brought Omera in just a few months before you showed up.”

You rubbed your hand up and down his chest, tracing the light, faint scars that scattered. 

“So I feel like I owe them, you know?” He continued, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back. “Because if it weren’t for them, I’d probably be dead by now.”

You froze. You didn’t like that. Ever since that night with the assassin, you didn’t like to think or so much as hear anything about Din’s death. 

He must have noticed your sudden shift because he lifted your chin up gently and pouted. “And if it weren’t for them, I probably would have never met you, either.”

It did make you feel better and you appreciated the change. You hugged him impossibly tighter to you, feeling his heart skip a beat beneath your ear. 

“I’m glad I met you,” you said into his chest. 

He sighed, a happy one. “Me too.”

And followed by his fears, insecurities, hobbies and passions, it grew. 

When he first held your hand as he ate you out, that love grew even larger. When he started to make sure you took care of yourself and vice versa, and never missed a chance at making you smile, you were absolutely fucked. 

You’re terrified, obviously. It’s not like you’re in an actual relationship per say, at least, if you are—which you have quarrels with, of course—then it’s unspoken; you couldn’t be angry if he didn’t want to leave. 

You just… want to feel that same type of freedom you felt that night. Build a life off of it. Although at this point, you just want any life with him. 

So you’re going to tell him. Now. In your room, where he’s lying right across from you, naked as the day he was born, on your bed with his hands behind his head. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tilting his head down to look at you. “I know somethings been bothering you all day.”

You sigh through your nose, pulling your sheets further up your chest. 

It’s now or never. 

“We should just… go,” you finally push out. “Like, ‘leave this place and don’t look back’ type of deal. Just drive off and create a new life for ourselves.”

A breath. 

Silence. 

It’s so fucking quiet you could hear a pin drop. His expression is unreadable, and you’ve gotten good at being able to read him since the half year went by. It’s too much already, making your chest ache and stomach pull in knots. You can’t take another second of silence. 

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” you quickly backtrack, reaching for your clothes when his hand reaches out to stop you. 

“Are you serious?” He demands. “W-why?”

He’s going to say no. You just fucked this all up. 

You shrug your shoulders absentmindedly; he can see straight through your bullshit, anyway. 

“I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life,” you explain quietly, just enough for him to hear. “It’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. I… never intended to stay this long in the first place, you know that. And I know that you feel like you owe them but you don’t, Din.” You take his hand in your lap; he’s listening intently. “I’m not… I’m not forcing you to go. I’m not telling. I’m asking.” God you hope you don’t start losing it. “And if you don’t want to then… then we’ll figure it out. Or something…”

You’re too afraid to look at him. You’ve never felt so open and vulnerable like this before. It was foreign, alien to you and Din as well, you’re sure, so to say that you don’t expect him to roughly palm your cheeks between his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow is a bit of an understatement. 

“Yes,” He whispers against your lips. “Yes.”

You’re bursting. A smile so wide spreads across your lips and you’re laughing and tackling him on the bed, rolling around on the sheets as your lips clash clumsily. 

“We’ll leave as soon as I make the credits,” he pecks your lips once, four times before you stop him.

“I have enough, and why wait?” You’re buzzed off the adrenaline, the knowledge that the man you’ve come to love is here in your arms, mirroring your smile with the wide, toothy one that you adore. 

He laughs, his chest vibrating against yours with it. “Okay.” He trails the tip of his finger down the slope of your nose. “Let’s go.”

You don’t pack much, it’s not like you had a lot to begin with, and it’s easier travelling light when you have no real direction in mind. You both agree to take your car rather than the bike for obvious reasons and it makes you feel guilty; you also feel guilty by not saying a proper goodbye to Jem and Omera. 

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, sticking the keys into the ignition. “I’ll get another one.” He winks at you and you laugh, all bubbly and loud. 

Din puts the car in reverse and backs out of the garage in a hurry, not wanting to waste another precious moment. You wave goodbye at the building as it disappears behind you; you’ll miss the people, even that Cara Dune they stopped by for weapons or to see Din; they had a history, he told you once, and were just good friends. 

“I left them a note,” Din suddenly says. “I knew you also wanted to say goodbye.”

You love him. You swear you love him more than anything in this galaxy. 

You palm the back of his neck and rub, showing your appreciation. He grins and leans his head to the left, sighing pleasantly. The hood is down on the car, the air whipping around you with the city disappearing behind you. 

You don’t find any traces of regret within you. This feels too good for it to be wrong. 

He drives and drives for hours until you have to stop at a motel. It’s old and rundown, but it’ll do. Your room is on the first floor, which is best for the few cars that are scattered in the parking lot.

You’re on each other as soon as the door closes. 

“Look at you,” Din marvels at your pussy from the end of the bed. 

Your hips squirm under his arm, laid out across your lower stomach to hold you down; your clothes are thrown all over the room and you're completely bare to him, spread out like a meal for his taking. “I’ve barely even touched you, pretty girl.”

“Please,” your body is littered in bruises and bite marks, wired and ready to snap at any moment. “Just do something.”

He nips at your inner thigh in retaliation, caressing your leg and throwing it over his broad shoulder. 

“What?” He croons. “What do you want daddy to do?” 

“E-eat me out,” you plead. “Wanna f-feel your mouth on my pussy, daddy.”

That pleases him. “Alright princess, I got you.”

He’s been teasing you relentlessly since you’ve checked in, high off the newfound freedom you both found in each other. The sheets are scratchy and the tv barely shows a decent channel, and you’re pretty sure that the bathroom is in even worse shape, but this is everything. 

“Yes!” You keen. 

He licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to curl under the hood. “Oh my—mhmm.”

His nose brushes against your clit as his tongue ventures back down, licking and sucking in between your folds. The hot, slippery and textured organ pushes in and out of your entrance, tongue fucking you with an eagerness of a man starved. 

Your mind starts to roll over in the pleasure induced haze and the coil in your stomach starts to tighten under his ministrations. He hums at the taste of you and practically envelopes your entire pussy in his mouth and sucks. Hard. 

Your hips jerk, being pushed down as soon as they move. 

“Din,” you whine, burying your fingers in his curls and tugging, earning a deep groan from the man devouring your pussy. He follows your guidance—he really loves it when you pull on his hair—and wraps his lips around your pulsing clit, sucking with audible slurps. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching your back the best you can. “F-fingers.”

He obliges without having to be told a second time, pushing your legs up slightly higher and sliding two thick fingers inside your fluttering cunt and scissoring them immediately. You whine and wither, it’s so much and not enough and you’re going crazy. 

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He coos mockingly. “Is it here,” he stretches you wider. You mutter a breathless, “No.” “Here?” He motions teasingly right next to the spot that shoots bolts up your body. A small tear trinkles down the corner of your eye in frustration. “My poor baby is desperate, isn’t she?” 

Under any other circumstances, if you weren’t so wrecked, you’d make a snotty comment to rile him up; it’s a whole other feeling when he fucks you like a wild animal, but you’ve been so desperate the moment you drove off that you continue to whine and beg him. 

“I’m begging daddy,” you cry. “Please please I wanna cum on your mouth.”

He finally hits your sweet spot, curling and bumping against it until you're very close to screaming and your legs start to shake.

“Oh Maker I’m gonna—“ your entire lower half starts to tremble. When you look back down to meet his eyes, they’re closed and lost in his own pleasure, sucking harshly around your clit and scraping his teeth gently across the hood. 

Din pulls back with a gulp of air before hoarsely saying, “Cum.” 

He dives back in with a vigor and within five strokes of his fingers and tongue, your pussy clenches around his digits like a vice. 

“Yesyesyesyes FUCK!” 

It feels like you’re practically drowning with the man with the gushing feeling pooling from your core. He continues to eat you out, drinks the juices you give him with ease. 

It’s too much. You keep pushing against his head but he growls and latches on to you tighter, sucking and fucking you even harder than before. 

“S-st-stop,” you muster through the onslaught. “D-Din, Beskar!”

He stops at the safeword and with his chin glistening brightly in the dim light, teeth shining behind it like a wolf stalking its prey, you feel another short wave tingle through you; your body is flushed and spent, but you open your arms to him, welcome his just as equally bare body on yours, moan at the sweet taste of yourself on his mouth.

You feel the bulbous head of him at your entrance and with a nod from you, he pushes in in one smooth thrust; with his spit and your orgasm combined, he slides in with liquid ease and a wet, loud slosh of the mixed fluids he pushes through.

He swallows your whimper and settles himself to the brim inside you, the curls of his hair scraping against your pubic mound and his balls sitting comfortably on the base of your ass. 

“I know, baby,” he coos softly. He runs his hand over your breast, twisting the hard, perked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hips buckle into his, making you both moan and close your eyes. 

“C-can I move?” He grits between his teeth.

“Yes.” You wrap your legs around his waist. 

He pulls out almost completely and thrusts back in without hesitance. The thrust is so hard that it pushes you up the bed. 

“You’re already squeezing the fuck outta me girl,” he pants, holding himself above you. You grip onto his biceps and feel your cunt spasm around him again; you’re still very sensitive from the previous orgasm and it hurts in the best way possible. 

“I ca—“ it’s so hard to think and talk and even breathe with his deliciously thick cock pounding into you with abundance. 

He moans and somehow goes even harder and faster than before, the slaps of his hips against yours so fucking loud that you can’t barely hear the cars outside anymore. 

“Gonna cum again?” He snarls. You nod weakly. “Fuck babygirl this pussy was meant for me, so good to me.”

A bead of sweat falls from his slick body and on your top lip; you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him down to you, licking the sweat off his neck. You bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him grunt and his cock twitch inside you. 

“Harder,” you gasp in his ear. 

He groans and anchors himself by gripping onto the headboard tightly, slightly stopping the bed from banging against the wall like it has been for the past five minutes—you’ll be surprised if you don’t already receive a noise complaint. 

Your lower stomach tightens again as your orgasm approaches and you can tell he isn’t far behind from you. “I’m gonna cum daddy,” you whimper into the air, head thrown back against the pillow. “C-can I?”

He plows into you like he’s never felt the walls of a pussy before and shifts his hips a little to the left. The reaction is instant. 

“Oh Maker yes, keeping fucking me, right there.” The words are so ragged and broken. 

“Cum all over me,” he demands gruffly, deep from within his chest, staring down at his meal and boasting. He wraps his hand around your neck and squeezes gently at first until you nod, and then more pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Make daddy cum. C’mon pretty girl, sweet, sweet girl, please.” 

The combinations of his cock, hand, and the whimpered please that just left him do you in. You open your mouth but nothing comes out and the only thing you can feel is your cunt spasming around him, sucking him in when he pulls out; your whole self is lost in euphoria, but you can register his hips slamming sloppily into yours and the pitches whines that are tearing from his throat. 

“Oh fuck fuck.”

He’s about to pull out. You’re not on the implant, it’s something you’ve been meaning to take care of, but this time… this time you don’t want him to. You want to feel all of him in this new light, have another part of him within you. 

“No!” You clutch onto his neck as he reaches down in between your legs. He pushes himself up in shock but he takes you with him and now you’re seated fully on him—is it possible to feel this full and sore and complete at the same time?—as he sits back on his heels, staring at you in a mix of confusion and pain. You immediately feel guilty.

“You can—you can cum in me i-if you’re comfortable with it,” you stammer breathlessly, brushing the curls out of his face. 

Din stares at you in complete wonder, panting and holding your waist in a tight grip that’s slightly painful but you know he’s struggling to hold on right now, so you don’t really blame him for it. 

You’re starting to think you went too far. This is intimate; it’s a mark, it’s trust and security.

Suddenly he gives you a few, hard thrusts and he’s choking on a whimper, filling your stuffed pussy; it feels odd, but it feels just as good for you as well, especially when you see the blissed out look on his face, and you can already feel his cum and yours leaking from you and on to the sheets. 

You’re too weak to hold yourself up anymore, so you lay your upper half on the bed while the lower stays connected to his. His hands run up and down your body, soothing the hot, slick skin while he continues to stare at you; those eyes are so intense that it’s hard to return it without feeling like you’re being consumed. 

The only sounds in the room are your breaths. He lays his head down on your pelvis, gripping your hips in the same way the bruises show.

“Can I stay?” He eventually asks. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Inside you,” He clarifies, almost nervously. 

You nod, too tired to move or speak, so he adjusts the both of you back to the pillows; he apologizes when you wince or hiss, laying you on your side so that you’re comfortable. 

Din outlines the contours of your face as your eyes close, a barely there touch that tickles you but you make no moves to stop him. 

He mumbles something but you can barely register what he’s saying, lost in the colors behind your eyelids. 

There’s a soft, wet press on the top of your head before you disappear into your dreams. 

***

It’s hard to keep a low profile with the way you two are going, and without the protection of the Guild anymore, the law is after you more than ever.

That doesn’t stop either one of you. 

Nor does it strip the joy of the life you have with him. 

It’s not always easy for the most part, but you still can’t find any particle of regret in you, or in him. It’s like you were meant for this—doing whatever the fuck you want, when you want, with your partner, in so many ways now, standing by you.   

The sun is setting in the seering desert, the lines of a heat wave outlining it beautifully. The hood of your car is down, sunglasses on and Din.

Well Din is riding right next to you on his brand new bike, laughing and smiling with you. The cops are long gone now, lost in the trail of dust you left behind.

The whole chase was exhilarating, to say the least.

A new days version of Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what one of the papers called you. And no doubt, there was someone from the Guild coming after you for the hefty bounty that’s been placed on your heads. 

“Let them come,” Din says now as you sit on the hood of your car, watching the earth settle into the shadows of the night on the side of the desert, barren road. He runs his hand soothingly on your head, scratching the scalp lightly much to your delight; you can fall asleep right here in his arms like this. “We can take them.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I just can’t help but feel like… like—” You can’t finish. 

“Look,” he sits up a little. “I don’t regret this. I don’t. I’ve never felt this happy in years and it’s because I’m with you. I’m experiencing this new life with you and that’s all I want. We’re fine, more than fine, and I have no problems reminding you for the rest of my days if that’s what it takes.”

He seems to always know what’s going through your mind and exactly what you need to hear to soothe it. 

“Thank you.”

He gives your ass a squeeze. You snort and settle closer to his side. “I’m sure my parents are horrified right now.”

You don’t know where that suddenly comes from. 

He shifts and you feel him look down at you, but doesn’t push you away. “Do you want to call them?”

It’s a dumb thing to do and he knows that, but you appreciate what he’s trying to do. 

“No,” you sigh. “Can’t.”

“Hey,” he lifts your chin to look at him; the sun makes him look like a God. “You still got me, alright? Until the end.”

You kiss him. You try to pour all the words unspoken into it, all the love that’s filled your mind and body and soul.

He reminds you at the nearest motel around. This time, he takes his time with you, explores with more depth; no rush, no interruptions. 

It’s soft, the way he cradles you gently and rocks into you. It’s caring, when he kisses you languidly and grinds his pelvis against yours, brushing delicately against your clit. Understanding, when he shushes you quietly. Stability, as he’s holding you close to him, your lips not even moving away from the other. 

It’s love. 

It’s love in the way your heart calls to him. The way you feel so safe and secure with him, knowing that no matter what happens, he’s the only person who will ever have your back in this shitty world. 

It’s love by the way you no longer feel like you’re trying to find pieces of yourself. In being with him, you’ve come to realize that you’re whole now; you’re not searching anymore, you’ve found everything you need right here in him—in the Target Practice Din Djarin, Clyde to your Bonnie, whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

And you tell him that, in hushed whispers. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.”

Your heart bursts when he says it back. “And I love you. More than my own life.”

You giggle, just out of sheer joy and because you can and he joins you in equal pitch and giddiness. 

His thrusts stay slow and languid, a contrast to your usual roughness, but it’s perfect for the way you’re pouring your heart out to him, as he is to you, in ways old and new. 

“I’m yours,” he breathes on your lips as your core flutters around him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You won’t. You never will. 

“And I’m yours,” you seal this in a hard clench of your pussy and revel in the way his eyes roll in the back of his head. 

There’s no telling where you begin and he ends. It’s astronomical the way he seems to fit against you, in you, so perfectly, as if you really are a match made in Heaven. Or Hell. Or, you know, wherever you go after this life. 

When he comes inside you, shivering in your arms with his adorably scrunched up face, you vow that, even if they end up catching up to you in the end, you’ll never leave him unless he asks you. You’ll fight through tooth and nail, and you almost want someone to even try it; they’re trying, and they’ll keep trying until they get their prize. 

There’ll never be anyone like him in this entire galaxy. 

And if he goes down, you go down with him. 

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[yeah-klave]

The Sexual Awakening of David Joseph Katz - Chapter 8

Link to Chapter 1 || Link to Chapter 2 || Link to Chapter 3 || Link to Chapter 4 || Link to Chapter 5  ||  Link to Chapter 6 ||  Link to Chapter 7

Series summary:  A multi-chapter journey of self-discovery and sexual awakening.

Chapter summary: Dave tries something new.

Genre: Developing relationship, smut. (18+ only, please)

A/N: This is set in a nothing-too-bad-happens modern AU. The characters are all in their early twenties (I’m picturing adult!actor versions of them and Dave as a (younger) Cody Ray Thompson). The siblings are all still living at home, relatively happily, and Dave, Lila, Sissy and Carl are friends who hang out with them at the Academy.

Word length: 5.2k

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

*******************************************************

It was the weekend. Klaus and Dave had spent the day hanging out with Diego, Ben and Luther.

They’d driven out of the city to a hiking trail and explored for a bit, then set themselves up on a rickety jetty to do some fishing in a nearby lake.

Ben had rolled his eyes at Diego and Luther’s competitive sniping, but all three had ended up blaming Klaus for scaring away all the fish after he got board of sitting quietly and decided to dip his toes in the water and attempt to splash the serious look of concentration off Dave’s face. He succeeded.

Nobody ended up catching any fish.

In the afternoon, they returned to the Academy to chill and – at Dave’s insistence – have a Star Wars movie marathon.

At one point, Five wandered through the living room. He paused to roll his eyes fondly at the slouching heap of limbs they had become, before heading off in the direction of the bar. They heard clinking, them a few moments later he wandered back out, distractedly muttering something about quantum mechanics and clutching a Margarita topped with a little blue cocktail umbrella.

At some point during the second movie, Ben extracted himself and wandered off to a quiet nook to do a little reading and, shortly afterwards, Luther left to go pick up Allison from the mall, where she’d been shopping with some girlfriends.

Bored again from too much sitting, Klaus had come up with a game that involved passing random objects between them without letting them touch the floor, using only their feet.

With the movie still playing in the background, they’d been passing Dave’s balled-up hoodie between them for a solid twenty minutes when Diego’s phone pinged and he missed the pass from Klaus, letting the hoodie fall to the floor.

“Dude!” Klaus exclaimed, hands raised.

Diego shrugged and checked his phone.

“It’s Lila inviting me over,” he said. “Her roommate’s out of town.”

“Booty call,” Klaus grinned, winking at Diego and conspiratorially nudging Dave with his elbow. “Sounds like you’re in there, bro.”

Diego grimaced back. “More like, she’s bored of being on her own without anyone to tease, so she’s calling sparring partners to her.”

“If that really was the case,” Dave said, “and all she wanted was an argument, she’d just text Carl.”

“Ha! True!” Klaus barked a laugh. “He’d definitely take the bait. He’s been in such a pissy mood recently.” Klaus made a lewd gesture, “I don’t think he’s getting any from Sissy.”

“I don’t think you can blame Sissy for Carl’s foul mood,” Dave added sagely.

“Definitely not!” Klaus said, “it’s not her fault her boyfriend’s a prick.”

“To be fair,” Diego cut in, “she’s been pretty busy recently with that volunteering group she and Vanya signed up for. You know, the one with the music therapy for autistic kids.”

Klaus and Dave shared a glance and Dave had to duck his head quickly to hide his smile.

“Yeah,” Klaus said slowly, “Sissy and Vanya have been busy with the… volunteering. Recently, in particular, they’ve both got very… busy. Together.”

Engrossed in his phone, Diego didn’t notice the knowing grin that passed between Klaus and Dave.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Diego mused, “maybe it gives her too much power. Coming when she calls, I mean. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“Don’t you mean get the right idea?” Klaus smirked.

“Shut up,” Diego scowled, “I’m not her lap dog.”

Klaus caught Dave’s gaze and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, these Straights,” he said with a mock exasperated sigh, “they have such complicated relationships.” He turned to Diego and levelled him a challenging look. “Seriously, brother mine, you need to let that girl peg the toxic masculinity right out of you. You might have a clearer perspective on the whole thing after you’ve let her fuck you ‘till your true bratty bottom personality starts showing. I bet you’d find it quite liberating to let her watch you shake apart while your ankles are in the air and your knees are up by your ears.”

Diego let out a strangled choking sound.

“But if you’re too much of a sissy to let a woman top you,” Klaus added, “I’d highly recommend levelling up and finding a nice guy to fuck you instead. Tits are nice and all that – but you just can’t beat a big, hard dick. So go find yourself one of them. Just not the one attached to him,” Klaus winked at Dave, “because that one’s spoken for.”

Dave grinned fondly, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t even know where to start with that,” Diego said with a grimace.

“Well,” Dave said evenly, “personally, I’d recommend starting with a bit of dry humping. Then, when you finally get your hands around it, you can start working it properly. Maybe fondle the balls a bit.”

“Dave!” Diego said shocked. “That’s… you… don’t say things like that.” He looked between Klaus and Dave, scandalised. “He’s having a bad effect on you, Dave.”

“He’s had an effect alright,” Dave said, catching Klaus’ eye, “a big, prominent, pointed effect.”

“Seriously, dude,” Diego grimaced, “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Oh, quit whining,” Klaus chuckled. “We all know you ship us hard.”

“So hard,” Dave added.

“So, very, very hard.” Klaus giggled. “As hard as we make each other.”

“Oh, dear god!” Diego cringed, covering his ears with his hands. “Mental images! Forcing their way into my brain. Cannot un-think!”

Klaus and Dave both laughed.

“Well, on that note, I’m off.” Diego patted himself down checking for his keys and started towards the door. “I’d rather be at Lila’s beck and call than listen to anymore of this. You reprobates stay safe now. And for God’s sake, don’t cum on anything, please!”

“Don’t worry,” Klaus called after him. “We swallow.”

“La-la-la! NOT LISTENING!” Diego called back, hands over his ears again as he left, the front door to the Academy clicking shut behind him.

Klaus caught Dave’s eye and Dave raised an eyebrow and asked simply, “So, shall we?”

And Klaus barked a laugh. “Hell, yes!” he said, pulling Dave to his feet.

They ran upstairs and stumbled down the corridor to Klaus’ room, laughing and kissing and fumbling, hands pulling off clothes and blindly knocking into furniture in their haste.

“Diego’s really going to appreciate the trail of discarded clothing leading to your room,” Dave smiled, glancing over Klaus’ shoulder.

“Don’t care,” Klaus breathed, his lips pressing kisses along Dave’s jaw. “To be honest, Grace will probably pick it all up before he sees anyway.” Dave’s eyes widened in panic, but Klaus took the lobe of Dave’s ear into his mouth and sucked, and Dave’s mind blanked. He shivered and Klaus grinned, grazing his teeth along the flesh.

The door to Klaus’ room was barely shut behind them before Klaus was sinking to his knees in front of Dave, hands scrambling to unbuckle his pants.

Dave rested his head back against the door and allowed Klaus to pull his pants and boxers down, but before Dave had chance to step out of them, Klaus was leaning forwards eagerly and taking Dave into his mouth.

Dave groaned, long and low, both his hands going to Klaus’ head, fingers carding through the unruly curls, fingernails raking slowly and seductively along the scalp. He then tugged gently, in just the way he knew Klaus loved and Klaus hummed in delight. The vibrations sent a wave of pleasure through Dave and he sighed out Klaus’ name. Klaus hummed again, then started sucking and bobbing his head in earnest, his hands steadying Dave’s hips.

Dave closed his eyes and let the feelings overtake him. Klaus was setting a delicious rhythm, with just the right level of suction. His mouth was hot and wet and perfect. Dave could feel Klaus breathe out as he relaxed his throat and took Dave down deeper.

“Oh, Klaus…” Dave moaned, gently tugging on his hair again. “That’s so good.”

Klaus hummed again and, fighting the impulse to gag, took him down ever further.

“Oh, yes!” Dave sighed. “Oh Klaus, your mouth feels so good.” His brain fuzzy, the praises spilled off his lips, “Yes, oh you’re so good at that. It feels amazing. You feel amazing. You’re amazing.” Dave could feel the pressure building, the knot tightening. Klaus kept bobbing and sucking. “Oh yes, there, like that. Klaus! Oh yes, yes.”

 Dave twitched his hips slightly and Klaus gave an almost imperceptible nod and squeezed his fingers, signalling that Dave could thrust forwards. Dave let out a strangled little sound and – ever so gently – started fucking Klaus’ mouth. Klaus moaned, his pupil’s blown and his chin wet.

Dave let out a low grunt and concentrated on the feeling of the tiny thrusts of his hips – the raw, decadent pleasure of pushing his cock into his partner’s willing mouth. The slightly strangled moans coming from Klaus were needy and wanton and desperate. The act felt so… base. So… primal. To Dave, it felt… unimaginably good.

Dave savoured the feeling, storing it away to be examined and replayed at another time, another place.

Klaus squeezed Dave’s hips again and then took him all the way down into his throat, swallowed, then hummed. And Dave felt the vibrations rumble through him in a heady wave. His fingers twitched and his hips bucked involuntarily.

Klaus chocked. Just a little. “Sorry, sorry,” Dave said, contrite. He only felt slightly guilty for the sudden rush that had surged through him at the sight and sound of Klaus choking on his cock.

Klaus hummed in response, picking up the pace of his bobbing, cheeks hollowed and his tongue working the underside. His thumb ran soothingly over Dave’s hipbone and even in his state of fuggy pleasure, Dave knew it was a sign of reassurance.

Half out of his mind with pleasure, Dave looked down and took in the sight of Klaus; cheeks hollowed, his lips stretched wide around Dave’s cock, the gentle sway of his wild curls as he bobbed his head. His eyelashes were dark fans over eyelids heavy from desire. Dave felt a proprietary surge of pleasure as he noticed the beginnings of dark streaks on the pale, delicate skin under Klaus’ bottom lashes, where the slight wetness around his eyes had caused his eyeliner to run.

Dave gave another low groan. He could feel himself tensing, his pleasure cresting. “Klaus!” he managed to grunt.

 Klaus pulled back and off with a wet pop, a line of saliva still connecting them. He began fisting Dave’s length. He opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue and rested Dave’s tip on the wet, pink muscle. He looked up: open and willing and eager. Ready to be claimed, though Dave.

Eyelids heavy and eyes dark with lust, Klaus gazed up at Dave through his lashes. And, staring down into Klaus’ eyes, Dave’s pleasure crested and his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal surge. He came undone, pulsing and releasing, thick creamy ropes of cum landing over Klaus’ tongue and his lips and his chin and his cheek. Klaus closed his eyes and took it, hand still working Dave’s shaft, helping him ride out his high. And Dave just kept cumming, all over his boyfriend’s face and tongue and a bit in his hair. And it felt so dirty, but also so brilliant. And his brain thrummed: mine, mine, mine…

Dave’s cock gave a final weak pulse and Klaus licked the small trickle of cum off the tip.

Dave looked down and blushed at the sight of Klaus on his knees before him, his cheeks flushed, chin wet, face splattered with cum and his hair sticking up wildly from where Dave had been gripping the dark curls.

“Oh, Klaus” he whispered reverently. And Klaus smiled and gently kissed the tip of Dave’s cock one last time before getting to his feet.

Dave’s thumb came up to Klaus’ bottom lip and smeared a spot of cum across the skin. Klaus’ tongue came out to taste it, but Dave leaned forwards quickly and caught Klaus’ lips in a kiss, tasting himself on Klaus’ skin and in the slow slide of their lips and tongues.

“So, I guess we didn’t do what Diego asked after all,” Dave smiled.

“Pretty sure he meant the sofas, or in the kitchen or something,” Klaus grinned. “I don’t think it counts if the thing you’re cumming on is me.” Dave groaned again. Then reached blindly, grabbed his discarded tee and lightly wiped the mess off Klaus’ face. Then he brought their faces close until the tips of their noses were touching and brushed them together in an Eskimo kiss.

Dave stepped forwards, trying to walk Klaus back to the bed but, forgetting about his pants still pooled around his ankles, he almost overbalanced. Klaus laughed and held his arms steady while Dave toed off his boots and socks and stepped out of his jeans. Klaus’ pants had been abandoned somewhere on the trip from the living room to Klaus’ bedroom.

Dave gently placed his hands on Klaus’ immaculate chest and walked him back to the bed, softly pushing him down onto his back. Klaus shuffled backwards, laying his head on the pillow. He was toned and sun-golden and glorious, his erection a prominent bulge tenting his underwear. He’s gorgeous, Dave thought. Completely gorgeous and all mine. And a thrill ran through him.

Dave got onto the bed and pulled Klaus’ underwear off. And then Klaus was spread out before him: standing big and stiff and proud. A meal Dave wanted to both devour all at once… and also savour for the rest of his life.

Dave crawled over Klaus, propping himself up on his forearms so he could bring their lips together again. Klaus sighed and ran one hand down Dave’s spine, resting the other on his backside and squeezing.

“Ass man,” Dave breathed into Klaus’ mouth.

“Bite me,” Klaus smiled back, and Dave caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nipped lightly. Klaus groaned and pushed his hips up against Dave.

Dave grinned and rolled them over. He slotted his leg between Klaus’, presenting his thigh for Klaus to ride. Klaus propped himself up on his arms and pushed his hips down, grinding his erection into Dave’s deliciously solid thigh. He breathed out a sigh and leaned down to continue their kiss, his hips pressing forwards rhythmically. Dave pushed his tongue into Klaus’ mouth and let the kiss get dirty, his hands kneading Klaus’ ass cheeks as Klaus humped his leg. The room was filled with the sound of Klaus panting and grunting and the dull thunk of the headboard against the wall as Klaus increased the pace and vigour of his rutting.

“Look at you,” Dave breathed, eyeing Klaus’ slack mouth and flushed cheeks, “just look at you. So beautiful.”

“Dave,” Klaus gritted out.

“Oh, is there something you need, sweetheart?” Dave teased.

“Yes,” Klaus panted, a little frustrated and desperate to get off.

Dave raised an eyebrow but made no other attempt to move.

“Oh,” Klaus whined, “Dav-uh!”

Dave grinned wickedly, “Maybe you should ask nicely?”

Klaus’ eyes went wide. For a heart stopping moment, Dave thought he might have gone too far, might have misread the vibe, might have killed the moment.

But then Klaus flushed, blinking rapidly, and whispered, “Dave, please.” Dave squeezed his ass cheeks again and Klaus whined and clamped his thighs around Dave’s leg, grinding his erection down harder. “Please,” he repeated in a small, broken voice, “please do something to get me off.” He brought his lips to Dave’s ear, so close Dave could feel his lips moving, and murmured, “please, Mr Katz…”

Dave swallowed hard. A rush of adrenaline, and also something else – something deeper and more primal – ran through him. He could feel the soft, warm weight of his partner, writhing and rutting against him. Needy and desperate. Needy, for him. Dave was suddenly overwhelmed by an instinctive, primal urge to give and please and protect and provide. Mine, Dave thought again. He’s mine.

Dave hooked his leg around Klaus’ and flipped them over. He pressed one final searing kiss to Klaus’ lips and then worked his way down Klaus’ body, trailing kisses down his neck and chest, his tongue flicking over the hardened nub of a nipple. He teasingly kissed his way down the faint trail of dark hairs that started just below his navel and ended at the base of Klaus’ cock.

Dave could feel Klaus breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling in anticipation. But rather than turning his attention to Klaus’ erection. Dave dipped his head lower, and pressed kisses and teasing licks into the delicate skin surrounding Klaus’ cock. He pressed his nose against Klaus’ balls, nuzzling them slightly, then opened his mouth and sucked as much as he could into his mouth, applying delicious pressure and working the skin with his tongue. Klaus whined above him. Dave repeated the action, then moved onto the other.

“Dave,” Klaus panted. “Dave, please.”

A thought started buzzing in Dave’s brain. It felt electric – live and shocking.

Without quite realising he’d done it, Dave made a decision. He felt wired and alive and empowered.

Dave smiled and rose onto his knees. His hands went to Klaus’ hips. “Roll over,” he said gently.

“What?” Klaus’ head came up, eyes slightly unfocussed.

“Come on,” Dave repeated quietly, “roll over.”

“Dave? What’re you…” Klaus looked confused.

“I want to try something,” Dave smiled. He felt a shy, nervous flutter in his stomach, but he swallowed, caught Klaus’ eye and gave a confident little nod.

Klaus held his gaze a moment, eyes wide, but then he obliged, rolling onto his front. Dave encouraged him to spread his legs and lift onto his knees and elbows. Dave sat back for a second and just took in the sight before him: his boyfriend bent over on his bed, flushed and hard and slightly bewildered, but presenting himself so beautifully for Dave. Dave licked his lips and smiled. He was going to enjoy this.

Klaus’ head hung between his arms and he craned around to look at Dave admiring him and – despite all his previous experience – he still felt a small spike of self-conscious embarrassment. He shifted and started to get up, “Dave, what’s… what’re you doing…?”

“Shhh,” Dave reassured, his hand rubbing soothing circles into Klaus’ lower back and encouraging him back down. “It’s okay. Just relax. I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”

Klaus narrowed his eyes slightly but relaxed back down.

Dave positioned himself between Klaus’ legs and ran his hands over Klaus’ ass cheeks, endearingly pale against the tan of the rest of his skin. He gave the right one a quick pat and squeeze. Lowering his head slowly, he pressed a gentle kiss into the soft, fleshy centre of each cheek. Then, using his thumbs, he spread the cheeks apart, finally revealing Klaus’ pink, furled hole.

“Dave…?” He heard Klaus choke out.

Dave blew a soft stream of warm air onto Klaus’ little rosebud and watched as it clenched slightly.

Then, leaning forwards, he brought his face in close and slowly licked across Klaus’ tight hole.

“Fuck!” He heard Klaus exclaim.

Dave smiled and, tongue soft and wet and wide, he repeated the action.

“Oh, Dave! Oh, fuck!” Klaus panted again.

Dave pointed his tongue and flicked it up and down, and left to right, brushing it quickly over the delicate skin. Dave could feel Klaus’ hole fluttering under his tongue.

“Dave! Oh god, yes, oh yes!” Klaus panted. He shifted his hips and repositioned his arm to take his weight. He brought the other hand down to his cock, which was hanging thick and heavy and neglected between his legs. But before he could take hold of it, however, Dave caught his wrist and stopped him.

“Not yet,” he said. And his face was still so close to Klaus’ most private area that Klaus could feel the huff of air against his wet skin when Dave spoke.

Klaus shivered and groaned, but brought his elbow back down to the bed, resigning himself to the sweet torture.

Dave reapplied his tongue to Klaus’ hole and soon Klaus was panting and sighing and pushing back against him, needy whines and breathy little gasps escaping his throat.

Dave switched up the movement of his tongue from strong licks and fast little flicks, and instead covered Klaus’ hole with his lips and then sucked lightly.

Klaus groaned under him, pushing back, his legs trembling. “Oh, fuuuuuck!” he whimpered.

Dave gave the furled hole another slow lick, then pointed his tongue and – ever so slowly – pushed it against Klaus’ entrance. Klaus’ breath hitched. At first Klaus’ muscles resisted. But then, as Dave wiggled his tongue slightly, he felt the tight ring of muscles begin to relax, allowing him to push his tongue in slightly. Dave pressed his tongue forwards in tight circular motions, then slowly pulled back and pressed in again, fucking Klaus’ hole with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, fuuuuucck me!” Klaus wailed. “Fuck, Dave! Yes! Oh, fuck I need to cum!”

Dave could feel Klaus trembling under his hands, the erratic twitch of his hips, the desperate, broken edge to his voice.

“Please, Dave,” Klaus pleaded. “Please, please…”

And Dave, his face still buried in Klaus’ ass, finally reached around and gripped Klaus’ leaking erection and started pumping.

And Klaus keened. He was caught between thrusting his painfully hard cock forward into Dave’s fist and pressing back into the delicious wet flicks of Dave’s tongue against his quivering hole. He was so desperately, painfully hard; the desire to cum so strong. And the feeling of Dave finally touching his rock-hard cock was toe-curlingly amazing. And Dave’s tongue, pressing and licking and sucking him – there – was beyond amazing. And for Klaus, time seemed to be caught in one delicious, shining moment of wet, hot, hard, fast, urgent, pleasure, clenching, tensing… and then he was cumming. Hard.

Thick creamy ropes spurted onto the bed and over Dave’s fist and Dave could feel Klaus’ hole twitching and clenching under his tongue as his muscles spasmed in waves. And Klaus was moaning Dave’s name wildly… then breathlessly… then a little brokenly as his trembling legs gave way and he finally collapsed forwards onto the bed.

Dave moved up the bed and lay down on his side next to him. Carefully, he ran his fingers through Klaus’ hair, studying his face, his closed eyes, his blissed-out expression.

Klaus opened his eyes blearily and looked at Dave.

“Dave,” he whispered hoarsely. Dave smiled.

“Dave,” Klaus tried again, “That was just so… thank you. Just, wow! Like really. Wow. It was just… so…” he screwed up his face, trying to find the right words and failing, ending instead on just a low grunt of consonants. “Nngggh,” he finished.

Dave smiled, eyes fond and affectionate. “Well, if I’ve rendered you speechless, I guess it must have been okay,” he teased lightly. Klaus blinked. Dave brought his lips down and tenderly kissed Klaus’ forehead and whispered, “I’m glad you thought so. It felt pretty incredible to do it for you too.” Klaus hummed and his eyes drifted closed.

“Hey,” Dave squeezed his shoulder. “You should have a quick shower before you sleep.”

“Don’t wanna,” Klaus mumbled. “Tired and comfy and no energy.”

“Come on, up you get.” Dave encouraged. “You’re sticky and sweaty and smell like sex. You’re laying in the wet spot and you’ve got cum in your hair. Shower, now.”

Klaus groaned and with great effort pulled himself up and moved towards the bathroom.

“Aren’t you coming?” Klaus asked in a small voice.

“You get in, I’ll be there in a sec,” Dave said. Klaus nodded and padded off.

Dave quickly stripped the bed and put on clean sheets from the cupboard where Grace kept the fresh linen. He bundled the dirty ones up and stuffed then in the laundry basket. He then went into the bathroom to join Klaus.

When they were showered and dry, Klaus in a pair of fluorescent briefs and Dave wearing clean boxers and a soft old tee from the stash of clothes he’d started leaving at the Academy, they crawled into bed. Klaus cuddled up to him and rested his head on Dave’s chest.

“Good call,” Klaus admitted, running his hands over the crisp sheets.

Dave hummed in response. Klaus closed his eyes, listening to the rumble of it against his ear.

“So, power kink, huh?” Klaus smiled into Dave’s chest.

“I guess so,” Dave replied. “Believe me, it took me by surprise a bit too.”

“It was good,” Klaus said. “Different. It looked good on you.” Klaus paused, then added, “I like the idea that we can switch stuff up like that sometimes.”

“Me too,” Dave found himself agreeing.

“You know,” Klaus said tentatively, “we could go further too.”

Dave traced the rim of Klaus’ ear with a fingertip.

“Yeah,” Dave said, feeling bold in the gathering darkness of the room. “Give and take, assertive and submissive, top and bottom… there’s so much we can try together. And that’s just power stuff. Then there’s… well, everything else as well.” He felt Klaus hum his agreement into the skin over his heart.

“You know,” Klaus said after a pause, “when we talked about this the other day, I thought we were going to start with some light fingering. But I guess I shouldn’t have underestimated you, Mr Katz. You just dived straight in tongue first.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Dave asked a little worriedly.

“Fuck no!” Klaus exclaimed. “I just didn’t think we’d start with rimming. I mean it’s not really the natural place to start.”

“Isn’t it?” Dave frowned. “To me, it kind of just felt right in the moment.”

“I’m glad you did,” Klaus insisted, “it was mind-blowing.”

Dave grimaced. “Promise you’re not teasing my technique?” He asked. “It’s the first thing I’ve done to you before you’ve done it to me first. I didn’t have any previous experience to work from.”

There was silence and Dave frowned and shifted to look down at Klaus’ face. He was surprised to find Klaus’ cheeks pink and his ears a little red.

“Klaus?” he asked, worried.

“You weren’t bad.” Klaus said quickly. “It’s not that. It’s just that, for once, I don’t really have anything to compare to either.” His eyes widened. “Not that I usually compare you with other people,” he said quickly. “I don’t do that. Just, with this, I don’t have a point of reference. So, all I can say is you blew my mind.”

Dave took a moment to process and then asked the obvious question. “Are you saying none of the people you’ve been with before have done that for you?”

“Um… yeah,” Klaus blushed – actually blushed – “yeah, I guess I am.”

Dave swallowed. “Because they didn’t want to? Or because you didn’t want them to?” He swallowed again. “Did I… I hope I didn’t… Klaus, did you want me to do that just now?”

Klaus shifted to press his face into the hollow of Dave’s neck, his nose nuzzling the base of his throat. “Dave,” he said seriously, “I wanted it. I wanted you to.” He paused. “Before now… nobody ever offered. It wasn’t particularly something that was on my radar. I was just happy for them to fuck me. Just that was okay. I didn’t feel like I was missing out or anything. But then you just… did that for me. Because you wanted to. I’ve never been with anyone who put me first like that before.”

Dave’s heart clenched and his chest felt tight. He wrapped his arms around Klaus’ small frame and buried his nose into the curls on the top of his head.

“Klaus” he murmured, “Klaus…”

“It’s okay,” he heard Klaus sigh into his neck, “you don’t need to say anything.”

Dave swallowed the lump in his throat and tightened his arms around Klaus. The warm weight of words that didn’t need to be said just yet, lying like a blanket over them as they held each other in the gathering darkness.

Finally, Dave broke the silence, “I don’t know whether I should be a little bit offended, you know? About not being complicated, I mean.” He grinned.

“What?” Klaus frowned, opening his eyes.

“That thing you said to Diego earlier, about his dynamic with Lila being complicated.”

“Oh,” Klaus settled back down. “That.” He paused then added. “You might play the deep, strong, silent type sometimes, Dave, but you’re not complicated. I mean, not complicated complicated.” Dave ran his fingers soothingly up and down Klaus’ arm. “It’s not like do you confusing things that I can’t work out. You’re easy.”

Dave laughed.

“I don’t mean easy.” Klaus corrected himself. “I mean…”

“I know what you mean,” Dave cut in. He pressed a kiss to the top of Klaus’ head. “You might be a chaotic, eccentric oddball at times, but to me, you’re easy, too.” Klaus huffed a small laugh against Dave’s chest.

“I love that we always seem to be on the same page about stuff,” Klaus said into the quiet stillness of the room.

“Yeah,” Dave agreed. “We click. Always have. And I suppose we trust each other too, so that helps.”

Klaus blinked and swallowed hard.

“We do click, don’t we?” His voice was small.

“Yes,” Dave said earnestly.

“This really is something special, isn’t it?” Klaus said, just as quietly. He wants confirmation, Dave thought. Despite all the bravado, he’s actually a little vulnerable and insecure and wants confirmation.

“Yes,” Dave said, giving him exactly what he needed. “For me, right from the very first moment, this just felt right.”

“For me too,” Klaus admitted softly.

Klaus rolled over and settled on his side, pulling Dave flush behind him; the big spoon to Klaus’ little spoon. Dave’s knees tucked into the crook of Klaus’ legs, his arm coming over, fingers interlacing and hands curled close to Klaus’ chest. Dave’s groin pressed against Klaus’ backside, but in this moment, Dave felt nothing more than tenderness and affection. He pressed a kiss to the back of Klaus’ neck, the spot right between his shoulders, and shifted slightly, snuggling them even closer.

“After everything,” Klaus mumbled into the pillow, voice drowsy and muffled slightly. “After all this time, and everything we’ve been through to get here.” He paused, let out a breath and then carried on. “It’s hard to believe that this is how it could be from now on.”

Dave thought back to how he used to feel about his relationship with Klaus – like his life had turned into a series of moments as precious… and delicate… and fragile as champagne flutes on a tray in the wind. He wondered when he had stopped feeling like the tiniest wrong move or misstep could bring his happiness crashing down in a shower of irreparable shards of shattered crystal.

“Believe it,” Dave replied, and Klaus sighed and relaxed further into his arms. Dave shut his eyes and held him close, his heart beating a rhythm against Klaus’ back: this, just this, just this, just this, just this…

[jamiedc-they-them]

Being Todd Hewitt’s best friend would include:

Requested by @locke-writes

Being friends with Todd is a…complicated thing.

Someone who does care about you and is loyal, but also someone that has…issues.

Mainly anger. One that you try and help him control.

He can always see in your noise that you’re concerned for him, trying to do the best you can with him.

He does appreciate it.

You both have each other’s back. Always. No matter what it is.

He gets in a fight? You bet your ass you’re in there too.

Cillian and Ben raise you both as if you’re brothers.

You are both the youngest of the town, constantly counting down till your birthday.

You are both then forced on the run by the idea of the quiet.

When the Crocodile and Aaron attack, you both are able to just about get away with your lives.

Even if you’re both now a little battered and bloody.

You use the noise to talk sometimes as well; ask each other questions and what not.

In this instance, being; “Are you ok?”

Then you both meet Viola. And everything shifts.

It starts out…not the best. Ending in a quick fight, which you then break up.

Todd gives you the medipak that you use to help her with her wound.

Aaron almost kills you before going to choke Todd.

Todd shoulders your weight as you both go after the girl and Aaron.

When Todd is unable to kill Aaron, you try to assure him that it was the right choice.

“I’m weak.”

“You’re not, Todd.”

“If you say so.”

When Viola takes you to her ship, Todd does what he can for your wounds, patching them up.

Manchee stays close to you almost as much as he does with Todd.

You both feed the Cassor, letting your guards down for a moment.

However, you both cannot read, and so find trying to read the book Todd was given frustrating.

While he checks with the binoculars for threats, you just sit next to Viola. You try to console her, but she doesn’t seem to listen.

Then the bridge happens, and she opens up to you both. But, now there really is no going back.

You both start to bond with Viola, as she helps you with wounds and opens up to you about her parents. You both in turn tell her about this planet. Or, at least, what you know of it.

However, that all starts to be unravelled when you meet Hildy and Tam. And you both start to question things; more so in anger and frustration.

You both don’t believe it at first. But, you’re more open to it than Todd is.

It does lead to an argument, one that even Viola gets involved in. As, out of the two of you, she’s closer to you.

When you go to Farbranch, you both are treated the same.

However, it does teach you one thing; you’re in a much bigger world than you had previously thought.

You and Todd are both sent to the barn.

As you work, you work out the argument.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really. I just – I guess I’m just scared.”

“I’m scared too, Todd. But…we have each other, right?”

He nods, “Always.”

It’s then that you are on the run again as you are forced to watch the Army take over the place that gave you both a home.

Out of you and Todd, you’ve always been the more empathetic one.

Maybe it’s why Viola got closer to you quite quickly.

That, and you were more open with her and tried to make conversation.

With Wilf, it gives you guys a chance to just breathe for once.

When Davy attacks, he chastises you both on not being able to kill him. But Viola saves you both.

She reminds you both that you aren’t killers, and that the army is after you because that’s what they want.

When the Spackle event occurs, you just watch as your best friend kills for the first time.

As Viola talks to him after, you are still frozen.

She does what she can to get you out of the state;

“Y/N, I need you to look at me…There you go. I know – I know what he just did is…bad. But, don’t blame yourself, you couldn’t of stopped him.”

It is right after this, that Aaron catches up again. He stabs Todd, and impales you on a branch (morbid irony, in a way).

Todd passes out, you don’t. Meaning you have to watch Viola try and fight against Aaron as he drags her away. Her tear stained face looking back at the two of you.

When Todd wakes up, after getting the knife out of himself, he gets you off the branch.

It’s a painful process, but he does eventually get you off.

“I got you, Y/N.” He assures you, shouldering your weight.

You both pass out a little later, being saved by Wilf, and patched up. You both then continue on your way.

Together, you both forge a plan to save Viola.

“Ready?” Todd asks you, handing you back the bino’s.

“As always.” You answer, smile on your face.

Your plan (sort of) works, and you both feel impressed.

Until you see Manchee…And what happens to him.

As Todd passes out, it’s just you and Viola.

Two scared kids with another one who could die at any moment.

“I’m sorry, Vi.”

“For what?” She asks, in shock for your apology.

“That we weren’t strong enough to stop him.”

She grabs your hand, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. He – He didn’t want me, anyway. He…I think he wanted you both.”

“I’m glad you’re ok.”

“I’m glad you are too.” She manages a weak smile.

“You’re good for him.” She says, a bit further up.

“How you mean?”

“You’re loyal. You’re a good friend to him.”

“By all accounts, he’s my brother.” She smiles at that, too.

“He’s lucky to have you as one, too.”

“Yeah, well. We’ve kept each other alive this long without killing the other.” It’s dumb things like this that get the two of you through it. That make you both feel less scared.

“What am I, then?” She asks, almost nervous.

“Well…I can’t speak for him. But. If he’s a brother to me. Than I guess…you’re the other one…?”

“Sister?” She fills in for you.

“Yeah, ‘sister’.” The word sounds nice on your tongue.

She hugs you, hard.

“I’ve never had siblings before.” She admits, almost sadly.

“Well, you’ve got me, Vi.” You assure her.

“And you’ve got me.” She says in return.

When you reach Carbonel Downs, you make sure Todd gets looked at first.

But, Vi does make sure you get some help too.

You both catch on pretty quick that they won’t listen to her. So, she uses her voice to get you help instead. She insists on it, even.

She stays by both your sides as you get help.

When Todd does wake up, you and Vi both hug him tightly. Mainly in relief.

You then catch him up on what he’s missed, and try and support him with what happened to Manchee.

Although, Vi and him do see that you haven’t exactly worked through it yourself.

But, you then see Ben, and all seems to be ignored as you hug your father figure.

Then, once again, you are on the run. Ben going back to hold them off again.

Vi gives you both the speech about continuing, telling you both that you’re all she has and she’s all you both have.

And, it keeps you both going. As a unit.

Then you all realise, that you can read each other without need for noise and thought.

You’ve reached a synthesise with each other.

You all share a hug when you’ve made it to Haven.

However, there is just one more thing: Aaron.

He gets you to the cave area. Where you and Todd both share a look and decide; this is it. This is your last stand.

However, it isn’t you who kills him, it’s Vi.

She’s shaken, and you and Todd now become the people who comfort her.

A gunshot draws you both to still, as you see the red leaving her shirt.

You both charge at Davy, watching as he gets knocked off his horse and dragged away.

Then, taking an arm each, you both support Vi as you go towards Haven.

You’re in sync, both begging her to keep her eyes open.

You both get desperate that you call for help.

You both get desperate that you pretty much sell your soul to the president of the new world.

Because your best friends. It’s what you do.

And, you both know, that you would do it for the other it was the other way around.

[rowyn-writes]

Little Surprises (Sam Winchester x OFC)

Warnings: Pregnancy, self-doubt, slight angst, fluff.

Pairings: Sam x Ofc, Dean x Ofc (Platonically) Castiel x Ofc (Platonically)

Word count: 2030

"Riley! Now!" Sam yelled as he, Dean, and Castiel fought off a group of demons.

"Exstirpo!" She screamed. There was a bright flash in the room, and every demon in the room was eradicated. The four let out a sigh of relief.

The woman sat down on the floor, drained from using so much of her power. Riley Greene came from an ancient blood-line of witches. When she was younger, her mother taught her how to control her powers and use them for good. She would heal injured birds and make beautiful flowers grow from dead bushes. Riley was a strong believer in natural magic, she never wanted to use sacrificial magic. She would usually tap into the power of her ancestors to get her fuel.

"You boys okay?" She asked, looking around.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good." Sam nodded. "What about you?" Riley gave him a thumbs up.

"Can we get back to the bunker, please? I'm exhausted."

Sam pulled Riley to her feet, stumbling a bit. She had been feeling dizzy lately, and she had no idea why. Dean clapped her on the shoulder, giving her a smile. "Great work the spell, Riles. We couldn't have done it without you."

"Could you ever do anything without me?" She grinned. "You'd all be dead by now if it wasn't for me."

Dean didn't have a comeback for that statement, as it was fairly true. Riley had been hunting with the boys for six years now, ever since she had stumbled on the boys fighting a leviathan in an alleyway. Of course, the brothers were skeptical when they realized what she was. Hunters never really liked witches. Riley herself never particularly liked Hunters either, they were too cocky for her taste. Sam and Dean eventually warmed up to her over time, and even called on her to help them when they needed a witch.

After a while, Riley began to Hunt with them, as she didn't have anything left where she was at. Her mother was killed by a group of demons who were looking for some kind of spell for Crowley. Dean and Castiel became like brothers to Riley, while Sam was different. Whenever they would go out to the bar after a case, men would flirt with the young witch, and this irritated Sam greatly. After years of unrequited longing, the two finally got together.

The four limped their way back to the Impala, Sam and Riley taking the back seat while Castiel rode shotgun. The woman rested her head on Sam's shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut.

---

Riley doesn't remember being carried inside the bunker, but apparently she was, as she woke up in her shared bed with Sam. She gave him a sleepy smile. "Hey."

"Hey," He said, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. "You slept for a while. Are you feeling okay?"

Riley nodded as she yawned. "I'm fine Sam. After doing a big spell my magic needs time to recover, meaning I like to sleep. A lot. And eat, I'm starving."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, what do you want to eat?"

"A veggie burger sounds great. Ooh, add extra pickles."

Sam raised an eyebrow at her. "You hate pickles." Riley shrugged in response. "Alright, I'll be back in a bit. I love you." He said, kissing her on the forehead.

"I love you too." Sam slipped on his shoes before walking out of the room, leaving Riley by herself. She decided to pick up one of her many unread books and started reading. Right now, everything felt calm; Lucifer was back in the cage, Sam and Dean were safe, and Mary was back. However, they were still searching for Kelly Kline.

Riley couldn't really blame her for running. If she was in the same situation as Kelly, she would have no idea how to handle it. She had never given much thought to having children, as her and Sam never really talked about it. She also didn't see how her and Sam could ever raise children with their 'occupation.'

Riley clutched her stomach as it rumbled. She slammed her book shut and ran to the bathroom. She hurled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

"Hey, Riles, have you seen my-" Dean's voice sounded from the doorway. "Riley!" He rushed to the woman, pulling her hair back. He rubbed her back soothingly as she continued to vomit. Once she was finished, Dean gave her a glass of water. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Dean gave her a look, meaning he didn't quite believe her. He pressed his palm to her forehead, searching for signs of a fever. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized that she was cool. "Well, you don't have a fever, so that rules out the flu. Food poisoning?" Dean suggested.

"Probably. After all, you always make us eat crappy fast food." Dean rolled his eyes at the woman.

"You might wanna brush your teeth, cuz your breath reeks." Riley shoved his shoulder, grinning as she stood up. "Anyways, have you seen my magazines anywhere?"

She rolled her eyes. "Get out." Dean nodded, making his way out the door.

Riley climbed back into bed, wrapping herself in blankets. She had no idea why she was still so tired; she had slept for hours.

When Sam got back, he found Riley curled up in one of his flannels, looking very comfortable. He handed her the bag of food as he climbed in bed next to her.

Riley happily ate her veggie burger and french fries, which she didn't ask for but Sam knew she loved them.

Once she was finished, she cuddled into Sam's side. She didn't know why, but she just wanted his attention. He ran his hand though her hair, which put the woman at ease. She eventually fell asleep again, which slightly worried Sam. He knew that she would get tired after preforming a strong spell, but she had been sleeping almost all day.

Riley turned over, trying to find a better sleeping position, which allowed Sam to quietly slip out of the room. He decided to go voice his concerns to his brother. "Hey," Sam said, leaning against the door frame of Dean's room. "Has Riley seemed off to you today?"

"Well, yeah. She was throwing up earlier." Dean shrugged. Seeing Sam's worried look, he added, "It's probably food poisoning." Sam nodded, releasing a breath of air. Even though Dean attempted to sooth Sam's woes, he was still concerned for Riley.

---

"Oh crap." Riley whispered. "This cannot be happening." She looked down at the three positive pregnancy tests. She closed her eyes, breathing in sharply. "Damnit!" She yelled, throwing the sticks at the wall.

Castiel came running into the bathroom, worried that she had hurt herself. "Riley? What's wrong?" The woman crouched down quickly picking up the pregnancy tests.

"Nothing's wrong, Cas, I'm fine." She choked on her tears.

"You're not fine, Riley. You're clearly upset. Why are you crying?" Castiel gently rested his hands on her arms. Her bottom lip wobbled as more tears streamed down her face. The angel frowned as he brought her in for a hug. "What's going on, Riley?"

She didn't answer for a few moments as she continued to sob. "I'm pregnant."

"Is that a bad thing?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know Cas!" Riley sniffed. "Sam and I never talked about it, we-we never even entertained the thought. We're Hunters, Castiel! We can't raise a baby. I mean we just locked Lucifer back up in the cage! What if someone is able to get him out again? I can't let a child be raised in this world where friggin' demons walk the earth pretending to be everyday people! I can't - I can't be a mother!"

"Riley, Riley, hey, I need you to calm down, okay. Just breath." She nodded, drying the tears from her face. "You need to talk to Sam about this, he'll want to know. Everything will be okay."

"W-what if I lose Sam? What if we want different things and we drift apart? I can't lose him, Cas. I love him so much."

"Riley, you're not going to lose him. I'm sure whatever you chose, Sam will back you up 100%, and if he doesn't, then he'll have me to deal with." Riley giggled at the thought of Castiel threatening Sam.

"Thanks, Cas. I really needed someone to talk to. I just don't have anyone to talk to about being a parent. My parents are dead, and none of us really have any clue how to raise a kid. Except for maybe Dean when he was with Ben and Lisa."

"And even then I wasn't Dad of the Year." A voice said from the doorway, causing Riley to jump. Dean. "Sorry, Riles. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

She sighed as she looked at the man. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it. Don't worry, I won't tell Sam." He assured her. "But you do need to tell him. And soon. Because if you keep it from him, it won't make things easier."

Riley nodded. "Where is he now?"

"At the store, stocking up of food." Dean informed her.

Riley was saddened to hear that Castiel had to leave, seeing as he was still searching for Kelly Kline. So that left her and Dean alone in the bunker. She voiced her concerns to the man about being a mother, and if Sam even wanted the baby.

"Riley, you are the most nurturing person I have ever met." Dean told her. "I know that if you and Sam do decide to keep the baby, you will be a great mother."

"I'm just so scared, Dean. We're Hunters, we could never give that up, and I don't want to leave this baby an orphan if something were to happen to us."

Dean gave her a small smile. "There is a friggin village here that will take care of them is something ever happens." Riley laughed, knowing it was true.

"Hey guys!" A voice said from the kitchen. "I'm back!" Riley suddenly tensed up at the sound of Sam's voice.

Dean rested a hand on her shoulder. "Everything's gonna be fine, Riles." Sam gave him a confused look as he appeared in the doorway. "If you upset her, I'll break your jaw." He said, patting his little brother on the back as he exited the room.

Sam's confusion deepened. "Riley, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"I guess that kinda depends on how you react to what I'm about to tell you." She mumbled, picking at her nails.

"You're kind of making me nervous, Riles. What is it?"

"I'm pregnant." Sam grew wide-eyed as he stared at his girlfriend. He stayed silent for a while. "Please say something." She pleaded.

Sam sat down next to Riley and grabbed her hand. "What do you want to do?" He asked. "Because whatever you decide, I will stand by your decision."

"I-I want to keep the baby." She told him.

Sam's smile grew wide as he tackled Riley in a hug. She squealed in surprise. "We're having a baby!" Sam said as he kissed her. "I'm so happy." Riley could see tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh, Sammy." She whispered as she wiped away a tear. "I love you so much."

Sam mumbled and 'I love you,' as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. Riley felt tears on her skin.

"So you guys are keeping the baby then?" Dean asked from the doorway. He always seemed to be lurking around the bunker.

"We are." Riley confirmed.

Dean clapped his hands together, a wide smile in his face. "I'm gonna be an uncle!" He looked over to his little brother. "And you're gonna be a dad. How are you feeling, Sammy?"

"How's he feeling?" Riley asked incredulously. "I'm the one that has to carry the baby around for nine months." The men cracked a smile at that.

"Okay, I'll bite." Sam said. "How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous. Definitely nauseous."

[booknerdateen]

The Grishaverse Series

A mini dramaticness before we begin

Also note: there are spoilers so beware

It all started with Six of Crows. I read the book either last year or a few years ago. The news came when Shadow and Bone was being adapted into a show. So, I decided to go down the rabbit hole and read the trilogy before I watched the show so I can get a more depth of the world and all that. I finished the books with eight days to spare. A few days after I finished the season, I went to Barnes to get the other books. I already had Six Of Crows, but y’all can never have too many copies. Soon, I reentered the world of the Crows. Finally at last, I was able to read Crooked Kingdom (one of my best friends been dying for me to read CK). After the catastrophe of CK’s ending, I delved into King of Scars. I didn’t really know much about Nikolai’s duology besides it being about him, Zoya, and Nina. With the annoying ending of Scars, I started Rule of Wolves the next day. I started this journey from Alina and the Darkling to the Crows and their hiesting to seeing Nina’s happiness and Nikolai and Zoya dealing with their demons-figuratively and literally. So, here we are reaching and end of an era for me. I am glad I got to read an amazing series of this world.

The Grisha Trilogy

Aright yall!

I went into the trilogy not knowing much, besides the teaser trailer knowledge

I went in trying to not be biased about the Darkling cuz Ben Barnes

Did it affect me, yes yes it did

Although I don’t like Darkling

Some of y’all hate me for this but I ship Darklina

Yes yes, they toxic, but man you can’t convince me Darkling and Alina had that amazing chemistry in the first book

Not counting when Alina found out bout his true intentions and all that

I didn’t understand why we hated Mal until half way through Siege and Storm

I’m not Malina, but I can understand why we ship them

My amazing love of my life, Nikolai/Stormhund!

Him revealing himself as the prince, omg

Nikolai planting a kiss on Alina and her hitting him afterwards, love it

Tamar and Toyla are amazing!

I actually didn’t realize they were Shu until King Of Scars

Do I see why they betrayed Alina and used her for the Apparat (who needs to freakin die!), yes

Should they’ve, no but I see why though

Harshaw is me half the time

I love him teaming up with a random cat and called him Oncat pure wholesome

Alina going back to the Palace to start the Second Army and understandably putting a whole in the cafeteria ceiling, yes bruh

It’s not the cafeteria but I can’t remember what it’s called so hush

I thought she was gonna murder someone with that cut

Zoya declaring her alliance to Alina

Alina being sus about Zoya….I get that

Genya’s iconic “I am not ruined, I am ruination” I freakin love that!

Nikolai putting his father in his place and potentially exposing the king to r*pe

I freakin lived for that!

I did suspect that what happened between him and Genya, but it was more implied until R&R

Deaths=man, we lost some amazing peeps

Founding out Mal is the third amplifier, blew my mind

Mal dying=was not having that

Mal resurected=didn’t think it had worked, but it did

Darkling being stabbed and killed by his own knife by Alina…..wow

I didn’t like that

Sorry not sorry

I thought it felt a little rushed when that happened

I’m still confused on how he died

Overall: 9/10 I loved it

Six of Crows Duology

I don’t remember what happened in this book when I first read it

I longing to live to be part of the Crows

I love their friendship

Reminds me of my friends

“Compromise. I’m sorry does the trick and uses fewer bullets”

I’ll probably do a post about my favorite lines of the books

Oh yes, so I read SoC after watching S&B

Reading Nina and Matthias’ parts with the shipwreck and all that and it being the same as their scenes in the show

I loved that

Well vice versa it should be….show being line for line like the book with them

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat”

I actually texted my mom that but reworded it as a way of asking her to get Taco Bell breakfast after her PT

It worked

Wesper, Kanej, Helnik=yesssss

My cinnamon roll Wylan

Jesper, Inej, and Wylan hijacking a fjierdan tank=high speed chase but with teenagers

The 180* that Van Eck and Kaz kept doing in the end, omg

Van Eck being a total evilness, man I wanted to smack him

Inej almost giving up on escaping

Kaz pushed Wylan against the wall about to kill him

Jesper’s father being afraid of Little Jesper being killed cuz Jes being grisha

Speaking of that, I did not see that coming

Kaz and Jesper getting into a fight and Wylan and Kuweii being the only ones concerned

Jesper Llewellyn Fahey

Jesper kissing Kuweii thinking he was Wylan

Wylan being broken-hearted

Them making up ahhhhh

The auction….that’s it that’s the only thing

Matthias being shot

Him going to Nina to say he loves her

Chapter 40= I tossed the book and dramatic screamed (not actually screaming)

Omg, Wylan finding out his mother aint dead but in a rehab place bruhhhhh

Kaz reuniting Inej with her parents

Kaz’s small steps of touching people again

Overall: 10/10 I’m biased about this duology

Nikolai Duology

Nikolai transforming into darkling creature at night is the equivalent of a werewolf turning at night (depending if we do every full moon and all that)

Nina burying Matthias’ body 😭

He found peace

Nina being the best necromancer grisha

Nina wanting to choke the ever living death out of Brun

Genya and David being married

Nadia and Tomar being married

David threating the monk

The monk 🤦🏾‍♀️

Wait no, the “Starless Saint” Cult 🤦🏾‍♀️

Nina mentioning about the Crows, mentally not verbally

Kuweii setting a tree on fire

The fold universe is very confusing

Sankta Eve…whats her name betraying them all to bring Darkling to life

Zoya being amazing as always

The Apparat really needs to die

I cannot stand that dude

The attenpted assination on Nikolai and Princess Shu (I forgot her name)

Isaak willingly to take Nikolai’s place while he in the fold

Isaak falling in love with Princess Shu

Or should i say “Princess Shu”

Isaak deserved better

Darkling ressurected 🙄

Nina and Hanne 💜

Freakin Brum I swear

Ramus deserved to die

Alina, Mal, Misha, and Oncat cameo

The Crows cameo!

Inej cameo in the end!

“Captain Ghafa”

Darking decided to give a redemption

Why….just why

Zoya turning into a dragon, that’s my zoya!

Nikolai turning into darkling creature to risk Ravka’s future

Brum being exile

Mwhahah

Hanne tailored as Ramus bruhhhh

I feel like Hanne is a trans coded character, I’ll go depth in another post

Freakin fjeirda in general

Fjeirda soldiers bowing down to “Sankta Zoya”

Nikolai stepping down the throne

Giving the throne to Zoya!

Queen Zoya

David’s death….I was not prepared for that 😭

Inej suspecting Alina to be actually Alina to Nikolai

Nikolai brushing her off as an old friend from the country

“I need Stormund to send a message to Kaz Brekker. I have a job for him”

Not word for word but ya know

Six of Crows 3??!?!?!! Ahhh

Overall: 8/10 loved it!

[spell-cleaver]

DAY 17: WHUMPTOBER: I Didn’t See That Coming - Dirty Secret @whumptober2020​

The Pirate Son AU Masterpost. This is an immediate sequel to the previous ficlet (The Song).

Luke was still sitting in a small puddle on the floor of his room when Vader returned, staring into space. Vader just sighed, knelt down next to him, took the towel and wrapped it around Luke’s shoulder, starting to rub at his hair.

Luke looked up at him. Now dressed in a complete departure from his usual black ensemble, some ragged brown trousers, a beige shirt and a scrappy dark jacket, he looked totally different from the monster who’d hunted him for so long. That, and—

“Your…” Luke swallowed. “Your mask.” He wasn’t wearing it at all.

His father smiled at him—it was a quick, bitter smile, more a flash of the teeth, as though he hadn’t bothered with letting anyone see him smile in a long, long time. “It was getting rusty, and cold. I took it off for now.”

“Oh.” Luke was still staring.

Vader looked… He’d been right, Luke thought, all those years ago when he’d first met his father and worried that they looked alike. They did look similar, from the colour of their hair to the clefts in their chins to the shapes of their eyes. Vader’s were a vicious yellow though, and Luke found it uncomfortable to make contact with them for too long.

His father was deathly pale, too, with his skin clinging close to his skull and faint blue tinges at his temple. His hair was cut severely short, shorn close to his head, only adding to the harsh effect, enhancing the blue, and Luke couldn’t help but compare it mentally to his own hair, getting long enough that Leia had starting braiding it in the few days before his capture. He wondered what his father would’ve thought if he’d shown up with that. He wondered if he could try and braid his own hair, now that it wasn’t like he had much else to do…

He wondered why he kept distracting himself.

“What…” His voice was hoarse, his back ramrod straight—he wanted to lean into Vader, but he couldn’t—as he whispered, “What happened, then…?”

Vader paused in drying Luke’s hair and laid the towel around his shoulders again. “When Palpatine inherited the crown of Coruscant and started expanding his Empire with the promise of eradicating piracy from the seas, I joined him wholeheartedly. I hated pirates—they carried the slave shipment that my mother died in—and he promised he knew a way to make sure they never stained the seas again. My wife, Padmé, the light of my life… She was pregnant. I had a family to protect—scouring pirates from the face of the seven seas was certainly a way I was going to achieve that. So I joined him, as one of the most powerful sorcerers to sail the seas, and when I confided in him that I was worried about one day dying in battle and leaving my family alone, the way my father did to me… He told me there was a way to stop myself and others, from dying.”

Luke swallowed, and tried very hard not to think of the way that bullet three years ago had punched right through Vader’s chest, yet still he’d continued on. “That way was to become undead?”

“It was to strip you of your humanity, in the long run,” Vader said, his voice flat. “Taking your mortality is a vital part of that. I cannot eat—not that I need to—and nor can I die. Padmé was horrified by what I’d done to myself—and…”

Vader hesitated. He stood up, to open a drawer and pull out a change of clothes for Luke, so his back was turned to him when he said, “Horrified by the implication that this sort of half-life was what I’d been planning to give my wife and child, as well.”

Luke sucked in a breath.

He felt like he’d been punched.

“You…” He took several heaving breaths. “You— you want me to live like this!?”

“No,” Vader said. “I had not asked Palpatine for the details of the curse, and nor did he offer them. And it is a curse—one that was passed onto all my men, once he gave me a ship with which to serve him. I am bound to him so long as I am in this form, he can sense me and track me wherever I go, he can control every aspect of my life, and I will serve him.”

Luke gaped. “And you agreed to that?”

“No. I did not know what he was offering me—Padmé was right to object to foisting this hellish existence on our child as well, but…” He straightened up again, a nightshirt in hand, and half-turned back to Luke. His eyes were closed.

“She left,” he whispered. “She left me, when she was still pregnant. I searched for her for months.”

“I thought you said you killed her.”

“I searched for her for months,” Vader reiterated, slightly more harshly—then calmer, again, when Luke flinched. “I did not find her until I boarded and inspected a small fisherman’s craft, which she had paid for passage to Alderaan on, with our baby. She’d… she’d set up a life in the hills of Naboo, as far from the sea as she could be, in the months she was away, she’d said, but then… But then you had got sick,” his throat was tight, “with some illness, something magic-related that she couldn’t understand… Sorcerer children get it, frequently. She was travelling to Alderaan, where she would find Kenobi, an old friend who’d turned her against me when I was first cursed, who’d convinced her to leave me in the first place—”

“I know who Ben is,” Luke said shortly.

Vader took a breath. “Yes.” He turned around fully to sit cross-legged opposite Luke, and passed him the nightshirt. Luke put it on with scepticism, but it was dry and warm; he felt slightly better. “She had been travelling to him, to get advice, leaving her home in Naboo under the care of her sister.

“I told her that I could help you. I offered all my services, all my training—magic-related illnesses are tricky, but they are rarely fatal, and I could have found something—so long as you both came back to me. I wanted you back. But she refused and… we fought…”

Luke clenched his fists in the towel and didn’t meet his father’s eyes—suddenly, suddenly he had an idea— “Tell me you didn’t… No…”

“Pirates attacked.”

Luke jerked his head up. Vader continued, “Pirates attacked the ship we were on—bold of them to, but the Executor was separated from their little schooner by the fisherman’s ship, and they couldn’t easily fire on it without fearing to hit me… They boarded the schooner. I ran out to fight them off. But it was only me and a few of my men… You were in a crib on the other end of the ship, watched over by the fisherman, and…”

Luke bowed his head. He… could see where this was going.

“I tried to fight them. But they knew you were my son—they threatened you, they took you, and in the heat of the battle, I— I pulled out my pistol and I shot—”

Vader let out a breath.

“She was in the way,” he said. “I should have been more careful. I should never have argued with her—not to the extent that she made sure you were separated from us, away from our spat. I shouldn’t have ever driven her away.

“The bullet caught her in the chest. She died in minutes. And by the time we were able to hunt down the pirates… We caught up to them days later, but they said they had thrown you overboard and laughed as you drowned.”

Luke… didn’t know how to react to that.

That was awful.

“I… I knew that Ben rescued me from pirates,” he said shakily. “That he saved me as a baby. And he told me that you were my father, several years ago, and that my mother had made it clear to him while pregnant that if anything were to happen to her, she wanted him to look after her child rather than let me go back to you.”

Vader clenched his fists at that, stiffly, but said nothing.

“I made,” he said, “a grave error. And I have lived with it, and my curse, ever since.”

Vader looked away violently, for a second, voice choked. “They took you, son. I was haunted by dreams of a little ghost boy wandering the seas for years. I— I watched that ship retreat and knew that I had lost everything, and when I learnt your name—”

“When you learnt my name,” Luke said, “you decided that anything was justified, in order to get me back?”

Vader let out a breath. “Yes.”

“Killing my friends. Hunting me. Nearly sending me to the gallows—”

“I cannot disobey my master—he ordered that you join us, or be hanged, and I had to tread very, very carefully—”

“You sent me to my death!”

Vader said, “Yes. I did. And I am going to make sure that that is something that will never happen, ever again. I am going to break this curse.”

“How!?” Luke gave him a sceptical look. “It’s a blood oath, isn’t it? It has those hallmarks. Only Palpatine can break it, unless...”

“It is not quite a blood oath, no. It was his adaptation of an old myth—about pirates who stole the wrong person’s gold. Once you took a single coin from that chest, you were cursed for life, until it was broken. He adapted it to swords—there was an old creed of sorcerers, the Sith, who forged a thousand sabres and hid them in a cave on the island of Mustafar. The perfect killing weapons, imbued with the sort of magic that sees its wielder become the ruler of the seas, but once you fasten your hands around the hilt, the curse sets in. You cannot die—but neither can you truly live.”

Vader met Luke’s eyes again, for the first time, and somehow the yellow even had a tinge of red to it, now. “He married it with a blood oath, to make it especially binding. I am his immortal servant, forever.”

“And how do you break it?”

Vader was suddenly very interested in the hem of his shirt. “It is a steep and difficult price,” he said. “Now rest. You need it—your back—”

His back had been in agony the whole time, yeah, but that wasn’t what was important here. “What is the price?”

“We will find a way,” Vader promised, and then he left the room.

Luke listened carefully, but there was no tell-tale click of a lock. He wasn’t locked in, this time.

How did his father plan to break the curse?

Blood oaths… blood oaths often required, well, blood to be broken. The death of the person bound, or the person binding. Or…

Or of someone who shared their blood.

Luke swallowed.

His father had killed his mother.

But he wouldn’t do that, would he?

Luke didn’t know. He didn’t know the man at all. Everything… everything he told him could be a lie. Everything he did could be a lie.

Had he saved him from the sirens just so he could sacrifice Luke himself, later?

Luke didn’t want to die. He especially didn’t want to die like that.

He didn’t sleep very well that night at all.

[carewyncromwell]

Vhat’s this? Some canon content?? GASP. (Don’t worry, the next part of the POTC AU is in the works, I promise, I just have to finish writing out all the text XD;;;)

But uh, yeah! This is Duncan Ashe with my MC Carewyn Cromwell, though Care-Bear really doesn’t look like herself right now. That’s because this is directly post-Redacted.

After what happened in the Portrait Vault, Carewyn made the decision that she would not follow Rakepick’s example anymore by taking the entire burden of the Cursed Vaults completely on her shoulders and -- by extension -- lying to all of her friends that she was no longer interested in the Vaults so as to make sure none of them would try to help or stop her. This way (she thought) she could ensure that none of them would get hurt because of her again, like Merula did.

Unfortunately her friends really didn’t cooperate with this plan. Soon enough they started to get suspicious about how much Carewyn was hiding from them -- Charlie in particular got into a very heated argument with Carewyn after hearing about the “wizard in white” who was supposedly after her and Merula that Carewyn refused to tell them about, which ended up getting worse when Ben tried to “defend” Carewyn by attacking Charlie with Langlock and the two Gryffindors got into a huge physical confrontation that Carewyn had to break up. Ben, of course, refused to let Carewyn do anything on her own and so when he and Merula caught wind she was going to the Forest alone, they collided with her en route and refused to let her go without them. This, of course, led to the “Redacted” event where Rakepick killed Rowan.

As soon as it happened, Carewyn lost her mind. For long, horrible, stretching minutes all she could do was scream and grab onto Rowan, even physically and verbally lashing out at Ben and Merula with pure, undiluted spite and pain if they tried to get close. Then, by the time they reached the castle, Carewyn went completely silent. In the days and weeks that followed, Carewyn became a shadow of her former self.

To quote a previous post:

“This girl who is usually known for being an eternally composed, strong, witty, brave fashionista Mama Bear will, quite simply, disappear. No more stylish hair – no more polished make-up – no more pretty outfits…and worst of all, she will glide the halls like a ghost, unable to eat or say a word to anyone, and disappearing for long periods of time. The silence will be deafening. She cannot comfort others. She cannot reassure, encourage, nurture, or counsel her friends. She cannot sing. She cannot answer any of her friends’ or teachers’ questions or address their concerns. She cannot even cry. Her eyes are broken, empty, and devoid of light or hope.

“This goes on for weeks, with Carewyn disappearing more and more often…until one day, she is gone for a full 24 hours. Her friends panic, thinking that she might have run away or otherwise hurt herself, and tear the whole school apart looking for her. Bill will even put his most recent Cursebreaking assignment on hold to come back to Hogwarts to look for his friend. It’s when he arrives that Bill asks Duncan Ashe to help them look for Carewyn – and it is Duncan that finds Carewyn, huddled up alone in a dark closet inside the Astronomy Tower.

“Duncan tries to shake Carewyn back to her senses, but nothing he says gets through to her. Nothing he says can make her speak to him. Nothing he says can bring any life to her eyes. It’s so bad that Duncan – after what feels like an eternity of scolding, yelling, and appealing to Carewyn – falls apart and bursts into tears.”

This is what’s pictured here -- Duncan finally breaking down.

“What do I have to do, Carewyn!? Do you want me to grovel, is that it?! You want me to beg?! You heartless feck, TALK to me, damn it! Say something! Anything! Insult me, scream at me, curse me to Hell -- tell me to go away, if you want, I don’t care, just ANSWER ME! Just show me that you -- that you’re -- ”

Duncan’s voice seemed to get stuck in his throat. He choked -- he felt the clutching of his chest and noticed the blurring of his vision that came with crying, and yet he never felt the bubbling tears streaming from his eyes down his translucent face. He tried to blink them away, tried to look for any shred of awareness or consciousness in Carewyn’s face -- but she still never raised her head. Her cheeks were sickly, ghostly pale. Her dark, hollowed, bag-trimmed eyes were devoid of light.

Duncan recognized the emotion, or lack thereof -- and it scared him more than anything ever had. 

“Carewyn -- don’t -- don’t you dare! You...can’t...”

His head seemed to shake back and forth of its own accord. He reached out, wanting to comfort -- but he knew it was no use. Even if he could focus enough to not pass right through her, he couldn’t actually hold her hand, even if he wanted to.

Duncan had always wondered if he was really right to think that Jacob didn’t care that he was dead. Part of him always thought that he’d projected that lack of caring on Jacob all those years, simply because he hadn’t ever returned to Hogwarts, or Duncan hadn’t ever heard about how much he grieved...or...perhaps because Duncan himself thought he didn’t deserve being grieved, in the first place...

But this...if Jacob had been like this -- like his sister now -- devoid of light or hope...or even self-preservation...

Jacob’s sister wanted to die. The thing Jacob cherished more than his own life, that he spoke of with pure love in his face, that he always held up as his reason to keep fighting when things were their scariest -- the girl who Duncan himself had grown to care about, after she’d taken so much of her own time to make sure he didn’t feel all alone and to make some of his days just that little bit better...to make him feel, at least once in a while, that someone did mourn the fact he was no longer alive --

She wanted to die.

Duncan felt his heart breaking as he stared at Carewyn, unable to hold back his sobs.

“...Please...please...”

To continue the quoted summary,

“It’s only then that Carewyn finally opens her mouth and speaks. She puts her hand down inside Duncan’s own translucent hand as if trying to hold it and asks if he can feel anything. Duncan cries even harder, yelling furiously – even after everything that had happened and everything he’d said, all Carewyn can do was worry about everyone else! And it’s then that the truth finally comes out – Carewyn doesn’t see herself as someone worthy of love and caring. She’s vanished because she doesn’t see her life as something worth protecting, or her pain worth healing. She doesn’t deserve her friends’ or the staff’s concern. She doesn’t deserve their comfort or sympathy. She ‘deserves’ to be alone, and in pain, and hated, for what happened to Rowan. She ‘knows’ it would be better for everyone if she simply…vanished.

“Eventually, however, Duncan smashes through Carewyn’s self-loathing and suicidal thoughts. Maybe she doesn’t think she deserves to be loved…but she is loved all the same…by choices made by the people around her. They are the ones who can determine how they see Carewyn – not her. They’re the ones who are owed a choice in whether or not they accept Carewyn for everything she is.

“At last, Carewyn comes down from the Astronomy Tower. She collides with Bill, Charlie, Ben and Merula at the bottom of the stairs. The three Gryffindor boys all dash forward, throwing their arms around Carewyn and latching onto her like they’re never going to let her go again. There is an intense exchange – but when Carewyn finally breaks down into tears and admits that she needs help, her friends decide to stand by her, even despite the many mistakes she’s made. And from there…very slowly…the healing begins.”

[constant-and-immovable]

“Do you ever feel like we’re just existing?”, maybe? (*carefully ignores the fact that I picked this for its persons-of-the-tale vibes*)

Jim entertains herself with the occasional philosophical question, but too often, they drag her downwards.

When her old friend fills a lull in conversation with the words, she doesn't know how to answer.

"Where did that even come from?" she asks, looking over Ben's shoulder. She's terrible at eye contact; she saves it for the officials, for merchants, for contracts and dock officers who look down their nose at her. For them, she'll suffer; for the sake of her cold captain persona, she'll do anything. For her friends? Her guilt is richer than the sands of the cursed island she buried her childhood in, but she cannot be bothered to put forth the effort when they all know her better than to think she's genuine when meeting their eyes.

"I don't know. It's silly, really. Only...only I was sitting in one of Professor Smith's lectures, and started on about how we should all strive for an adventure, at least the once. And I...Jim, I've never had to 'strive' for anything."

Jim doesn't think that's true. Ben took months to even start to speak normally after his return. Spending his share of the old on his education afterwards, with a goal of being able to write about his life, of never having to go to sea again. He worked hard-- and from what little he's let slip over the years, it sounds as if he had worked for the gold as a boy too. Cabin boy and powder monkey, a trick shot with a gun, and small enough to sneak around amidst the chaos of a boarding party--Ben Gunn used to be a pirate, that was the key difference in their histories.

Aside of course, from the fact that she was a girl, and unlike a grim 'good riddance', she had wept for days after her betrayer's supposed death.

"I haven't either," she tries to make it sound nonchalant, but the long drink she takes of the dark beer in her mug doesn't seem very relaxed. "Squire bought me my ship and papers after Dr. Livesey found me my first position on the Neptune. I've been given everything on a plate."

"That's not--" but he knows better. Knows her better. It's one of the main reasons why they never became what all the adults in their lives hoped they would: their broken pieces didn't fit together like a puzzle so much as keep them from connecting as soundly as they could.

"We've already had our adventures, we're just... here now," Jim sighs, takes in the front dinging room of her inn in the dim afternoon light. In another life, she never questioned her role, stayed, married whoever would tolerate her strangeness and faded into the background of her own house. In yet another one, she and Silver had returned, and in time, he might have asked her grandmother if he could court her granddaughter--still, that version too left her a background character.

She's one of the only woman captains in the empire. One of seventeen, last she bothered to ask. Of those, she is only one of nine who sail without a husband, one of five that sail without a partner.

Not true either--Silver might still be there when she returns.

Her brain shoves the thought aside instantly. She cannot tolerate thinking about him in front of Ben; it feels like she's betraying him.

"So this is happily ever after?"

She could accuse him of melancholy, but he's earned his grim moods. Silver has them too, though she doesn't think he's earned them. Not now, not here--but it's too late, she's lost the fight with her own mind, and the image of him walking up from the galley, a tray laden with a tea pot, fresh biscuits, and still the best stew she's ever had on a ship makes her want to be back on the water.

"Maybe not."

"I don't want to be a character things keep happening to. I want to be a person."

"I don't think we have that option."

"We could still get married--" Jim chokes on her beer, "--or not."

"What happened to Charles?" she manages between coughing into her napkin, trying to breathe.

"Right before I left for the holiday, we had a...slight disagreement."

"Christ, this is why--this is why you're in such a dreary--"

"What? It's not as if you've never gone down some self pitying spiral because a girl didn't bat her eyes at you. We could marry."

"I can't--we agreed that wouldn't work, we--"

"It's a bad idea anyway."

"Ben, I love you, but we're...you have Charles and I found someone last season, and besides that I--"

"You have the sea, I know; you really are set on becoming a lonely old captain aren't you?"

"I am. It's the only story I want for myself. Whatever else happens, or whatever I can't control, I want my name known as Captain Hawkins."

Ben yawned. They'd both been up since before dawn, talking, then wandering the coastline before sunrise and nearly to noon before coming back here.

"Someday, Jim, I hope to help you write your memoir."

"You'd have to step foot on the Polaris to write about her properly," she teases, trying to dig for more of the lightness she glimpsed in his last remark.

"Over my dead body, Captain," he smiles.

Jim opens her mouth to say something else, something about how he had played in the surf this morning, surely that too broke his 'never going onto the ocean' again rule as much as touring her beloved ship would, but something stops her.

"Did you hear that?"

A knock on the front door of the inn--someone who didn't notice the sign, 'closed for the holiday,' or--or someone who couldn't read it.

"I'm a-lookin' for a Captain Hawkins, if she's 'ere?"

Ben pales to near white at the ghost's voice.

"...Ben, remember I told you that I found someone?"

[bexterbex]

A Soul To Mend His Own | Ch. 39

[Gif by @cloudyfacewithjam​]

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 39: No But They Can Try

You finished breakfast and bid the lieutenant a good day, sending him off to go get rest. You turned to the general. “So what is it that we are learning today?”

The general was over on one of the walls preparing a giant screen that you didn’t know existed. “It has been requested by the Supreme Leader that you take some finishing lessons.”

“Finishing lessons?”

He successfully brought a video to the screen. “Yes, along with your diplomacy lessons the Supreme Leader has requested that you take finishing lessons or etiquette lessons. You are to be a refined lady, an empress. He has made it clear that you are to succeed in the areas he does not.”

He started the video or lack of video as it seemed to be an audiobook.  

Ch. 1: What is Best Society?

Ch. 2: Introductions

Ch. 3: Greetings 10 min

Ch. 4: Salutations of Courtesy

Ch. 5: On the Street and in Public

There wasn’t much discussion as he had talked about with the lieutenant. You both just sat back and listened, rather you listened and he worked on his data pad. After the fifth chapter, you had enough of listening to rules of etiquette, so you decided to strike up a conversation in hopes of ending the lesson.

“Why is it that I am learning this and you are working on something else?”

“Because I am not going to become a lady. That is your job, my job is to make sure that you are learning what you are learning. I am currently working on my other job of running the First Order. Just because the Supreme Leader has assigned me to be in charge of your care and your lessons does not mean any of my other duties have ceased.” He still failed to look up from his data pad.

“I thought the Supreme Leader ran the First Order?” You were digging for something.

The data pad hit the redhead’s lap in frustration, but before the words you suspected that he wanted to say came out of his mouth he answered, “of course the Supreme Leader does, but there are many, many duties he cannot do himself and so he leaves them in the very capable hands of others.”

“I sense some hostility in you general. You don’t have to keep it from me that you wished he would do more or that you did less.” You were looking at the man rather pointedly.

“The Supreme Leader and I knew each other before he became the Supreme Leader. At that time we were both competing for the previous Supreme Leader’s good graces. Ones that he never really gave out. And then the Supreme Leader usurped him. I was afraid that because of our past grievances that he would just put me out, but he looked past that and saw the greater good I could do for the First Order. He gets the glorious title of Supreme Leader and the ability to supersede anyone that questions him, but I get to make the First Order into a legacy that outshines the Empire.”

The man sitting next to you loved what he was doing. Married to his duty. Has the love of creating a great empire of his own.

“I’m sure he’s thankful, even if it just means he doesn’t have to do all of the paperwork. In my lessons of the Empire, Vader and Tarkin had a similar relationship. Maybe not as vicious as your relationship has been, but a parallel none the less. I am thankful, from what I have seen from the Supreme Leader, he is much more an intimidation tool than he is a leader.” You were being honest with the man, after all he really has only kept things from you because of Kylo’s orders.

“That he is. He is very effective in leading Stormtroopers. They gladly follow him into battle. And not just because he will kill them, but because the enemy focuses on him, and it is almost a guaranteed win if he is with them. You saw him in training, but seeing him on the battlefield is something else entirely. He becomes the human embodiment of rage and destruction. Which unfortunately can transfer back to damages on board the ship.”

“Is this what you meant by needing to ‘brace ourselves’? I understand that he is quick to anger but isn’t there something that we can do about it?”

“If I knew the answer to that m’lady I would be the richest man in the galaxy. Yes, that is partially the reason why I said it. The other reason is that any time an issue is about you, before or after he met you he becomes even more unstable, more unpredictable. I may have known him for years but I have no idea what he will be like when he gets here.”

“I see, so are you suggesting that I should be scared?”

“No, m’lady just prepared.”

“Prepared for what? You just called him unstable and unpredictable.”

“Prepared for the unexpected, occasionally and I mean rarely he surprises me. The last few times that has happened it has been about you. So just be prepared for anything.”

You didn’t know whether to find his words comforting or horrifying. You could already see that Kylo was unstable. You glanced down at your wrist, to the faded Ben Solo. You wondered if the unstableness was Kylo or Kylo’s struggle with Ben. You had seen him almost kill a man who spoke and thought ill of you. What would he do this time because you did it to yourself, accidentally but to yourself?

“I believe it is time for lunch,” said the general.

You then went about ordering and eating lunch in the dining room, not really talking about anything in particular but just light conversation. He then escorted you down the halls to the large conference room that you usually met in for your lessons. This time the room was filled with generals and admirals and holograms of generals and admirals. You took a seat next to Hux, who was sitting across the table from Pryde. Phasma was on guard in the corner of the room in her silver armored glory. You wondered when would be the best time to apologize.

“As you all know the Supreme Leader will be here in a matter of minutes. He will give us the rundown on his mission, and maybe his next plans. He is currently not in the best of moods so brace yourselves. Everyone,” said Hux.

The room went about idle chatter for a few moments before you heard loud footsteps coming down the hall, and some screaming too. If the door had hinges you would have guessed that it would have slammed open. He stalked in with the Knights of Ren filling in the back of the room along with Commander Pyre.

You saw Ap’lek eye Phasma up and down with hostility, almost assessing whether or not he could take here out now. But he then turned to face the Kylo on the other side of the room. You could see Phasma’s body language change, she was now ready for an attack.

Your attention quickly shifted to Kylo, who seemed to refrain himself from slamming his palms on the table, but just barely. His clothes were slightly singed in various places, he and the knights seemed to have some light mud on them as well. They look as if they have come straight off the battlefield, Pyre even had scuffs on his gold armor.

“Skywalker is dead.”

There was malice in his voice. You could sense the anger and hostility that radiated off of him in dark waves. His own personal storm cloud.

The other generals and admirals around you lifted their heads in what seemed to be acknowledgment and relief.

A balding general whom you have never seen before spoke up, “And what of the scavenger?”

In an instant, he was on the ceiling choking. His chair had been thrown back and clattered to the ground. He was crying out, gasping for air.

Kylo’s head turned quickly to you, assessing you. He moved swiftly from the front of the room and grabbed you by the arm pulling you up and out of the room. He was grabbing your arm so tightly you were sure that it was going to bruise. He did not stop until you were both in your chambers.

You were scared.

“I have half a mind to kill her.” The helmet was still on.

You were confused, “to kill who.”

“Phasma, you were under her care and she let it happen.” He then abruptly took the helmet on and backed you into a corner. “Why did you do it? Are you that unhappy with me?” His voice was still laced and stitched with anger.

You were frozen in fear.

His eyes were almost black. You could literally feel the anger that was radiating off of him in the electricity in the air. Or was it the Force that you were feeling?

His hand slammed into the wall next to you. “Answer me!” He was yelling, his voice dripping with fury and rage.

You thought you were going to die.

His other hand hooked itself under your chin and yanked your face upwards while he stood over you menacingly.

No, you knew you were going to die.

You trembled out, “It was an accident, I didn’t mean to.” Your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were wide in fear.

“What do you mean it was an accident? How could it have been an accident?” He was still yelling.

“I wanted them to stop.”

“What to stop?” He was a tiny bit calmer.

“The lights.”

“What lights.”

“The lights I saw every time I closed my eyes since you have been gone.”

His face shifted slightly, you could see the concern start to brew in the cauldron of his eyes. “What did these lights look like?”

“They were red and blue and they were fighting. Every time I closed my eyes I could see them.”

The hand that was under your chin shifted to caress the side of your face. “Tell me more.”

“There was also an ocean, I don’t know where it was but it was big. I haven’t been able to really sleep since you have been gone.”

“All you wanted was for them to stop, and you didn’t realize what was happening?”

“Yes, and Phasma saved me. I had ordered her to stay away from me. I wanted to be alone.”

The hand then shifted down to your neck. It rested there. “Why did you want to be alone?”

“I feel like a songbird in a cage here. People constantly telling me what to do, say and think. I am watched 24/7. You give them orders to tell me, without telling me anything. I wanted to be free, if only for a few minutes.”

The hand shifted back up to your face, his thumb ran over your lips. “You are a beautiful songbird Kitten.” He then drew you in and kissed you. You missed this, oh how you missed this.

When you broke apart, “but kisses won’t fix this.”

“No, but they can try.” He leaned back in to kiss you. Pushing you into the wall, eventually, his kisses started to roam down to your neck, “no, but they can try.”

[hamliet]

Time to G(r)o(w)

So since I recently finished season 2 of The Umbrella Academy, let’s talk ships. Every sibling except for Five had some semblance of a love story this season, however it ended for the characters, that was instrumental in their development from children (last season) to adolescence (this season). All the relationships can be said to foil each other in certain ways, but in particular they seemed to be paired in how they ended:

Dave/Klaus and Jill/Ben, which end in disappointment;

Ray/Allison and Sissy/Vanya, which end bittersweet; and

Allison/Luther and Lila/Diego, which don’t end so much as they leave open the door to possibilities.

I. Dave and Klaus + Jill and Ben

On a surface level, both of these ships are linked and doomed by death and an illusion of who one person is.

It’s not so much that the person is “wrong” for any of these characters so much as it is that their perception of each other dooms these relationships. Klaus is fixated on a version of Dave he met in Vietnam, not on whom Dave is now. Even when Dave tries to connect with Klaus, going out of his way to apologize to Klaus for punching him and clearly seeing something attractive in him, Klaus ruins it by terrifying the kid because he can’t see Dave beyond Dave’s death. It’s reminiscent of Klaus’s flaws in being unable to let anything and anyone go, but he isn’t holding onto Dave so much as he’s holding on to losing Dave. Thus he’s unable to form a genuine connection with Dave in this timeline, though perhaps Dave will survive (who knows?), Klaus leaves this timeline under the impression that he’s unable to save Dave.

Similarly, Jill and Ben never get anywhere because Ben is, well, literally dead, but also because Jill has an incorrect idea of whom Ben is: she thinks he’s Klaus. But Ben truly wants to be known as Ben, insisting on telling her that he’s actually Ben, a ghost possessing Klaus, and that he’s a virgin. However, Jill doesn’t understand, because she just sees the ideal of Klaus as her cult leader. She’s eager to sleep with him, but it’s not Ben she wants to connect with. Ben, ironically, crushes on Jill because of the way she acts and the little behaviors she engages in—the real her, perhaps, but she can’t see the dead in the living. Ben can’t resurrect her from the cult, and she can’t resurrect him.

In the end, both Klaus and Ben need to stop focusing on the people they cannot save and focus on the ones they can. Only by letting go can they truly move forward. This is a motif in their relationship, which the show directly addresses. 

There’s an extent to which both Dave and Jill represent childlike versions of themselves, and how both Klaus and Ben go about addressing their love interest is childish: Klaus comes on too strong and freaks Dave out, and Ben pines for Jill despite never talking to her until they’re about to leave, because then whatever happens, he won’t have to think about the consequences of it. Jill in particular is a symbol for Ben’s desire to stay on earth, to live, to be unable to consider after (mirroring of course his inability to move on after death), while Klaus is too focused on after and not so much on meeting people in the present, allowing people to get to know him in the present. He doesn’t even want to get to know himself, as seen by him dulling his pain through drinking and drugs. 

However, by the end of the season, both have made important progress: Klaus is the first one to volunteer to help Vanya, inspiring his siblings to do so, and Ben moves into the afterlife. Ish. 

II. Ray and Allison + Sissy and Vanya

Both of these relationships are positive and end with mutual love acknowledged, but also an understanding that they cannot be together. On a surface level, both relationships explore systemic injustice rampant in the 1960s (racism for Allison and Ray; sexism, homophobia, and ableism for Vanya and Sissy). Thematically, they are connected by the need to struggle and the focus on self-actualization.

Allison sums up the overall message of these relationships in the end when she tells Ray that the struggle isn’t over. Both these relationships require both parties to fight to preserve them, and to fight for better futures, which is something Allison and Vanya both need to learn to do, rather than continuing to stagnate. They need to fight, and they need to trust themselves to be able to do so. Thus, the reconciliations between Ray and Allison and Vanya and Sissy are in essence symbolic of Allison and Vanya coming to terms with something about themselves.

Both Allison and Vanya hid parts of themselves both this season and the last, and in this season, they hide their powers particularly from Ray and Sissy, respectively. However, both use their powers in desperate moments to save loved ones: Allison to save Ray from a violent cop, Vanya to save Harlan after he drowns. Allison cannot forgive herself for using her power on her daughter, while Vanya struggles to move past causing the apocalypse.

However, even after seeing their powers at their worst, the women at their cruelest (the diner scene and the ending battle), both Ray and Sissy choose to love Allison and Vanya respectively anyways. 

Both Allison and Vanya beg their respective love interests to come with them to the future, to “be a family,” as Vanya says, but in the end Ray and Sissy are unable to leave their time. They have to continue the fight where they’re at, but both Ray and Sissy’s acceptance of Allison and Vanya clears the path for them to move on, to continue the struggles in their own time, because they showed Allison and Vanya that they do not have to fear who they are, nor their powers. Sissy is clear she simply can’t risk Harlan, and Ray delights in Allison’s power (not in a negative way). It’s the world they’re afraid of that makes them unable to come along, a world they need to struggle in. 

III. Allison and Luther + Lila and Diego

Both Allison/Luther and Lila/Diego are mutually loving, yet inhibited by fear and things unsaid, things that they start to overcome by the end of the season. Thus, these are the two relationships heading out of adolescence and into adulthood symbolically speaking.

Luther has never even kissed Allison, according to her, in two timelines now, though he rectifies it later on (sort of). He’s distraught when Allison turns out to be married, but he doesn’t actually ever make a move when Allison clearly desires love and intimacy. Luther’s inability to see past the role his father set out for him makes him his own worst enemy. He also struggles to be an adult, as shown in his horror at Allison’s marriage and the fact that she’s, well, his childhood crush. 

Diego isn’t much better. He might break the law and make it his goal to stop and even kill their father, while Luther stays loyal to him (at first), but he’s actually still very much living the life Reginald would have wanted for him: fighting crime. Just because Diego chooses his own missions doesn’t mean he’s not following his father’s script. Like Luther, Diego is actually a small boy hurting inside, which Lila directly calls him at one point and which the dinner scene, in which Diego reverts back to stuttering, reinforces.

However, both of these relationships lead to life in the end. Allison is essentially choking to death, and Luther uses CPR on her (thereby “kissing” her), restoring life to Allison. It reverses last season’s ending, when Luther saved Allison’s life but not her voice, and echoes Ray helping Allison heal and rediscover her voice. It tells Allison that even if she has to leave Ray to get back to her daughter Claire, there is a future, and Luther can help her breathe and get her voice back, too.

In the same scene, we have Lila and Diego confronting each other—actually, Lila confronts the entire Umbrella Academy. In Diego, she sees that she, too, has been a small child still huddling in a crawl-space and clinging to the woman who rescued her. He points out that she’s living the life the Handler wrote for her, but she’s now an adult and can make her own choices. When Diego tells her they can be her family, she believes him and takes him up on it—well, after they’re all dead and dying and before Five reverses the timeline. In the new timeline, Lila doesn’t accept this realization/offer just yet, but she does flee with a timecase, thereby taking the pen to her own story. Additionally, Diego insists they let her go, directly stating that this is because he loves her--an adult thing to do. In contrast with last season’s tragic relationship with Patch, Diego is able to acknowledge how he feels before it is too late, and Lila is able to bring that out of him with her unabashed way of asking for and going after what she wants. Lila having the briefcase and being one of the other superpower children makes it likely she will return, and therefore there is the notion of possibility in their relationship moving forward. 

[alltheloveinthegalaxy]

Prompt: Rey and Ben say ‘I love you’ for the first time

Something to Celebrate

Hours after Rey and Ben BOTH survive the battle of Exegol…

Ajan Koss, 10:53 p.m. 

The crackle of a giant bonfire and the symphony of celebratory voices fill the the scavenger-turned-Jedi’s ears as she sits beside her comrades. The glow of the fire illuminates dozens of rosy cheeks and glassy eyes as they celebrate the greatest victory the Resistance has ever known — winning the war, defeating darkness and destroying the Final Order. 

Finn and Poe sit on either side of Rey, the hero of the resistance and now a Jedi legend. 

“And the way you led that charge! Oh man, those creatures could really move,” Poe said, on the edge of slurring his words as he takes another sip of Correlian whiskey. “And Jannah! She’s a looker huh…”

“Poe C’mon,” Finn retorts with an arched eyebrow that only Poe could interpret. 

“I’m just saying…” Poe says, handing the bottle to Rey, who takes the smallest sip, winces and passes it to Finn.

“Are you all right?” Finn asks, setting hand on her knee. Poe eyes the interaction and moves to stand.

“Uh, I’ll be back, I’m gonna find Chewie.” 

Rey’s eyes dart to Finn’s hand on her knee. Her cheeks flush.

“I’m fine Finn. I’m just tired is all.”

Finn inches closer, their thighs touching. He leans in. She can smell the whiskey on his breath as she stares into his sweet, caring eyes. 

Oh kriff.

But before he can make his move, Rey is on her feet. A twinge of guilt seizes her for a moment. 

“I- I just really need to get some rest,” She reasons, patting Finn on the shoulder.

“Oh. Yeah…okay yeah I understand,” Finn says, trying to make the best of an awkward situation. 

“Goodnight Finn,” Rey smiles and walks through the crowd, beelining to her tent. Resistance pilots cheer for her and pat her on the back as she walks by. She nods politely to thank them. But she just cannot wait to get away from them all.

Yes, the war is over. But she’s still fighting her own battle. She’s still keeping secrets from her friends, her new family. Just hours earlier, she’d carried a very injured, very heavy, very redeemed, Ben Solo over her shoulders, back to her tent. She’d somehow managed to sneak him, unconscious and with a broken leg, straight from Luke’s X-Wing, to her tent.  

She ignited her lightsaber to light her way through the trees as she walked hastily back to her fort, which sat farther away from everyone else’s. She’d made a corner of the forest her own and purposely secluded herself in the months she’d spent on this planet training, perhaps in anticipation of this very moment. 

She began to feel slightly nervous as she drew closer to the tent. Would he be awake now? What would they talk about? Will he be in a lot of pain? Did she look okay? 

Rey took a sip from her water canteen, attempting to dilute her whiskey breath.

She can’t believe he’s finally here with her. No fighting, no war, no darkness — just them now. What would it be like? How would they keep this secret? 

Her mind continued to race as she approached the tent. The clearing in the forest allowed the planet’s full moon to illuminate the area as she extinguished her saber. She could see the shape of him inside on her cot, his chest rising and falling.

Still breathing, thank Force.

Before entering, she attempts to steady herself by drawing in a long, slow breath.

I can do this. I can do this.

As she enters, she finds him there, right where she left him.

She approaches him with caution, as not to startle him. She can sense that he is awake, but his eyes are closed as he lays on his back, hands folded neatly below his rib cage. 

“Ben…” Rey whispers as she kneels beside him, at a safe distance but close enough to touch. Her eyes dart to the cut on his lips and her mind races back to the passionate kiss they had shared on Exegol, just moments before he collapsed and lost conciousness. They hadn’t spoken since. 

His eyes open to meet hers. He blinks softly and slowly as his lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile.

“Rey,” he whispers after a few seconds. She slides both of her hands into his, resting them on his chest. Ben feels her start to tremble. Tears begin to well up in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Ben murmurs weakly as his brow furrows.

Ben let go of one of her hands to touch her face, wiping a dirt tinged tear from her jaw.

She grabbed his large hand and pressed it against her cheek, sobbing into it like a small child.

“Hey,” Ben says softly. “It’s just us now.”

Rey chokes out a laugh, simultaneously beginning to sob more profusely.

“I just- I’m just so happy,” she sniffs.

He smiles, looking up at her. She was everything to him. The hum of mutual elation between them in the Force is something Ben never thought he could win. But he had.

They had finally won, and nothing else mattered.

Weaving his hand across her cheek and in between her frayed buns, he pulls her down to him, rising to meet her halfway. Their lips meet for the second time in reality, but for the millionth time in all of eternity. 

The dyadic reign of their love story, was just beginning.

Rey finds herself placing more weight on him then she’d meant to as she kisses him fervently.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- did I hurt you?” She asks as she pulls away.

“I’m fine Rey,” he says with a gentle tone that melts her core into jelly. 

She swallows and nods. 

“You’re really not though.”

Rey clears her throat and straightens her posture, sitting up and reaching for a cloth behind her. Soaking it with the water in her canteen, she turns back toward the very large man, taking up most of her tent. She blushes at this.

“Let me clean you up,” she offers, gesturing with the cloth.

Ben nods, looking up at her obediently. He swallows nervously as she begins to wipe the blood from the gash on his temple. He makes a face at the sting of water on the wound. 

“I know. It hurts but I want to take care of you.” Rey cracks a shy smile. Her heart swells being so close to him like this and feeling the warmth of his cheek against her hand.

“So, I was thinking that I’ll need to get to Tatooine to fulfill Luke and Leia’s last wishes to bury their lightsabers. I will need to fuel up in the morning but after that I’ll be going. I- I don’t know if you would want to come with me necessarily…I- I mean I want you to…but I could just get you to the next system to-”

“Rey.” He says firmly, catching her wrist before she could come at his wounds again. She looks stunned.

“I love you,” he says in a serious tone as his voice cracks. He looks almost fearful as he studies her face and anticipates her reaction. “We go together.”

Rey pauses for a second before a giant grin marches across her face, one that nearly knocks the wind out of him.

She presses her lips against his once more before burying her face in his neck as he receives her in his arms. His eyes close and he himself begins to cry against her hair.

“I know,” she whispers into his ear, tears rolling off her nose into his hair. “Ben, I love you too.”

—

[dotthings]

Heavily cluttered, as many Bucklemming eps are, but worth the trip. There was a lot of goodness in 15.08 and there were two moments where I shrieked out loud.

My two out loud-shriek moments, let’s get that out of the way: 

Queen Rowena. Caaaaalled it.

Dean and Cas are going back??? To???? Purgatory???? Together?????? And Bobo???? Is???? Writing the episode???????????? *SHRIEKING AND FLAILING*

Okay more orderly and sedate now. Eileen is so damn fierce. She’s a very physical fighter, she’s smart but seems to use a blunt fighting skill. She can punch HARD. I love watching that so so much. I would enjoy female characters on SPN like this regardless, but the fact that this is a hero character with a disability and it’s never a big deal is deeply refreshing and SPN did something really really right bringing her back, amen.

Protective Sam shows up and Eileen is happy to see him but literally pushes him aside so she can make the kill. She doesn’t need his protection, but she also values him as a hunting partner as the ep shows. Also they’re trying to build a relationship here. Eileen seems used to hunting solo and Sam wants to offer backup, and he got worried. 

So the plan is to lock up Chuck like Chuck locked up Amara. The sweet irony of this delights me. He tried to shut away the divine feminine rather than actually stepping up to deal with his sister as, well, a person (well, a divine deity, but still, a being with feelings and thoughts and complexities). Chuck, the arrogant and narcissistic toxic masculinity God, maybe to be locked up now instead as his hubris and his lack of empathy and his petulance is exposed. What if Amara was the more competent deity all along? 

There is no way Dean doesn’t know what an Achilles’ heel is. The random WTF of this is so much it’s not even angering it’s just so bizarre. LOL what even. Look I am really enjoying S15 but I hope the butterfly net tightens on stopping this kind of thing because honestly. I’ll just pretend that scene isn’t there. Luckily I enjoyed the episode overall a lot.

Team Free Will in research mode together in the bunker just really makes me happy. Cas is where he belongs.

Donatello!Chuck threatening Jody, Donna, Eileen, “pretty much everyone on your speed dial” as a deterrent to Sam and Dean is bearing out again my impressions of how Chuck views these characters. I’m still not 100% sure what he thinks of Cas who is right in the room but Chuck doesn’t seem to acknowledge him, except as some sort of right arm to Sam and Dean, as I’ve said in other posts, I think Chuck regards him as a nuisance now, and a deterrent to his miserable endings, and a pawn. Just like Donna, Jody, and Eileen, to him, they’re just pawns. They’re all people Sam and Dean care about, and Chuck will use them to keep his two favorites in line.

See what I did there?

Yeah. Chuck doesn’t care about the characters as people. Everyone except Sam and Dean are expendable and tools to be used so he can control Sam and Dean and that’s it. He’ll destroy them with a snap of his fingers and won’t care. Look at that. Familiar attitude, isn’t it. How interesting.

“If you want to stay here, stay here.” Dean’s gone back to not!listening to Cas I see. While Cas is Dean-avoidant and trying not to look at him throughout the episode. But both of them are thawing just a little.

Like when Cas heals Dean’s cut palm and the way it’s staged looks like he’s going to take Dean’s hand to do it which I don’t think is an accident. That moment was meant to be soft.  Dean didn’t ask. Cas offered. And Dean didn’t jerk his hand away or say no. Then there’s the fact that Cas is going to go with Sam and Dean into Hell despite all his misgivings about Michael and this entire plan. 

Team Free Will, getting all researchy together, and then getting all BAMFY together with their angel blades going into Hell.

We didn’t get any kind of nod back to Dean and Cas’s last visit together to Hell and that’s the second time they have been back to Hell (well the last time was some sort of Hell ante-room, the cage was brought up iirc) and SPN failed to nod to it, WHY AM I CONTINUALLY DENIED THIS.

“Hello, boys.” There it is. My actual shriek of delight. I hope it didn’t alarm the neighbors.

“I took it.”  Yes you did, my red-headed goddess queen of the underworld. You sure did. GET IT ROWENA. Rowena won the game of thrones. Boom.

She’s a little flirty with Sam, still has a soft spot for him I think. 

And then starts playing marriage counselor for Dean and Cas. “What am I picking up with you two? A wee tiff?....So fix it.” Someone called this, I’m fairly certain, that if Rowena saw Dean and Cas again during their divorce she’d size that situation up and down and comment on it. FIX IT. So say we all.

“Family sucks.” Jake Abel did such a fantastic job in this. tbh I didn’t give much thought to Adam all these years, it seemed like SPN was never going back there. I liked Jake’s performances in S5, but it just seemed like a story that was over. But Jake Abel, man. He comes back after all this time and owns the dual roles and made me care. With a performance that was alternately fearsome and vulnerable. 

“That’s adorable.” Dean is SO happy about Sam and Eileen, he looked so soft, and still a bit not okay because his chosen other half is barely looking at him, but mostly Dean’s rooting for Sam to have some happiness. “If it was to work, she gets it, she gets us, she gets the life.” It’s a retreated on Sam’s speech back during “Baby” about someone...something...who understands the life. And Sam has found that with Eileen.

Meanwhile Cas is right there, with Dean, with this great big chasm still open between them but...he’s there. And all the arrows point towards him for Dean. 

Dean and Cas are being magnets again. Not like in S14 where every time there is a crisis they stand very close together and are drawn together, now they’re like magnets that are trying not to feel the pull but they cannot escape each other’s pull nor do they really want to, but they can’t quite figure out how to cross the distance. 

There’s more than one scene where Dean or Cas is out of focus and the other in focus, as if to emphasize how they’re both there but not in phase with each other. Not yet.

I so enjoyed the Cas and Michael stuff. Cas’s prayer to Michael, Michael’s mad on for Cas. “Oh, I didn’t come to beg.” And there’s the ruthless strategic angel.

There’s also something really...fitting about Sam and Dean and Cas all being the ones standing outside the ring of holy fire together to trap an archangel who they effectively hope to bring in from the cold, to their side, in a post S6 era of the show. 

“To paraphrase a friend you had an entire oak tree shoved up your ass.” I see Cas is still quoting Dean, having Dean as a compass point or a North star. Even if he can barely look at Dean right now.

Cas telling Michael his unimportance to God and keeping the upper hand is just...so satisfying. Cas has grown so much. I keep thinking about S5 Cas and how despite how powerful Cas was back then, radiating power in ways he doesn’t quite do the same way now, Cas always seemed so...smol next to the archangels. Punching above his weight class. But now he faces down Michael and tells Michael rawly how it is with their dad Chuck. And when Michael tries to choke him, he fights past it and goes into Michael’s mind to show him everything, to help him see the truth. Cas has grown so much, this felt a lot like a little brother constantly picked on leaves home, grows, and comes back to find big, big brother isn’t quite as big and intimidating as he remembers. 

Which in fact he isn’t, because Michael is capable of insight and change and feelings too. He’s not his father. Despite being the favorite. Despite clinging still to his hero-worship. But Cas worked past that with Chuck long ago.

When Eileen’s friend needs help on a hunt, and Eileen goes to Sam, Sam goes with her, no doubts. Tells Dean he’s going, as Dean recounts to Cas, and Dean seems cool with it. 

Sam and Eileen seem to be growing closer and closer, and while there is something tentative about Sam, he definitely is drawn to her and cares. That tentativeness is from past hurt and loss and maybe he’s scared to enter into this kind of relationship. But they’ve got their own magnetic pull together, they fit. 

Dean and Cas facing each other in that bunker kitchen, the lighting darker and colder than usual. They’re facing each other, and each shift in and out of camera focus, not looking at each other much. Cas can’t look at Dean at all in this scene, while Dean keeps sneaking glances at Cas. In other scenes, Cas does sneak looks at Dean. They are ridiculous and my heart hurts. The blocking here is them facing each other only not--they are a few feet off, so looking past each other.

Cas sitting at that table, hands folded, staring straight ahead and working very hard obviously to Not Look at Dean. 

Dean’s reaction on Cas reporting the words Michael said, “I want you dead, get out.” The things Dean has said to Cas are coming back to haunt him, coming from the words of their once mortal enemy, that’s gotta sting.

Both Dean and Cas have some work to do here, but Dean definitely is already very aware his own words went too far, and has been for a while. 

“God lied to me. I loved him.” Oh wow that hurt, I didn’t expect these feelings. 

A thing about Adam and Michael, both feeling so abandoned by their families, and losing everyone. They offered support to each other. They worked out a time-share in Adam’s body. We’ve seen genuine vessel and angel bonds form before (in Lily Sunder). There’s also a S7 episode by Ben Edlund about the bond between a human and the demon who possessed him. Not sure how healthy Adam and Michael are, but they seem weirdly functional, and don’t despise each other and I kind of have some feelings about Adam and Michael bonding the way they did in The Cage. Perhaps Michael shielded Adam from the worst of it. It’s how Adam is coherent after being down there for so long. Maybe Adam made Michael less lonely. Did I ASK for feelings about Adam and Michael, no I did nOT and yet here we are.

Then there’s Adam. It was interesting that scene where Sam acknowledges maybe they gave up too easily. Because Sam and Dean refuse to accept it when it’s each other they lose, and have gone way over the line to get the other one back. Here Sam is admitting that it shouldn’t be just for them. That Adam was worth saving. Even though they don’t know him well, he still didn’t deserve what happened (as Dean acknowledges at the end of the ep). And Sam and Dean never mentioning him again or giving him another thought apparently, all these seasons...well, that kind of made me assume that was that. Just because someone is blood, doesn’t make you family and they barely knew Adam. 

But if it’s someone who could potentially earn that? Someone basically good? And they just...forgot about him and left him to his torment in Hell? So this did need addressing. There’s not much time to develop a relationship with Adam and TFW this late in the game but there was a start here. 

Dean likewise offers his apology to Adam at the end. “You’re a good man. You didn’t deserve that.”

Right when I was thinking, so many of them don’t get what they deserve, they just keep getting Hell heaped on their heads, Adam says “Since when do we get what we deserve.”

There’s a subtle thing there where Adam looks at Cas, Cas very pointedly still tries to be not looking at Dean, and after Adam leaves Dean turns to Cas looking so...sorrowful for a moment. I keep saying, Dean and Cas deserve each other, and right now they can’t figure how to have each other. 

But Michael left them a strange gift. The Leviathan flower, to seal away Chuck, but the gift has a double meaning (unintentionally on Michael’s part). It’s not just the tool to shut away the villain, Michael opens a door to Purgatory and boom just like that, opens up a whole doorway on Dean and Cas’s story because of the emotional significance of Purgatory for them. What they had there. What happened there. The way that place broke loose some of their feelings. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now, if they both go, as the promo glimpses seem to suggest, does one return and the other gets trapped? Is Dean’s prayer to Cas going to be inside Purgatory, is Cas also still in Purgatory and they get separated? Is being thrown together back into that environment going to help them heal? Or will they be torn apart again but that provides another route to reconciliation?

[ariainstars]

Skywalker Men - The „X“ Factor in the Equation

Recently I have heard and read quite a few interpretations of the Star Wars sequels; and regarding its conclusion, there seem to be two major theories.

1.  Kylo Ren will pay for what he did and end in a terrible way, making the way free for Rey as the heroine who will save the galaxy, and who maybe also will turn out to be a Skywalker / Solo / Kenobi after all. 2.  Kylo will be Ben Solo again and Rey will be the one who brings him back to the light.

But we know that this is the Skywalker saga. As Luke himself said, “This is not going to go the way you think.”

The two above-mentioned developments are, each in its own way, the most logical and straightforward ones, depending on whether you see the protagonist as Kylo Ren the villain due to his crimes, or as Ben Solo the hero undercover / the victim due to his uncle’s betrayal and Snoke’s manipulation.

But when you are dealing with a Skywalker, you can be certain only of one thing: the unexpected. Because the Skywalker is always the X factor in the equation.

Every Skywalker man is a hot emotional mess. Their impulsiveness is one of the major factors of the saga, urging the plot on. And that’s not wrong in itself: if they make a spontaneous decision reaching out to someone, it turns to be the right thing in the end. It’s when they make things only about themselves that they fail. 

With characters like Obi-Wan, Yoda, Han or Leia to name a few, you usually know where you’re at. Their personalities are well-defined and you can foresee what they will do from a mile away. Han sometimes is spontaneous too, but his actions are dictated by slyness, not by rushed emotions. Being Anakin’s daughter, Leia is hot-headed too, but due to having been raised a princess even if she takes sudden action, she never loses her sense of responsibility and always thinks of the common good.

With a Skywalker, you are definitively always in for surprises. They often don’t do what they are expected to do, whether from us viewers or from the characters around them. 

Skywalkers usually do not explain or justify themselves. They do not speak about these spontaneous acts, which leads both viewers and the figures around them wonder about their motivations and to judge them, depending on whether we or they see them as the heroes or the villains (or, occasionally, as the fools) of the story.

Prequels

Anakin Skywalker’s very existence is a mystery. He is the most powerful Jedi of all and comes from the humblest beginnings. His mother is not even aware of how she got pregnant with him.

It is 9-year-old Anakin who brings the Naboo Battle to a closure, destroying the droid’s control station which was orbiting the planet. All he did was to “stay in the cockpit”.

On his mother’s death, Anakin lashes out for the first time. His anger and grief are understandable, however it is as terrible as it is unexpected that it will push him so far as to kill the entire tusken village.

Knowing the original story we were of course aware that Anakin would marry Padmé; however to the Jedi, this was unthinkable because they would never have guessed that a Jedi would dare to oppose their strict code. Even Obi-Wan did not know for years, until on realizing that Padmé was pregnant he finally put two and two together.

Anakin’s marriage may seem foolish, immoral or romantic depending on your point of view. In any case, it’s crucially important because without this marriage, the two children who will later bring down the Empire would not have been born.

Again, as viewers we did know that Anakin would turn to the Sith. But the Jedi did not see it coming and they could not stop him. Obi-Wan was shocked on finding out that the one who had killed the Jedi younglings was indeed his former apprentice, saying over and over to Yoda that he could not believe it.

On Mustafar, Padmé almost succeeded in convincing Anakin to leave everything behind him and come back with her. It is interesting that she still had the power to do that (thus proving that there still was good in him) despite the horrible things he had done.

Would Obi-Wan have suspected that Anakin would survive Mustafar, a quadruple amputee burning in the lava? Assuredly not. That’s why he left him behind. We can only imagine his reaction on finding out that Lord Vader, Palpatine’s right hand and the scourge of the galaxy, had been built from Anakin’s miserable remainders.

 Classics

Luke proves right away to be a true Skywalker when he learns that Leia is about to be executed. He is in terrible danger on an unknown space station and he has never met the girl in person, but he immediately feels that he has to rescue her.

Darth Vader is Moff Tarkin’s subordinate. But the suggestion to let the rebels leave the Death Star in order to track them down comes from him - a risky tactic that proves to be fatal. Not being a Skywalker, Tarkin would certainly never have come up with such an unexpected idea.

Despite the protests of both his mentors, Luke rushes to Bespine because he feels Han’s and Leia’s distress. To Obi-Wan and Yoda, both straightforward characters, the obvious thing for him to do would be to stay on Dagobah and complete his training. But as usual, Luke follows his heart.

The probably most unexpected plot twist in movie history: “I am your father.”

Not only is the fact in itself totally unpredicted, it’s that Vader does tell Luke at all, in an attempt to keep his son with him. Knowing the truth, Luke can no longer hate Vader. From this moment on, he is lost to the Dark Side.

When the Falcon first escapes, Vader does what everybody would have expected him to do: he chokes captain Needa to death. On its second escape, he just exits the bridge wordlessly. The encounter with his son seems to have shaken him more than he thought.

Why is Return of the Jedi the quintessential Skywalker film, the peak of the classic trilogy? Because so many things happen that no one would have foreseen.

Luke tries to solve matters with Jabba the Hutt diplomatically. Any kick-ass action hero would have entered his cave showing his strength and skills right from the start. Luke only grabs his light sabre at the very last moment.

Darth Vader, the cold-blooded killer, the most iconic villain, is still salvageable? “There is still good in him, Leia.” No one but his son could have realized this unexpected truth.

A decision that is controversial in the eyes of many fans to this day: Luke’s decision to give up fighting.

Palpatine has done his utmost to corrupt Luke, trying over and over to create enmity between father and son. Luke refuses to be separated from his father once more: he proclaims himself to be a Jedi “like my father before me.”

His loyalty is ultimately what brings the Empire down.

Although it costs him his life, Vader destroys Palpatine in order to rescue his son - another spontaneous decision taken at the very last moment, so unexpected that even Palpatine, who knew him so well and for so long, did not see it coming.

Sequels

Adult Luke is normally a calm and self-controlled person. But on sensing his nephew’s power, he is overwhelmed by a sudden moment of panic, and he draws his light sabre because he fears the loss of everything he loves.

Kylo Ren has no qualms killing innocents and torturing prisoners. But as he interrogates Rey, he is surprisingly gentle.

We see Kylo interact with Han on the bridge: his words to Snoke “He means nothing to me” were obviously false, he does feel something for his father. Yet he commits the patricide. He does the unthinkable, believing in Snoke’s words that this will finally end the conflict inside of him pushing him to the Dark Side for good.

Kylo would have had the opportunity to kill both Finn and Rey who are untrained with the light sabre. But he only wounds Finn (despite calling him a traitor, too) and lets Rey go unscathed.

After his terrible deed, we would expect Kylo to now be the ultimate villain. But as we see his face again a few days after the patricide, he is obviously deeply traumatized.

On her visit in the cave, Rey is confronted with her loneliness. The only person who offers her companionship and empathy is the alleged villain.

Ben does not speak with Rey about his intentions. He kills Snoke when he was least expecting it, taking both Snoke and Rey entirely by surprise.

Again, surprise: Luke is not really on Crait, he’s a Force projection. He uses his nephew’s anger against him in order to save his sister and her resistance, and to end the battle on Crait without spilling one drop of blood. A move that is as cunning as it is compassionate.

After the battle, Kylo would still have the time to send someone to go after the Falcon and shoot it down. But despite his assertion to destroy everything he just remains back, crying silently.

Now about the theories for Episode IX.

Being the last of the Skywalker family Kylo Ren / Ben Solo is, again, the X factor in the saga’s equation. Like with his grandfather before him, we know too little about his background to really know what we’re at. We see the sequels more through Rey’s eyes, which is why we tend to mistake her as the protagonist; hence the above mentioned two main theories for the saga’s conclusion.

Kylo is not predictable. He will most certainly make a few decisions no one would have reckoned with. As Lor San Tekka said right from the start, he cannot deny the truth that is his family. All we can do is hope that he will act for the right reasons.

What makes everybody wonder about the Skywalker men, is the same over and over: what do they want after all?

One would expect the protagonist of an action saga, of a hero’s journey, to do what action heroes usually pursue: save the world, kill the villain, get the girl. One would expect a Jedi to always do the right thing and a villain always to do evil. It is admittedly irritating when the protagonist takes unexpected turns over and over.

Knowing the Skywalkers, what I believe they ultimately want is belonging. They are fiercely loyal, but it can literally drive them out of their minds if their loyalty is not requited. And unfortunately, their power often makes people mistrust them, using them at times, but not really requiting their services with trust and appreciation. Snoke’s downfall came due to the fact that he showed his apprentice lack of respect, a huge mistake Palpatine never made with Vader.

Anakin had to give up his mother and his wish of becoming a pilot. He did all he could to suppress his emotions in order to find belonging with the Jedi, to no avail: they never trusted him. When he feared to lose the only ones he did belong to - his wife and unborn children - he lost himself. Only when his son proclaimed his loyalty to him did he turn and find belonging again.

Ben Solo, too, originally had the wish of becoming a pilot. He did struggle to become a Jedi, but he got unsettled when his parents sent him away from home and pushed over the edge when his own uncle seemed to give up on him.

Luke is the exception because he is so deeply human, and so accepting of other people’s humanness, that people can’t help but trust him. Luke is always more a human being than a Jedi. He does employ his powers but they do not define him as a person.

So, if we try to guess how the saga will end, we must not ask ourselves what Rey will do.

Will she kill Kylo Ren, making him pay for his crimes?

Will she save him with love and forgiveness?

I don’t think that’s the right question to make. The question is: what will he do?

Kylo committing some other horrible, unpardonable crime? No actual surprise there after the patricide.

Ben helping / saving / joining Rey? No surprise there either, after all the times he reached out for her.

If the Skywalkers were not the way they are, their saga would not be half as captivating and the plot twists not half as fascinating. Who wants to follow a story where most everything goes as expected?

With a Skywalker guy, the only thing to be expected is the unexpected.

Let’s keep our hopes up and tuned.

P.S. I did write a few meta’s about my own theories for Episode IX, you may want to check them out. Yes, I know, I’m a bloody tease. Guilty as charged. 😉