#i get that they automatically think that she should stay far away - but i feel like that's not doing them or her any favors

[haechanskins]

Lose Somebody - Winter

☆ note: this is my first wlw writting ever, if you think I can improve in something or want to advice me, I'm all ears! I would really appreciate if you let a comment with your thoughts ♡

MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT

☆ genre: f!reader, smut;

☆ warnings:  kinda hate sex, toxic ex gf/fiancée, reconciliation through sex, teasing, choking, swear words, fingering, oral receiving;

☆ wc: 2.3k

click here to see the pool. ☆

It was the 30th missed call Minjeong left on your phone. You knew she was drunk again and would say things she shouldn't, just like last time. "I messed up, multiple times. You need to understand that you have to come back to me. Who will love you like I do? Who will wreck you in bed like I do? Who will even care about you? Your destiny is with me". There's no mental readiness to answer the phone; no valid reason to relive it all. You know the calls will only stop when she passes out or sleeps, so you decide to turn it off and lie down. The night seems much longer when your mind refuses to let go, surrounded by worry and dreams returning to the day it all happened...

"How many more times is this damn woman going to show up?" Minjeong shouts as your friend Giselle visits your house again. Your fiancée spent the night away without explanations, and Giselle stayed to calm you. "All that bitch wants is to take you away from me, can't you see?" Anger makes the beer bottle in Minjeong's hands fly towards the wall near you. In that moment, Minjeong realizes her mistake, even though she's far from sober, and rushes toward you. She always had jealousy issues, and you usually let it pass, but this time, the shock and fear were too much. Her touch alone was enough to make you scream and cry.

"Please, forgive me!" she says amidst tears, trying to hold your face. "Babe, please forgive me!" she continues, trying to hold your hands while you throw the ring away. She kneels, holds your arms - the last place you need to be - the last face you want to see is hers. Thursday morning, 8 am, was when it all happened. The last words you heard after walking through the door were "Slut, go be with your bitch Giselle and then tell me if she's better than me! I know I can find someone better than you.". These words echo in your mind during what should be a peaceful sleep, but you're awakened by your own voice calling your ex-fiancée's name incessantly. Should you call her? But why? To hear mockery and provocations?

A hot shower should bring some calmness. All you can think about now is a bit of tranquility. The water flowing down your body makes this feeling seem true for a moment. Walking through the apartment, you realize there's garbage to take out, and your little dog starts jumping on your legs as if asking for fresh air. "Just because I need to take out the trash, okay?" putting the small one under your arm and heading to the elevator. "Do you think I should call her, Kima?" you ask, touching the tip of the small pet's nose, and her head turns around. "She can't even answer and would disapprove" but does she miss her other mom? Thoughts consume you again until Kima gets restless and starts barking while leaving the building. You search for reasons, put her down, and check if there's something on her tiny body. Then she escapes to the automatic gate. Minjeong is leaning against it, at first, you think it might be your sleep playing tricks on you or the lack of glasses, so you start shouting for Kima to come back.

"She misses me too" the redhead shouts. "Please, let me in. I just want one last conversation." You sigh and think for a moment before opening the gate. "I'm doing this for Kima. You have 15 minutes at most!" you say, approaching the gate and opening it.

Keeping with the usual, as you reach your floor, you make coffee for both while Minjeong plays with Kima in the living room. As you sweeten the drink, your mind begins to question the decision to let her into your home, into your comfort. In a moment of distraction and vulnerability, you grab the hot iron kettle without realizing it, screaming in pain and alerting your ex, who was in the other room. "Here..." she guided you to the sink, letting cold running water flow over your hand. "Do you have burn ointment?". "In the bedroom, second door on the corridor" you answer without much thought. When you hear the doorknob turning, you scream at Minjeong to go back, but it's too late. You still have photos with her on the desk, and your steps after the unresolved breakup have been slow. Seeing her still confuses you, and your heart, whether you like it or not, beats faster.

"I found it" showing the ointment in her hands while smiling slightly. She extends her hand, waiting for yours, and applies gently. Pointing to the sofa, she asks you to sit and grabs the cups, placing them on the small coffee table. "You still have..." she begins, but you cut her off instantly, asking what she wants to talk about and why she's there. Minjeong sighs and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds, as if waiting for the words to fall from the sky into her head. "I miss you…" you continue looking while her eyes seem to search for another focus and her mouth more words. "Is that it?" she remains silent. "Then you can leave!" the girl watches you walk towards the door to send her away, but she doesn't move. "I said you can go, Minjeong." The last thing your ex-fiancée would do is leave. She managed to contact you after months, entered your house, and was in your presence. She won't leave.

"Okay" as you open the door, Minjeong closes it again, leaning over you. Not much taller, but already causing some intimidation due to the angle and proximity, she continues "Do you prefer to hear me here or in bed?" Silence hangs in the air, and the atmosphere is palpable. You want her to leave while simultaneously wanting her to touch you any way she pleases. "Sorry, didn't mean to cross boundaries. I thought we could..." she backs away from the door, trying to explain her recent behavior. But you’re faster and more eager. It's impossible to lie to your own body. A fervent and quick kiss begins, lasting for a few minutes until you both need air.

"I thought you wouldn't want to see me ever again!" "This is the last time, Kim Minjeong. This is the last time." Everything around you seems to vanish until you touch and fall, fortunately, nothing breaks on the way to the bed. "Whatever you want," you say, watching her eyes darken. Supported by your knees, facing each other, you feel your neck being squeezed. Minjeong's laughter resonates in your ears, sending a shiver down your entire body.

"If this is the last time, then I'll fuck you like the slut you are" she almost spits out each word, pushing you onto the bed and lightly biting every exposed inch of your skin. You don't resist for a minute; her words only make you crave more, yet at the same time, they ignite a sense of anger, uncertain if it's just a fetish or something serious.

"I'm the slut, and you come crawling to my door?" you move on top of her. "Not going to answer?" you question, slapping her face, and she smirks, attempting to put her hands on your waist. However, you pull them up, leaning on them, just inches away from Minjeong's mouth. "I'm not the one missing you," spreading kisses on her face. "I'm not the one begging every day to come back. Or am I?" you mock, a statement mixed with truth, both with hearts pounding and panties soaked.

"You..." she starts.

"I don't want you to speak. I want you to beg," you interrupt.

"I like your attempt to take control. It's cute. But it doesn't work with me" she retorts "but since you're here, you'll make it easier for me," she continues smiling, and your head knots for a few seconds. How did she manage to flip the situation like this?

"I won't do anything you want," running your hands through Minjeong's red hair. "Why should I?"

"Because you've always obeyed me, like a good girl." she teases.

"That's over, Minjeong."

"Over?" she laughs. "And would you spread your legs if I commanded?" she asks, pulling your hand towards her mouth, licking and sucking on the two middle fingers. "Would you take off this blouse if I told you to?" continues. You feel your body shiver and yield to each word she says. You get up from the bed, and her eyes follow you as she sits there, glancing at you. You remove your blouse and the small pajama shorts, turning around to reveal just your panties. Minjeong observes every inch of your body, running her hands from your neck to your thighs.

"Is this what you want?" 

"I want much more!" she replies, pulling you by the waist. You look down at her and give her a slap. "I wished you'd never show up here again" her eyes search for whether it's the truth or just a game. "I wished you'd disappear from my life forever" another slap. "You could find someone better so easily, and yet, here you are, begging for me," you say, sitting on her lap while speaking. "Is it cute for me to try to boss you around?" You laugh mockingly and give another slap, moving your hand down to Minjeong's neck, squeezing it. She continues to look at you with doubt, but there's nothing in you that worries about responding at this moment.

Drawing her silhouette with your hands, she shivers with every touch and sighs with every scratch where her skin is exposed. Kneeling on the rug in your room, you put your hands on her waist to find the edge of her pants, starting to pull along with her panties. Once done, you move your hands up again to take off the remaining blouse and bra. For the first time, you observe the shaky breaths coming from your old partner instead of yourself.

"Look who's the slut now. So needy and alone that you're wet for so little" one hand squeezing Minjeong's neck, while the other is wandering across her intimacy. "How many fingers do you think I can fit without even touching you?" you ask, making a pout. "Three? Already?" you pretend to insert your fingers, and her eyes close, mouth opens with a slight moan. You laugh; she opens her eyes disappointed, and mumbles.

"I want you to sit on my face" you say, lying on the bed and waiting for her, but Minjeong laughs and doesn't follow. "As I said, it's cute," she says, leaning into the space between your legs "but it doesn't work with me" she concludes, placing kisses on the inner part of your thigh, causing shivers and a soft moan to escape. Minjeong laughs and moves closer to your pussy.

Positioning herself on top of your body, she confesses several times that she felt hatred towards you for ignoring her, that she wanted to have you all the time, but you were a complete slut. That's why she was there, to show you why she should be the only one to touch your body forever.

"You're going to cooperate with me now," she said, biting your thigh "properly" she continued, placing a kiss on your clitoris, then licking your entire intimate area from top to bottom twice, watching you squirm and moan. "Hmm... so you like this, don't you?" she laughed. "Want more?" She licked again and gave another kiss.

"Please," you responded with a trembling voice.

"Please, what, my love?" she licked once more.

"Please, I need you to go down on me."

"Good girl," she replied, doing what had been asked. Then, she inserted two fingers while alternating between slow and fast sucks, murmuring, "Delicious as always," and grumbling, "You're so tasty. I love the taste you have," making your entire pussy vibrate. When the redhead noticed that you were moaning too much and holding onto her hair tightly, she stopped abruptly.

"Did you stop?" you asked desperately. "I was almost there," you grumbled.

"I want to come with you" she said, kissing up your belly and breasts, sucking a few times. "I want to feel you" she continued, immediately kissing you. She gradually pulled your hair while one hand played with your clitoris and returned to your breasts without any warning or alert. Everything seemed to make you 100% more sensitive to her touch, more needy, and addicted to that touch.

Minjeong pulled you closer "We've never tried this. Do you want to?" She pulled one of your legs up onto her thigh. You knew what she was talking about and involuntarily smiled. The only answer you could give was your own body fitting perfectly with hers; pussy against pussy. You could hardly breathe with your hearts racing amid so many moans. The only sound besides them was the wet skin-on-skin noise. "It's unbelievable how beautiful you look when you're about to cum for me" Minjeong gasps. "You're mine," she continues, grinding against you even more.

"I'm yours. I'm only yours" you say as your voice falters amid whispers and almost tears. "I'm going to—" you say, almost shouting.

"Cum in my pussy" she replies "with me" she continues, holding onto your waist even tighter, giving more and more thrust. The moans get louder, and you both hardly know where to touch—lacking hands for hair, breasts, waist, thighs, lacking voice.

You climax together. It wasn't the last time you saw Minjeong or had sex with her, but on this specific day, after everything, she stayed with you, and you slept entwined. Minjeong still believes to this day that you were in a deep sleep when she whispered "I had to lose you to realize I can't live without you... what an idiot... I hope this never happens again. I love you, y/n."

tags: @minjeongswife

[redsaurrce]

MYSTERY TO ME 1

summary . Wednesday liked mysteries, except... this one. The mystery which was you.

pairing . Wednesday x gn!reader

warning . mentions of blood, murder and kissing

MYSTERY TO ME 2

x--

You stare out of the window of your room to the endless horizon when your eyes dart to the field where Wednesday was shooting perfect arrows with Xavier. You've never known what love feels like, fair enough since every school you went to, you automatically became THE outcast. Love? Surely not something you'd have experienced.

It was bad, really. Bad when you were given judging looks, bad when you were alone in the forest standing in front of a dead body, your nails painted red, painted with the bully's blood.

For the first time that day you felt like you would lose your mind, because since then everytime someone triggered you, you would lose conscience and when you come back to your senses, you have had already killed someone. It was hard to explain, hard to believe even.

So you tried recording yourself while facing just another bully in another school and when you later on watched the camcorder, you saw a beast.. a beast which was you. Red eyes, scary aura and a murderous look.

You found out that your parents tried everything to keep their secret from you thinking that maybe if you never know, you might get out of it soon.

But truth sure comes to light one way or the other.

You thought there was no cure to this, until last night when Wednesday had told you to tag along with her to investigate the Nightshades case. You both were on your way to Xavier's shed where he kept his paintings.. rather scandalous paintings. The night was darker than usual which made you uneasy so you clung to Wednesday causing her to snap her head towards you.

"Dear Wednesday please don't slap away my hands now. It's scary you know." You gulped as you looked at the skies and then at front. Wendesday pursed her lips as she saw your scared face.

"Too bad. I should have brought Bianca instead." She said and looked forwards. You looked at her in disbelief, "Why do I remember someone saying that they even hate to breathe the same air as Bianca?" She kept quite, not because she was speechless but rather.. that was her way of rolling eyes.

"Here we are. If you don't want to come inside, you can stay here." She said as she removed your hands from her arm.

Which unexpectedly made you a little sad. You scoffed, "Isn't going inside safer than staying outside in the wild here?" You commented and walked straight inside as soon as she unlocked the door using her shenanigans until your eyes went wide looking at a monster standing right in front of you with hungry eyes.

In a span of seconds you lost your conscience only to become your beast self again but before you could encounter the monster, Wednesday came from behind attacked it.

You then saw her and the moment you tried to attack her from behind, luckily she escaped away but with a scratch in her forearm. She shouted your name, "_________ wake up! The monster's gone, it was only a painting!"

Slowly your visions became blurry and then turned to clearer. You saw Wednesday and at once ran towards her when you saw blood dripping from her forearm. "I-I'm so sorry Wednesday, I didn't want to hurt you at all." Your eyes became teary, why in the world would you attack her?

She sighed lightly, "It's just a scratch. Don't give me that look."

"I'm really sorry I didn't want to do that at all.." Your breathing became faster, "First aid.. does Xavier keep a first aid box here?" You started searching everywhere frantically but halted at once when Wednesday said, "Wait." She cocked her eyebrows, "How do you know it was you who attacked me and not the monster? As far as I know.. and if you've been honest with me, you said that you know nothing when you switch on your beast mode?"

You looked at her and then looked away to think about the same, "Wednesday I've never once lied to you.. but, ah.." You shut your eyes close as you tried to recall what happened moments ago.

"But what?" For Wednesday this looked just another mystery that increased her curiosity. Even though she liked mysteries and puzzles but this one... she's feeling different about this one.

She's feeling something else, a feeling of a parent looking at their child ride the bike for the first time. A feeling of concern. She has never felt liked this ever before, you were making her feel them.

"But I suddenly remember my name being called out! it felt like a wake up call, it felt like someone just woke me up from sleep and in my blurred vision I saw your terrified face, it was a face that a victim would make in front of the attacker, not a friend." You said and then looked straight into her eyes, "Which also brings me to the question, why didn't you counter-attack me? I clearly had harmed you."

The question felt like a dagger into Wednesday's chest, unexpectedly ofcourse, it wasn't like she had any feelings for you that your thought of her attacking you would hurt her.. right?

She looked away, "Then we clearly would have had to keep on fighting and that would waste my time. Speaking of which, we should go now."

--

When you looked outside the window, the words of Wednesday stormed your head, "She was lying, she's not the type to take blows." You murmured.

You rested your chin on the bedside, "Would things get better if I move again, I don't want to see the face Wednesday made yesterday ever again." A teardrop rolled down your cheeks.

Your parents were ridiculously rich which might explain the fact of you getting away with all sorts of murders you had committed so far. If you were to request your mother to move you again, they'd do it in a heartbeat.

"That's right, I should just leave. Wednesday deserves better friends." You said to yourself and curled yourself up in a blanket in a corner.

---

"What are you doing here Enid?" Wednesday looked through her dark long lashes at the ever so energetic and cheerful girl in front of her. "Well the thing is that ___________ texted me and said that she/he can't make it."

"Why?" She asked with her darkening gaze. "Stomach ache I was told." Enid answered. Wednesday frowned because there it was, the feeling she felt last day, she was feeling concerned.

"I see. Then let us go." She said.

After two or so hours of texting Enid requesting her to go with Wednesday in place of you, you were getting restless already. "They must be having fun going on with the investigation, well at least Enid won't harm her." You sighed deeply when you jolted up at the sudden knock on the door.

"_____________, are you inside?" That was Wednesday's voice. And even before you could think, your body reacted quickly and you opened the door immediately.

"I thought you were having stomachache.. the door opened faster."

You nervously chuckled, "Oh well, I'm better now so.. yeah. What are you here for though? How did your investigation go?" You asked while eyeing the packet in her hand.

"We didn't go to investigate. We were at the infirmary. Here take the medicine." She forwarded the packet.

You were surprised to say the least but then you contorted your eyebrows, "Two hours at the infirmary?"

She looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite tell what it meant. "You kept the track of the time?"

You stuttered, "Uh-uh yeah sort of, I had nothing to do any wa--"

Before you could finish, she spoke, "The thing is I was waiting for you but instead Enid came approximately ten minutes ago and apologized for being late because she was on date with Ajax."

You gulped, did she kept waiting that long? She could've texted- oh right, she refuses to be the slave of technology.

"Uhm.. I'm sorry." You had nothing except to apologize to her, which.. felt so shitty because since yesterday you only felt sorry towards her. And maybe a little bit of something else which you weren't sure of. It was happening to you for the first time afterall.

"Oh I'm so sorry again, you've been at my door since the starting, please come inside." You said and turned around to let her in when she grabbed your wrist. "I hate it everytime you say sorry to me. Can you please stop doing that?" You weren't sure what to say because a train of emotions just hit you, with her doing something unexpected, to her saying something unexpected.

You shook your head, "About that I'm sor- I mean I'll be careful about it."

She then looked down at the place where she had held your wrist and you too shifted your focus to that, all you wanted was to grab her hands back but at that very instant she let go off it causing you to feel a sting in your heart.

She looked up and then noticed how empty your room looked like, earlier when she had come to your room she didn't like how much stuffy your room looked like, filled with all sorts of stuffs and posters, but now, it just seemed so much emptier.

Then she spotted cardboard boxes and trunks. "What's all this? Are you moving to another room or decided to sell things on thrift shop?" She asked you while looking around.

You smiled dryly, "None. I'm just going to change schools."

She shifted her focus from your photoframe that you decided to pack later, to you at once. "Why?" She asked you, even though she tried to hide her surprise, you could sense that from the tone of her voice.

"I don't know... I just don't want to hurt anyone." You shrugged. She walked towards you and stopped once your faces were mere inches away, "Whom did you hurt? Weems?"

You chuckled, "Ugh no!" Then you seized your chuckle with a subtle but sad smile, "You." You gulped.

Wednesday liked the way you chuckled, it made her want to make that expression too. About your answer, she didn't like that.

"Then where are you planning to go?" She asked you.

"Why? Are you planning to send me letters?" You said jokingly.

"No, you said that you don't want to hurt anyone, then.. will you shifting to another school solve your problems? Will you stop killing people?"

Your blinked as you looked away. "Only if it was under my control."

"That's right. And I am sure you were sent here just to do that. To gain control over your powers. Your parents made the right decision ________, don't go." She said.

You sighed, even though you wanted to put meaning behind her 'don't go' , you knew she was saying it just for the sake of it. "I'm not saying just because I have to ______________. " You frowned, "Does your psychic abilities gives you access to people's thoughts too? And don't you try to talk me out of it when you call your own parents evil people trying to pull your strings from afar. Remember?"

She looked at you amusingly, "It's not my psychic abilities, just that your face is like an open book so easy to read. About the second part, I have no comment."

"I am not easy to read Wednesday, it's just that you know me better than everyone else."

"What?"

"What?" Oh shoot! Did you just confess like that? You cleared your throat, "Uh- uh I mean, you are good at reading people's faces. That's what I'm saying. You managed to figure out what I'm thinking when it's really hard for others to do so."

"I.. am.. not good at reading people's faces ____________." She said slowly and firmly.

"What?"You blinked.

"People call me emotionless apparently because I am not good at reading room. They throw a fit when I don't seem to get what they want to say through their expressions. I had a tough time staying close to people, that is why I prefer solitude." She answered with a stoic expression.

"I see.. but you seemed to do well in my case?" You said with a half smile.

"Which is weird.. I know, but do you know what is weirder?" She asked while folding her arms.

"What?"

"You figuring out me. I don't remember anyone understanding me as much as you do since I lack emotions." She looked down for a split second, "You bother me."

You got confused, "... like in a good way?"

She started walking towards you with steps that felt like they would leave a mark on the floor, you stumbled back and sat down on the bed while she kept decreasing the distance in front of you. "Can you read me now?" You said with a shaky voice as your breathing became faster.

She leaned closer and closer, "Yes. Do you think I want the same thing as you do?" You felt so enchanted and dazed when you looked at her lips which resembled the dark shadows lurking in the forest that night. "Yes.. I guess?" You weren't sure what you were saying but if it was an invitation for a kiss, then yes, i guess?

"You're right." And those were the words you heard before you felt her soft lips against yours. You grabbed her nape to come closer for a deeper kiss. It was so slow yet it felt electrifying, it defied Wednesday's knowledge of electricity for sure.

At that moment you felt nothing but staying beside Wednesday forever and maybe.. maybe you now have an answer as to why you returned to yourself that night when Wednesday called out to you.

Maybe Wednesday was the last piece to your puzzle, maybe she was the answer to your question and you were more than willing to search for answers with her by your side.

Because to Wednesday too, you were another mystery that intrigued her.. in a good way.

"Don't go." She breathed as you both parted for air.

"I won't." You said and tilted your head to kiss her again. You felt her smile on your lips.

Which was rare and you were in for it.

--x

This was my first Wednesday work AAHHHH how was it T_T tysm for reading luvs <;33

[thetarttfuldickhead]

It’s not until after Wembley – when it all comes crashing down but he somehow finds himself still standing, strong arms wrapped around him to hold him up – that he tells his mum the truth. About all of it: Dad reappearing in the past few years, why he left City for Lust Conquers All, what he’d been like at Richmond back when he first came there and why he’s back at Richmond now, and how it’s going and how he’s struggling but how he’s properly a part of the team again, only different this time, and better.

It comes out a rush at times, jumbled, and at times it’s faltering and halted. His mum listens in silence and her hand never leaves his head, never stops stroking his hair.

“Is this why you stopped coming round?” she asks when he finally falls silent, and what the fuck can he tell her but the truth? 

“Yeah. I didn’t… I just didn’t know what to tell you.” 

He can feel her eyes on him, but he resolutely stares down at his hands idling along the hem of her shirt. Lying to her, if mostly by omission, had made him feel all sorts of sick and twisted up inside, so he’d just stayed away. Pleaded work and too far away and busy living the life, when he’d bothered to explain himself at all. 

Mad shitty, that. He can admit that now, so he adds: “I’m sorry, mummy.” 

She doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t need to be or that it doesn’t matter, because his mum has never lied to him, but her fingers finding his wrist for a gentle squeeze is absolution.  

“I’m sorry, too,” she offers, and now his eyes snap to her face, because what. “That you had to deal with that hairy ball sack of a father again. Should have realized he’d start showing his ugly mug again once you became a star.” 

He makes a face at that. “Yeah, no. Didn’t want you to know, so.”

His mum makes a face right back at him. “That’s just being silly, love. No more lies, yeah,” she adds with a light tap to his nose, as stern as she ever gets. “You don’t need to protect me, Jamie, and you don’t ever have to lie to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I know. It was just… fucking hard. Didn’t want you to have to deal with that shit or, or not be… proud of me or whatever.”

He can feel her smile, a little sad maybe, as she presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’ll always be proud of you, my sexy baby. And no matter where you go or what you do, I’ll always love you.” 

Jamie nods against her chest, feeling a treacherous sting in his eyes. He knows that; has always known that. The first thing he ever knew about himself was that he was loved. He’d let himself forget, for a bit. 

For a while, neither of them speak. He can hear the sound of a ball irregularly hitting a wall somewhere nearby and it’s the sound of his childhood, and from the kitchen drift the noises of Simon’s latest experiement, and he’s curled up against his mum on the couch and this is home. 

“But it’s better now, at Richmond?” his mum asks eventually. “You’re doing all right?”

He lets out a long breath, just slightly shaky, and cuddles closer to her, pressing his face into her neck and letting himself relax completely into the comfort of her embrace and her familiar scent, the utter safety of it. Thinks about Sam returning his smiles now and about going out with Colin and Isaac again, leaning off of Dani’s shoulder. How Roy’s eyes no longer automatically harden whenever he enters a room. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m doing fine. Better.”

For the first time in a long time, it’s the truth.

[genericpuff]

I always enjoyed reading LO, though as of late I've gotten more critical of it and aware of the flaws in storytelling, art, pacing, etc (one can still like trash while recognizing it's trash, I guess), and it's been super weird being the only one in my friend group who's not seeing it as this perfect flawless comic anymore. Your retelling so far has been super refreshing and a joy to read, the art and character design is recognizable yet distinct and great on its own (I LOVE YOUR DIONYSUS SO MUCH HOLY CRAP HE'S SO GOOD), and like... I'm interested in where things are going! It's fun reading this! I still do enjoy LO (maybe it's the sunk cost fallacy, idk), but I'm invested in your version so much more now. So thank you for your work, it's really great :)

I know the story is focused more on H&P than the mostly cast of side characters, but are there any other myths that might get revisited as well? Eros/Psyche, maybe Ariadne since Dio is here...?

Absolutely, I say it a lot when the topic of "LO stans vs. LO critics" comes up but none of the criticism is meant to be persuasive debating, while it can be frustrating to voice our criticisms and be met with "yeah well that's just your opinion", we're also not criticizing the comic purely to convince you that it's trash, we're legit just engaging with the comic in our own way. The best way any LO fan can react to it is either to acknowledge the criticisms and move on, or not go out actively seeking the criticism in the first place if it's something that bugs them. But in the end, no one is talking about the comic in this way as a means to strong arm people into riffing on LO, we'll still be talking about it way past everyone's bedtimes regardless of whether or not you chime in and/or agree. I think a lot of people who enjoy LO have a hard time separating those two things because they love the comic so much that any criticism is automatically flagged as "they're trying to make a hater out of me". And yeah, maybe we are a little bit (because it's fun to riff on this comic and the crit community has genuinely some of the nicest and funniest and most creative people I've ever met) but for the most part it's not our goal to make you hate the comic, we can't take your enjoyment of it away from you, even if you do recognize its flaws yourself. By all means, enjoy LO if you want to, we won't try and tell you not to! Just don't think that gives you permission to tell the critics to stop criticizing because that's a double standard we just ain't gonna stand for LMAO

All that aside, I'm glad you're enjoying Rekindled! As for the other stories, I'm trying to reel in Rekindled's plot to focus solely on H x P because I feel like that's what it should have stayed as. One of Rachel's biggest mistakes IMO was when she stated she "wanted to include as many myths as possible" because it's clear it's resulted in her prioritizing low effort Google-level lip service and Marvel-esque nostalgia referencing over telling an actual cohesive story. I'm taking a lot of the additional myths that Rachel tried to do in LO and leaving them on the cutting room floor, but when Rekindled is done, I'm hoping to pick up what was discarded and do them as little side stories after the fact. I feel like that's the best way to do it especially considering so many of the myths Rachel included didn't happen until after Hades and Persephone were married (including Eros and Psyche). I'd especially love to tackle Orpheus and Eurydice, it's one of my favorite myths :) Dio x Ariadne is also one I'm hoping to tackle, though that one I'll probably work more into Rekindled itself as Dio plays a huge role in Persephone's character arc, we'll see !

[n3onstarss]

Going through something i don't want to again, so here's a lil comfort fic for myself because fuck it it's my writing.

Rottmnt Leo x reader

tw for mentions/the results of abuse (child, animal and marital), divorce, past self harm and current self harming, running away and anything similar that may fit under any of these umbrellas

sorry for the silverfish detour, i can't bring myself to get rid of it and i feel like showing how protective she can be , even against it's friends, kinda showcases how they were raised and his trauma too.

They/He/She/It pronouns for reader

---

So much was happening. Everything was wrong. I had only just returned to the house from an impromptu and anxiety filled car ride, Wendy's lemonade in hand, and already I wanted to leave again. Even just looking around the house and seeing the impacts of things gone wrong, the dents in the dog kennel from months ago and the items scattered about and abandoned, made me realize how fucked this was. I wanted out, I wanted to go find my boyfriend and let it all out to him, but I didn't want to leave my siblings or my dog or my mom behind.

But, Mom was used to me leaving without telling her by now, and if i took my sisters and the dog I'd get accused of running away again. So i left without them. The only things missing from the house were myself, my phone, and a small overnight bag. I hadnt bothered to pack a new one, just grabbing the same one I'd had in the car earlier. I left a small and frankly sloppy note on the counter that read; "Hi Mom!! sorry for such short notice, I'm gonna spend the night at April's! i would've told you earlier, but i forgot sorry! I'll be back tomorrow! call or text me when you read this and/or want updates! love you!! -[NAME]"

And with that I was out of the house. Once i started walking and realized just how quiet it was, i pulled my backpack off one shoulder and slid it under my wing so i could open it and grab my headphones. The Bluetooth headphones connected automatically and i opened Spotify to turn on Dateline. While I had my phone out, I texted Leo.

🪿[NAME]; Heyyy! would it be cool if i hung out at yours for the night?

Baby Blue 💙✨; Ofc dude!! why, couldn't stay away? 😎

🪿 [NAME]: you're so stupid 💙 but sure :) some shit came up is all. is it cool if I meet you outside the usual manhole in, like, 20 i think?

Baby Blue 💙✨; Yep! meet you thereeeee~ 💙

I turned my phone off and continued my walk. As I navigated NYC I was grateful people had more or less accepted mutants and non-humans, but couldn't help but let my mind wander to my sisters, my dog and my mom. were they okay?.. they should be, he wouldn't try shit after all that. ..but I'll text once i get to the lair. just to be safe.

I was about halfway to the lair, now that I thought about it. Our little apartment wasn't very far if you knew how to get there. I glanced around to see if anyone was nearby before backing into the alley. Once i was safely within the shadows I turned around, only to see some weird looking things in the trash. I jumped back a little, wings flared. I'd been warned about them before, but now that I see them up close the little guys are actually kinda cute. I set my bag and lemonade down slowly as i kneel, dragging my bag to face me. That caught the little buggers attention, and they all turned and hissed or glared at me. I held eye contact as I reached into the bag and withdrew some beef jerky that I'd packed in a panic earlier. I can't explain why beef jerky, but it was nearby so it went in the bag.

As the jerky bag crinkled loudly most of the little things cocked their heads, while a few even moved forwards curiously. I took out a larger piece and held it out in my palm, an offering of sorts, as i counted. there were about 9 of them. Most stopped moving, but one little one leaned forwards precariously and nipped it up between it's teeth, yanking it away and chowing down immediately. Without warning I was swarmed by them, chirping and running circles or hopping around me. They reminded me of oversized compys! i kept feeding the little guys until the bag was nearly empty, chuckling at their antics. I had been watching two play wrestle when the manhole cover screeched and slid away from it's resting place. All of the little guys scattered, except the two who had been play wrestling. The two had darted and cowered behind my back. My arms went out and my wings fluffed out to protect them and i hissed, only to find it was Donnie.

"I told you he was fine, Leo. She's right here." and with that the four scrambled out of the sewers.

"Hwhats up?" I was caught off guard a bit, but didn't have time to process.

"[NAMEEEEEEE]!" Leo practically launched himself at me, knocking me backwards in the process. The little guys had managed to scramble away in time, but were also spotted.

In the blink of an eye the four were on their feet in battle stances with their weapons drawn. The little things ran behind me again, and I took up a defensive crouching pose.

"[NAME], back away from the silverfish very.. slowly.." Raph piped up, he used his hands to try and motion me towards the group, but i didn't budge.

"[NAME], honey, baby, love of my life," those words got a resounding chorus of groans and gags from his brothers, "please move away from the silverfish?" I shook my head, a shrill hiss trying to make itself heard.

"Oh. mi gosh. did you find Silverfish! you know they're enemies right? pleasee tell me youre not attached?" Mikey finally jumped in, catching a glance at the little silverfish as he clambered up o to Raphs shoulder.

It wasn't long before the four realized I had gotten attached and wasn't going to let them get near the little guys with their weapons. Mikey was the first to give in, placing his kasari-fundo on the ground before jogging over to play with the little guys. Raph broke not long after, if only to protect Mikey, placing his tonfas in his belt and leaving me in a standoff with Donnie, the most stubborn turtle i know, and Leo, who preferred to win (which also made him the most stubborn turtle i know).

Eventually Mikey convinced them to calm down, and both relented, meandering over to look down at the little guys. I did have to see the little guys off, they couldn't come into the lair, but Mikey gave me two stickers to put on them. We dubbed them Pancakes and Thunder, after the stickers they received. both were sent off with the very last pieces of jerky and a hug. After they left I picked myself up, waved at them, and grabbed my lemonade and bag.

We made it into the lair and as soon as I had kicked off my shoes I got a call from my Mom.

"I gotta take this, I'll be right back! ..?" I spoke, awkwardly backing away as I waited for permission. Leo turned towards me and shot a quizzical look, but someone else spoke up first.

"Okay! Let us know if anything comes up!" One of them said. I think it was Raph, but I'm unsure as I turn tail and jog down the hall towards their bathroom, breaking into a full sprint and holding my wings close as my ringtone continues to chime.

I swing myself inside, narrowly avoiding slipping, falling and spilling my lemonade, flick on the light and lock the door as I throw my back against the wall, the contents of my bag digging uncomfortably into my spine and wings. I pick up the phone, clearing my throat before I speak.

"Hi Momma! what's up?" I try to keep my tone cheery and light so i don't stress her out more, swirling my lemonade in its cup as both a stim and a background noise.

"Oh nothing much. I saw your note though, tell April I said hi."

"Will do!-"

"Also, we've decided against getting a divorce." rage and sadness both reared their ugly heads, but I could deal with them later.

"WH-"

"It's his last chance. I don't want to go through that again if I can help it."

"Okay..? Is everyone okay?" I ask, tears forming and frustration leaking through and yet still masking it as best I can.

"Yes, everyone is fine. Ive got to go and finish some work stuff. Tell April and her parents I said hello and be safe, okay?"

"okay.. goodnight Mom, love you!" the defeat was audible, but she didn't pick up on it. she never did.

"love you too." the words lacked emotion or sincerity, a simple reply to placate her kid.

The click of a call ending seemed to echo through the bathroom as the waterworks started. The phone was slowly lowered as the first sob tore through me. I forced myself towards the bathroom counter to put my phone and lemonade down and made the mistake of looking in the mirror. I was a mess with a capital M. my crying had dragged my mascara a little and my feathers were a mess. I let the bag fall off my shoulders onto the floor with a dull thump and I stood for a moment more before beginning a sluggish path. I turned the light off and the little LED puck lights on. For someone who hated the color pink growing up, it was comforting and soft right now. So there I stood. in the bathroom in the dark and illuminated by only dim pink LEDs. I grabbed my phone again and plopped down inside the dry shower tub, pulling the curtain closed and resting my head back against the cold tile. it was surprisingly comforting to be in the small, confined, dim space. I made myself move one last time, shooting a text to the GC to let them know that I'd said I'd be at April's tonight and that I just needed a bit.

🪿 Bites people; Hey sorry, shit came up. I told my Mom I'd be at Apes, sorry. I need a minute but I'll be out soon. sorry!

R.A.P.H.; oksy! don't sweat it littke dude, we got it xovered!

🪿 Bites people; Raph I will bite you if you call me little. (lighthearted)

M.C. Angelo; yeah yeah, whateves [NAME]! Take your time :3

Mr. Machines; Cool. be safe.

Apes ⚾; Kay kay! I'll tell my parents you stopped by! I'm on my way rn, does anybody need anything?

R.A.P.H.; not tgat i can thimk of, no!

M.C. Angelo; OO!! marinara sauce! please!

Mr. Machines; Uranium. (Joking.)

Apes ⚾; Cool! on my way!

... Fearless Leader is typing...

I turn my phone back off and lean against the wall for another moment. The silence is too loud, it only gets louder as time goes on. Until eventually it's so loud I relent and open Spotify yet again. I disconnect the headphones around my neck and turn on a comfort podcast, Murder in America. The voices of the two hosts greet the audience as they begin to discuss.

As the podcast continues however, I can practically feel the murder talk adding to my anxiety. I can always tell im anxious when my thoughts turn to all the ways someone could die, and this only serves to make it worse. So, the podcast gets turned off and a playlist starts instead. Rises the Moon is the first song, but it doesnt feel right. I skip through until I find Sometimes, a song I've cried to many times before and one that just feels fitting. I get through two or three loops of the quiet song before an urge to scratch hits me. And of course I'm the idiot who can't move and left their bandages in their bag, so i can't protect my hand and still get the satisfaction. I stave off the urge to hurt for as long as I can, which is really short actually, as the events of tonight and my mother's call and all these possibilities and self deprecating thoughts and last events swirl around my brain, only adding to everything.

I start to scratch the back of my hand. Just one spot. over and over and over and over and over and over. I don't realize I'm doing it until the telltale sting of scratching too deep and the hot wet blood begins to bubble up a little at a time. None of it is life threatening, just a way to feel pain, but I'm still disappointed in myself and scared of what Leo will think.

God I'm pathetic. Can't handle a third divorce even though I'm a fucking teenager. Couldn't even go one fucking week without fucking up your hand, could you? no. cause you're that fucking stupid. you're lucky as shit nobody's come looking yet. what would they think, huh? realize how pathetic and weak and fucking stupid you are and leave. because why keep a weak link that'll only cause them problems. God someone could come in here and murder you right fucking now and maybe 3 people tops would actually care.

I glare through the tears at my left hand and wrist, littered in dark scars and a few scabs. The anger at myself, at my step father, at the world wats at me as i continue, finding a patch that's undisturbed and picking away. soon there are even more new wounds, some overlaying old ones. I freeze when I hear the door handle jiggle. My hiccups become silent and I shake like a leaf, terrified like a child caught in the act and awaiting punishment. I scramble to pause my music and sit quietly, hoping whoever it is leaves.

A single knock sounds, then three more in rapid succession, and a final single knock. It's a pattern. Our pattern.

The lock clicks and the door slowly creaks open, yellow light flooding the once dim room. through the shower curtain I can see a silhouette of Leo move through the bathroom.

He steps in near silently, and then closes the door behind him as he steps into the room at large. It's dimmer now, so his silhouette is blurry and hard to make out, but I can see him set something down in the counter as he makes his way towards where I'm hiding. I try to stay quiet and see if he'll leave, but his senses are much better than mine and where would I even go?

My thoughts screech to a halt as his hand slowly pulls the curtains aside. When i subconsciously bare my teeth and hiss, he isn't scared at all.

"hey, hey.. it's just me, okay?.. it's just me.." his voice is soft and quiet, as if he's coaxing a wild animal. which is a little funny, considering the fact that my contact is 'bites people'.

His hands slowly move to cup my face, and I snap my teeth at his fingers. He yanks back a little and I realize what I'm doing. This only causes me to sink in on myself more, curling in and leaning away.

"Eugh boy, this is a nasty one huh?.. That's okay, we'll get through this.. Is it a touch or no touch typa day?" He holds his hands forwards again, but isn't reaching for me in a way that would make me feel threatened. I lean towards his outstretched hands and he takes it as an a-okay to touch.

"Okay, hup we go" and without warning he scoops me up from under my arms and maneuvers so that he's sitting longways in the tub and I'm between his legs, wings to his plastron. I tense up at the sudden movements and new position, but roll myself over and practically melt into his plastron. His hand gently runs through my hair and the other plays with my feathers.

"There ya go.. do you wanna talk about it?" And just like that the waterworks and rage boil up again.

I spend what feels like eternity but is probably only 30 minutes rambling about everything that's happened and how much I hate my stepfathers guts and everything in between. Somehow none of this scares Leo away. Not the small blood smears every time I wipe my tears with my left hand, not my sobbing and whisper yelling and voice cracks, not my occasional angry screams into my sleeve or his plastron, not my wings fluffing or flapping slightly, none of it. He sits there and doesn't seem phased by any of this.He doesn't leave, he doesnt yell, he doesn't tell me to suck it up or patronize me, none of that. It's a shock, and it only makes me cry more.

When the tears finally die down and the exhaustion hits, Leo pulls out his phone and texts the GC. I grab my phone when it goes off, just in case it's my mom, and see everything that's happened this far.

Fearless Leader; Hey [NAME], are you okay?

Fearless Leader; [NAME]?

Apes ⚾; Is everything okay?

Fearless Leader; I don't know.

R.A.P.H.; Do you nred any jelp Lee??

Fearless Leader; Im good without help, thanks Red. Does anyone know where [NAME] went?

M.C. Angelo; Uhhhhhhm I think I saw them go towards the bathroom? i don't know, sorry-

Mr. Machines; Can confirm, Motion detector picked up movement near the bathroom not long after they left.

Fearless Leader; Thanks guys, I'll be back

Fearless Leader; Found him! We're all good over here now I think. We've got some cleanup to do and then we'll go from there

Apes ⚾; okay! I hope she's feeling better!

M.C. Angelo; I hope so too :(

I put my phone back down, resting my forehead on Leo's plastron again as I started to shake.

"Woah woah woah, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Leo seemed a little panicked, unsure in his actions.

"'m good.." I didn't sound very confident in my answer.

"Just a lot?"

"Mhm"

"Do you wanna stay here or clean up and go somewhere else?"

My mouth feels glued shut so I hold up 2 fingers.

I lift myself up on wobbly and weak arms and step out of the tub, Leo following close behind. I turn the light on, only to slam it back off again.

".. Sorry."

"Nope, don't be sorry. Too bright?"

"Mhm.. sorry."

"You're fine babe. I mean, you've been in the dark crying for a while, your eyes are gonna be sensitive dingus."

"Okay.."

Instead of turning the light on, Leo took the remote for the LEDs and turned them up to be just a bit brighter. With the lights brighter I could see just how bad it was. There was a healthy few streaks of blood on the left side of my face and fucked up mascara trails everywhere. My hair looked like a pigeon decided to tear it up and the icing on the cake was how disheveled my wings had gotten. When i turned to look at Leo and laugh at how dumb I looked I saw just how bad he looked too. He had a few tear trails as well and a big old splotch of mascara and blood and tears all over his chest.

"Oh geez-" was all I got out before giggles replaced old sobs.

Leo looked down at his plastron and began to cackle too. Once we both calmed down again we began the cleanup process. According to Leo, the first thing to do was bandage my hand. He grimaced as he applied the bandages, but didn't say anything. We ended up just scrubbing each other down and I let him brush through my hair. It turns out the thing he set down outside the shower was one of his oversized Jupiter Jim hoodies. Infact, it was a hoodie with Jupiter Jim's copilot on it. I can't recall her name right now, but that's okay. As he hands me the hoodie I can see that he had his matching Jupiter Jim hoodie stacked underneath. I took my shirt off before sliding the hoodie over my head. There weren't any wing holes, so I kept them tucked neatly inside.

With both of us changed and cleaned up we finally left the bathroom. The rest of the family had been knee deep in a Jupiter Jim marathon when we arrived, and thankfully didn't make a big deal out of it. I sat in Leo's lap in the back of the group, trying to keep my wings out of the way, with April and Donnie laying next to each other on the floor and making fun of mistakes in the movies. Raph was sat next to Splinters chair with his Dad's hand on his head and his tail swishing idly. Mikey had been getting popcorn, and when he came back he plopped down and leaned his back against Leo and I's sides.

Everyone began to doze off after about the third or fourth movie, dropping like flies while Jupiter Jim handled a mission with Argemennon. Everything might not be okay, but that was out there. In here, it was safe and warm and comfortable.

---

Ty for reading and sorry for trauma dumping and projection in the form of hurt/comfort fics. the wing thing is related to phantom limbs i have to deal with a lot.

here's the song;

[your-divine-ribs]

Red Part 9

Words: 2.5k

Y/N is trying so hard to stay away from Van but she can’t avoid him forever… no warnings for this part ❤️

Red Masterlist Main Masterlist

You can't go on like this... you have to end things with Van...

You repeat the same few lines over and over in your head like a mantra over the following two weeks, almost like it's a sacred incantation that might somehow ward off these feelings that haunt you. It doesn't work though, your heart lurching every time your phone vibrates with a text message. Van's insistent, that's for sure. His texts start out flirty with plenty of innuendoes, but by the third day of you blanking him they take on a more serious tone.

Van: This won't go away just because you're avoiding me. I need to see you.

Van: We need to talk. You can't just keep ignoring me.

Van: I miss you x

The last one just rips into your heart brutally, and from that point on you hit delete quickly every time his name flashes up on your phone screen, trying not to read the contents of the messages. It's safer that way.

Of course ignoring Van doesn't mean that you automatically stop thinking about him though. He lingers there in your mind frustratingly, refusing to budge. He's the first image that pops into your head on waking and the last thought intruding on your mind as you battle with sleep. His whispered seductions in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck, the plushness of his lips as they press feverishly against yours... and those eyes... captivating and impossibly blue in the sunlight, drawing you in.

You've stayed away from Larry's ever since the day after the party, feigning a mystery illness, even going as far as insisting that Larry steers clear of your house too in case you infect him. He argues at first, but you insist. After all you are sick. Sick with guilt.

For the first time in all the years that you've been together you find yourself imagining a scenario where you two break up, playing the scene in your head like a movie. Larry shocked and disbelieving, pleading for you to reconsider through his tears. Van there waiting in the wings to move in and claim you, the duplicitous victor who steals you right out of his best friend's arms. No matter which way you play it, the outcome is always the same. Heartbreak for all involved.

You just can't do it.

"You can't still be ill, surely?"

Larry's tone is disbelieving and you're glad that you're on the phone and not face to face where he could see your flushed cheeks and guilt-ridden expression.

"Honestly, I've never felt so bad in all my life. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"But Sophie says she saw you in town yesterday, you were just coming out of that cafe on the High Street. You can't be that bad if you're out and about."

Sophie.

So she's still on the scene. It surprises you and that familiar jealousy comes flooding back, but you remind yourself that you have no business feeling it. If you don't want Van you're going to have to get used to seeing him with other girls. It's actually a good thing.

It doesn't feel good though.

"Errr... well, I guess I am starting to feel a little better." You flounder at being caught out. "I only popped out for a moment."

But Larry doesn't seem concerned that your excuses could be lies, he's got no reason to think that you'd be so devious in trying to avoid him. He just sounds happy, his voice raising up in excitement.

"Ah great, if you're starting to feel better then you'll be okay to come to the gig on Friday night."

"Gig? What gig?"

"You know... the lids are playing the O2 Academy. It's gonna be great. Tickets sold out in about 5 minutes."

"Oh..."

You're struck with anxiety at the thought of seeing Van again, but you know that you can't hide away forever. Sooner or later you're going to have to face him so it might as well be sooner. And he'll be up on stage for most of the night which should make staying out of his way even easier.

"Yeah... yeah. I should be alright. I'll come. Should be a good night."

You try to inject some form of enthusiasm into your voice but it's strained, not that Larry seems to notice. He's off on an excited rant, enthusing about what a good opportunity this is for the band and his best friend. It twists your heart to hear how proud he is of Van, and this just confirms to you that you're making the right decision by ending things.

"Ahh yeah it's gonna be class, and Dan the manager reckons this is just the start of it. He's just in talks with some of the major festivals and there's a good chance they'll be booking loads over the summer. They're really going places, I can feel it. Next year is gonna be immense! And Van's writing some quality tunes at the moment... proper anthems. Hopefully he might play one of the new ones on Friday."

You find yourself zoning out, Larry's words becoming indistinct until you hear something that makes your ears prick up.

"I'm just hoping this gig'll sort him out. Honestly I don't know what's got into him at the moment, he's been moping around with a face like thunder, ignoring Bondy's texts, shutting himself away in his room... he's been a bloody nightmare. Sophie says he's been snapping at her too..."

You close your eyes and screw up your face, your gut twisting as you listen to Larry's account of Van's mysterious uncharacteristic behaviour. What the fuck have you two been playing at? You're not just risking messing up your own lives, but also dragging other people into this whole sordid mess.

You need to rid yourself of this notion that you're somehow falling for Van. It's lust, that's all it is. Plain and simple. And you can soon put a stop to that. You just need to control your urges and see Van for who he really is. It wasn't so long ago that you were disgusted as he paraded a string of lovestruck girls into his bed. He's only on his best behaviour right now because he's on a mission to bed you. And that's never going to happen. Never. Never in a million years. It's over.

Gig nights are always accompanied by a mixture of emotions. Bob and Benji are a bag of nerves even though Benji tries to play it down, a contrast to Bondy's quiet, chilled confidence. Van's always hyper and tonight's no different. He's pacing back and forth in the back room of the venue, practically bouncing off the walls. At least the excitement is overshadowing the awkward moment that you two first clapped eyes on each other. Your train of thought had been utterly derailed and you were rendered speechless as you'd pushed through the door and seen him standing there, your breath catching in your throat as he'd greeted you with a rush of words which sounded very much like relief.

"Y/N! You made it. I really didn't think you'd come but here you are!"

"Here I am," you echo weakly when your power of speech returns, immediately dropping your head down to study the floor to hide your red cheeks. Thankfully everyone's so caught up in the pre-gig excitement that they don't appear to notice Van's eyes lingering on you and your obvious discomfort, but you announce that you're going to the bar nevertheless, keen to be released from Van's stifling gaze.

You turn quickly on your heel, head still down, making for the doorway that you've just come through. Various cries sound out from the lads, placing their orders, but you don't turn around. You just carry on walking, through into the corridor where you stop, taking a deep breath and leaning up against the wall, tipping your head back and closing your eyes.

Fuck... you hadn't been expecting the strength of emotions that had come crashing down on you when you'd seen Van. It had hit you like a ten-tonne truck, a wave of longing and craving and pent-up desire, a rush that made you feel weak, your head still spinning as you curse inwardly, trying to compose yourself.

"Are you okay Y/N?"

The female voice catches you by surprise and your eyes flick open quickly to see Sophie standing there, eyes wide and brimming with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine... good... really good actually. I just felt a little... I don't know... faint I guess. It's so hot in there." You fan yourself with a hand, glad to have an excuse for your scarlet cheeks.

"Larry said you'd not been very well so I thought I'd come and check on you. It's not like any of the lads would think to… am I right?"

She rolls her eyes and grins, linking an arm through yours, friendly and conspiratorial. You smile back, pushing your body off the wall, letting her turn you both in the direction of the venue foyer and bar.

"Yeah, guys are shit like that aren't they? Completely wrapped up in themselves."

"Totally! Oh god, especially Van. Sometimes I wonder whether he notices that I'm even there at all!"

You can't help the satisfaction that floods you at her words and you hate yourself for it, pushing it away and playing the understanding confidante, glancing over at Sophie as you walk along.

"Oh, well that's Van for you, he's so easily distracted. So... are things not... errr... going that well with you two then?"

Sophie lets out an audible sigh as you arrive at the bar, both leaning on it with your elbows. "I don't know. He's so moody at the moment, and it's like his mind's always somewhere else entirely when we're together."

Your mind goes to the frequent text messages you've been receiving. You dig in your bag for your purse, ordering pints for everyone. "You do realise that the band always comes first don't you?"

Sophie shrugs, shaking her head slightly, her glossy brunette locks falling perfectly to frame her face. She really is gorgeous, Van must be crazy.

"I know that... and I mean I know we've not been together long, but sometimes I wonder whether he's just stringing me along. You know, until something better comes along."

"Well I don't know about that..." you begin, but Sophie talks over you, eager to tell you her woes, reaching for the first freshly poured pint.

"I mean you did warn me didn't you? About what Van was like? Maybe I should've listened... but I keep finding myself going back for more. He's just so bloody gorgeous it's like I can't help myself. D'ya know what I mean?"

You almost mumble out an agreement before you stop yourself, dipping your head to take a sip of your own pint instead. Sophie's not waiting for an answer anyway, she's on a roll.  And what she says next shocks you.

"It's funny really, I've fancied Van for so long. I tried to catch his eye for ages, turned up to all his gigs, went to all the same parties, then after months he finally noticed me. I thought it was like a dream come true, but now I'm not so sure. I'm beginning to think that maybe Van's not the real catch here... maybe it's your Larry instead!"

You splutter in surprise, nearly spraying her in a mouthful of lager, swallowing it too quickly and making yourself cough. "Larry?" You croak, wiping the drink that's dripping down your chin.

She throws her head back with a hearty laugh, a hand reaching out for your arm. "Oh my god Y/N! You should see your face! Yes Larry... your Larry! There's not many Larry's around here last time I checked!"

You crack an awkward smile, setting your drink back down on the bar. "Yeah, I guess he's a good one."

"The best!" Sophie giggles. "Honestly, he's such a sweetheart. When I got upset over how Van was acting the other day he was so lovely. And he's hilarious too, he had me in stitches telling me stories of what the guys all get up to when they're touring."

Her eyes are all lit up as she speaks and you suppose you should feel threatened that this gorgeous girl's so taken with your boyfriend, but you don't. You just listen on, smiling and sipping your drink as she tells you a story of Larry picking her up from a party when she'd had too much to drink as Van wouldn't answer his phone. You hadn't realised how close they'd become in such a short space of time.

Suddenly she stops mid-sentence, eyes wide and cautious. "Oh bloody hell, listen to me going off on one! I hope I'm not over-stepping the mark. You do know that Larry adores you right? I really don't think that he'd even so much as look at another girl. Ahh shit I feel bad now! Me and my big mouth!"

"No, no it's fine," you assure her. "Larry's one of the good guys, nothing's too much trouble for him. He's like everyone's best mate."

Sophie's wariness evaporates instantly. "Yes! That's just it!"

"Alright ladies?"

You feel an arm on your shoulder as you hear the familiar voice in your ear and you whip your head up to see Larry's wide grin. He's got his other arm curled over Sophie's shoulder and she shrieks excitedly on seeing him.

"Larry! Oh my god, we've literally just been talking about you! Bet your ears were burning!"

"Hope it was all good," he grins, giving you a kiss on the cheek, murmuring a quiet "hiya love".

There's a flurry of greetings and hugs, and again you marvel at how seeing Sophie obviously so close to Larry isn't setting off alarm bells in your head. Maybe it's because you're so secure in the knowledge that he'd never stray. Or maybe it's something else. Maybe the spark really has gone from your relationship, that giddy breathless feeling that Van gives you, so addictive that you're always left craving more.

As Larry picks up the pints that you and Sophie can't manage and you all turn back towards the green room, thoughts are thundering through your head like a hurricane. You know damn well that you'd be foolish to think that the rush of excitement from a new relationship can be sustained, and the comfortable companionship that usually ensues is really the ultimate goal, but you still can't shake that disquieting feeling that your relationship with Larry has run its course.

But this isn't the movies. There won't be some dramatic scene accompanied by emotional turmoil that ends up in life lessons and everyone living happily ever after. The fact remains that not only are you a dishonest cheat, you've done the unthinkable and embarked on a illicit affair with your boyfriend's best friend.

Again the words ring through your head, and a quiet determination blooms inside you.

You can't go on like this... you have to end things with Van...

[sapphire-weapon]

i enjoy meta analysis of RE4make but even though a big part of the fun in shipping leon x ashley is extrapolating from all the little details in the game, sometimes i wonder what is it about them exactly that makes me go insane and the answer really just boils down to: royal/knight dynamic, fighting through hell to get back to you, blurring the line between duty and love

It's because their relationship doesn't end when the game does. The dynamic that they have in canon will actually carry over into their everyday lives when they're home, but... they're home now. It's different now. Their relationship is Not Normal, and they both know it even if they'd never acknowledge it out loud -- even to each other. And they have to find some way to live with themselves and also each other within the confines of mundane reality after escaping from a waking nightmare together.

It's the possibilities that pop up around that kind of conflict.

It's them at the same government function and locking eyes with each other from across the room until they can't bear to keep it up anymore. Ashley nervously draws her gaze down and to the side to look at nothing. Leon puts his hands in his pockets and quietly clears his throat, trying to tell himself that the anxious fluttering rising up from the center of his chest isn't there.

It's the way they still try to pass their tiny touches back and forth -- because they both feel the need to be in physical contact with each other for reassurance -- but they both know without saying aloud that they have to be much more subtle and natural about it in order to not raise eyebrows.

It's Leon sitting nervous whenever he's alone in the room with the President, because he's terrified he's been too obvious about even the quiet, subtle affections he's given Ashley since they've been home. He's sure he's going to get the "stay away from my daughter" talk any day now -- despite the fact that even those little affections have been infrequent and wholly innocent -- but it never comes.

It's the way that Leon has to physically choke back the urge to put himself between Ashley and anyone who gets too close to her. That's not his job -- and, in fact, it was an offer he knows he consciously turned down -- but it's an automatic impulse that he never fully trains himself out of.

It's Ashley making sure that she doesn't ask her dad about Leon too often as to be suspicious or annoying -- which equates to her doing it almost never, even though the desire to is always at the forefront at her mind, and not a day goes by that she doesn't think about him.

It's the way they just ignore the growing tension between them from their forced distance apart. It goes on for days, then weeks, then months -- until they can't ignore it anymore. They're not sure who kissed who first, but Leon has both hands buried in her hair, and she has one hand curled into the lapel of his suit jacket and another hooked around the knot of his tie, pulling him ever closer. Before long, he has her back pressed against the wall and her skirt hiked up just far enough to tuck the tips of his fingers beneath the hem of her panties. She can't get the buttons of his shirt open fast enough before pushing the fabric around his shoulders and down the length of his arms. Leon knows that he should stop this -- that this is wrong -- but Ashley's hands on his bare skin has him feeling normal for the first time in almost seven years, and he can't stop kissing her like the cure for his nightmares is written somewhere on the surface of her tongue.

It's Ashley on her back and running her fingers through Leon's sweat-damp hair as he hovers over her, eyes closed and head bowed as he tries to catch his breath and recover in the afterglow. Drops of sweat fall from his brow and the tip of his nose onto her bare chest and neck, and she lets them lay where they land. He's beautiful from this angle, and she so desperately wants to allow the words "I love you" tumble from her lips, but she holds back out of fear that, if she said aloud the truth they've refused to speak for so long, he'd put a stop to their now-repeated yet still infrequent midnight trysts. He kisses her slowly -- gratefully -- as he takes hold of one of her hands and weaves his fingers between hers. Her heart aches. Even though she has him for this moment, she still can't call him hers.

At least

I mean

That's what does it for me about the ship idk about you LMAO

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Chapter 37: Where it Began

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Explicit Sexual Content. Talk of Mental Illness.

Words: 10.7k

Summary:  If Din couldn’t run away then, he sure as hell can’t now. His dignity is already lost, and he’s proven to be too weak to escape fate.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

Tatooine is hotter than Din remembers, the automatic cooling system of his suit on overdrive. Twin suns beam down at high noon, the public of Mos Espa flocking to shade. His footsteps mark in the sand and Grogu grows restless off the transit in a satchel across his body. Together they make way in the city center, towards a building of scandal and bustling populous. The option had been displayed to meet at a more reasonable and less horrific time of heat. He could never be so kind to himself as to accept.

His company sits at a back table, soiled boots on polished wood, nursing a cup of Maker knows what. “You’re late,” she says. “I was beginning think you bailed.”

“Fennec,” he greets. “You don’t sound too upset by the prospect.”

“I would have chalked it up to divine intervention.”

He glances behind to the entrance. “The Force?” 

A pair of Twi’leks approach, offering to clean his helmet. Fennec waves them away and orders another drink. Her stomach, she says, makes alcohol more like a juice. She lives to indulge.

“Why did you agree to come?” She asks.

He chooses not to answer, taking internal inventory of the room. Once deciding it safe, he allows the Child to roam free. He runs to the band, cheering for the attention of the Ortolan. “What is this place?”

“The Sanctuary. I thought it fitting.” She tosses a bag of credits. “I’m hiring you on for a job.”

“A job?”

“Call it a favor if it makes you feel better.”

“Since when do I owe you a favor?”

“Since you left me shot for dead a year ago.”

“It’s been that long?”

She shrugs. “And some change. Say yes, it’s easy money.”

“I thought Fett called the shots. He know you’re here?”

“He does.” Feeling Din’s surprise she adds, “Mostly. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”

He responds, “Not always.”

“In this case it is. Do you remember the Marshal who used Boba’s armor?”

“Course. Cobb Vanth.”

“Are you friendly?”

“I killed a krayt dragon for his people. Planned on leaving the kid in his care if something were to happen so—” his head bobs “—you could say that.”

“How’d you like to pay him a visit?”

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing tragic, don’t worry.” She takes a swig, briefly offering the drink to Din. “All I need is for you to talk to him, do some of that convincing you’re so good at.”

“For?”

“There’s a treaty we need signed with Mos Pelgo—Freetown. Unification is important to Fett. All we ask is they recognize Boba as Daimyo and agree to follow a new constitution of laws.”

“Marshal Vanth’s a smart man,” Din says. “He’s fought hard to keep his people free. Won’t give into city say-so’s.”

“Believe me there are far more benefits than cons. Fett is shockingly well versed in politics. The treaty is brilliant.”

“If it’s so great why do you need me?”

“Because we need this signed, you’re our best shot at getting a yes. This is more than giving Boba more power or tribute. He wants to ensure underworld business stays in the underworld.”

“You’re cleaning up Tatooine?”

“Trying to.”

“How’s that worked out?”

“Well, we killed the Mos Espa mayor a couple months ago. Drove out some Pykes. Stopped a spice trade line. Established land agreements between some Tusken clans. And given the people a fair water tax and management system that is beyond me. We’re getting there.”

“I hate to say I’m impressed.”

“Then say you agree to speak to the Marshal. If he’s as decent of a man as you say, there should be no problem.” Din lends no response, crossing his arms. Fennec leans on her elbows. “What?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

A smile plays on Fennec’s lips, disguised by another drink. “Here I am thinking you aren’t smart,” she says. “If you agree, you would have to be accompanied by a member of the Fett Gotra.”

Foolishly, Din asks, “Who?” An answer given by Fennec’s wryly smile. “No,” he says. “No, forget it.”

“I wouldn’t have come to you if I had another choice.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me?”

“Yes. I’m asking you to do a job. Take it as just that.”

He grasps for a new excuse. “She’d never agree.”

“She already has,” Fennec says. “Granted I haven’t asked her yet, but she’s on board.” He gives a look. “If you agree, she will be. I know you want to so let’s skip the back and forth.” He swallows thickness, leg bouncing. Fennec stands, shoving the flask in the calf of her boot. She takes her helmet, unnoticed by Din on the ground, pulling it on. “You’re saying yes,” she tells him. “Come to the palace before nightfall. We’ll officialize details and get you briefed.”

‘Fennec…” His words are lost when she looks, though meaning still perpetrates.

“She’s fine. But don’t make me regret this.”

---

Contrary to popular belief, the Mandalorian known as Din Djarin is also fine. He isn’t doing particularly great, but he is fine. He’s okay, and that’s enough. Frankly, okay is the best he’s ever been in these past months. Okay is what lets him sleep at night for a full six hours and okay is what reminds him to eat. Okay means he doesn’t need a sip of alcohol at least twice a day, and maybe he should watch his temper.

So yes, he’s okay.

Frankly he thinks okay is the best he’ll be.

At least for a long while.

Nevarro isn’t shitty anymore, he’s as surprised as anyone else. Din isn’t exactly sure how the money came in or from where, but Karga—now deeming himself High Magistrate—saw to Nevarro’s settlement as a trade anchor and hyper lane port of the Hydian Way. The schools were proper, roads paved, water clean. The town bustles, new homes and land being established every day.

Din is the only one to still find it all insufferable.

He stays off world as much as possible. He never planned on returning at all until word came through about Cara. Greef said he reached out to someone, who reached out to someone, who reached out to someone, who eventually got to Din.

Neither she, Moff Gideon, or the New Republic vessel arrived to Coruscant for deliverance. Three and half months after what Din has only referred to as The Incident, they were found. Stagnant in space, exterior hull destroyed, bodies… A vigil was held with candlelight and Din left when Karga asked if he wanted to say any words.

He didn’t.

Cara was his friend. Now she is dead.

Gideon was his enemy. Now he is dead.

That’s all there is.

Din thought himself changed, arguably for the better. Emotion became too difficult to ignore, compassion bit at his ankles, all he wanted to do was give. Now caring is the least of his worries. Nothing matters. In an objective sense, nothing matters. Din is determined to go about his every day knowing this. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the Empire, the New Republic, the Jedi, or whateverelse there is. He doesn’t care about Nevarro, or Coruscant, or Mandalore. He doesn’t care about his lost ship, he doesn’t care about the stupid sword stuck to his hip. The only thing he can be bothered to give a damn about is the Child.

Din does his best for Grogu. He gets up everyday, he works, he travels, he lives for Grogu. No one else.

He does an okay job at this too.

The parenting thing is… a learning process on his own. The Child, what with his immense powers and inability of speech, makes for an interesting dynamic. Din still isn’t a talker, less now, but he read an article about the importance of enrichment so he tries. He likes to think Grogu appreciates the effort.

They make the best of their nomad life. The kid learns to behave on public transit, Din learns the quickest way to check his weaponry to not hold up a line. Grogu stops fussing when it’s nap time, Din uses the opportunity to have time alone. Grogu uses his magic to eat a frog for lunch, Din builds a fire to camp for the night.

They’re content.

They’re okay.

Sometimes, and only sometimes in the rarest moments of bliss, Din can pretend everything is good and believe it. When he has enough credits to rent a ship for particularly long or dangerous excursion, he can close himself inside the bedchamber and do nothing. He can take off his helmet without paranoia, he can escape to a galaxy where the Razor Crest still exists. Where he doesn’t have a Darksaber or have to worry about an Empire. Where he doesn’t know of the existence of Jedi, or Inquisitors or—

He can pretend nothing changed. He is still who he was at the beginning of the cycle. He’s made no promises, no oaths, he’s not tied to anything or anyone. He’s totally and utterly free.

Din likes the dark. He doesn’t like much at all these days, but he likes the peace of nonexistence. He likes being able to forget, to live without a dragging burden or guilt or shame. He likes not being able to see two inches in front of his face. He likes being able to feel his face. He likes sleeping with his head on a pillow. He likes waking up without a direct stare of himself from the reflection of his helmet. He likes forgetting the helmet exists.

He likes forgetting that he likes forgetting the helmet exists.

The idea complicates things, so he forgets that too.

He is still a Mandalorian. That’s what he tells himself anyways. The helmet is… a technicality, and he convinces himself he never broke Creed to begin with. The Child saw him yes, but Din had also seen the face of his caretaker as a child. Neither of them burst into flames then, they won’t now. Boba Fett is also a Mandalorian whether he admits to such or not. He is born Mandalorian or… created. That alone gives greater credibility than Din has to the people.

He supposes the exposure to Migs Mayfeld was unwarranted. Although, according to New Republic record, Mayfeld is dead. There’s no reason he can’t have died in Din’s recollection either.

All who’s left is…

Din does a remarkable job of moving on. Truth be told, he never thinks of Lumina once. He forgets all about her, every little aspect. The way he should have after the first time. He doesn’t spend nights caught on what ifs or maybes or would’ve could’ve should’ves. He just, forgets. He’s far happier this way, he is. Life is less dramatic, uneventful overall and… a little boring. He blames the unfamiliarity of calm on peace, a stranger to his life for so long.

He isn’t complaining, all it is is a learning curve.

He hadn’t begun to feel anything close to normal until the third month. The first caught him hollow, irritable, angry. He slept and drank and slept and wandered and got into one too many needless fights.

In the second the headaches stopped. He wasn’t angry, he was tired. He felt guilt about everything, about nothing. But all the nothings he shouldn’t feel guilty about and all the everythings he should. He lived in a hole.

On the dawn of the third he decided to live again.

And living is hard.

Living is the most dreadful part of his day.

But it gets easier, somehow.

Easier when he’s occupied, when he’s with the kid, easier as he stops thinking about her.

Forgetting isn’t easy, until it is.

Though, he isn’t sure he likes it.

Within the Sanctuary on Tatooine, the lights of the fresher refuse to work. But every now and then one will flicker and reflect off a piece of armor.

He thinks it is symbolic after all.

---

Peli Motto’s 3-5 hangar is virtually unchanged. A few spare parts have disappeared, a few more having spawned. A small ship of some client taken where the Razor Crest should be. Pit droids scurry like rats, astromechs follow along with aimless direction. Din prefers the sight in the day, illusions remain uncommon.

He’s selfish to expect what he does and too proud to admit it. Everything has been a cyclical repetition so far, how dare it stop now after so much has happened.

He should be greeted with what he expects. It should all play out exactly the same. It has happened once it should happen again.

It does not.

For a moment, Din considers the possibility that he has finally learned.

But moments pass and he is the same.

Maybe he will always be.

--

“Thank you,” Peli says, leaned against some wall. For the past five hours they’ve worked in relative silence on what Din would classify as a piece of junk. A halfway skeleton of some starfighter from Naboo.

Of course it’s from Naboo.

Din peeks over the defunct astromech port, wrench in hand. “What?”

“Thank you,” she repeats. “She wanted to tell you that.”

“Who?”

“Do you remember that girl that was here way back? The one you kept asking about?”

Yes.

“Not really.”

“She lives here now.” Grogu is the one to react, his play built of nuts and bolts toppling. “Not here, but Mos Espa.”

“Can you hand over a circulator? Uh… three inch circumference.”

“You know, I like her. Comes in to help every now and then, works hard, doesn’t take payment. Used to ask about you.”

“That’s… kind of her. I think the parts are over there if you could just—”

“Lumina Fett. That’s her name. Remember that refugee story? No family, no nothing? Turns out she found em. Her old man came back here and took over Jabba’s place, runs the joint now. Guy with your reputation I’m sure could just… walk right in. Introduce yourself.”

“Why would I do that?”

Peli snorts. “Because you’re as obvious as a rancor. You need an excuse to see her.” She holds out a set of shiny shock absorbers. “And I need this delivered to the palace, they’re for her. Two porgs one stone. C’mon, take it.”

Reluctantly, he does.

“I’m always right,” Peli says, smug.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her. I told you you’d like her, didn’t I?” She bumps his side. “And you do. I can tell. If you didn’t you wouldn’t keep lookin at my door like you’re expecting someone to walk through.”

If only the sand could swallow him whole.

“It’s okay, she likes you too.”

---

Boba Fett is not a man of faith, on the contrary he is far from it. He submits to no man, no god. He has not once fallen to his knees in prayer and has never cursed a deity or power greater than he. The matter is all trivial. Faith did not spare his father and there is no god to thank for his test tube creation. Kaminoans deserve no such honor.

He is without.

Life is simpler this way.

There is no fate, no prophecy, no one way life is meant to be. Life only is. Destiny is but an excuse to alleviate misery. All that happens is of natural effect, not a greater plan. No ineffable strategy.

The Force exists, sure. Boba is in no position to deny the fact. What he is in position to deny however, is its power. It’s ironclad grip on the galaxy, on the living. Power lays in the hands of the creations not the creator.

Every problem has a solution. A perfectly logical, reasonable, and achievable solution. All that is required is patience.

A patience running rather thin.

--

“My methods are unorthodox but proven in many studies of my people.” A Rodian speaks to him the floor of his throne room within Jabba’s defunct palace. Changes made in the past months have been both minimal and monumental. 

“How unorthodox are we talking?” Fennec asks. She sits on the arm of his seat, wiping the tip of her rifle, a performative action.

“There is a creature I possess which I have named Cxhenc, after the philosopher. It is not unlike a leech. You see, the Cxhenc will attach itself to the base of the patient’s skull and in doing so release a chemical—”

“I’ve heard enough,” Boba says. “You may go.”

“Buzz kill,” Fennec mutters at his exit.

“You’re serious? Absolutely not.”

“Don’t you want to know what it does? Could be useful in other cases.”

He thinks it over, she does have a point. She usually does. “We’ll call him,” he decides. “Who’s next?”

“Doctor Shuez Bhilba,” the 8D8 droid introduces, arm out. From the palace steps walks a human female. “Doctor Bhilba holds many degrees from the esteemed Academy of Medicine located in Coruscant. Including human neurological operations and advanced psychologics.”

“Coruscant?” Boba whispers.

“You said to cast a wider net,” Fennec responds.

“Cast wide, not tell the whole galaxy.”

“She knows as much as the rest. Daimyo Fett of Tatooine requires a royal physician. It can’t get worse than a parasitic lobotomy.”

Doctor Bhilba bows, reaching the pair. She wears glasses which slide down the bridge of her nose and a lab coat with a foreign emblem. “Lord Fett,” she says. “It is an honor to meet you. I’ve heard many stories since your come to power.”

“Flattery will get you no where with his lordship,” Fennec scoffs. “Whores are for confidence, jesters for stories. Not doctors.”

“My apologies, I mean no offense. I understand your hesitancy what with my tutelage, however I want to assure I hold no connection to the New Republic or any form of galactic government. My application comes in no way to betray, I promise you. I believe my skills will be of tremendous use.”

“How do you mean?” Boba asks.

“You are Boba Fett,” Bhilba says. “You are a clone, a man who has survived the unlivable, beaten the unbeatable. A man who despite all odds and in mere months establishes himself as a force matched only by Jabba the Hutt with one drastic difference. I’ve seen articles, met with locals. You are in the midst of accomplishing something truly good, truly great. Forgive my saying, but I am shocked you haven’t sought professional psychological aide sooner. It shows your resilience and your keen awareness to be unafraid to ask for help.”

“Hold on,” Fennec says. “Lord Fett does not seek psychological aide. He seeks a physician.”

“Which I too am qualified for, however it does not take even a single doctorate to deduce the true reason for your request of applicants. Great physicians can be found on Tatooine or any world. The reason there has been no hire is a lack of trust in psychology. Bacta heals the body not the brain.”

“She’s good,” Boba mumbles.

“Too good,” Fennec responds. “Doctor Bhilba, do you question Lord Fett’s sanity?”

“Certainly not,” she says. “In fact… I would need clearer consultation, but I classify Lord Fett as being entirely sane. Stressed, anxious slightly, and exhausted, but sane. Am I wrong then in thinking there is perhaps another in need?”

“She is good,” Fennec admits. “Your observations impress the Daimyo.”

“Thank you.”

“This is not to say the imaginary patient does indeed exist.”

“Of course not.”

“Should you however come across a patient with… deep psychological distress, how would you treat them?”

“Deep psychological distress?” She repeats. 

“Anxiety, attacks of panic, insomnia, general detachment, paranoia, hallucinations, and being a risk of harm to oneself and others.”

“My,” Doctor Bhilba says. ”And, there is no way for me to meet this… Imaginary patient?”

“Of course not,” Fennec says. “They do not exist.”

“Of course. In any case I would treat them as I would any client. The first few sessions would be spent in simply building trust. Then after assessment I would start medications and general therapy. My goal would be to ensure the patient feel safe above all else. Psychosis can be terrifying, but I’ve treated it many times. There may not always be a cure, but there is always a better.”

“I like you,” Boba says. “I do not like many people.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Should we take you on as the royal physician you will need to relocate permanently,” Fennec says. “And you will be bound to never speak of your work to any being under any circumstance.”

“I understand. I established a very successful practice on my homeworld of Naboo. Leaving would be difficult, but I have an excellent team whom I know will continue to do great things.”

“Naboo?” Boba repeats.

“Yes. I’ve been aide to our queens, common folk, and members of aristocracy since completing my studies.”

“No.”

Doctor Bhilba blinks. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said no. You’re dismissed.”

“Sir I—I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

“Lord Fett has dismissed you,” Fennec says. “Quite kindly might I add. I will not be. Leave.”

Boba slumps against the throne when the doctor is out of sight. “From now on we stick to calls in the Outer Rim.”

“Perhaps we should take a break, just for a short while. She said so herself, the call has been out for some time now, it’s suspicious you’ve found no one.”

“I don’t care if they think I’m mad.”

“You should. Mad kings rarely go down in splendor. Should the people get even an inkling that you are unfit to rule they will revolt. We’ll stop now and revisit later.”

“After last night I don’t know how much longer we can wait.” He sighs. “Gods help us.”

“Lord Fett,” the 8D8 speaks. “There is still one visitor awaiting your audience. Shall I dismiss them?”

“Yes,” he answers. “I’ll see no one else today. Preparations must be made for Freetown.”

“What are the chances I get an exception?” Down the winding steps comes the Mandalorian Din Djarin, beskar shining as bright as a knights. His head bows, fist to his chest.

To note Boba Fett as being a particular fan of Din Djarin may be a gross exaggeration. He does not like the Mandalorian. He does not like his unpainted beskar and how it shifts in the light. Boba does not like his stubbornness or arrogance. For the past few months Boba has been bound to specifically not like Din. It is his duty as caretaker to not like Din, and he does not.

He does however, like the Mandalorian’s dedication. His oath for a Creed Boba could not care for. His gall in ever showing his beskar helm to any of them again. And how absolutely pitiful he looks right now.

That Boba enjoys very much.

“You’re here,” Fennec says. Boba knows her too well now, and so he knows her attempt to mask surprise.

“Not without reason.”

“And…” Boba says. “What would that be?”

The Mandalorian presents open palms, a shock absorber in each. “I have a delivery.”

---

The palace hangar is a large and desolate thing. Fuel canisters litter half empty and half full, the flooring untiled, windows unheard of. What lighting the room has is limited and dimmed, more so casted in shadow than life.

Really it looks more like Peli’s than Peli’s ever did.

A rather unfortunate guarantee in this exact situation.

“You’re just in time. Thanks for coming so last minute.” Comes as he enters, the owner bent over a speeder bike. A girl crouches at the bike, running her hands over the exposed power cell.  She whispers, “Let’s see…” The speeder struggles, wheezing for life. It rumbles on the ground, repulser lifters desperately wanting to ignite. Instead, the light above Din flashes.

“Fuck.” She stands, back muscles stretching under a black shirt. “Whatever. Listen, I did everything you said and I’m telling you the shock absorbers the speeder came with can’t handle the new engine. If I don’t have that double padded K2-R, the second I hit top speeds I’m gonna fly right off this thing.”

For the second time in his life, and the first with discontent, the Mandalorian’s heart flutters.

What. The. Fuck.

“I’m not Peli,” he says, an echo of the past.

The other turns quick, nearly breaking their neck in the process. Suspicions confirmed. They’re more than a girl. They’re the reason Din’s brain malfunctions and now the both of them are staring like they’d just seen a ghost.

Ironic.

She has speeder oil smeared across her cheek, her clothing is worn and stained. Her hair loosely tied back, but too short to stay. Curled bangs escape to the front. Her eyes are wide and bright grey under the light. They sit with overwhelming grief and unending exhaustion.

If Din couldn’t run away then, he sure as hell can’t now. His dignity is already lost, and he’s proven to be too weak to escape fate.

That’s the problem with only being okay. Din lies to himself more than anyone else. Because while he can say he’s moved on, life catches up and shows him a mirror. It can bring back every memory he locks away, every feeling he convinced himself didn’t matter and it will only mock his reaction.

Because while Din has forgotten everything and never thinks of Lumina once, he’s also builds exceptions. He’s perfectly fine and okay without her until it rains. He’s okay until he walks through trees. He doesn’t care until he reaches for his knife. Until he gets in bed with all his anger and frustrations. He’s doesn’t think of Lumina once unless he sees a flower. He forgets she exists until he looks at the moon and watches the sunrise and is faced with stars.

Those stupid fucking stars.

Din would give anything to never see one again.

And now there’s one right in front of him. Her. Lumina. His flower. His sun. His star. Looking… utterly terrified.

No one moves. No one speaks.

So Din does the only reasonable thing he can think of. 

He says, “Hi.”

And Lumina responds with the only reasonable thing she can think of. 

“Hi.”

And so they both find that neither of them are very reasonable people and the mutual action does very little to suppress any panic at all. They continue to stare thinking one may simply disappear or the galaxy will self correct and vanish the other itself.

The galaxy does no such thing.

By this point they should have each learned that the galaxy is as kind as a god. That is to say, not at all.

As it turns out Din is still moronic when it comes to planning. The space between their words are longer than he would prefer but he can’t necessarily blame her.

Not this time.

The light above flickers, and neither flinches.

“What brings you?” She asks.

Nothing. Everything.

“I was in the area… Thought I’d pop by. You’re a mechanic now?” His feet feel heavier than normal, trudging. He places the absorbers on the nearest table, their fall sounding like wrenches.

“I wouldn’t go that far. I help Peli in Mos Eisley where I can, take more off days than I do on.” She slides off thick padded gloves. A bandage wraps her right wrist, ending at her knuckles. Her hands shove deep into the pockets of her pants. “Gives me something to do.”

“Do you like it?”

She shrugs. “Beats calculating water tax.” Her weight shifts, sinking an inch deeper. “Where’s your kid?”

“With Peli,” Din answers, ignoring the pang of it all. “I didn’t know if it’d be good for him. Coming down here. He’s good, really good actually, but—”

“I get it. I wouldn’t bring him either.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You did. It’s okay.” A fluttered chime sounds, echoing against the walls. “That’s dinner.” Lumina wipes oil off her face with a red rag, staining the fabric. “Will you be there?”

“Yes,” he says, sudden and eager. “Dinner.”

“Yes,” she repeats laughing, though the smile is never full. “Dinner.”

---

Din can’t help but wonder whether the circumstances of dinner is a direct dictation of Boba, or rather a natural fall of events. The dining hall is large and undecorated, a long table in the center. One chair sits at the head, another to its right, two to its left. Servant droids deliver the banquet from the kitchen, but Lumina—now cleaned from earlier—sets the table. Glassware, plates, spoons, forks. Fennec places the knives when she enters. Passing Lumina she says, “I’ll take care of clean up tonight,” and doesn’t accept argument.

Boba enters last, helmet removed and held against his hip. His skin is cleared from last they’ve seen of another. Scaring relatively gone, tan returned. He pays Din no mind, which isn’t entirely unexpected. Instead, the newest Daimyo hugs Lumina by the side and kisses the top of her head. Their hushed conversation is one Din can’t make out. The bulk comes from Boba, Lumina nodding along. She speaks thrice, the second after she looks at Din, the third a simple confirmation of whatever it is Boba says.

Lumina sits first then Boba. Him at the head, her the single chair. Fennec takes the left closest to. Din is stiff taking place next to her, the empty seat given with no setting.

Food is passed between the three, Lumina taking the smallest of servings, Boba the largest, Fennec in the middle. The scene feels too intimate for Din’s intrusion. Too nuclear.

“Adi,” Boba says. “Have you finished your bike?”

“Not yet.” She cuts the same piece of meat over and over, pushing it around. “I will tonight.”

“Don’t stay up too late.”

“I know.”

“You go to Freetown in the morning.”

“I know, Boba. I’ll be there. Are the documents ready?”

“The majordomo approved them this afternoon,” Fennec says. “He compliments your skill.”

“Does he still oppose my proposal for an election?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t care for his compliments.” Fennec snorts, Boba shoots her a behave look only a father could master. “I don’t,” she reiterates. “The people need representation and fair council.”

“I agree,” Boba says.

“A new mayor must be selected by those they will run, not us.”

“Adi, I said I agree.”

She slows. “You do?”

“Yes. I do. Fennec has read through your proposal, it’s excellent. The initiative will take time to implement, but your strategy is good.”

Fennec nods, mid bite of a fried porg. “Good job,” she says, mouth full.

Lumina says, “Thank you.”

The table falls into silence again, forks and knives scraping plates, wine pouring into Boba and Fennec’s glasses.

Boba clears his throat. “Din Djarin,” he says. No one misses Lumina’s fork dropping, a loud clink clink clink. “Tell me, how goes the life of the Mand’alor? Fulfilling I hope.”

“I am not Mand’alor,” Din says in his chest. “And I do not plan on becoming.”

“Yet you still carry the Darksaber? Seems counter productive.” He pushes his plate aside, dabbing the corner of his mouth. “Have you given the position any thought before dismissal?”

Din does not answer. He thinks it a growing habit, comfort in the unknown. 

“Ad,” Boba says. “I should like the Mand’alor accompany you to Freetown in the morning. It will serve as his first taste of diplomacy. What say you to that?”

She sounds like a child, a quiet, “What?”

“I think it an excellent idea,” Boba continues. “Don’t you agree Mand’alor? Your first taste of politics coming from an expert?”

He wishes he could hesitate. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Ad?” She gives no answer, he tries again. “Lumina?”

Her body startles first, then her mind. She sits up impossibly straight. “Yes, yes of course,” she says at once. In her momentary silence, she looks in a daze.

“Lumina,” Fennec says.

She jumps again, standing her chair knocks over. Watching the floor her hands turn to fists. She mumbles, “Excuse me,” and hurries out.

Din’s motion to stand is waved down by Fennec.

“I do hate when you’re right,” Boba says, sipping wine.

“I always am,” she says.

“You may take a plate to the kitchen to eat in privacy,” Boba says to him. “I will have a room prepared for you when you are finished.”

“You said she was fine,” Din tells Fennec.

“You said you were done with her,” she counters. “I guess we both lied.”

“I should talk to her.”

“You will not,” she snorts. “You’ll go to the kitchen and eat your food like a good little Mandalorian. Then you’ll go to bed, get up, go to Freetown, get that treaty signed, and leave. I will talk to Lumina, and you,” she says to Boba, “will reconsider Doctor Bhilba.”

“The answer is no.”

Fennec stands, grabbing a leg of nuna. She takes a bite, juices drip. “Then find your sister.”

---

Lumina resides in the second largest room of the palace. Her walls are circular, the floor a white marble tile. Her door is atypical, a thick curtain on a steel rod, a carried theme to both her closet and fresher. Her bed is larger than necessary and softer than she knows what to do with. The sheets are perfectly steamed to conform to the shape. She thinks it was meant to be Boba’s but bacta does little to heal bones sore with age.

She can’t open her windows, though there are plenty. A desk is littered with paperwork and ink, a small computer terminal, books on books, open, torn, written in. A potted plant, yet to bloom. A map of the known galaxy, pinned to the wall.

She sits in the center of her room on the floor, legs crossed, one bedside lamp dimmed. She stretches out, breathes, and retracts. The motion repeats several times over until the pain of the pull subsides.

Three knocks come at the limestone outside, one right after another. She’s slow to rise, slower to approach. The curtain retreats to the image of the Mandalorian, tall and not so proud.

He says, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” Groggy, like he’d just woken up.

She moves aside, an open invitation to which he accepts.

He ends standing where she sat, turning. “It’s nice.” Pointing to a seven-stringed hallikset in the corner. “I didn’t know you played.”

“I didn’t. Boba gave it to me. He says it’s important I have hobbies. I get too caught in my work here, it worries him.” Unsure how to move, Din begins to pace. Looking anywhere feels like an invasion of privacy. “Listen,” Lumina says, sensing the unease. “I want to apologize for earlier. I got overwhelmed, I didn’t mean to cause a scene. Fennec talked it over with me, you coming along… and I agree, I—it would be very beneficial for you to come. I can—” she stops short, a deep exhale passing her lips.

Stepping forward is a guttural response from him.

So is her step back.

Lumina takes the moment to recompose, blinking away the oncoming panic. “You’re welcomed to come along if you wish,” she says. A true diplomat in ways, she passes Din in favor of her desk. “I thought it best if you read over the treaty yourself and then posed questions afterwards rather than my explaining it to you. I write better than I speak.” Instead of handing the datapad to Din directly, she places the tablet on the trunk at the edge of her bed between them. “I’ve met with Marshal Vanth twice before, he is kind, mostly agreeable. With luck the deal will be simple. Now, I know taxes and tributes will be an issue but I’ve commodified some numbers and with the elimination of spice our annual capital growth is already going to shrink horribly and we need to make up losses… What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Din asks. “You’re standing here talking about economics like any of this is normal and all I can think about is why didn’t you tell me? I deserve an answer.”

She whispers, “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I said I—”

“I know what you said, I’m asking why.  What did I do to make you think you couldn’t tell me? That I would see you any less? I already knew so much about you, or I thought I did. I knew how you grew up, I knew your connections, I knew you could get sick and act differently. I knew you weren’t normal. I knew that and I never held any of it against you. Everyone else called you something, everyone else hated you. I didn’t. So why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I couldn’t,” she replies. “I tried. I tried so many times. Do you think I wanted to betray you? Do you think it was easy for me to lie to you every single day? It was hell. You were so wonderful, even when you were a dick you were a million times better than me. I know that you’re hurt, you have every right to be. But all this anger you’ve had for me for what… four, five months?” She points to herself, jabbing her own chest. “I have had to sit with every day of my life. You always give me shit for leaving but you left! You left! You get to leave, you get to run away and forget. I don’t. So I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I used to kill Jedi when I was teenager. Okay? I’m sorry I didn’t want to ruin the one good thing I’ve had in years.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined anything—”

She laughs, palms pressed to her eyes groaning. “Gods just shut up! Are you kidding? Grogu scared the shit out of you and he’s a baby. You called him dangerous. You wanted to send him away because you couldn’t handle it. Where does that leave me?”

He hesitates. “We would’ve figured it out.”

“Din, I didn’t think you were actually here until Boba said something. Do you know how many doctors they’ve brought for me? There is no figuring this out, this is just who I am.”

Din is too quiet for either of their comforts. He takes the tablet from the bunk, gives it a once over glance. “You wrote this?”

“I did.”

“I think you need to give yourself more credit. Cause you’re a lot more than you think.”

“Maybe.”

“You used to freak out when you thought someone wasn’t real,” Din says. “Why talk to me?”

She shrugs.

“I missed you. A lot has happened. I wanted someone to talk to. Take your pick. Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

He repeats. “Take your pick.”

---

Tatooine is significantly colder at night, moons high in the sky. Lumina and Din exit the palace with relative ease, Gamorrean guards asleep at their post. She wears a cape with a large hood drooped at her neck. They keep a simple distance, sabers on their hips swinging in tandem.

“You once asked if I knew of the Force,” she says. “Do you remember this?”

He does, so he nods. “I do.”

“What do you know of it?”

Within the helmet he frowns. “It’s…” He searches for the words because in truth he does not know. Not really. The definition given to him by Ahsoka feels too textbook and manufactured. Like it were to be given to hundreds so that no further questions may be asked. “It’s… energy, of life.”

She nods once. “Do you know what that means?”

He does not, and admits such. “No.”

“For as long as sentients have existed,” Lumina says. “The Force has been studied. No one knows what it is, not really.  It’s everything, and nothing, and it’s everywhere, but also no where. All at once, all of the time.”

“Right,” Din responds curt. “How does that work?”

“Think of it like the air. You can’t see it, but you know its there and sometimes you can feel it. The Force is like that, except it never ceases to exist. Not in space or water or dirt… really it is all of that, except it’s never tangible either. It just is. Does that make sense?”

“I guess.”

“There are two sides, like a moon. Light and dark. The dark is cold, lonely. It’s an infection that feels like it can never be cured. It’s being trapped in a frozen lake wishing for anything to pull yourself out with but nothing is ever within reach. So you get angry, and you hurt. My father—” she says with far greater ease than ever before. “He held so much hurt for all I knew him. He passed his hurt to me, encouraged I grow my own. I am in the dark, I always have been. A Jedi would call me a Sith. I’m not given a choice to disagree.”

“And the light?”

“I wouldn’t know, but I imagine it’s beautiful.”

“So… Moonlight is good?”

“Yeah,” Lumina whispers. “Moonlight is good.”

--

Lumina takes her lightsaber in her hands, twisting at parts. “This weapon belonged to Ahsoka Tano when she was young. My father trained her before he got sick, and gifted it to me when I came of age. There is a crystal inside which…” She struggles, pulling said crystal out. It’s presented to Din between her thumb and forefinger, a dull red. “Gives the sword its power. We call it kyber. The crystal connects to the Force, we connect to the crystal.”

“Why red?”

“They were blue once, when I got it. My people we… conduct a process called bleeding. This crystal is bled.”

“Ahsoka’s were white.”

“They were,” Lumina confirms. “I don’t know why. I’ve never seen anything like it. Or yours.”

“That’s reassuring,” Din mutters.

“Could mean nothing. The Darksaber is older than the Republic, maybe there were different methods of building back then. Have you tried using it at all?”

“Very little, nothing to count. It’s heavy.”

Lumina reassembles her saber. “Let me see?”

Vertical, the Darksaber ignites, black blade shining. His elbows drop.

“Are you trying to hold it up?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t. You focus on its weight, it will only be heavier. Close your eyes… are they closed?”

Truthfully he answers, “Yes.”

“I want you to breathe, slowly like you’re learning. Pay attention to everything else. The temperature, the smell, the sand, the sky. Relax into all of it.”

Din can’t all together describe the sensation. Not with any hint of accuracy anyways. He worries he does it wrong at first, focused too closely on the ‘other’. His feet, his hands, the weight of his helmet. Her. Gradually the oddness settles and all becomes natural. A wind or a flame, a particle of sand in a greater world. Light.

“What do you call this?”

“Meditation. Technically a Jedi practice but… well I find it helpful. How’s the sword feel?”

“Better.”

Sounds crackle again, he sees a red hue flashing from behind his eyelids and visor. Pressure comes from the sword. He pushes back.

“I want you to remember that when you use this sword, you are using energy. It’s your job to direct with intention. Understand that the currents are a part of you. The kyber wants to connect and you should want to allow it. Think of it as liberation, not a hinderance.”

The pressure vanishes, as does the weight.

--

Din asks about her wrist, Lumina too caught up in rubbing the wrapped bone to pursue conversation. She blames the sprain on an accidental fall the day prior.

He isn’t sure why he still lets her lie, but it becomes a comfort to them both.

--

“You’ll like Krrasantan,” Lumina tells him. “Even for a Wookie he’s huge. Scary too, but secretly sensitive. When he found out I used to live with Trandoshans he wouldn’t speak to me for a week.”

“Have you heard from any of them since?” Din asks. “The Trandoshans.”

“I’m not allowed to use the comms,” she says, head shaking. “Fennec monitors my calls. I’m can only call her or Boba when they’re not home. She says it’s a security issue, but I know better. I do miss Sully though… Don’t tell BK. His dad and Boba were friends. Went bounty hunting together a lot actually. ”

“Speaking of, I hear you’re officially a Fett.”

Her head ducks. “Who told?”

“Peli.”

“Of course.”

“So it’s true?”

“It is.” She kicks sand, watching the clump blow into the air. “Fennec introduced me as it once before to the old mayor. I had a meeting with him to discuss the spice trade, he said he’d only talk to Fett. Fennec told him I was his kid and since then it stuck. People talk a lot around here, word spreads. I still can’t tell how Boba feels about it.”

“I’d think he’d be welcoming to you claiming his name.”

“Oh he is. You should see how he lights up when he hears Lady Fett get thrown around the palace.” A smile grows on her the same, the first real one he’s seen since arriving. “I think it suits me well. Lumina Fett.  It’s my favorite name I’ve ever had.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“He never claims me as his.” Her brightness dims, pace slowing. “He explicitly says he isn’t my father whenever someone says otherwise. Doesn’t explain why either. Fennec says it makes him feel guilty, whatever that means.”

“So… you guys are what exactly?”

“Family,” Lumina says. “We’re family.”

--

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Lumina says, their walk to the palace gate cautious in step. “Marshal Dune.”

“How’d you hear?”

To Din’s knowledge word had only been sent to Nevarro by way of Adelphi Ranger, Capitan Carson Teva. The coming and going of Moff Gideon still unknown to the Core, a ‘nonissue’ so to say.

“Boba has access to New Republic channels, not that they know. Remnants from Jabba’s rule, the tech is old but it works. I like to listen when he’s not looking. It’s harder to stay in the loop now that I don’t live in the Core. Boba offered to send something to her family when I told him but…”

“Alderaanian.” 

“Yeah. Alderaanaian. I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

They come down the steps into the throne room, empty, unlit. “It is, actually,” Lumina says. “It’s entirely my fault. I failed in killing Ghost, in turn she killed Gideon. She killed your friend. That is my fault, and I am sorry.”

“You’re certain it was her?”

“Who else would have done it? If Gideon were to successfully arrive to the New Republic, who knows what he would have said. What they would have made him say. I’ve already ruined the secret of Inquisitors. The New Republic is a beast in disguise. They wouldn’t rest until he said more. He failed his duty to the Empire, proving himself no longer useful. Killing him was a security measure. I would’ve authorized it myself honestly.” 

Din continues to follow Lumina back to her room. He realizes he shouldn’t. Their farewells and goodnights should end now. The night has been long, the morning will be longer.

He does not think himself a man of sound mind.

Lumina pulls back her curtain, leaning in the entryway. “She loved him,” she says, suddenly. “She loved Gideon and she killed him. We grew up together, she spent years looking for me and the moment I turn out to be different, I’m no one.” She takes a breath, leaning her head back. “Gideon was the first person to show her any kind of love, empathy, desire. Whatever you want to call it, that is what he provided her. And she wanted him just the same, and now he is dead, she is missing, I am here. I worry I may have underestimated her.”

“You think she’ll come back?”

“Oh I know she will,” Lumina chuckles, soulless. “The question is when. How. That I’m still working out.”

“I would argue it’s not your problem anymore.”

She walks inside, casually imploring a use of the Force to hang her cloak. “I was the first to come back from the dead. I am still the rightful heir, and I’ve yet to abdicate. I should like to dissolve my inheritance before others are reborn as well. When rooms are crowded, navigation becomes trickier. If the downfall of my father’s empire is not my problem, it is no one’s.”

---

Lumina sits at the top of her bed, Din across on the edge of the mattress. With the Force, she closes her curtain door, hooking it’s fabric latch. “They took out my door a couple days ago.” She calls it a ‘safety issue’, and doesn’t elaborate.

She falls onto her back, he looks up. Unnoticed until now, her painted ceiling. A dark galactic blue, hand drawn thin white lines connecting various dots. Nothing is labeled or really makes logical sense. The image isn’t one Din would recognize.

“Finding a hobby meant I had to try everything at least once,” Lumina says.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Something.”

“Descriptive.”

“Shut up. It’s a map.”

“To?”

“No clue. I would see it in my dreams a lot, visions I guess. Could be nothing.”

It’s too obvious he struggles with the words. “Do your visions… usually mean nothing?”

She snorts. “My visions usually don’t happen. Not on their own anyways. I’m more of a historian than a psychic.” She sits up, preemptive to his declaration of confusion. “Psychics see the future, I see the past. I touch an object, I see it’s history. Some things more vivid than others. Sight, touch, smell, sound, everything. It’s why hotel beds make me uncomfortable. I’m good at controlling it, but some things just set me off.”

“Your gloves…” he says, a sudden realization.

“Like you said, dirt talks to me,” she chuckles. “And everything else.”

“The clones, on Nevarro. They’re what made you sick.”

“The last time something that bad happened was when I grabbed my dad’s lightsaber as a kid. I was out for a week straight. When memories are sourced from the dark side I go into shock. On Nevarro it was the clones, in Arkanis it was the school. I can’t handle it, so I drop.”

“Shit,” Din swears. “Fuck I’m sorry.”

She ignores this. “I can access memory too,” she says, like the notion has only just to come to her. “In sentients. I can go inside anyones mind and do whatever I want to their consciousness. With Doctor Pershing I… I let him relive memories of his mother. I used to do it with Grogu all the time, let him remember his life before.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not when the other agrees.” He can tell she isn’t totally there, mind wandering. “ It’s totally painless, I’ve been told euphoric.”

“And when they don’t agree?”

“Unbearable. It’s how I would information out of Rebels, Senators. I just—go in. It’s what I did to Gideon…”

“What?”

“It’s what I did to Gideon,” she says again, growing confidence. “I went inside his mind. I took out every memory he had of me. Everything just—I made it all disappear so he couldn’t turn me in. Din, I—I have an idea. And you can say no but… I think I can help you.”

“Help me?” He repeats. 

“I can feel your emotions. I know you’re not totally comfortable right now, with me. I understand. You’d rather not be here, you’d rather not see me. I’ve done… irreparable damage to you, your friends, your kid. You never wanted to see me again and now you’re here because Boba and Fennec made you think that’s what you want, right? What if… What if I—What if I made you forget me?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I can access your memories,” Lumina says. “I can alter your memories. The topic is specific enough, I can go in and make it so you’re totally free from me. You’ll never have to think about me again because I won’t exist. Every single thing, as far back as you want to go, can be gone. Everything. You won’t even remember you showed me your face.”

That gets his attention.

“You’d still remember,” he says.

She rubs her wrist. “That can be remedied.”

“What about everything else? I wouldn’t know any of it?”

“If it didn’t involve me, you would. If it did… you have two options. Total erasure, or your memory just gets spotted. You go to Trask, not Arkanis. You lose your ship, the kid, but I’m not there. I’m not saved. You might feel like you’re forgetting something but you’ll never know what. You can leave all of this behind you. Forever.”

 Before his conscious can command otherwise, the Mandalorian removes his helmet, dropping the beskar onto the marble floor. Were it a simpler material, it would shatter.

In some ways he’d be better off if it did.

Her shock is the same as the first time, if not greater.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he says. “I need you to look at me when I say this. I am never letting you do anything to control my mind again. Never. Because out of every single thing you’ve done to me, that is the worst. I thought I was going insane. You made me hate you. You made me say a million things I don’t believe, things I still don’t believe.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought—”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t think. You don’t think. If you did you would know better. Why the hell would I be here? Why do you think I’m still here? I know you’re not familiar with free will, but I am capable of making my own choices. This is my choice. You are my choice. You have been for a very long time and you’re the only one who can’t see it.”

“I don’t understand. You said—you said we were done before I did anything to you. You said that. You acted on that. I’ve respected that, I always have. I’m trying to help you and—and you’re mad at me.”

“How can I not be mad?”

“How can you? Every good thing I’ve done has been for you. This is a good thing. This is good. I’m letting you let me go. I need you to let me go so I can let you go. I waited for so long for you to change your mind. All I wanted was for you to change your mind and come back. You didn’t. You stayed away and I never blamed you. I’m never going to have a good life. I’m never going to escape this. You can. You have. I want to. If you let me go, if you say you’re finished, I can be too. I want to let you go. I want to know you’re doing good. I can if I know that I’m not hurting you anymore. So stop telling me I’m wrong. I know what I’m doing, I know what I’m asking.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Why?”  

“Because it is impossible, Lumina,” Din snaps, whispered. “You would have to erase every memory I’ve ever had. You would have to kill me. There is not a point of this galaxy that I can go to be free of you. I see you everywhere I am. Every dream. Every sun. Every star. I see you. I want you. I have spent months trying to do nothing but forget you and I cannot. You have put a hunger in me that I cannot feed in your absence. I starve without you. I’ve broken my Creed for you. I’ve yet to face my people due to my own fear. You have made my life a hell worse than any sin I could commit on my own. But that is a hell I would walk a million times over if it meant having you for just a moment. You have never insulted me more than to say I would want otherwise when I want you. I have always wanted you.”

Lumina says nothing at first, until she says everything.

“Do you still love me?”

He does not respond, bringing their lips together.

---

“You’re so handsome,” Lumina whispers. She cradles the side of his face, he keeps her steady on his lap. It’s all hands and mouth, attempts at closeness. His armor is off, placed delicately on the ground. Her shirt hrown somewhere unknown, so is his. He unbuttons her pants but they’ve yet to be removed. “I wanted to tell you then. I couldn’t believe it. I always had an idea, hard not to. But… Stars you’re beautiful Din.”

He tells her to shut up, mumbled into her neck and in-between kisses. He buries himself there, nose pressed to her shoulder at the start of her scar.

“You are,” she says. “I was right. The galaxy wouldn’t know what to do with itself if it got to see you like this all the time.”

He bites her. “Quit.” His chest is too tight, too full. He’d be better off if she killed him now, save the embarrassment.

“How do you say that? Gar mesh’la?”

Din shoves his hand down the front of Lumina’s pants, two fingers going directly inside. Her gasp is silenced, his mouth swallowing the sound, his tongue pushing inside. His fingers hook in a practiced way, pumping in and out. 

“I said shut up,” he whispers. “Boba walks in I’m dead.”

“Don’t—Do not talk about Boba right—now.”

There’s pride in Din, knowing she’s just as responsive as she was. Knowing he’s the cause.

He pulls out, the sound making his head spin. Selfishly, he takes time to inspect the mess, a long quiet groan. “Go turn off the lights.”

Her left hand raises above their heads, with a twirl of her wrist the power cuts.

“Gods,” Din mutters. He takes a hold of Lumina’s waist, turning to lay her down. He yanks her pants over the swell of her ass. “This whole fucking time…”

“Lights are new,” she tells him, moving up to assist in the removal. “Can’t control it. Better at turning off. Not good at turning anything on worth shit.”

He grabs her hand, placing it over the warm swell between his legs. He squeezes rough over the fabric saying, “You are.”

She squeaks, “Oh.”

“There she is,” Din whispers. He guides her palm, rubbing slow strokes. “There’s my shy girl.” His other hand unbuttons his pants, shoving them down, pulling himself out. “Used to think it was the other way. Only pretended to be all sweet. ’S the other way isn’t it? You just act scary. Don’t know better.”

“Fuck,” she whispers. “I am scary.”

“Mm yeah…. terrifying.”

“Fuck you.”

He cups her jaw. “I’m trying.” He guides her mouth to his cock, which she accepts graciously. “My pretty girl,” he says, breathless. “Oh my Sarad.”

That gets her, a high whine around Din. Her hand snakes between her legs, rubbing at her clit. Din pulls her off as soon as he notices, which isn’t for some time in his current state.

“No,” he says. “I take care of you. Me.”

She lets him.

Like there was ever an argument not to.

Din lays her down again, mouth following to kiss. He’s never been one to like the taste of himself, but from her mouth it’s all so sweet. His fingers find their way inside again.

“Have you…” he tries to ask, brushing their noses together.

“No,” she answers. “No one. Tried once. Got drunk. Sad. Punched him. Threw up.”

“How far—”

“He kissed me. That’s it. Hated it. Called me a bitch.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Please,” she moans. Though it could just be so he’d hurry along.

“Hold on baby. Hold on almost.”

“You?” She asks. “Did you?”

“Have I?”

“Yeah.”

“No. Tried.”

“Tried?”

“Went to Canto. Moon. She looked like you, wanted… needed someone like you.”

She pulls away, holding his jaw. “What happened?”

“A lot. Accent was wrong,” he mutters, embarrassed. “Called me Mando. Wasn’t you. She got naked, I got pissed, left.”

“You left her naked?” Lumina asks.

“Yeah.”

“Did you pay?”

Now he moves back. “What?”

“Did you pay her? You know… for her services? She got naked, she deserves to be paid.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m very funny.”

“You’re not—” He does laugh though, quiet. “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying,” she mimics. “Hurry up.”

Din kisses her once. “Brat.”

She laughs. “Can’t change everything.”

They don’t take long, after Din enters. She’s sweet as ever, taking without issue. Things slow to a crawl, pressed to the hilt, they become acutely aware of what exactly it is they’re doing.

“Are you okay?” Din asks, whispered. He moves at a snail’s pace, gentle. Focused more on grinding and getting her comfortable than any real fucking.

If this can be called something as simple as fucking.

He thinks not.

“Yeah… Yeah just, thinking.”

“I know. Me too.” Lumina rubs at his stubble, thumb circling the one spot hair never seems to grow. He turns, kissing her palm. “I missed you,” he whispers. “Feels like I shouldn’t.”

“We’re fucked up,” she tells him. “’S why we work.”

Din thrusts after that, slow and cautious movements soon turning fast, needy. He fucks into her like its his dying day. She takes it all and begs for more.

Lumina releases first, without warning. He feels her tightening, her squirms, hears his name pass from her lips.

“Din.”

He comes after, her sound the key to nirvana. His mind fogs, muscles weaken, filling her. Pulling out, he collapses besides her, panting.

She looks over.

“I still love you,” she says, catching her breath. “That part was never a lie.”

Fuck.

---

The air is sweet, comforting when Lumina wakes. She faces the Mandalorian’s bare back, running her fingers over every scar. She could stare at him for the rest of eternity and at last know peace.

The suns have yet to rise, the room is dark. She is the most herself she has felt in ages.

This is halcyon remembered.

Gods she could die now and find no bitterness in what awaits.

Lumina smiles, she can’t believe she remembers how to do that, leaning her head on him. Whatever this is, it is real. He is real. It is good. It is just, it is right.

Daybreak cannot come soon enough. The stars have been fun but she aches for the suns warmth.

Lumina kisses his shoulder, settling into her pillow. She’ll try to sleep again, fluttering nerves aside. The sooner to sleep the sooner she’ll wake again. He will be here, they will go to the Marshal together and he will see how she’s grown. He will see her maturity, her politics, her good will.

He’ll be so impressed he’ll retrieve the Child from Peli Motto. They’ll all be together again.

She runs her hands through her hair, the shortened length still not familiar. She should clean it up before departure, Fennec would do it for her.

Lumina decides she is being silly, those are plans for later, this is now. She should enjoy right now. And she does.

Until that is, Din begins to stir.

She doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to wait for him. She’s been too forward in every regard, the calls will be his for now. She assumes that is the correct choice to make.

So Lumina continues to lay, just as she has been. She does not move, she does not speak. She only watches.

She watches Din’s shoulders move, she watches him sigh. He does not sound particularly pleased, but he never has enjoyed waking in the middle of the night.

He sits up, moving his feet off the bed. Then, he stands. He dresses. Undergarments, pants, top. Piece by piece his armor reattaches, each a subtle click.

He hasn’t looked at her once.

Lumina isn’t smiling, she doesn’t know what to do.

So she does nothing.

Din sits again, the bed caving in. He pulls out his boots from under the bed, shoving them on. He picks up his helmet and rubs at a scuff.

He puts it on.

Hiss. Click.

He leaves.

Lumina sits up, pulling the sheets to cover her exposure. 

Maybe he’s gone to the kitchen, thirsty. He’ll come back, she’s sure of it.

He will.

She’ll wait until he does.

An hour passes, then half the next.

Her room is still dark, her stomach sick. Sunlight may have been too hasty a request. She would settle for the moon and silver hues.

She wants nothing but moonlight.

------

CHAPTER 38: Losing Dogs

------

Taglist: @lexloon​ @jay-bel​ @xsadderdazeforeverx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @hello-th3r3​

[solitaireships]

⋆“of course i remembered, it’s your favourite!” + whoever you think it works best for 🤔 (@eveningshards)

I ended up doing this for Jayce! idk, that's just something that I feel like he would say, and I haven't written for him yet so I thought this was a good opportunity for it. I'm still not really sure I have a feel for his voice, but I'm happy with how this ficlet came out

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 952 words

Divider by saradika

A rhythmic knocking comes to Corinna’s door, drawing her attention away from the script that she’s been working on. She’s been working on this for hours now, determined to get everything to come out just right, but now she looks towards the door. It swings in, Jayce letting himself in like he’s done for years. He’s holding something behind his back with one hand, seemingly intent to hide whatever it is from view.

“Hey,” he greets, closing the door behind him with his free hand.

“Hey,” Corinna replies, spinning around in her chair. “What do you have there?”

“I figured that we could use some snacks for our break together,” Jayce says, kicking off his shoes while miraculously managing to keep whatever assortment of snacks he got hidden behind his back. 

“We’re mixing things up a little bit then, huh?” Corinna asks. 

“Snacks are a pretty normal thing for a break,” he states. “But I know you hate breaks and relaxing and all that kind of stuff, so I guess you wouldn’t have thought about that.”

Corinna rolls her eyes but doesn’t object. She knows that she can be a bit of a workaholic, and breaks are hard for her to take. She always feels like she has to be productive, and she knows that’s true for Jayce sometimes too. That’s why the two of them ended up deciding to have these breaks together. Aside from this being a way for them to get a little time away from their work, it’s a chance for them to enjoy a little time together. 

She wishes that she had more time to spend with Jayce. But she’ll gladly spend all the time that she can with him. 

“Well, thank you for bringing snacks. Are you going to show me what you got, or is it going to stay a secret?” Corinna asks.

Jayce huffs out a laugh, coming up to her desk to place a paper bag on it. “If you insist. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna like it.”

Corinna recognizes the logo on the bag as soon as she sees it. Mode de Vie is a fairly small bakery, but it’s one of her favorites. She’s always been picky about sweet things, but their blend of Piltovan pastries with Ionian cuisine makes it so none of their offerings are too sweet for her to handle. She’s been there plenty of times, and even mentioned to Jayce she likes it a couple times too, but she didn’t think he’d actually remember that. 

“This is from Mode de Vie,” Corinna manages to force out. 

“It is,” Jayce confirms. 

“You remembered I like their stuff.”

“Of course I remembered, it’s your favorite,” Jayce says. 

He says it like it’s no big deal, like it should be expected that everyone would know automatically. And for a moment it feels to her like it should be something natural, that she shouldn’t have to ask people to respect what she does or doesn’t like.

“Thank you,” Corinna says because that’s all she can think to say. 

It doesn’t feel like enough, though. Instead she tries to convey her gratitude without words in a way that Jayce will understand. If there’s one thing that she knows about Jayce from years of friendship, it’s that he likes physical affection. So she pulls him into a hug, her arms tight around his middle. Her head is all but pressed against his chest, and this is far more intimate than anything else they’ve done in the years that they’ve known each other.

It takes Jayce a second to hug Corinna back. She’s pretty sure it’s just because he’s surprised she was the one to initiate contact, but part of her is always worried that she’s pushing too hard. It’s hard for her to tell what people are thinking about her, and the last thing she wants to do is push Jayce of all people away.

But when he hugs her, she doesn’t have anything to worry about. There’s a comfort from being this close to Jayce that Corinna tells herself is just because they’ve been friends for so long. But it would be impossible not to feel safe with his arms around her, not when she knows just how strong he is from years of work in the forge and sculpting his body like the metal he works with.

Corinna tries not to think too much about Jayce’s body, or how pretty his eyes look. She keeps things normal between them, because if there’s one thing she never wants, it’s to be rejected by Jayce and risk losing her friendship with him. 

He’s far sweeter than the pasteries he brought her. She wants to keep him in her life forever. 

“This is a very good thank you,” Jayce says after a second. Corinna can hear the playful grin in his voice. 

She realizes she’s probably been hugging him too long. The pull away from him is awkward, but she tries not to focus on that either. 

“Yeah. Well, uh, did you want to hear some of the stuff I’m working on? We can share some of the stuff you brought while I do,” Corinna says. Hopefully this will put them on the path back to normal. 

“Sure thing,” Jayce says, moving around to take a seat on the edge of Corinna’s bed. “Hit me with it. Anything new going on with Acantha and Medea?”

“I’ve got some ideas. Maybe I could bounce some off of you?” Corinna says. 

“Sure. But you’re always gonna be the better storyteller that I am.”

Corinna can’t help a little smile at that, though she’s quick to regain her composure. “Alright. Well, here’s what I’ve been working on.”

[teruel-a-witch]

austen's emma inspired (modern) au of season 2 mcdanno

steve gets fed up with what he perceives as danny pining for rachel when she's clearly not worth it and his friend deserves better so he leaves for a few weeks of training with the navy reserves, without telling danny why he left, of course.

as the time of his homecoming nears, lori approaches danny because she thinks he would have the best intel on whether or not steve is into her. danny doesn't want to be mean but privately he scoffs at the idea because steve was so against having lori on the team and seemed to dislike/mistrust her for the longest time.

he is, however, curious of the timing of why lori is asking now, and she surprises him by saying that she used to think steve definitely wasn't interested but recent events have indicated that he might like her after all, particularly citing the hike steve recently dragged her to (as a team bonding activity) and how he carried her back in his arms when she twisted her ankle.

danny assures her it means nothing as steve has taken him on multiple hikes and he would have carried anyone who was hurt the big showy oaf he is which makes lori bristle 'i knew you had a thing for him too and you are jealous, that's why you don't want it to be true, just admit it'.

danny goes to automatically deny it, but the incident makes him think and re-evaluate things. why does the idea of steve having feelings for lori make his skin crawl? why can't he stand the thought of them flirting and happy at the office every day? that's when he's hit with the realisation that the only person steve should be with is him. danny. he didn't realize why he enjoyed steve's undivided attention and being the most important person in his life until he was faced with the possibility of someone else taking that place.

he also re-evaluates the handcuff incident and steve's strange over-reaction which now makes it seem like steve was jealous! over lori! just his luck that danny realised his feelings for steve when he's already halfway to being in love with someone else. what's worse he now has to play supportive best friend™ and encourage steve to follow his heart because he does want him to be happy.

meanwhile, steve had thought that putting the distance between himself and danny would help him get a handle on his feelings, but it just makes him miss him more, even unrelated things remind him of danny and he just longs to hear his voice and see his hands move in an intricate dance of gestures and his cheeky smile when he teases steve.

he hasn't really kept in touch but somehow through the grapevine he hears about the news that rachel and stan have decided to renew their vows (because having a baby made them feel closer to each other) and of course steve can't stay away any longer! danny needs him! he has to be there for danny to comfort him and it doesn't matter that his own heart is breaking. steve will grit his teeth and bury his pain and share danny's because that's what you do for your best friend!

he travels all night just to get to danny as soon as possible and stumbles onto him almost burning down the mcgarrett kitchen. danny seems almost shell-shocked to see him and acts a little cage-y. steve tells him he's sorry and he's here for him if he needs anything.

danny is confused 'not that i don't appreciate it, but what's the occasion'. steve gently clarifies 'it's fine, you don't have to pretend with me, i know it must be a huge blow to you that rachel is re-marrying the same guy for a second time'. it dawns on danny what has steve so distressed and he even laughs a bit because it's so far off from the actual things he's been preoccupied with, giant SEAL shaped things.

it's steve's turn to be confused, because he assumed danny's voicemail meant he's not over rachel. danny has to correct him 'babe...that voicemail was from months ago, and anyway i don't think it was even about rachel, i just wanted my family back, or the idea of it, but you can never go back. holding onto the past only makes you miss the exciting future opportunities'.

steve sees his opening, of course he wasn't going to bring up his feelings but finding out danny wasn't pining for rachel made him eager to find out his chances before it's too late. 'speaking about future opportunities...'

danny realises this is it, steve is going to tell him about his designs on lori, and he just can't, he can't handle hearing it right now, so he stops steve mid-sentence with 'please don't...it'll make things awkward at work'.

the only way for steve not to look like he's been stabbed in the gut is to completely shut down and go into SEAL mode, but not fast enough to hide the hurt on his face. 'very well. as you wish, i would leave now but it's my house' he grits out. danny turns to leave but takes one last look at steve, standing there like a beautiful, cold statue, and can't stand the thought that he did that, he will force himself to listen because he has to be a good friend to steve.

danny gingerly approaches steve and takes his hand, which makes the ice sculpture thaw a little. 'i'm sorry, i was being selfish, whatever you want to say to me i will hear it, as a friend should'.

'friend...you keep using that word...dearest danno...' steve surprises danny by bringing the hand he was holding to his lips. 'if that's all we are ever going to be, i'll be happy with it, i swear, just...you know i'm bad with words and feelings and you put up with so much of my crap and you stay and have my back the way no one else ever had, and you make me feel too much to be able to put into words...tell me one thing, just one thing...do i have a chance? say something' .

danny is too shocked to speak but he's not about to let steve feel rejected again so he just drags him into the most passionate of kisses he can muster, pleased when steve responds enthusiastically.

somewhere in his happiness- and relief- and lust-addled brain a thought lingers and he pulls away 'oh, shit, lori's gonna be devastated'. then he quickly makes steve forget his confusion because poor girl didn't need more embarrassment and danny was feeling generous.

ps. danny can't say he's sorry when lori gets transferred (he is not that generous), and nothing is going to stop him from being disgustingly happy and in love both at the office and in life. maybe that dusty old english book rachel made grace read recently wasn't as ridiculous and far-fetched as he thought. 'if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more'

[thatgordongirl]

I’m not even around my friend and still thinking about all the things she’s done that have worn me down over the years. Everything she does now seems to frustrate me twice as much, like being pushy about where we sit, or judgemental about me going to play cards in the library with the group and a person she doesn’t like for literally no reason. She’s rude and when some people who don’t want to save face with her point it out, she tries to make out like we’ve misinterpreted it. She can never really communicate what she means apparently, and deliberately belittled people by accident. She told the group while I was away that she doesn’t really care about any of us because of her past friendships.

she was mad I didn’t cheer loud enough when she got an award. She expected the whole class to be silent for while we watched a movie, which is kind of understandable but it was even people who were nowhere near her and wouldn’t hinder her watching. She gets made when people she doesn’t like sit near us, but she doesn’t know them or even remember their names, so how is she a good judge of their personality? She still blows up if I stay home, so I stopped telling her. All the things I like she doesn’t really take seriously. I had an uncultured childhood because I haven’t watched all the things she’s watched. I watched a whole series for her and she couldn’t get through one episode of mine without mildly insulting it.

all of the things I care about are secondary to the better stuff she has, that I should be participating in. She makes a big deal out of her birthday and tells us things to get but literally never buys anything for anyone else. She makes me feel mad the minute she walks in the room. Having her near me is sometimes such a tense feeling, I’m worried I’ll do the wrong thing or not give the right answer. I feel a bad but just her being somewhere automatically ruins it a little for me. It’s not like she’s never tried, but it’s few and far between. Her help or advice feels overshadowed by all these hurtful things she’s said that she doesn’t me. I feel like she picked up some manipulative behaviour from the past and feels so much that she’s always the victim she can’t see from others point of view.

I have to keep being around her, even if I cut her off, we are in mostly the same classes and always with each other. There’s nothing I can do, but I’m tired and I think she noticed that I’ve stopped messaging over holiday breaks

[trans-girl-nausicaa]

tumblr choose your own adventure: part 18

STATS:

AGGRESSION: 4

CAUTION: 0

HOMOSEXUALITY: 8

ENDURANCE: 1

SKILL: 4

INVENTORY:

[Wallet] [Cash: $14.50]

[Mobile phone] [Battery: 100%]

[Keys]

[Antique Czech Typewriter] [Ink ribbons: 0]

[Antique Czech Lighter] [Fuel level: 1000%]

[Antique CZ 75 Pistol, 9mm, Automatic] [Ammunition: 50]

[Sharpened Metal Stake]

>Let Bunny sleep in your bed, and you will sleep in Louisiana’s bed.

“Hey, it’s getting really late. I need to get some sleep,” you say.

“Bunny, do you have a place to stay for the night? How far did you travel to get here, anyway?”

Bunny pauses, thinking. “Uhh… Well, I… Yeah it was a couple hundred miles I guess… I didn’t really realize how long it would take to get here, so… I don’t really have a gameplan for sleeping tonight. I do have a sleeping bag in my car, or I could find a motel,”

“No way. I can’t let you wander around at this hour. It’s not really safe these days,” you object.

“You DID give me some pretty solid advice, and supplies. Take my bed for the night. I’ll bunk with Lou,” you offer.

Louisiana nods emphatically.

Bunny tries to object, but you and Louisiana bowl her over with hospitality. You hang up her jacket and backpack in your hall closet, Louisiana offers her some pajamas, and before long everyone is getting bedded down for the night.

Yep, everything is totally fine. You’ve resolved the situation perfectly.

You’re in Louisiana’s room, climbing the ladder of her lofted bed. There’s not a ton of room, but neither of you mind.

It’s just like a sleepover. Or camping.

Right?

You get to the top of the ladder and see that Louisiana isn’t asleep yet.

She’s sitting up in bed, her comforter drawn to her waist, and she’s wearing a pink camisole.

Not that it matters what she’s wearing.

You’re definitely not thinking about what she’s wearing. You see her almost every day. Why should today be any different?

You get under the covers beside her.

You lie down on your side facing away from her.

You lay there for a while, trying to sleep. You feel Louisiana lie down.

“It’s been a really crazy couple of days,” you hear Louisiana say, in a low, sleepy voice.

“Are you doing okay?” she asks.

You’re surprised by the question, and you turn around. You’re now facing her, your noses inches apart.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you find yourself saying.

You’re not sure if it’s true or not.

“Well, I haven’t really had time to process everything,” you qualify.

“Mmhmm,” says Louisiana.

“I definitely need a good night’s sleep,” you say.

“Had some really weird dreams last night.”

“What kind of dreams?” she asks.

“Oh, I hardly remember now,” you say.

“Something about a castle.”

You turn around again, facing away from her.

She doesn’t say anything else.

You hear her breathing. Not that you’re listening. It’s just very quiet in the room, so that’s a thing you can hear.

Her breathing slows. She’s probably asleep now.

She mumbles something. Right, you forgot, sometimes she talks in her sleep.

“razzum frazzum,” she mumbles.

Ok, yeah, sometimes her sleeptalking is just gibberish.

“friendly,” she says, still asleep, and you feel an arm curl over your shoulders and pull you towards her.

Oh. Okay. She’s cuddling you in her sleep.

This is fine. This is fine. Just go to sleep.

Your heart is pounding. You are not feeling sleepy at all.

You try not to think about the pink camisole.

Your HOMOSEXUALITY stat has increased by 1.

WHAT?!

Your heart rate skyrockets. You gingerly pull Louisiana’s arm off you. She mercifully stays asleep.

You get up and climb down the ladder of her loft bed.

You leave her room. You pace around the apartment a few times, being mindful to step quietly.

You pull out your phone and type “are stats ever inaccurate” in a search engine.

You get a resounding “no.”

Stats don’t lie.

Shit.

You weigh your options.

You could try to sleep on the couch. You hate sleeping on couches, and your couch is small and uncomfortable.

You could kick Bunny out of your bed. But that would be a dick move. You can’t withdraw hospitality once offered.

You could just grin and bear it.

Ugh. Yeah. You are the one getting stupid and unreasonable here, so you should be the one to suck it up.

Just try and act normal.

You go to the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. You take a chewable melatonin tablet and pop it in your mouth.

You’re just going to go back in there, lie down, and go to sleep as fast as possible, and ignore whatever your stupid stats or stupid feelings are telling you.

Wait. “Feelings?”

Are you-

Nope. You’re not going to use that word. It’s really stupid to use that word. You’re not going to use that word. It’s just not applicable here. It SHOULDN’T be applicable here.

Not that you have anything against Louisiana. She’s a very nice lady. Hell, she’s a knockout. She’s not the problem here. She’s always been very considerate to you and she’s been there for you during some really bad times. She’s probably the only person who really saw you at your lowest.

You’re doing way better these days, but… She’s, like, out of your league.

Nope.

Don’t think about “leagues,” or who’s in which one, or pink camisoles, or “feelings.”

This is stupid. Nobody is dating anybody.

Especially not roommates.

Especially not best friends.

First of all, you don’t torpedo your living situation. That’s not something you do. Getting rejected by your roommate is a sure recipe for making your living situation really fucking awkward. Or, possibly but less likely, dating your roommate, moving too fast because Duh, You Live Together, and then breaking up, that also torpedoes your living situation.

Second of all, you don’t torpedo your most important friendship. The one friendship you don’t want to fuck with. The one person you don’t want to lose. Or worse, hurt.

Third of all, you now have fucking vampires to think about. Even if everything else weren’t a factor, now is not the time for fucking FEELINGS to happen.

Oh, great, you used the word again.

Okay, time to go to sleep. Time to stop thinking about this. It’s late and your mind is running away from you. You’re overthinking things AGAIN.

You think the melatonin is working now.

You stop pacing around the apartment and sneak back to Louisiana’s door. You open it slowly. The lights are still off, she is still asleep.

You climb the ladder of her lofted bed.

She’s asleep, laying on her side, facing away from you. Good.

You lie down, facing away from her.

You lie there for a while, until you start to feel uncomfortable. You roll over. The back of her head is inches from your face. Her hair smells nice.

You finally fall asleep.

You dream.

You’re in a stone chamber, lit by a single torch. Haven’t you been here before?

There is a well in the center of the room.

You look into the well.

It is empty.

There is a ladder inside of the well.

You climb down, down, down, and reach the bottom.

It’s dry.

At your feet, at the bottom of the well, is a small red faceted gemstone.

It emits a faint red light.

[mari-lair]

Wip of the next chapter of 'I'll just invite (you) myself'. This one is an oldie.

Word Count: 2,2K

Ship: Terukane

.

“Honourable Manager” Akane greeted once Hanako picked up the phone, “There is a delivery for you, come get it.”

“For little old me?” Hanako sounded a bit suspicious but still audibly delighted “How exciting! I’ve been so busy lately, can you deliver it to me?”

“No-”

“Wonderful, I’ll expect you here soon!” And the line dropped.

Akane’s eye twitched but he still flew to his manager’s room, knocking on his door and being greeted a few seconds later “Hello, Akane-kun~”

“It’s Aoi to you.” He corrected, giving him the letter.

“But we have known each other for so long!” Hanako insisted, his pout dropping once he touched the letter. The vampire blinked, growing a bit nervous after giving it a proper look “...This has the Minamoto symbol on it.”

“And?”

“They kill monsters.”

“Not my letter, not my problem” Akane waved him off, teleporting back to his desk. His body got heavier at the abuse of his small magic reserves but he ignored it, having been through worse.

Time passed slowly, Akane got so absorbed rewriting the hotel documents in non-cursive handwriting he was surprised to hear Hanako’s voice when he automatically grabbed the ringing phone “Hello again, my dear clerk! Turn out you’re already caught up with your work! You’re such a hard worker.”  He cooed “You earned yourself a break~”

Akane blinked, surprised Teru’s stunt actually worked, if he were honest he kind of expected Hanako to freak out but keep giving him work regardless, the vampire has always been a fan of pushing his luck.

“...Does that mean I can stop rewriting these?”

“Sure, leave them in my bedroom.”

Okay…?

Akane stared at the document he was working on, the page half in cursive, half not, and decided to at least finish this page before dropping it on Hanako’s door.

He waited for a trick but there was no surprise call after dropping the documents on Hanako’s desk.

Maybe… He really got a break.

Akane smiled a bit, going to his bedroom and falling face first on his sweet bed, hoping to fall asleep right away from fatigue but still wide awake, thinking about his eventful day.

Aoi and Teru know each other now. Teru would take them with him if he manages to run away. Teru trusts him.

He had convinced himself Teru only trusted him with his soul because of the lack of options at first, but now he wasn’t so sure. Teru seems far fonder of fairies than demons, he should be telling everything to Aoi, and yet, there was a hint of wariness with Aoi, refusing to disclose the goal behind his visit with her. He should have been eager to put all his trust in her if options were all he needed.

Teru isn’t plain crazy, he genuinely trusts Akane.

The more he stared at the ceiling, the more restless he felt.

He had been too tired to realize at the time, but when he went to his room he hasn’t felt weak either. Teru did not take the charm for evil down, paranoid as he is, so he must have gone out of his way to give Akane immunity.

It didn’t make sense. Teru doesn’t make sense.

.

“Aoi-chan!” He flew to her side, finally having free time after a nice 4 hours of sleep “Good morning!”

“Morning Akane-kun” She smiled “How have you and your master been?”

“Good, the honorable manager gave me a break, and my master must still be asleep.” he better be, humans need more than 4 hours of sleep “So I can stay with you!”

“Wonderful,” She smiled “Do you want to brush my hair? It’s been a while since I changed it up”

“Of course!” His tail wagged “Do you want a hairstyle in specific or to just brush?”

“Twin braids would be nice.”

“Sure! Let’s go outside, I’ll go get a brush and a few hair ties”

.

There are no sunny days in the Ghost Hotel, sometimes it feels as if there is no sun at all, but the clouds varied. Today the mist was thin, and the sky was a lighter shade of grey, making the surroundings less gloomy than usual.

They sat down under a dead tree, the grass damp from the neverending mist.

Aoi-chan is a good friend, she always appreciates and cherishes him, but she will never fall in love. He has read enough books on fairies after accidentally disrespecting her name to understand that they are creatures born of pure magic, incapable of romance or lust, his love is destined to remain one-sided forever. 

Akane gently brushed his best friend’s hair, unable to stop the wave of affection and devotion he felt when her wings playfully fluttered, messing her half-done braid and forcing him to start again from scratch, needing it to be perfect. 

She can’t even ask ‘would you stay a bit longer?’ without playing games. She’s such a haughty fairy, no amount of pastel frills and cute smiles could hide it.

It’s strange, how difficult she can get, yet how easy it is to love her. Truthfully, he is no longer hurt that she’ll never love him back, for as long as she stays entertained by his affection, he’ll keep playing the lovesick fool, giving his heart on a platter time and time again.

“Akane-kun?”

“Yes?” He asked, brushing her hair and measuring her soft strands, making sure the braid was symmetrical.

“Do you think your master can do it?” She kept staring ahead, her voice serene.

He understood her question right away, remembering only one of Teru’s offers had been able to catch her attention  “He’s our best chance. If he can’t get us out of this cursed place, I frankly don’t know who would.”

“You trust him.”

“Yes,” It wasn’t a question but he confirmed anyway, surprised by how easy it was to answer “...My master isn’t an easy person, frankly, he can be very cruel, but he keeps his word. If he said he’ll get us out of here, he’ll do it.”

Her wings tensed up but she still sounded calm “I see.” She tucked her legs to her chest “You’ve been outside before, do you like it?”

“I do” He softened “Trust me when I say a clear sunrise is magical” He imagined her flying far away from this dreary hotel, feeling light “I  know a nice beach in the living world with the prettiest view! Have you ever been to a beach, Aoi-chan?”

“No.” She said, “I heard it’s a big lake near the sand?”

“It’s more than a big lake;” He chuckled fondly, his tail lazily swinging in the grass “When we get out of here I’ll show it to you.”

“Sounds lovely,” She looked at the grey sky, almost making him mess up her braids again. They fell into a pleasant silence.

.

Akane was chilling in his room, taking his break as an opportunity to organize his laughably empty room, when the phone rang.

Only three people had access to his personal phone. 

“Hello?”

“Aoi?” Teru sounded sleepy “Come here, is game night.”

Akane frowned, but he dropped his chores to indulge the exorcist anyways, cursing as he flew off.

.

It started raining out of nowhere. An annoyingly common occurrence in this hotel.

Akane may not be as crazy for warm as the demons of hell, but he still hated cold water, so he screeched like a disgruntled cat and teleported to the newest dry place he could detect, flapping the water off his wings and cursing the weather.

“I see you don’t like the rain.”

“This is a storm” Akane unconsciously frowned at the cheerful voice, realizing he was in the chapel, having popped in while his master was drawing runes. “No one likes storms.”

“I find them delightful,” Teru shared with an unreadable smile “Have you ever got caught in the eye of a storm before, Aoi? It makes you feel truly insignificant.”

Akane spared his master a tired look, taking his soaked jacket off and shaking himself like a wet dog, accidentally launching his uniform hat across the chapel in the process. Thankfully his T-shirt was still dry.

Teru stared blanky at him. 

“...What?” Akane raised a brow, straightening his wings and tail in alert. 

Teru did not break eye contact as he took a sip of one of his holy water flasks.

“What the hell are you doing??”

“...It’s for a ritual” Teru waved him off, “Are you going to stay until the storm passes?”

Akane waited for an elaboration, feeling like his explanation was iffy, but he gave up at Teru’s expectant look, chalking it as another of his many shady secrets “...Yes, is there anything you need?”

“I would appreciate some help cutting the nightshades.” He smiled “Your fairy also left urucum seed that needs to be crushed” 

“Do you have knives that aren’t made of silver?”

He gave one with a wooden handle “Is this good enough?”

Akane nodded.

They worked in pleasant silence, the sound of heavy rain comforting once you got used to it. Thankfully it wasn’t a thunderstorm, Aoi got scared of thunder, hopefully, she’s warm and safe right now.

“Did your manager cut off any unnecessary work?” Teru broke the silence, having finished up his runes.

“I am on a break from my hotel duties” He admitted “What did you even do? It worked too well.”

“My family has a reputation for surviving curses and killing vampires.” He smiled coldly “I just used it for my benefit”

.

Akane frowned at the broken plate, then glanced back at Teru, who went back to focus on writing unfamiliar dialects on ripped paper strips, comfortable leaving his back exposed.

Teru trusts him.

(And yet he still makes a mess for him to clean up.)

Akane glared at the porcelain shards on the ground, picking them up and gently placing them on the table.

“Anything else I should do?”

“You just broke a plate and you won’t even try to fix it?” He smiled in that strange way that wasn’t kind nor sadistic, completely ignoring that he was the one to drop the thing “Go glue it back”

So nothing. Great. He loves working overtime for no reason. How long does he think it takes to mend back plates? If he even manages that…

Akane froze at the shards in his palm, feeling an odd sense of familiarity from his attitude. 

Did Teru want to stay with him longer, he was just too prideful to say it?

…That sounded far-fetched.

…Was it the same with the needles? He haven’t poked him nearly as much when he had been meticulous and slow on his stitching.

oh

oh

It was as if a piece of the puzzle fell into place, his suspicions Teru might genuinely enjoy his company pretty nice. He has been very vulnerable with him… Are they friends? He isn’t sure, Akane doesn’t have many friends.

He wouldn’t be against it.

“Are you thinking of Akane-san in the middle of work?” Teru raised a brow 

“What?” He gave him a puzzled look, feeling mortified when Teru pointed at his tail, which was lazily wagging.

That's embarrasing.

“Shush it oh great Mina-” He paused, frowning at the lack of pain in his chest and warily saying “...Minamoto.”

Nothing happened.

What the fuck?

“Teru Minamoto”

“That is my name.” Teru seemed amused.

“ I can not call you master??” He frowned, in disbelief “Since when?!”

“Since the beginning.” Teru chuckled, “ I said ‘call me master’ not ‘only address me as master.”

“...So I was only forced once,” 

“Yes,” His eyes crinkled,  “You have called me ‘bastard’ plenty with no repercussions, have you not?” 

oh wow

Akane blushed, feeling like a fucking idiot.

.

“Why did you sell your soul?”

“My parents got sick, it keep getting worse every hour and the doctors didn’t know how to help” Akane admitted, clenching his fists as he reminded of that day “My teacher had always been nice to me, so when I went to tell him I would be absent and explained the situation, he gave me a ritual book. It had the same markings I had seen on my mom’s back so I read it”

He was so stupid.

“The book said it was a curse, they only had 1 more day to live.” 

He could feel Teru’s eyes on him, sure he was judging him for not calling an exorcist. Stupid. He was such a stupid teen, not wanting to think about the occult even when it suffocated him.

“I didn’t have the time to go to the library hunt for more information so I read the entire book I was given, I was sure I had everything under control, I had checked every ridiculously complicated rude thrice and done all steps” He clenched his fists, feeling anxious just thinking about it “The demon I summoned was a little girl.”

He hated them, he despises them so much. He had done so well shoving the memory aside but now he is enraged again “I did my research after that, learned Kako was the one to curse my parents in the first place. The book was a sham, protection charm my ass, it was a sacrifice ritual. I drew my own death sentence “ He spat, feeling his entire body heat up with rage “Apparently they thought my soul was ‘nice’, that I was diligent enough to not mess up the runes.”

Teru just stared, unreadable. It made his skin prickle, not helping with his boiling anger.

“What?”

“...I wish i had met you before” Teru said, “Do you think we could be friends?”

“Would you have used the same chocolate approach you did with Aoi-chan?”

Teru frowned, his silence enough of an answer for Akane to laugh “No way, I would avoid you.”

Teru hit him in the back of the head. Nearly pouty.

[lythea-creation]

Changes - Nadeen x fem reader (Chapter 1)

summary: A lot had changed over the last months, especially (f/n)'s twin sister Hiba who seemed to hate (f/n) now. When (f/n) has given up on making any new friends, Nadeen suddenly intrudes her life in the best way possible.

warnings: bullying

word count: 1.161

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated! If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

----------------------

“Head in the books once again?”, Hiba mocked me, snatching the book out of my hands.

“Cut the crap, Hiba”, I shot back annoyed.

Why did she always have to get on my nerves?

Her friends were staring and laughing at us, obviously enjoying the show.

“Just give it back”, I requested, stretching my hand out to her.

“Nah”, she uttered and threw the book over her shoulder to the front of the classroom.

Without another word I rose and got it back, not granting her the satisfaction of seeing my inner turmoil at her behavior.

“I can't believe she's your sister”, Tasneem proclaimed chuckling.

“Me neither. She's such a loser”, Hiba noted.

It had not always been like that. There had actually been times when we had loved each other more than anything else. But I guessed that had died together with mom.

“Here you go”, Nadeen stated after picking up the book for me and handing it over.

“Thanks”, I mumbled, forcing myself to smile at her when everything inside of me wanted to scream.

“That book looks cool”, she remarked, eyeing the cover.

“It is. You could borrow it if you want to. I'm almost finished anyway. Should only take the break to wrap it up”, I offered before even thinking about it.

“Great”, she rejoiced, sending a grin my way.

I kept my promise by giving her my book in the bus, before moving to a seat as far away from Hiba as possible. I was not keen on triggering another outburst of cruelty.

Yet I could not escape her when it was time to get off the bus. But instead of talking to me, she brushed past me making sure to bump into my shoulder in the process.

Luckily we had separate rooms. Otherwise I would probably lose my mind.

I threw myself onto my bed and checked my social media, talking to some of my friends. Unfortunately they were attending another school than me and lived a thirty minute drive away. So I did not see them too often.

I almost dropped my phone onto my bed when it suddenly started buzzing. But my mood quickly brightened at the name and picture of my best friend on my display.

“Hey, Sam”, I greeted her, the nickname automatically falling from my lips.

It was a video call and therefore I could see her frown at me.

“Hey, what happened? You look like shit”, she proposed.

“Thanks”, I replied sarcastically. “Just the typical stuff.”

“Hiba again?”, she reassured.

“I dunno what's up with her. She just loves taunting me”, I assumed.

“Still hard to believe that she turned into such a bitch”, Sam pointed out. “She used to be so sweet.”

“She just doesn't talk to me anymore”, I enlightened her. “I never know what's running through her mind.”

“Tell me about it. My siblings are the exact opposite, but still getting on my nerves in another way”, she claimed. “And here they come.”

Her two little brothers had burst into the room, creating chaos everywhere around. I did not question it when Sam hung up without any warning.

I sighed as I let go of my phone. Lately it was all feeling so worthless. I had pretty much no social life.

I spent the rest of my day staying in my room and reading another book. It was the only thing that could keep my mind from spiraling.

The next day Nadeen settled on the bus seat beside me. “Hey! I started reading the book and it's awesome. How did you pick it up?”

“I got it from my mom's collection”, I revealed.

“You have a whole collection?”, she questioned astonished. “What a life ...”

“You could always borrow one if you want to”, I offered.

“Are you kidding?”, she reassured.

“Of course not”, I promised.

“You're the best! Honestly I kinda feel bad though. I don't wanna use you for your books. How about hanging out sometime? But please not at your place unless Hiba isn't home”, she considered.

“I could come over to yours”, I suggested.

“Great! Just give me your number and I'll send you my address”, she agreed.

Said and done.

Afterwards Nadeen moved over to her usual spot next to Sarah. So I decided to listen to music with my headphones. The only thing that could compete with my love for books.

The school day passed by excruciatingly slowly, like time used to do for me by now. That was the thing when you did not have anything to look forward to.

But it changed when I got a message in the afternoon. A simple “Hi, it's Nadeen. Here's my address (…).”, followed by: “You can pretty much come over whenever. Even today if u want to.”

So it was a decision between reading and potentially making a new friend. Spending most of my free time in my room for the last few months was making this decision easy.

My phone was telling me that Nadeen's house was about a thirty minute walk away. So I did not have to consider to bike over. My bike was not exactly my best friend for countless reasons.

“Hey! You made it! Come on in”, Nadeen encouraged me as soon as she had opened the front door.

She did not hesitate to lead me to her room, getting a glass of water for me on the way.

The minute I entered her room my eyes were drawn to all the posters on her walls. A room could tell you a lot about the person and Nadeen seemed to be a fan of true crime and horror.

“Want some popcorn? I just started watching a movie”, she offered while sitting down on the bed and pointing to a bowl.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks”, I shot back taking some.

“You know you can sit down, right?”, she reassured, her voice slightly laced with amusement.

“Right”, I remarked and dropped down onto her bed. “I haven't been at someone's house for so long. It feels like I don't know how to hang out anymore.”

“Well with me it's basically chilling on the bed and watching some movie or talking, maybe playing some games or reading together”, she enlightened me.

“Sounds great”, I noted.

“Glad to hear that”, she proposed. “So what is it with you and Hiba?”

She took herself a hand full of popcorn.

“Sibling stuff, I guess. She turned into a jerk and I didn't wanna support that. Now I'm basically her nemesis and everyone stays away from me to not get on her bad side”, I explained.

“Wow ...”, Nadeen uttered. ���Nah, I'm not scared of her.”

“Glad to hear that”, I repeated her words from earlier.

---------------------

So here's the first chapter of my new Nadeen series. What do you think about it? It will also be a lot about the relationship with Hiba. So it's kinda a two in one.

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[agonycrossbow]

Eagleone is so compelling because their relationship doesn't end when the game does. The dynamic that they have in canon will actually carry over into their everyday lives when they're home, but... they're home now. It's different now. Their relationship is Not Normal, and they both know it even if they'd never acknowledge it out loud -- even to each other. And they have to find some way to live with themselves and also each other within the confines of mundane reality after escaping from a waking nightmare together.

It's the possibilities that pop up around that kind of conflict.

It's them at the same government function and locking eyes with each other from across the room until they can't bear to keep it up anymore. Ashley nervously draws her gaze down and to the side to look at nothing. Leon puts his hands in his pockets and quietly clears his throat, trying to tell himself that the anxious fluttering rising up from the center of his chest isn't there.

It's the way they still try to pass their tiny touches back and forth -- because they both feel the need to be in physical contact with each other for reassurance -- but they both know without saying aloud that they have to be much more subtle and natural about it in order to not raise eyebrows.

It's Leon sitting nervous whenever he's alone in the room with the President, because he's terrified he's been too obvious about even the quiet, subtle affections he's given Ashley since they've been home. He's sure he's going to get the "stay away from my daughter" talk any day now -- despite the fact that even those little affections have been infrequent and wholly innocent -- but it never comes.

It's the way that Leon has to physically choke back the urge to put himself between Ashley and anyone who gets too close to her. That's not his job -- and, in fact, it was an offer he knows he consciously turned down -- but it's an automatic impulse that he never fully trains himself out of.

It's Ashley making sure that she doesn't ask her dad about Leon too often as to be suspicious or annoying -- which equates to her doing it almost never, even though the desire to is always at the forefront at her mind, and not a day goes by that she doesn't think about him.

It's the way they just ignore the growing tension between them from their forced distance apart. It goes on for days, then weeks, then months -- until they can't ignore it anymore. They're not sure who kissed who first, but Leon has both hands buried in her hair, and she has one hand curled into the lapel of his suit jacket and another hooked around the knot of his tie, pulling him ever closer. Before long, he has her back pressed against the wall and her skirt hiked up just far enough to tuck the tips of his fingers beneath the hem of her panties. She can't get the buttons of his shirt open fast enough before pushing the fabric around his shoulders and down the length of his arms. Leon knows that he should stop this -- that this is wrong -- but Ashley's hands on his bare skin has him feeling normal for the first time in almost seven years, and he can't stop kissing her like the cure for his nightmares is written somewhere on the surface of her tongue.

It's Ashley on her back and running her fingers through Leon's sweat-damp hair as he hovers over her, eyes closed and head bowed as he tries to catch his breath and recover in the afterglow. Drops of sweat fall from his brow and the tip of his nose onto her bare chest and neck, and she lets them lay where they land. He's beautiful from this angle, and she so desperately wants to allow the words "I love you" tumble from her lips, but she holds back out of fear that, if she said aloud the truth they've refused to speak for so long, he'd put a stop to their now-repeated yet still infrequent midnight trysts. He kisses her slowly -- gratefully -- as he takes hold of one of her hands and weaves his fingers between hers. Her heart aches. Even though she has him for this moment, she still can't call him hers.

At least

I mean

That's what does it for me about the ship idk about you LMAO

[livwritesfics]

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐑𝐀𝐍 (𝐈 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘)

𝟏𝟎 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐔 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 - 𝐋𝐢𝐯 ☆ - Wattpad

You can read on either my ao3 or my wattpad! Also posted down below!

Law realized he had feelings for Luffy when he met him at Punk Hazard. This boy that he met... There was something about him that made Law's heart go thump, thump, thump.

I never thought I'd meet a boy like you,

The way Luffy would just jump into trouble just like that annoyed him to no end. However, Law didn't have it in his heart to get mad at him. He just couldn't! And even if he did, he couldn't stay mad at him forever. Whenever he wanted to stay mad, that face just automatically made him smile all over again. His smile, his eyes.

The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through, hypnotize me through.

Law knew that if he wanted to be in an alliance with him he shouldn't get attached. But Luffy was like a drug. He always wanted to be around him. Having Luffy's beautiful eyes on him and only him. But, he knew from experience that he shouldn't. All the people he knew and loved disappeared just like that. And just like that he was alone all over again. Law knew he couldn't feel that all over again. It would tear him apart.

And I ran, I ran so far away.

But no matter how much Law tried to separate himself from Luffy, he. Just. Couldn't. Get. Away. His feelings would grow stronger. So strong that he would blush at everything he did. This boy had so much of an effect on him. He wanted more.

I couldn't get away.

This entire thing was stressing Law out. He wanted to see if he could ask Luffy's archaeologist, Robin, for help but... He couldn't. It would be so embarrassing.

Eventually his feelings grew so out of control that he went one day to the library on the Sunny, to ask her for advice.

He knocked on the library door, trying to seem a little confident. Robin looked up from her book and motioned for him to come in.

"Law-kun, what brings you to the library?" She put a bookmark in her book and closed it.

Law scratched the back of his head trying to form the question he's been asking himself for weeks now. Robin, patient as ever, waited for him.

He was fussing so much over this that he groaned and put his head in his hands.

"I... I don't know what I should do." He said quietly. He leaned back into the chair and finger-combed his hair. "I really just don't... know anymore."

Robin grinned knowingly and put her head on her hand, "Is this about my captain?"

Law leaned forward and looked at her. She knows. Law nodded slowly.

"I see. What does your head tell you to do?"

Law looked at her confused. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think you should do?"

He thought for a moment. That's easy. He thinks he shouldn't be with him because... he could loose him in battle against Doflamingo. They were on their way to Dressrosa.

"My head... tells me that I shouldn't be with him. And that this alliance should be strictly professional." The words tasted horrible on his tongue. He wanted to gag.

"Mhm." Robin pondered his response. "And what about your heart? What does your heart want?"

All of a sudden Law pictured Luffy. And how much he loves to be around him. He wants him. He wants him so much.

"I want him." Law blurted out without hesitation. Law slapped a hand over his mouth and ducked his head in embarrassment as Robin laughed.

"Well, there you go."

Law immediately knew now. It doesn't matter anymore. He wants him. He needs him. He finally got his answer. He stood up abruptly and ran out of the library thanking Robin.

He went to the place he knew Luffy would be at: Sunny figurehead

Almost as if Luffy could sense that he was coming to him, he jumped off of the figurehead and stood in front of Law looking up at him. Law gasped at the beauty of him and blushed.

A beam of light comes shining down on you, shining down on you.

"I figure you want to tell me something, Torao?" He raised an eyebrow willfully.

Law took a deep breath. And instead of saying any words.... he kissed him. Right on the lips in front of everyone. Luffy gaped but melted right into the kiss.

Reached out a hand to touch your face,

Luffy wrapped his arms around Law's neck and stood on his tippie-toes. In result Law moaned into the kiss and smiled. This felt right. This felt so right.

When the kiss ended, They both smiled and giggled like idiots.

"I made this," Law laughed again, "so hard for myself. All I had to do was just go for it."

Luffy played with Law's baby hairs on the back of his head, "I was waiting for you! You took so long! I should've just made the first move myself."

Their foreheads touched and he sighed. Yes, he was scared of loosing Luffy, and loose another person he held so dear to his heart. But, Luffy makes him happy. Luffy was home.

He came home. He loves this man.

"Well, I'm sorry I made you wait. How 'bout I make it up to you." Law chuckled and smirked.

And so, they went to the Captain's Quarters. And were there for a long time.

@lawluevents