#i should probably put him in the oc category but he has enough personality in the anime to where i'm like

[shiningstages]

@flovverworks | cont. from ( x )

There's a part of Shinsuke that's...flattered. To think that all his hard work had spread to the ears of other agencies; to fledgling producers like this fine young person...Not that Shinsuke wasn't young himself, but still. He doesn't think he deserves such praise, at least not without acknowledging all that he learned from helping out the Cinderella Project girls with their problems, while also letting them figure things out for themselves in painstaking moments. He was merely just a human learning how to deal with everything like everyone else, and yet...This Masaki Akira looked up to him. His demeanor all but crumbles for a moment, blush lighting up his cheeks as he lets out a fake cough into a fist, while the other hand rubs the back of his neck. But he keeps the eye contact, unlike Akira - it's the least he could do to respect such words. While he feels completely undeserving, his honor and maturity weighs out, and he should accept all of these wishes head on. Even though -

"N-No, please, you don't have to pay me for lesson or talks." Shinsuke is quick to wave his hand in protest, his tone on slightly reflecting the true worry that such a thought brings him. He hadn't really helped train up other producers in his own company, much less in others, and he was sure 346 Productions would have his head if he helped another company while getting paid by them. The look madam CEO would give him...it sends a shiver up his spine. "Instead, um...First off, I'm honored that you think so highly of me. Though I'm still learning, the fact that my work has affected you so is...I appreciate hearing those words." He bows again, blush growing as he's unsure how to exactly take a compliment. He feels like how Chieri gets flustered at handshake events, blushy and stumbling on her words...Now he gets it completely.

"And second...We can just have a chat sometime, if you'd like?" With that, he pulls out one of his business cards, presenting it politely yet hesitantly with both of his thumbs and pointer fingers gripping either corner. "If you want to talk a little right now...Of course, the Cinderella Project's performances come first right now, but...After this set, we can go into the green room and grab some food and water. Unless 21 Wizards is on next...I wouldn't want to disrupt your time with your idols." Even now he can see New Generations in his periphery from one of the monitors, performing on stage for thousands of adoring fans. He wants to keep an eye on them...But he also trusts them do to well without him. He could pull away even if Masaki just wanted to chat a little bit, at least until Ankira needed help with their props later on...

[yuzukult]

untitled teaser | hvc & reader

title: currently untitled pairing: vernon x fem!reader/oc rating: rated m for final fic genre: angst, fluff, smut, wealthy!vernon, unrequited love!au (on both sides, it gets flipped lol... idk it's a confusing one) wc: 10k+ (ongoing) warnings: clubbing, adult themes, oc tries to seduce vernon lol, grinding...... idk just club things a/n: this is what i have been working on instead of actually finishing my own series HAHA i currently don't have a title but if you wanna give me some ideas lemme know ,,,, currently the doc title is "attention"

The burst of blackberry, a tart aroma with hints of bay leaves and cedarwood, has you intoxicated over his cologne alone. His slicked back chestnut brown hair, the calmness he exhibits, and his quiet, mysterious exterior is supposed to make him seem unnoticeable; yet for some reason, he’s always the most attention-grabbing in a room full of people.

Besides his handsome looks, he’s wealthy. The thickness of his bank account doesn’t present itself through his narrow, slim wallet, mostly because he doesn’t showcase the worth of his business unless it’s an obligation. He’s successful, yet remains humble about it; his clothes are made from the luxury brands without it embossed on the outer material, instead the names are stitched inside to keep himself modest. 

His car is the only thing that advertises the amount of digits that his business profits. The fastest, sleekest, and illustrious cars are the ones that he owns—from Corvettes to Teslas to Bentleys—he collects a plethora of them, those three barely denting all the marques, he finds himself indulging in that category and limits it to just that. Fine dining isn’t a necessity, but he does it for ventures required by his company. Expensive hotels and stays are just for comfort, but not something he needs, understanding that it’s more of a want if anything.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is just that guy.

Apart from all of that, Vernon is still an average person—other than the fact that you practically drool over the sight of him and he’s in the 1%. He’s sweet and kind, a general minimum trait that men should have, but he’s also good at overextending himself when people need him to. Last year, he hosted a gala for the Children with Cancer Foundation, earning more than enough donations and then on top of it matching the amount that was donated from others. 

Geez. Even your panties are getting drenched at the thought of him just busting out that fucking power move.

Unfortunately, as much as you boldly put yourself out there, Vernon is unavailable. Emotionally, probably, but mostly because he clearly states that you just… weren’t his type. You’re not a mirror of him; there’s never saccharine words that leave your lips unless it’s to seduce, donating to charities isn’t really on your list of priorities, and to be quite fair, you weren’t much of a charming go-getter as he is either. 

Opposites attract you’d try to justify, but to Vernon, that’s not enough.

Your gripe with Vernon isn’t because he rejected you—it’s that he rejects you but still likes to be… around you. When you’re out on Friday and Saturday nights, your mutual friends lead the group to hang, and when he hears your name included in the list of attendees, he’s there. Even after a long day of dealing with difficult people, you can expect to see Vernon there in his white dress shirt with the first couple buttons unraveled, resting on one of the couches at a table in the VIP lounge, legs parted in his trousers. 

He’s just sitting casually, but he looks like he owns the place.

“You sure you don’t wanna date?” you ask, lips almost brushing against his outer ear as he lets out a soft chuckle and brings his glass of whiskey on ice to his mouth. The music is loud, booming in the speakers of the dim club with strobe lights, making it hard to have any decent conversation but to be honest—who is even trying to talk here when their bodies should be?

“You’re pretty,” he admits, his chocolate swirls of eyes locking with yours. “And—I’m attracted to you. But for dating… you don’t really fit my criteria.” 

Criteria. He says it like he has a checklist for the girl he wants to date. 

Despite constantly hitting on him, you knew your limits for the night. Patting his clothed thigh with your manicured hands, you lean in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Okay, then I’ll leave you for the night. Maybe I’ll try again—but for now, I’m not gonna let today be ruined because Vernon Chwe said ‘no’ to me,” you smirk, pulling down the hem of your dress before standing up. Gesturing to a friend, she excitedly gets up from her seat before shuffling to you. “Let’s go dance!”

Vernon is a liar.

He likes you—a lot. The way you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as if he still can’t see how far your jaw drops when you’re cackling. His favorite view is when you’re just tipsy enough that your hooded eyes become more alluring, cheeks hot from the alcohol, and your words slurring with weighted truths to them. The last time you were drunk, you admitted that you wanted his dick in your mouth. Vulgar but… still honest.

Dating you meant drama—well, dating in general meant drama, and Vernon knows how you are. You’re not labeled a “drama queen” per se, but you are definitely quite the handful. He saw how defensive you got when a random guy at the club turned down your friend Sana because her nose was a little too big; those earrings were unlatched, dropped into Sana’s palms and somehow your shoe was in your hand, ready to swing.

Okay—he concedes. He kind of enjoys seeing you be like that.

Vernon is calm, cool, and collected. With you being the opposite, he’s not sure if being with someone that intense is good for him. You’re not who people expect to stand by his side when he’s at a banquet or when he’s on those business trips—your party lifestyle reminds him of those people who don’t ever settle, live on breaking hearts, and he’s partially afraid he’ll just be another number on your list of another one you’ll hurt. 

Not to mention that he’s not entirely sure that you’re the type of girl his parents would like if they met you.

You’re entertaining, he’ll agree to that, but you're far from someone who could be his more. You’re aggressive, overly outspoken, and worst of all, you do weird things to him.

You’re the cause for his heart stuttering—he almost mistook it for a heart attack—and you’re the reason why he paces back and forth when he accidentally said something that was borderline offensive in the midst of vetoing the chance of ‘us’ yet again, concerned that those harsh words are why you don’t return his texts. Only then, he realizes you’ve napped through the afternoon and didn’t get a chance to check your phone. And even on those really arduous days where his clients tend to be a little more finicky than usual, you still manage to make him laugh and feel the burden lift from his shoulders. How are you able to do those things to him without much of an effort?

Yet, at the same time, you’re also the pounds of stress that replaces the burden. 

Especially at times like these.

There’s a lot of things about you that he likes, but one of the things he doesn’t like is how quick you're on your feet when he turns you down. It barely takes minutes or even seconds after he says ‘you’re not my type’ before you down a couple shots and head to the dance floor with your ass against some other guy’s crotch.

“Oh,” Vernon’s friend, Mingyu, sings in amusement. “She’s dancing with Minghao.”

Vernon furrows his brows. Who the fuck is Minghao? Not all the words that pour in his thoughts spill from his tongue. “Minghao?” 

Mingyu nods, mid sip of his cognac. Cognac isn’t much different from whiskey, as much as people think—the only thing disparate between the two is that cognac derives from grapes and whiskey comes from grains. Vernon just prefers his whiskey over cognac; he can’t actually tell them apart, but he just… favors the one more than the other.

“Yeah, Xu Minghao. Heard he fucks… like well.”

Vernon scoffs. “… He fucks. Like well?”

Mingyu nods, lips pulling into a straight line as he swirls the drink in his hand. The condensation falls, dripping onto the fabric of his jeans but he could care less, especially when his own girlfriend is on the dance floor beside you, who wasn’t Vernon’s own. “Yeah, my girl heard from a couple of her friends that he’s good with his hips.”

With a quirked brow, Vernon licks his teeth. “You sure that it’s not your girlfriend’s experience we’re talking about here?”

Mingyu narrows his gaze. “Don’t play. Just ‘cause the one you’ve been eyeing suddenly captured Minghao’s attention doesn’t mean that you can jab me like that. Least I can commit.”

Puffing up his cheeks, he doesn’t even bother turning to look at Mingyu when he throws his sharp response. Nothing can avert his attention away from you, especially when you’re fixated on Minghao, your hand atop his as his own rests against your hips with your back pressed against his chest. Is this what you’re into? Some guy with blue hair, similar to the label on a Dasani water bottle or marginal Sonic the Hedgehog? 

“I don’t have commitment issues,” he counters through his gritted teeth. When did he clench his jaw so tightly, and why does he feel his fist balling up? You’re not his, after all, and yet he’s acting like you are. 

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

Vernon doesn’t even think. It’s out of character for him—what he often does is plan out his moves before making them. When it came to work or even what he wanted to meal prep for the rest of this week, Vernon always thought things through. Vacation? He’s already got an agenda. Dinner with friends? He’s got reservations at four different restaurants. Just pick one.

But you? You drive him absolutely insane. He can’t predict anything with you, and he doesn’t have a plan on what to do with you. 

Before you know it, he’s on the dance floor—an unfamiliar place for him because Vernon isn’t the type to bust a move even when he’s intoxicated but tonight, he’s a bit offbeat. Maybe he had too much of the whiskey, or maybe he caught some secondhand smoke from the guy taking a puff of a joint but nonetheless, he’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist and tugging you into him.

“What—”

“I don’t like you rubbing up against him.”

Mouth slightly agape, you step back from him. “Okay, and? You're not my boyfriend.”

He sucks in his cheeks irritably. He knew rejecting you would eventually bite him in the ass. “I just don’t like it.”

“You don’t get to tell me what you like and don’t like,” you retort, rolling your eyes before pushing your hair back. “Now if you would excuse me, I’m going back to Minghao.” But before you could get away, Vernon pulls you back. The impact of your cheek against his chest is a harsh one—but not… a bad one.

It… kind of turns you on? 

But you’re not gonna let him know that.

He exhales out a deep breath. “Okay, then fine. Be my girlfriend.”

You choke on your spit. 

“Wh-What?”

ok the end lets hope i finish this one and that it's a banger

[shiroi---kumo]

the internal debate on whether or not to put my perception of your OCs into one ask or multiple ended in me getting distracted and checking my emails.

eventually (30 seconds ago) i decided that they would be a little of both (broken into categories) so buckle up friendo.

also buckle up for the fact i will be holding no punches in my very totally professional analysis

because somehow this ended in me checking my emails (which is productive), i will start with aamun's associated group (the soul binds, who i propose should henceforth be known as ✨ the sparkle squad ✨)

valo:

oh man oh boy i perceive him alright. he's keeping so much to himself for the betterment of others. he's always "i'm just tired today" but it's more than just tired. beyond that, he's such a kind person. he's a warm person. he seeks to understand but not really to be understood - i have to wonder what made him think in the patterns he does. i have to wonder what or who made him think he can't open up. he has such good control on himself and it's him that i'd be afraid to truly fuck with for that same reason.

palo:

it is impossible not to perceive her. she is loud, boisterous, funny - but what else is there? she became a doctor, an inventor, she wants to help others and save lives, she's sworn a life oath... all these things are serious, but often she's not taken too seriously. i think she should be. i think she'd be someone's worst nightmare if anyone laid a single finger on her liege or any of the others. she's a force to be reckoned with. scary.

sydän:

she's vibing. but she's also stuck in the same loop as her brother and there's no avoiding it - they are constantly compared or treated as one entity in some regard or another. in a way, it makes her a perfect teacher for someone like pilvi, whose expectations aren't something he can separate from himself. and in the same way, it also makes her a great advocate for usva. she's someone who understands a bit where people are coming from without much effort and she's someone who can and will argue effectively against all the bullshit. i feel that she's calculated because, in a sense, she has to be able to tear others' faulty logic apart in order to be anything at all outside of hollow labels and others' assumptions.

aamun:

lonely by twelve, barely held together by people kind enough to take him in. the world is harsh for many military kids, and aamunkoitto is absolutely no exception. there was likely no room and no time for him to be soft in the sense some others are, but he's so loving in his own ways. there is absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for those he cares about, and if anyone is able to see what somebody needs, it's definitely him. there's a lot more there than he would ever let on, and i feel like he shoulders much more blame than he's actually owed. people tend to see a tall, grumpy man who's very no-nonsense, but those same people would run to him in a heartbeat for comfort and safety. like the dawn he's named after, he is reliable and subtly comforting.

revon:

if anyone flipped to the word 'effort' in the dictionary, there would probably be a picture of revon. he is the definition of "just doing his best", and yet he feels somehow it just isn't good enough. he pushes himself to the sideline, watches over these people who love him so much, and never realizes just how fiercely he is loved in return. he would do anything to protect them and measures his self-worth in this sole trait, though the people he's so focused on worrying about think of him as so much more than that. this man deserves the world and he thinks, truly, his whole world are the handful of people he keeps close. how beautiful and tragic a character he is.

How do you perceive my OC || Accepting

AKA Theo attacked me with positivity again

✨ The Sparkle Squad ✨ you kill me. Theo you slay me and just this overwhelming love for them pouring out from you just makes me so much more excited about them and to write them. It makes me excited to write in general. I love you so much. You see them. You see them so clearly and who they are and just Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Theo you're wonderful, thank you for loving my babies. Thank you for believing in me and my creations.

Thank you.

You see them. You see them all so clearly and I'm so glad they're coming off the way I intended. Ahhhhh yes good.

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x OC)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about Maggie’s past. Maggie and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Maggie playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love. 

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again. 

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Brooksy!” 

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Maggie, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Maggie. “So, are we going out or what?”

Maggie groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Maggie chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Maggie stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Maggie was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor. 

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so. 

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Maggie’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Maggie’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t. 

Thankfully, Maggie and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool. 

“Maggie is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Maggie insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. 

“The field trip!” Maggie turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously. 

“So many things,” Sam baited. 

Maggie covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening. 

“Okay, so many things happened,” Maggie started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Maggie composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured. 

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Maggie agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in. 

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Maggie turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.” 

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Maggie clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Maggie dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles. 

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Maggie lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space. 

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Maggie lamented to him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Maggie complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” 

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh. 

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first. 

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Maggie might have been with before him. 

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.” 

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Maggie had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored. 

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.” 

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

 “Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Maggie slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee. 

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Maggie with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Maggie with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment. 

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs. 

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy. 

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door. 

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips. 

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close. 

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom. 

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again. 

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen. 

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Maggie waited slightly behind him. 

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip. 

“I knew it!” Michael cried. 

He wrapped himself around Maggie’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Maggie forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Brooks.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Brooks’ boyfriend.”

Maggie’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?” 

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh. 

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought. 

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Maggie into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Maggie. 

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe. 

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Hen!” Michael called. 

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him. 

Maggie tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.” 

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand. 

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.” 

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.” 

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins. 

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Maggie said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Maggie held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.” 

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Maggie told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Maggie handed him the menu. 

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Maggie had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Maggie settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck. 

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up. 

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?” 

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.” 

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.” 

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised. 

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her. 

“Even my feet?” 

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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Series tags (x OC): @kyomito​

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 4

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 6.6k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

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

Seohyun was waiting for Jiwoo for quite a while now, sitting on the desk in her room, doodling in her notebook. She sighed as she shut it, a bit frustrated. It was not like Jiwoo to leave her hanging.

Seohyun considered going out; it was highly likely that Jiwoo was at their usual spot- the park near the school, her home, or the accident site. It was about 10 pm. Wasn't that late, was it? She got up, but stopped.

Maybe Jiwoo needed space.

It was probably this, but Seohyun couldn't help fearing that she had just moved on. If she'd gotten her memories back, that could mean that she was a whole different person now. She might not be the Jiwoo she knew anymore.

Seohyun fell on her bed, staring at the wall, and suddenly felt goosebumps.

"Took you long enough," Seohyun said, not bothering to look at Jiwoo, who had just entered the room.

"Don't tell me you were waiting for me," Jiwoo smirked.

"Oh, why would I?" Seohyun smirked back, and made space for Jiwoo, who sat on the bed with her. "So?"

"So, my dear friend," Jiwoo began, clearly excited to tell her her life story.

And she did. She was Ahn Jiwoo, daughter to two loving parents and a sister to a 16 year old brother. She'd had a pretty normal life; her father was a finance manager and her mother a housewife, and she had a lot of friends during her school years too. The rumours about her father being some sort of criminal were wrong; she had to face those rumours in her life too. They had her confused with another Jiwoo in her class.

"So we were a group of four friends; 2 boys and 2 girls. I was kind of a rebel in my last few months of life, because I just found life boring. I wanted an adventure. Something new. I wanted to travel too. So I was suggesting to my friends that we should do something. They were all busy in their own ways, and I didn't understand. I kept bugging them. So when we were in that restaurant, we had an argument. I knew it was my fault. I stormed off, and I was just about to go back when I got hit by a car."

"Oh... so then you went to the hospital, and they found out you lost your memories?"

"Right," she said, "But I was already in a critical condition. Brain damage led me to death."

"Ah..." Seohyun stared at her. Jiwoo's eyes were sad as she told her this, but she looked content. "So the reason you stayed..."

"The reason I stayed was not one, but two. I wanted to make sure my friends didn't blame themselves and my parents had moved on. And I spent the whole day making sure that was the case."

"And the other reason?"

"I want an adventure," she said and smiled brightly.

"Ugh, you ghosts! You stay for the most stupid reasons!" Seohyun mocked and dramatically threw her head in her hands, which made Jiwoo hit her with a pillow until she was laughing.

"That's my last wish, Seohyun. You think you could do that for me? Go on an adventure with me?"

"Haven't you had enough of adventure though? I mean, living with me is an adventure in itself-"

"I already talked to San," Jiwoo said, catching her attention. "He actually thought it was a nice idea. So we're going on an adventure this week. He said he'll make it a surprise for me."

"Hey, hey, that's not fair? You didn't even ask me!"

"I didn't have to," Jiwoo flipped her red hair.

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

"I don't know why I ever agreed to this," Seohyun sighed, handing her bag to Wooyoung who put it with the other few bags.

"Stop being a boomer and get in," Wooyoung said, and Seohyun did, muttering how she should have never suggested this.

"Should've thought before you planned all of it," Jongho snickered and Seohyun shot a glare.

"Everybody's in?" Hongjoong asked and they looked at each other, shouting a yes. Hongjoong gave a thumbs up and took the front seat of the van after shutting the door.

Everyone, including Jiwoo, who couldn't stop smiling, were seated. Seohyun had asked her mom to lend her a van that could fit 10 people, and though her mom had raised her brows in question, she had agreed when Seohyun said it was a trip with friends. She had just been surprised she had friends that were not ghosts, so without further questions (quite conveniently) she agreed, on the condition that the driver would be someone from the company.

She did raise a question when she found out that she was the only girl in the whole group, and there were only 9 people. Seohyun finally told her she was doing a favour for a ghost who had saved her life, and her mother made her promise she'd tell her the story someday.

They were going to Muchangpo Beach. They decided they'd see the sunset there. It was close to Seoul and the only place they could afford to travel and have an 'adventure'. They'd have a fun time, the boys promised, saying everything was fun when they were together.

Jiwoo was sitting between San and Wooyoung, and the three of them were chatting. Seohyun smiled when she saw that San was her voice; he'd say whatever she had to say.

She herself was in the middle row with Seonghwa and Yeosang by her sides. The two of them were also half bent backwards, listening to whatever the three of them were talking about. Seohyun had plugged her earphones in but she wasn't playing any music yet. She just listened to them talk.

"Tell us something about Seohyun," Wooyoung asked, giggling. Seohyun smiled inwardly.

"Well, Seohyun," Jiwoo thought, "she's quite rude, isn't she?"

"She's quite rude, isn't she?" San did his job, and the five of them laughed.

"She's not that rude,~" Seonghwa casted a glance at her, sighing in relief when he thought she couldn't hear him. Seohyun bit her cheek from the inside to stop smiling.

"She's scared of crows, of all thing," Jiwoo revealed, and the boys laughed a little. "She'll never show it, but when more than three crows are around, she runs for her life."

"Ah, I haven't ever noticed," Yeosang said, rubbing his chin, "she can hide it really well."

"Tell us some ghost story," Wooyoung asked. He was clearly enjoying this.

"I have a good one!" Jiwoo exclaimed and everyone seemed to scoot closer. "There was once a boy about her age who had the most stupid reason to not move on."

San almost stopped as he narrowed his eyes at Jiwoo and she assured him it was not Joon Hyuk. So San told the boys, and asked them to guess.

"He wanted an adventure too?" Yeosang laughed.

Jiwoo pouted, but said it could fall in that category, but it was a different sort of adventure. She told them to let their imagination run wild.

As San told the boys, Seohyun decided this was her cue to interrupt. "We are NOT going to talk about that!"

Wooyoung screamed a little in surprise. "Weren't you listening to music?!"

Jiwoo was just laughing and Seohyun bared her teeth at her, making everyone laugh and wonder just what sort of adventure did the boy want. After a hundred pleads from the boys, Seohyun finally told them that it didn't actually happen; she just threatened the ghost in unimaginable ways, making him move on without his desire.

"I think I have an idea of what happened," Yeosang thought, amusement in his eyes, "But I am too afraid to voice it out."

"I think you got it then," Seohyun nodded in approval and Yeosang gaped at her.

"You got it tough, friend," he said, patting her shoulder to comfort her. San and Wooyoung were pouting very loudly, and Seonghwa just stared at Yeosang and Seohyun as understanding passed between them.

"You both are so weird," Seonghwa finally said.

"If I tell you, Seonghwa, you'll drown in shame. Better protect your ears and your pure mind," Seohyun grinned.

San and Wooyoung exchanged glances, frowning, but they shook their head. It couldn't be that bad. Could it?

Seohyun plugged her earphones again, deciding she'd take a nap and actually played music this time.

-----------

"We're here!"

Seonghwa shook her awake, and Seohyun slowly opened her eyes, her hand going in front of her eyes as she blocked the sunlight. She took off her earphones and the sound of waves hit her, making her smile. She adjusted her green dress that reached below her knees, and put her hat on.

She saw that Jiwoo was already out, running along the beach, and San was watching her with a smile on his face. He turned back, meeting eyes with Seohyun, who suddenly felt out of breath.

San was handsome- painfully handsome. And the plain white shirt he wore didn't help. His hair was flying due to the breeze and he ran a hand through them, cocking his head to the side as he watched her.

The sun making his skin glow didn't help either.

Seohyun cleared her throat and joined him, and they both watched Jiwoo, in her jeans and green T shirt that she had died in- her permanent outfit, running as freely as she could, her red hair flowing behind her, her laugh ringing in the air.

"I didn't know she'd be that happy to see the beach. Hasn't she been here before?" Seohyun asked.

"I think she has. She knew the way. And I'm almost suspicious she's doing this just to annoy you," San answered.

As if on cue, Jiwoo stopped, doing a weird dance, then started twerking-

"And that's our cue to look away," Seohyun grabbed San, now laughing, by his arm and went to join the others. "They didn't have to come. They can't see her."

"We figured out a way to enjoy with her even if we can't see her," San smirked.

And that was how, a few moments later, they all were assembled in a circle playing cards.

"Why do I think San and Seohyun are cheating on us with Jiwoo?" Yunho looked at them suspiciously.

"How do you think the cards are in the air?" Seohyun asked, and Yunho grinned. She had a point. To anyone who could not see Jiwoo, it would look like a bunch of cards were in the air.

"I WON!" Jiwoo smacked the final card and jumped in the air. Seohyun gaped at her.

"You cheated!" She shouted.

"I was sitting with you the whole time, don't give me that shit," Jiwoo smirked.

San told them that she had, indeed, won without cheating and everybody groaned. Mingi dragged the food basket and him and Jongho started spreading the food.

"Can she really not eat?" Jongho asked.

"I'm afraid not," Seohyun answered.

"Isn't it rude to eat in front of a ghost?" Jiwoo put her hands on her hip and Seohyun popped a cherry in her mouth, saying, "It is."

San scoffed. Jiwoo kicked Seohyun's leg lightly and said she was going to walk. The rest of them started to eat.

"I heard the sunset here is very pretty," Seonghwa said.

"I've been here before," Mingi took a bite of his sandwich, "It really is the prettiest."

After eating a little, Seohyun looked in the distance where Jiwoo was standing near the shore, the waves flowing near her. Jiwoo looked back and started walking towards them, then stopped halfway and gestured at them to come.

"She's calling us," San said, and they all got up, joining Jiwoo.

"I want to play in the water," Jiwoo said.

"What's stopping you?" Seohyun asked.

"With you all, you dumbass," Jiwoo laughed and took her hand, leading her to the shore.

"Hey, hey, easy there," Seohyun laughed and let out a little yelp as the waves hit her bare feet. "The water is so cold!"

Jiwoo bent down and sprayed the water on Seohyun, smirking.

"Oh no, you did not!" Seohyun bent down and sprayed back before she could run. And so started a battle of getting each other wet. They all forgot all their worries for a while, running around in the waves, laughing as loudly as they could, laughing even louder when one of them got Jiwoo. By the time it got darker, they were all quite wet.

Yunho and Yeosang ran back to get towels for everyone, throwing them one each, and wondering if Jiwoo should have a towel. Seohyun said there was no need, but Jiwoo snatched hers once she was done.

"The sunset's here, guys," Yeosang said.

They all stood silently, side by side, watching the sky change to brilliant shades of candy, the sun reflecting on the sea. It was breathtakingly beautiful. At some point, Jiwoo crossed her hand with Seohyun's, and she turned to look at her face. Her red hair shone brightly and her eyes were wet.

"I want it to be the last thing that I see before I go," Jiwoo almost whispered. Seohyun's heart sank in her knees. It was really happening.

Jiwoo looked at San and smiled widely, San smiled back and waved at her. Jiwoo asked him to tell everyone that she was thanking them for doing so much for her. They all assured her it was nothing, and said they were gonna miss her.

San looked at Seohyun, nodding and urged the others to come with him. Only Jiwoo and Seohyun remained now, facing the sunset.

"It's really happening," Jiwoo finally said. A cry of pain escaped Seohyun's mouth. She couldn't take it anymore. Jiwoo rubbed her hand comfortingly, making her face herself. "You've given me an adventure. The time I spent with you, that was enough. Today was for you, Seohyun."

"Are you serious?" Seohyun asked.

Jiwoo nodded. "I told everyone it was for me, but no. It was for you. A gift for helping me out so much. For being a friend. A little sister that I always wanted."

Seohyun smiled sadly, "I'm gonna miss you so, so much. I got used to you, I shouldn't have."

"I know," Jiwoo smiled, kissing her forehead and wrapping her in a hug. Seohyun closed her eyes and inhaled. "Don't cry on me right now, Seohyun."

Seohyun laughed a little. "I'm trying not to, you're making it harder by reminding me!" She opened her eyes and saw the boys, watching them from a distance.

"I hope you'll open your heart more, Seohyun. That's my last wish. You had a tough life, but you have so many people, dead and alive, who love you. I hope you remember that, always."

"Unnie..." A tear escaped Seohyun.

Jiwoo watched the sunset, Seohyun in her arms, and it was perfect.

She closed her eyes.

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

Seohyun felt it, felt her presence fade away. She was no longer hugging Jiwoo. She stood for a few seconds before finally collapsing on the sand and she shuddered as tears began to flow. She put her face in her hands and cried her heart out.

The boys approached her, sitting around her, rubbing her back, telling her that it was okay. She just cried and cried, and she knew she was letting go of Joon Hyuk along with Jiwoo too. The proper goodbye that she had so badly wanted, she finally got it.

San put her arms around her and brought her closer, caressing her hair. After a few minutes, she was out of tears. She let her hair cover her face as she rested her head on San's shoulder, trying to normalize her breath.

Jongho handed her a water bottle. She managed a smile and took a few sips, rubbing her eyes. The boys looked at each other. They weren't sure what they should do next.

"God damn me if I ever befriend a ghost again," Seohyun said and finally laughed, making everyone else laugh along.

"Are you okay?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes, I am, actually," she said, wiping her eyes again. "I'm done crying for a while now." Her eyes went to San, who understood and smiled.

"Alright, let's get some dinner."

-----------

The driver had dropped Seohyun home now, and was on the way to drop the rest of them. As Seohyun entered her home, it felt strange. She felt utterly alone now that she knew Jiwoo wasn't gonna be back ever.

She tried to recall the time, only a few months ago, when she hadn't met Jiwoo yet. What did she even do in her spare time? She could not remember.

Seohyun went in her room and changed into her PJs first. After she combed her hair and scrolled a bit, she got up to turn off the light and saw something lying on her desk.

It was a painting. Of Jiwoo and her, cheek to cheek, smiling, the black cat in their arms. Seohyun gasped a little and examined it. It was really well drawn. Who made it?

She turned the page and saw something written on the back of it:

Seohyun,

I remember now that I loved painting. Since we don't have any photos, I captured us in this painting. Now you have a photo!

Love always, Jiwoo unnie ^^

Seohyun laughed a little as she read how she had addressed herself. "I guess you really liked being called unnie," she thought out loud.

She set the painting on her bookshelf. After being content with its position, she turned off the light, and slept surprisingly peacefully throughout the night.

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

"I swear to god if you don't make fun of me when I do something stupid, I'm never gonna talk to you all again."

"Well, that's new," Yeosang commented, "You're begging for it now."

"Better that then you all being like this!" Seohyun let out a frustrated sigh.

The boys were being ridiculously sensitive with Seohyun, and she was feeling absolutely uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed it the first two days, but then she noticed in the little things; how they'd always offer her food before eating themselves, how they'd always accompany her, etc. She had enough of the special treatment.

"You're acting like someone died," Seohyun said.

"Back at it with the dead jokes are you?" San shook his head.

"Technically, Jiwoo was dead," Jongho remarked.

"So did she die twice then?" Mingi wondered.

"Oh please," Seohyun sighed again, "I just want you all to act like we used to. No more special treatment. Please, this makes it worse. I'm already at terms with Jiwoo going. It was bound to happen."

"Alright, alright," Seonghwa said and shushed her. "We didn't know what else we could do. Back to normal, okay?"

"Thank you," Seohyun truly meant it. "Also, I think I'm ready to share my drums." The boys hooted except one.

"Are you angry?" Mingi asked. Seohyun immediately turned to San, who was suddenly interested in Wooyoung's fingernails.

"Now I am," Seohyun muttered, and San smiled without meeting her eyes. The teacher came and interrupted their session, so they went back to studying.

After school was over, the boys decided to go to their warehouse, while Seohyun asked if anyone would help her bring the drums. San volunteered and they walked to her home, the black cat in San's hand.

As they walked, talking about how it looked like the cat missed Jiwoo, San stopped in his tracks. "I think you have a guest."

Seohyun looked ahead and saw a middle aged man dressed like a doctor. He was a ghost. Seohyun shared a look with San and went ahead.

"How can I help you?" Seohyun asked. The ghost got startled when he saw that San could see him too.

Jiwoo had once explained that to ghosts, Seohyun shined a little brighter than the rest of the humans, which was how they knew. Seohyun had just thought she was crazy but now she realized, now that she was with San, that it must be true.

Or maybe Jiwoo hadn't been joking that one time when she said there was a banner on top of her head and every ghost could see it, only Seohyun couldn't.

"I was told you'd help me," the doctor said. Seohyun nodded and he continued. "I made a mistake. I operated on a patient and it went wrong. It was my fault. The patient lost his vision. They were going to sue me, but when I tried to settle it, we had an argument. They gave up on suing me, saying I wasn't even worth the trouble.

"It was a few days later. I went into a slump and started drinking a lot. I was on the roof of the hospital and it wasn't my intention, but I slipped. That's how I died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Seohyun said, "How can I help you move on then?"

"I want to let the patient know that I truly am sorry, and I want to let my family, just my family know that it wasn't a suicide. I wouldn't leave them behind on purpose."

"But... isn't it easier for your family this way? Than knowing that you are now a ghost? That it wasn't an accident?"

"I think," San began, "that he's right. It's more easier for them if they know he didn't commit suicide. They'd feel really bad if they think he left them on purpose. No one wants that from the people they love."

The doctor smiled thankfully at San. "I'll take you to the patient first," he said and asked if he should teleport the two of them.

"Do you want to come? You don't have to," Seohyun said.

San stroked the cat's head. "I want to."

"I don't know if it's safe for San to teleport. So we'll take the mundane route. Lead the way, sir."

"It's quite a distance. I hope you have money for taxi," the doctor said.

On the way to the patient's house, they had a nice chat with the doctor. He told them about his life, back when he was famous for being a good surgeon. He had never made a mistake and he had always held pride in that. But with this particular patient, he took a risk he knew he shouldn't have.

He told them he had a 10 year old daughter and he wanted her to become a doctor too. He wanted her to know that it was good to save people, and she shouldn't be afraid to take risks but also be careful at the same time and know her limits.

Seohyun was actually touched by the whole thing. It was good to have ghosts like these once in a while; nice, well-mannered ghosts.

They reached the patient's house. It was in a posh area; the patient himself must be rich. The house looked more like a mansion from the outside. Upon ringing the doorbell, a woman appeared, who the doctor told them was his wife. She seemed to be past 50s.

"We're relatives of Dr. Lee, the one who operated on your husband. We're here to discuss things about the case."

The woman passed them a skeptical look, "The doctor passed away, didn't he? We gave up on the case altogether. What do you want now?"

"We just want to talk to Mr. Cho. It's important. Please."

The woman let them in, guided them to the chairs in the garden and said she'd bring her husband. San and her sat down, admiring the lush gardens. The doctor paced worriedly.

"It will be alright. I have a way with words," Seohyun assured the doctor.

The husband and wife arrived; San and Seohyun got up and greeted them respectfully. "I am Seohyun, Dr. Lee's distant relative. This is San, my cousin."

"Have a seat," he said and they all settled down, including the wife. Seohyun sighed and decided she'd get to the point.

"Dr. Lee made a mistake. You must know that," Seohyun said. The wife looked at her husband worriedly.

"So he says," Mr. Cho said, staring in the distance.

"He wants to apologize, sincerely. I'll get to the point. He's here right now. I can see ghosts, the dead who have not moved on. He had unfinished business here, because he wanted to sincerely apologize. He won't be able to move on until he hears your forgiveness."

"Is this a prank?" Mrs. Cho asked, but Mr. Cho shushed her.

"I hope you can prove he's here," Mr. Cho said.

"Dr. Lee told you about some ginseng plant right before you went under anesthesia. No one was there when he told you, right?"

"That's true," Mr. Cho smiled. His wife began to complain but he raised a hand. "That's interesting. My father had a friend. He could see ghosts too. Are you the Mediator?"

San and Seohyun looked at each other in surprise. "That's what they call me, yes."

Mr. Cho laughed a little. "I used to not believe my father and that friend of his for the longest time, until I saw something and couldn't believe my eyes. That's why I believe you too, girl. You're doing a good job."

"Thank you," Seohyun said.

"So Dr. Lee is here? I can speak directly to him?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright. Dr. Lee, it was your fault, I know. But I truly forgive you. There are things we cannot avoid. We call it fate or destiny. What's bound to happen, fortune or misfortune, happens and you cannot avoid it. That's what I believe. I want you to move on, without the burden of my accident holding you back. You didn't do it on purpose, and that is enough for me."

Tears escaped Mrs. Cho's eyes and she wiped them. Seohyun muttered to San, 'wise man', and they watched Dr. Lee's eyes shine with tears to as he said his apology and thanks. Seohyun conveyed the message.

They were offered tea, but Seohyun told them they had to get home. The man offered to help Seohyun out if she ever had trouble with this Mediator job. She accepted, saying she would pay a visit someday.

The three of them left the house, standing in the street and reflecting on what had happened.

"That went rather smoothly," Seohyun commented.

"I know!" San widened his eyes at her.

"Thank you, Seohyun. It really does feel like a burden off my shoulder."

"No problem, we should move now. What's the next job?"

"I don't think I can see them like this," the doctor said. "I love my daughter and my wife very much. Seeing them would want me to stay. Do you think I can write a letter to my wife? You can give it to her tomorrow."

"Will your wife believe that it was really written by you?"

"We had a secret code between us; we created it. If I mention it in the letter, she'll have to believe it. And she'll recognize my handwriting too."

San and Seohyun decided that was convenient, and Seohyun handed the doctor a pen and paper. He wrote a short one, muttering something about how the less he wrote the better it would be. Then he folded it and handed it to Seohyun.

"I trust you. You'll give the letter tomorrow, right? I wrote the address on the other page."

"I will deliver it personally."

"Thank you," the doctor smiled. "Do you think I'll be able to watch over my daughter?"

"Maybe you will," Seohyun said.

"Guardian angel," San added, making the doctor smile as he disappeared. He had moved on.

"Well," Seohyun said, "That was quick. I love it when ghosts are wise enough to actually know how to handle their mess."

San scoffed. "Let's go."

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

Grabbing some coffee from a café they passed by, they took a taxi to Seohyun's home. Seohyun insisted that they should eat before they packed the drums and go to the warehouse. San helped her set the table. She had made pasta last night, which she reheated, and had some chocolates for dessert.

"Does your mom ever come home?" San asked as he nibbled on the chocolate.

Seohyun yawned. San reflected. They both were tired and sleepy now. "She has an apartment near her office so she only comes once a week here."

San yawned again and Seohyun laughed. "Should I let you nap?"

San smiled lazily. "Let's just pack the drums while you're still angry. I don't want you to change your mind."

Seohyun threw the wrapper at him and he caught it before it hit his face, throwing it right back. She dodged it. "Come on, let's dismantle it."

It took them ten minutes to dismantle and pack the drums. But it was already night time, and the boys had locked the warehouse and gone home when San asked them.

"Well, I'll call them here tomorrow. They should take it if they want it so much."

"Good idea." San said, yawning again.

"I think if I let you go home now, you're gonna fall asleep in the middle of the road. Take a power nap, San."

"Oh no, I shouldn't. I'll just go," he said and walked past her, only to be grabbed by the arms and led to a room despite him insisting he was not THAT sleepy.

San entered the room and immediately knew it was Seohyun's. The potted plants, the books, the mess. And the painting.

"So that's the painting, eh," he said, walking towards it and looking at the detail, absolutely wowed by it.

"How do you know? I don't think I mentioned," Seohyun narrowed her eyes.

"Jiwoo told me she left a gift for you," he smiled. Seohyun went to stand with him, looking at the painting with him.

"She's really good," she said.

San looked down at her. She felt so small; he was about a head taller than her. He turned towards her, his hand going to play with her hair. "You're really okay, right?"

"I am, San," Seohyun assured him. "I do feel lonely when I'm home, but you guys make up for it everyday."

San nodded. He was still playing with her hair. Seohyun suddenly flushed; they were standing quite close to each other. San noticed her looking at him, her light brown eyes shining.

He seemed to be searching her eyes for something. And Seohyun wasn't sure what it was, but she felt her heart pumping louder every second. She was, oh god, she was so attracted to him. He made her feel so many things just by looking at her.

"What are you looking at?" Seohyun asked- almost whispered.

"You," San said, bringing his hand to cup her face, surprised when she leaned in to his touch and closed her eyes. It made him melt. He brought her in for a hug and she gladly wrapped her arms around his waist, his small waist. She could hear his heart beat just as loudly. San rested his face on her head, rocking them back and forth. He didn't want to let go, he wanted to stay like this as long as he could.

Seohyun sighed. All she could think about was how he felt. Her mind was truly blank.

San finally broke apart a little, Seohyun's arms still around his waist. He was staring at her, his hands cupping her face, putting stray hair behind her ears. Seohyun wanted to do the same to him, but at the same time she didn't want to let go of him.

"Seohyun, Seohyun," he whispered, loving the sound of her name on his lips. She bit her lip. It seemed like they just stared at each other for the longest time, afraid to say anything, until Seohyun smiled at the situation.

San kissed her forehead first, a light peck. When she didn't move away, he tilted her face a bit upwards to kiss her cheekbone, then her cheek, leaving butterfly kisses, making her tremble all over. She clenched his shirt tighter, out of breath already. Their noses brushed and she loved the feeling of it, his breath warm on her. And when their lips brushed, San finally kissed her properly.

And Seohyun's mind went blank.

San's hand went behind her neck and Seohyun finally left his waist, only to cup his face herself as she guided him along. They tasted chocolate on each other. Seohyun was deepening the kiss, she just couldn't get enough. San mirrored her movements, following along, making her bend backwards until her back hit the desk and her hand went to rest on it for support.

San broke apart to catch his breath. His eyes were glazed, and so were Seohyun's. He put his hand on Seohyun's, the one that was on the desk, and with a sultry look and half a smile, he kissed her again, so passionately that it made Seohyun curve back and back until San was half on top of her.

When they broke apart, finally short of breath, Seohyun smirked. "I thought you were sleepy."

"I still am," he said, resting her forehead against her and smiling, eyes shut.

Seohyun lead him to her bed, making him sit. She bit her lip and smirked as she positioned herself on San's lap. San held her by her waist and let her kiss him; on his cheeks, like he had done, a peck on his nose which made him laugh, and finally a kiss to the lips.

"God, the way you make me feel, Choi San!" She sighed dramatically.

"And how do I make you feel?" He questioned. Seohyun shook her head. "I'll tell you later. Now we sleep."

San set his alarm for a power nap and with Seohyun in her arms, they both slept peacefully. When the alarm did go off, Seohyun didn't budge. With a kiss on her forehead, he left the house.

----------

"There's something wrong with Seohyun," Yeosang announced and everyone turned to look at him.

"There's more?" Wooyoung asked sarcastically and Seohyun glared at him, turning to look at Yeosang, asking him what he meant by that.

"I don't know," Yeosang threw his hands in the air, clearly frustrated, "She keeps smiling to herself. It's creepy."

Seohyun and San shared a look and San, despite his struggle not to, burst out laughing. Seohyun pursed her lips, trying not to smile but failed.

"See?" Yeosang pointed at her, "Has she ever smiled like this?"

Wooyoung was looking at San and Seohyun. "You both.... Is there a secret I don't know about!?"

"I don't have secrets anymore..." Seohyun lied shamelessly, shrugging. San put his hands in the air and said, "I only laughed because of what Yeosang said."

"No, you're looking at each other with the most disgusting look in your eyes," Yeosang observed, "Don't tell me you two..."

"Ah, no, that cannot have happened!" Hongjoong waved him off as Seonghwa gasped.

"How could you even suggest such a thing?" Seonghwa shook his head, clearly disappointed in Yeosang.

"No, I didn't even say anything yet..." Yeosang looked at Seohyun to apologize but she smirked at him, making his eyes go wide.

"I am RIGHT! Something happened between these two, she smirked at me!"

Seohyun immediately put her poker face and looked at Mingi and Jongho, who were right in front of her, with the most innocent look in her eyes. "Did you see me smirk?"

Mingi and Jongho shook their heads. Yeosang shot Seohyun a glare. "I know I'm right. If this turns out to be true..."

"Stop being so dramatic," San said, shushing Yeosang, and got up to drink water.

They were all in the warehouse, having just left school, and were currently relaxing and drinking juice, chatting with each other. Yeosang had noticed Seohyun smiling more than usual, which made him think something happened. It didn't help that San and Seohyun couldn't stop exchanging glances.

Seohyun had brought the drum set with Yunho before coming to the warehouse. Seohyun motioned to Mingi and they got up, leaving the rest behind.

"Have you ever played drums before? Like, actual drums?"

"Yeah," Mingi answered, "A friend of mine had them."

"Alright, you should learn how to arrange them."

So Seohyun taught Mingi all about the components of a drum set, their various uses and how to dismantle them and put them back. Mingi listened carefully, and Seohyun smiled inwardly at how happy he looked. It made her feel guilty that she delayed it so much.

When they were done, they stood back to have a look.

"A much needed upgrade," Mingi smiled, ruffling Seohyun's hair, "Thanks."

"This drum set is my baby, okay? Use it well."

"Yes ma'am," Mingi saluted and Seohyun pointed at the drums. "Have a go."

Mingi sat on the stool, testing the weight of the drum sticks in his hand. He tested the sounds then, and played a little, freestyling, laughing as he did. The others had come to watch him, cheering and hyping him up.

"Not bad," Seohyun said when he finished, "Just go with your heart. Don't think."

"Your turn," Mingi handed her the drum sticks and she almost panicked.

"I think I'm good," she hesitated but someone pushed her forward. It was Yunho.

"I didn't go through all that trouble of coming to your house and carrying the drums to not see you play," he shook his head.

"Alright. Just a second," Seohyun said, tying her hair in a ponytail. "There you go."

Everyone hooted, clearly excited. This was the first time she was going to actually play in front of them, save for the time she had played the violin for San. San smiled at her as if he was thinking the same thing. Seohyun inhaled, testing the drums, and began.

She realized she really did enjoy playing the drums; there was just something about drums where you could express freely, and loudly, as if you wanted everyone to hear it. And it made her smile like crazy, put her brain on pause for a while and play with her heart.

She played like crazy, and when she was done, everyone was in awe.

"You're actually very good!" Hongjoong said, finally clapping. Seohyun bowed her head and got up. "I didn't expect this."

"It's like she was a different person," Jongho was looking at her with wonder.

"Teacher! you're my teacher from today," Mingi declared, and Seohyun scoffed at him.

"You don't need a teacher, teach yourself. I know you can."

"Nooo~" he wailed, "I would love you as a teacher!"

Seohyun just waved him off, going to San and smiling embarrassingly at him. He pinched her cheeks and she pouted, the two of them forgetting for a moment that everyone was still watching her.

"You two... there is something different!" Jongho laughed in disbelief. San and Seohyun started laughing. Yeosang just shook hands with Jongho, thanking him for finally noticing.

"They're not even bothering to deny it, guys," Yunho grinned.

"San is mine!" Wooyoung shouted dramatically, coming to hug San, sticking his tongue out at Seohyun. Seohyun glared at him, baring her teeth at him, and snatched San from him. Wooyoung gasped, and suddenly the two of them were in a battle, both pulling at San by his arms, who was laughing painfully, shouting for help.

"He's not even choosing!" Seohyun laughed, and winked at Wooyoung as she said, "Let's ditch him."

Wooyoung pushed San away, rather forcefully, who fell in Yeosang's arms. He put his arm in Seohyun and she flipped her hair as they walked away from him.

"No one loves me," San buried his nose in Yeosang's neck, pouting. Yeosang sighed, patting his head.

"You're right," Yeosang said, "Absolutely right."

"Hey..." San moaned like a little kid.

prev - next

[roselightfairy]

If you're still doing fic recs, do you have any favorite AUs?

Oh, do I!! This is an EXCELLENT prompt, and I’ve had a lot of fun compiling this list tonight. I’ve ended up grouping it into two different sections: modern AU (because there are a lot of those!) and “other,” which are…non-modern AU, haha. For the most part I’ve left out UA (universe alteration, in which the universe is the same but something about the story changes), because I can’t think of any of those right now – but I know there are some really good ones of that as well!

So:

Modern:

like, comment, subscribe by DeHeerKonijn

Summary: A collection of fics that take place in my modern ‘verse, wherein Minas Tirith is a bustling city, Gimli is a professor at the university, and Legolas is a model-slash-influencer-slash-layabout.

…

Come on, you all knew this was going to be first on the list. The amount of worldbuilding @deheerkonijn has put into this series is absolutely breathtaking, and what you see on Tumblr is probably only the half of it. (Go stalk her Twitter, even if you don’t have a profile – I do it all the time!) This series is all she’s written for it so far, plus the fic that we cowrote about the OC roommates. But aside from that, the series has a whole assortment of always sexy, always funny, always sweet stories about Legolas and Gimli; go read them all!

No Place Like HoME by Flamebyrd

Summary: In which our heroes play a MMORPG called Heroes of Middle-Earth.

…

THIS IS SO GOOD. I love this premise so much, haha – Legolas and Gimli are just regular humans (with regular names, even!) and a rivalry they don’t even know about – but it turns out they’ve been playing each other in a game for quite awhile! It’s cute, fun, and creative, and I wish there were more.

life’s just a game (and it’s just your turn) by plinys

Summary: Legolas and Gimli try to have phone sex (or well, headset sex) with some unforeseen consequences.

…

I ADORE that these two as gamers is a fic idea that exists more than once, and this one is so fluffy with just a hint of spice (and a hefty dose of embarrassment, haha, but they deserved it!). Read it and grin!

Hold My Number by katajainen

Summary: It's a Saturday night at the A&E, and Gimli only wants to get to the triage nurse and be done with this whole stupid business.

That is, until he meets a tall, dark stranger (a ridiculously pretty one).

…

I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH. The crowning glory of meet-cutes (though it’s more of a meet-ugly, really), in which Legolas and Gimli meet at the emergency room for very embarrassing reasons . . . and hit it off right away, in a way that is adorable, delightful, and funny to watch. Read for their embarrassing stories, their adorable dorkiness (they’re gamers again!), and their undeniable chemistry.

Perfect Fit by mssileas

Summary: "Both of them were painfully aware that their physical differences were shockingly obvious – much more so than their also very different personalities. And that they usually led people to assumptions they weren't shy of declaring."

Or, Legolas single-handedly disproves all prejudice, and Gimli loves it.

…

This is a lovely (and smutty, so be warned) modern AU oneshot that challenges the stereotypes of these two based on how they look – and how they would probably be treated, if they were a couple in our world. If you’re interested in the modern AU premise but not the smut, there’s another oneshot set in this ‘verse, Christmas Body, that is mostly just fluff!

Other (non-modern):

The Earth Moves Under Our Feet (It’s A Loco Motion) by notanightlight

Summary: The West is still Wild. Gimli is working on the railway, Legolas is a gunslinger, and someone needs to turn this train around.

…

WILD WEST AU WILD WEST AU!! This story is one of my favorite things ever because it’s a WILD WEST AU and Gimli is an Irish immigrant and Legolas is an outlaw and they meet in a near-death situation and bond! It has wonderful worldbuilding, excellent banter, and little moments of flirting that almost hide below the surface of the aforementioned near-death situation, but not quite. ;) Please go read it, or listen to the amazing accompanying podfic by Morvidra, which is an astounding performance.

Nothing Doth Fade (But Suffers a Sea-Change) by notanightlight

Summary: Gimli has always heard stories about the seals that lived near the cliffs of Castle Durin. “They aren’t what they seem,” they’d tell him. Gimli never knew what to think of those stories, until the night he met a stranger on the shore, with the sea in his eyes and moonlight on his skin.

…

@notanightlight has too many amazing AUs to list them all here, but I have to give a shout-out to this one because SELKIES but also ANGST and SORROW and BETRAYAL but FORGIVENESS and HOPE and – I don’t know. It plays with a common and really sad trope, but gives our characters a way through that is hard and painful, but worth it, in the end – a story in which everything is not all okay, but in which that doesn’t have to be the end, if everyone is willing to work. Plus, Thranduil makes an appearance and he is magnificent.

Wild Hunt by consumptive_sphinx

Summary: There’s a knock on the door.

It isn’t quite dusk; it isn’t too dangerous yet. But still, it’s late to be out on Midwinter’s Night. What if he was held up somewhere?

Legolas takes a nail with him when he opens the door. “Gimli. It’s late.”

…

Fae AU!! consumptive_sphinx has many wonderful AUs and you should check out their whole profile, but I had to give this one a shout-out. It’s mysterious and tender and packs a whole lot of story between the lines of its 917 words and made me yearn for more!

The Monstrous Fellowship by IchijouKenichiro

Summary: Astrin's cousins Fíli and Kíli left to fight the forces of Mordor over two years ago, but there's been no word from them for the last six months. Being a woman of action and the one who always is there to get them out of trouble, Astrin disguises herself as the male warrior Gimli and joins the army to fight for them. But the regiment she joins is anything but typical. With troublesome hobbits, a religious fanatic, the undead, a golem, and even an elf, are the greatest dangers to come from her fellow man? And what secrets are they all holding onto?

A parody of Terry Prachett's "A Monstrous Regiment"

…

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. This is ACTUALLY a Monstrous Regiment rewrite of LOTR, with the Fellowship in the place of the Regiment, and the characters are – actually matched up really, really well. Full disclosure: I read this before I read Monstrous Regiment and went in fully prepared to ship Polly and Maladict… but it turns out they were extremely shippable anyway, so that turned out all right. ;) Seriously – this is an excellent fic, such a fun story, and such a good homage!

Aulë’s Gift by daisynorbury

Summary: "Our friendship endures these strange periods of inequality. You can't remember, and I can't forget."

A new chapter in Adina's classic Back to the Beginning cycle, wherein Aulë granted Gimli perpetual reincarnation. Two thousand years into the Fourth Age, Legolas meets the ninth version of his dearest friend. Told mostly from Gimli's amnesiac POV.

…

I don’t know if this story fully counts as an AU, but I’ve been longing to rec it for several lists and just – couldn’t ever quite find a category it fit into. AU is close enough, since even though the world is meant to be Middle-earth far in the future, it’s different enough to feel like another world. This is a reincarnation story of Legolas and Gimli set in the series referenced above (and recommended in a different list), and it deals with the extreme complication of the situation with so much sensitivity and grace that it rivets me. Even if I didn’t know @daisyfornost, it would be so obvious to me that an absolutely unbelievable amount of thought and care went into the worldbuilding, the writing, the creation of this story. It is such a labor of love, and that love is evident throughout the whole thing. Please go read it, but I warn you that you will have lots of feelings.

…

Thank you again for this amazing prompt, anon! Reminder to all that this is in no way a comprehensive list – I’m sure I’ve left out so many other wonderful stories. Please feel free to add your own, if you reblog this! And my usual reminder to please leave the author a comment if you read any of these and enjoy it. <3

[lstories]

Emma and Gaudi(um)

(Safe, Soft, Unwilling, Vore, accidental fearplay.)

Original idea by @mangotangovoredango. I just put my own spin on it and used my own oc's

"Owww." Emma woke up, her back was killing her. "Every God damn night." She muttered to herself still half asleep, she tried to grab one of the blankets to cover herself and fall back asleep as the morning sun crept in. She flailed her arms to no avail, looking down to the foot of her bed Emma realized she had kicked off all her blankets trying to get comfortable in her sleep... again. Every night was the same, waking up in weird positions and her muscles aching from working and resting. She didn't have to work, she didn't have to do anything. She was the CEO of a nationwide electronics/shopping chain and didn't have to work in store but, she wanted to help more than shoot ads and work as a telephone line between the board of directors. She still had to work as the CEO while also working in store and it was starting to catch up to her.

She didn't want to fall into the category of not having to work a day in her life so she worked retail in her own company. After laying in bed for almost an hour, waiting for the alarm to get her out of bed she was not expecting a knock at the door to be the thing to fully wake her up. "Why is anyone out here, and why right before work." She thought starting to sit up. Putting her slippers on. Emma lazily walked over to the front doors. She wasn't expecting anyone and she lived a few miles out of town so nobody should be here. "Hey! I told you this was her house." Emma could recognize the voice immediately without needing to see their face. A few of her work friends stopped by with a car parked out front. That would be great if she didn't have to take a shift in an hour. "Hi, work starts in an hour, what are you doing here?" Emma said trying to sound as awake as she could. "You signed up for the carpool, remember? It was a four person pool and you signed up as the third person in ours. Also why aren't you ready for work yet." Hope said, a bit confused and concerned.

Emma started to remember, she just thought it was another paper for her to sign and now the pictures started to make more since. She didn't want to let her friends down so maybe a week would be ok before she stopped to not hurt their feelings. "I... guess it just slipped my mind, I'll get dressed really quick." Emma said closing the door and walking back to her room. "MAKE IT QUICK, WE GOTTA BE THERE SOON!" Paige yelled threw the closed door. Emma started to get dressed as quickly as she could. Stoping only to grab a small tied bundle of physical cash she put into a side pocket in her purse. She was still so tired, she couldn't keep going to work with how she's been sleeping, mostly less than an hour or two a night. She also refused to drink coffee, it was too bitter and it only made her feel even worse after a while. She walked out the door, just barely remembering to lock it as Paige basically dragged her to the car. "WE GOTA GO NOW!" She yelled as Hope started to drive off before Emma could put her seatbelt on.

"What is your rush, we have over an hour and a half before work starts." Emma said finally getting her seatbelt on. "No, it starts in half an hour and we're 10 miles away AND we have to pick someone else up!" Paige said as she frantically looked threw map and clock apps. Emma couldn't help but peek over the seat and look at her phone, and then she realized something. "You remembered daylight savings, right?" Emma said tiredly, showing her phone to Paige. She looked at the time on her phone, then the time on Emma's phone, back and forth until editing her time. "My time was off." She quietly said. Hope started to laugh her ass off. "Looks like we'll be able to stop and get coffee too." Hope said as her laughter started to die down. "Oh... cool." Emma said, a little annoyed that she couldn't go back to sleep for this. She tried to drift off, her head resting into the soft cushion. She almost fell asleep until the car stopped and another person got in the car. The briefcase they were carrying hit Emma in the legs and she winced in pain. "What the, why's there a forth person. Who... Faith?" Emma exclaimed rubbing the side of her leg that was hit by the briefcase.

"Oh, sorry Emma. Were running late and looks bad when the manager shows up last." Emma slightly glanced at her, annoyed that she couldn't sleep. "Did you-" Emma tried to talk before she was interrupted by Paige. "Daylight savings was last week and we were late but Emma showed me that my clock was fast and now were heading to the coffee shop because were early, is your clock fast?" Paige said. She didn't seem to need to breath when she talked. "Oh, I guess it is. That's embarrassing. Where are we going for coffee?" Faith asked as she started to settle down. Emma couldn't believe it, this was the first day of the car pool she didn't remember signing up for. They were uncoordinated and didn't plan for time, and she wouldn't expect anything less from her friends. "Theres a coffee shop on the corner and the new guy there makes amazing drinks. Should we go there?" Hope said, turning the corner before anyone could answer. "Guess that's a yes." Emma said under her breath. They all talked and waited in line and Emma just tried not to fall over. "Hi, what can I get ya." Gaudi exclaimed. "Hey your the new barista that Hope has been talking about, didn't you just move here because the old coffee shop you worked for closed and you were transferred here because you were so good and did you know Amy she was a regular there." Paige said, a giddy smile on her face and no falter in her breath. "Like a walking plot machine." Emma said under her breath. Gaudi slightly laughed at it, but no one else heard it. No one was supposed to hear it, she knew she said it quietly enough so nobody could hear it, let alone someone on the other side of a glass pain while she was in the back of a crowd.

"Ya, I knew Amy. She always got a hot chocolate instead of something caffeinated." Gaudi said, his face going from concerned back to chipper in an instant. "Anyway, what can I get you all?" He said. Everyone ordered their cups and last was Emma to order. She had never ordered coffee before and she didn't want to start now. "I heard something about hot chocolate, could I just get that." Emma said, her eyes were too heavy to hold open for very long. "Its not my specialty but I can load it with sugar if that's going to help you threw the day." Gaudi said, slightly laughing. "If can get me threw the day I might come back tomorrow." Emma said, placing 100$ on the counter. "You can keep the change." She said walking back to her friends. Gaudi was shocked, he looked at it and back at her. He wanted to make her drink perfectly, would it be so selfish to use a bit of magic to help her and himself. She seemed nice and she was cute so why not have her around sometimes, and maybe she might give him another big tip someday. He started to work on all their drinks, once he got to Emma's drink he made it as normal before lightly scratching something into the side of the cup. Emma couldn't stop looking back at him, there was something about him that she couldn't shake. It wasn't bad but she didn't trust it.

"Here you go everyone, and we hope you come back soon." Gaudi said while handing everyone their cups. Emma took one sip and immediately her entire body seemed to wake up. It was super sweet and she took another sip. Once she finished she felt like she had slept an entire day. When Gaudi wasn't making anything or helping anyone Emma came up to talk to him.

"What did you put in my drink? I haven't felt this awake in months."

"Magic."

"You put magic in my drink?"

"Ya, a small awakening spell."

"Come on, what did you put in it. I need to put it in my own drinks at home."

"If you won't accept magic then it's my personal secret."

"So you want me to come here every day to get your drink."

"I'd be able to see you every day and that would be nice."

"You want to see me? Can't tell if that's flirty or stalkerish."

"Well you said you would come back if the drink woke you up."

Emma started to talk once again before getting cut off. "We gotta go now, work actually starts soon." Hope said walking out the door with the others. Emma walked away without saying anything, trying to catch up to her friends. "Guess I'll see you tomarow then." Gaudi said with his head on his hand and a big grin on his face. Emma spun around, her cheeks were slightly red. She was about to say something before turning around and following her friends out. They all got into the car, everyone was eerily quiet. Emma had one last glance at Gaudi threw the window, he was helping a customer and was able to slightly glance back at Emma for just a second before Hope drove away. "So... You like him, don't you?" Faith said looking over at Emma. "No. Quiet, I'll fire you if you dont be quiet." Emma said, her cheeks brightening. "You do, you think we didn't notice." "Of course you do, and I think he likes you." They kept talking about how cute it would be if they were together, Emma just buried her head in her hands until they got to work.

Timeskip: Next Day

"Ugh" Emma's back was killing her... again. This time she had to get up even earlier for the car pool. She got up, got dressed, and waited outside for her friends. Her mind started to wander, she thought about what would happen at work, what the board of directors would be arguing about and all that. Then she started to remember what happened yesterday, Gaudi, the drinks, her friends, and how they would probably bring her back there. Oh and speak of the devil's, her friends pulled up at that moment. She lazily got into the back seat and they drove off, Hope and Paige were talking about her. "You were more productive yesterday and you seemed happier." "Maybe its because of the new barista." They kept pestering her about it. Soon they picked up Faith and she joined in, joking about her and the new barista. Not even five minutes later and they were at the coffee shop. They all gave their orders, leaving Emma to talk to Gaudi at the other counter.

"So, your back."

"I said I would be."

"Well, what can I get you today."

"Another hot chocolate."

"Will do."

Gaudi got to work making her drink, once she sat down he put another scratch into the side of her cup, covering it with the sleeve. Emma took a sip, her body started to wake again. If it kept waking her back up she was going to come here every day without complaint, other than her friends annoying her. They all talked, Emma actually able to commit to the conversation now. Before they left Emma put 200$ in the tip jar, smiling at Gaudi on her way out.

Timeskip + Brief Summary: 4 months later

Emma continued to go nearly every day. She stopped going in the car pool after a while but still met up with her friends there. She gave a sizable tip to Gaudi almost every day, but his coworkers were starting to get annoyed. She experimented with the drink, staying up for almost two full weeks with no sleep and no repercussions. She kept wondering and pestering Gaudi what he put in her drink but she never got an answer more than "magic". They started to get to know each other more, eventually Gaudi got her number and they watched a movie at her house. He was amazed at how big her house was, he didn't believe it when he saw it. Eventually, Emma had to go on a business trip and couldn't take Gaudi with her.;

Gaudi was glad the day was over. His shift was getting long and he just wanted to get home, well, as much of a home as it was. Working at a coffee shop didn't pay much, Emma's tips did help but it wasn't enough to buy a house. He walked down his normal route to home, letting his mind wander on the day. He was sad that Emma had to leave today but she told him what it was for and it made enough sense. He only had to wait 2 more weeks before she would be back and they could watch another movie or something. He walked threw a back alleyway, and into the nearby forest. It didn't take more than 30 minutes to walk to the small clearing in the forest. He could feel his wings and tail getting restless, whenever he turned into a human all of his draconic features turned into a shadow of what they were. He could still feel his tail, wings, the horns on his back, etc. They weren't invisible, but they weren't not there. Either way they needed to move, every night he turned back to a dragon to sleep and he never needed to worry about someone seeing him because they believed that there was a monster in the forest. He was a little bit sad though, his friends were getting mad that he was getting huge tips from a single customer. They all split the tips so he didn't understand why they were mad. He didn't really think on it too long before falling asleep, surrounded by his collected "treasures".

Timeskip: next day (again)

Emma couldn't belive how boring this was. She thought this work trip would be a little more fun but it was just signing more papers and agreeing with the board of directors and signing off with the marketing department. She wanted to leave and go back home, even being with her family would be more entertaining than this. She did read that 2 people went missing on the same day in her home town and that would be fun to look into. If she did have to go threw this, she wasn't going to do it tired. She called Gaudi, his phone rang for a few seconds before he picked up.

"Hey Gaudi"

"Hi, how are you"

"I was wondering if you could tell me how to make the drink, everything is so boring and I'm to tired to deal with anything."

"You know I can't tell you how to make it, it's my secret."

"Come on, how long have we known each other."

"Long enough to say that I will tell you someday, but i can't today."

His voice sounded broken and sad, she couldn't see him but she knew that he wasn't happy. He was always happy about something so this was different.

"Are you ok, you dont sound too good."

"Oh... ya, dont worry. Everything's fine."

"Well, ok. See you when I get home."

Emma couldn't stop thinking about what might have happened to Gaudi. He was never sad, he always seemed to be happy about something so hearing him like that worried her. This was going to be a long trip if she couldn't stop thinking about it.

(Before the call) Gaudi walked back to his work, he was always the first there to open shop. He never had any trouble before and he always did everything right, if he got fired he wouldn't know where to go other than back home. Once he got inside he unlocked the doors and started to turn on the heaters for the drinks. Soon enough his colleagues started to come in. They were all staring at him and watching the windows, eventually the boss came in and called Gaudi into his office. He started to get worried, the boss only ever called someone into his office if something was wrong. He sat down on the other side of the boss' desk, his leg shaking. "Gaudi, your track record and work ethics are astounding, but we've been getting complaints about you." The manager said, his face still as uncaring as when Gaudi first saw him. "Who put in the complaints?" Gaudi chocked out, his throat felt swollen. He feared the worst from what his boss would say, he didn't know why but he knew that something bad was about to happen. "Your coworkers have all been complaining about you, that you haven't been working as hard and that you have been fraternizing with a customer. We are sorry to say this but were letting you go. By signing this form you will be given a full year's pay as compensation if you leave today." He said. Gaudi's mind raced at this, where he would go, what he would do, how he would explain why he had to leave to the only friend he had here. His mind went darker and he wanted to turn into his dragon self and bat the manager around, like a cat and a ball of yarn. It wouldn't be hard and the manager did resemble a ball.

"Yes, I'm sorry sir and have a good day." Gaudi said sadly, signing the papers while holding back tears. He walked out a few of his former colleagues were smiling at him as he walked outside while the others didn't seem to care. He walked home finally laying down defeated, on the verge of tears when his phone rang. It was Emma, he didn't want to talk to her despite her probably being the only thing able cheer him up right now. He answered after letting his voice return to normal and calming down a bit. He didn't want to worry her so he wouldn't say anything about his job right now. He reassured her that everything was fine but still couldn't explain how her drink worked yet, especially over the phone.

Timeskip + brief summary: 3 weeks

Emma got threw the excruciating 2 weeks of mindless board meeting and peptalks to a camera. Once that was over, she reunited with her family for a week. Her youngest brother had finally made a friend and she believed she saw a dragon at the edge of the forest her brother was running to. She tried to stop him and ran after him only to find his new friend with cutout of a dragon and a flashlight. He did seem a bit confused while he was holding them tho. Gaudi was miserable, still sad over losing his job. Sitting in the parks most days to feed off the joy of people walking in the park. He started to use it more as a drug than a food source at this point. He couldn't stop himself, until he got a call from Emma.;

Emma got up from her seat, tiredly stumbling off the plane. A limo pulled in next to the private jet and the 2 other people on the plane started carrying bags from the plane to the limo. Emma got in, trying to go back to sleep. Eventually the limo started moving, jolting Emma back to consciousness and the man driving it started to talk. "Where should I take you mam." Emma tiredly mumbled to him before showing him the address of the coffee shop Gaudi worked at. After a few minutes of driving they arrived, Emma got out of the limo and stumbled into the coffee shop looking for Gaudi. After a bit of waiting she walked over to one of the counters, the persons face was ecstatic that she was walking over.

"Hi, how can I help you."

"Is Gaudi here today?"

Their face slumped a little in disappoint when they heard that the rich CEO that gave out hundreds of dollars in tips was asking for a specific barista.

"Gaudi? He was fired almost 3 weeks ago."

"What! He didn't tell me he was fired."

"Ya, he was fired a few days after you stopped coming in. Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, I'm leaving."

Emma walked out, getting back into the limo and driving off. She called Gaudi to ask where he was. It took a while for him to pick up. He told her he was at the park and she immediately started to head down there. It didn't take long for Emma to find him but his usual smile was replaced by a cold frown. For the first time ever she saw Gaudi sad. It started to break her heart and she walked over, sitting next to him on the grass.

"So you were fired?"

"Yep."

"And you didn't tell me? I talked to one of your colleagues and he said it was the same day I called awsking for your drink recipe."

"Auctly, it was after I was fired. I just didn't want you to worry."

A tear started well in Emma's eyes, rushing in for a hug. She was able to force herself from crying, and she saw the smile return to Gaudi's face. He couldn't hold back his tears as he returned the hug, he felt a wave of emotions wash over him.

"I... I have to leave soon, I just wanted to stay and say goodbye to you."

"What! No, you can't leave. Why are you leaving?"

"I wanted to get away from my family, to live my own life and now that I'm out of a job I need to go back."

"Wait, because you dont have a job you have to go back home? What if I hire you."

"For what? I was fired from the only thing I'm good at."

"That's it. You could be a personal at home barista. It would pay your what your monthly salary of your last job daily, you would have a new place to stay, and you wouldn't have to go home. You could stay with me, here."

"You would do that?"

"I could print the documents in the limo and we could hire a moving team to get everything from your home."

"I don't own a house."

"Your appartment?"

"Nope."

"Where have you been living?"

"In the forest neer the lake."

"You've been... what did you have, is there anything you need to pick up?"

"Nothing important."

"Do you just want to go home?"

"I could make you your drink."

"Or we could finish watching the movie series we started."

"That would be nice."

After a few silent minutes they eventually got up from where they were sitting, Emma had forgotten how tired she was. The adrenaline she had from needing to help her friend was enough to forget she hadn't slept for the past few days. Gaudi sat down next to her, some tears still pooling in the bottom of his eyes. She typed away on the computer she had in the car until they got to her house, Gaudi silently watching the entire time. When they got home she printed out the papers and Gaudi signed them. Emma showed him his new room, it was massive, deffenetly big enough for him to sleep in his dragon form. She showed him where the supplies he would be using were until she could get a full side bar set up somewhere. Gaudi immediately began to work on a quick drink for Emma, the soothing taste and the quick energy fix was needed. Soon the day came to an end, he had unpacked the one bag he was going to use to bring his minor belongings home. Emma had put on a movie in the private theater in her house. Soon a scene came on, a monster showing it's true form to their friend with them immediately accepting the monster as they had known each other. Gaudi couldn't help but want to tell Emma. Gaudi stood up from his seat and motioned Emma to follow him. She followed Gaudi into the front yard of her house. She didn't know what was going on but she thought it was going to be fun.

"So the monster scene that was just on in there, this is kinda that. I'm... I know its weard but I'm... I've wanted to say this for a while that... I know what im trying to say here."

Gaudi kept getting caught up in his words, wanting to just show her. Emma was confused but more happy than anything, it was cute.

"Ok, I'm just going to show you, but I want you to know that I really like you and that I would never do anything to hurt you and I will only ever try to protect you."

She didn't know what he was talking about but it didn't really matter, but her calm face soon went from calm and happy to horrified in just a few seconds. Gaudi's skin started to shift and ridges soon formed, and those into scales. His limbs started to extend as his clothes started to undergo the same process as his skin. Wings and a tail started to form from nothing and grow with him. And in a matter of seconds, a full dragon stood in front of Emma, the dragon of Joy. His pink scales glistened in the moon light. Gaudi fell onto all fours, accidentally shaking the ground with his weight. Emma instinctively took a step back, her face only held one emotion, fear. She was to afraid to move, her muscles were frozen and her heart was racing. Gaudi, tried to keep his smile, but his face was burning with worrie and confusion. Emma took a step back towards the house and Gaudi's instincts started to kick in. He lowered his back closer to the ground as if to pounce on Emma while his face stayed the same. They stood in silence studying each other for a few seconds. Emma made the first move, running toward the front door to get to the safety of her home.

Gaudi jumped, missing the door and jumping past her, trying to reach out his claws to stop her from entering the house. He tried to tell her to wait but she ran threw the door without listening. Emma grabbed her phone and started to unlock it as Gaudi reached threw the open doors and grabbed her. She screamed as a claw came up and flicked the phone out of her hands. He gently pulled her out of the house, holding her in front of him so they could talk. She was punching at his claws, screaming and begging to be let go, trying everything to get away. Gaudi knew she was making to much noise, trying to calm her down. "Please, I'm not going to hurt you. You wanted to know how I make the drink and I told you, magic, It's ok, your safe just please be a little quieter for just a minute so I can explain. " Emma kept screaming for help, her voice barely able to travel to the nearest house. Gaudi kept trying to reassure her that everything was fine when something caught his eye. The neighbors light a ways down the road turned on as a silhouette walked near the blinds. Gaudi ducked between the house and the lake as Emma kept screaming. There was a scene in a older movie that had a monster eating something whole and making it completely silent. He had swallowed a few squirrels and birds when he was younger and put them in his storage stomach to transport them so his mother who could heal them but nothing as big as a human. With a sorry look on his face he shoved Emma into his open maw, making sure not to hit his teeth. He gulped again and again, the sound of Emma's pleas getting quieter and quieter. The taste of chocolate was so strong and he couldn't help but let out a sigh, his eyes widened as he did. He forced himself to gulp faster to stop it from happening again. Eventually her head reached his stomach, a thin shallow liquid pooling at the bottom, covering her already drool covered face. Gaudi closed his mouth, one final powerful gulp and he let gravity do the rest of the work. Gaudi held his throat high, he let out a sigh as his stomach started to expand, a tear started to well in his eyes as he thought about what he had done. His ate his only friend who helped him stay away from his family, and it felt amazing. He knew it was safe but he didn't know if Emma knew, he wanted to help her but he didn't know how. Emma slowly slid into his stomach, the mussels of his throat and stomach started to crush her and she had to pull herself into a ball. After a few seconds of contemplation she started kicking the walls of his stomach and stretching as far as she could when she was fully in. She begged him to let her out, offering money and whatever else, she was fully crying and hearing her cry started to make Gaudi cry.

She couldn't believe it, her friend, the only person she felt she could auctly confide in betrayed her. Gaudi didnt know what to do, his mind raced as his stomach started to hurt. Maby he could make it all seem like a dream, marking a sleep spell into the dirt and raising his hands to his stomach. The clear liquid pooling around her started to glow, more of the liquid started to seep from the muscles of Gaudi's stomach even faster. A blue dust was mixed into the new stomach fluid. She touched a bit, her mind started to swirl and the tips of her fingers went numb. She tried to stay away from the new stomach fluids but it was no use, she begged gaudy not to digest her. A small amount of the liquid driped onto her head, her legs and mid torso were already numb and she couldn't think anymore, she kept awake for as long as she could, but her mind was falling and she couldn't help but drift off.

Gaudi started to calm down, he could feel Emma slowly drifting off to sleep, she stopped fighting his stomach walls and her begging turned into quiet mumbling and sobs. He started to think of how he could spin this so she wouldn't remember what had happened. He could clean up and stay in his human form, putting her back in bed and pretend it was a dream when she wakes up. His mind started to drift and his eyelids were heavy, he laid down on the grass between the house and the lake. He started to think about how he could help her, and if she found out would she let him stay. The grass was so soft, Gaudi's mind started to swirl as he unknowingly let the sleeping spell take him.

Timeskip: Morning

Gaudi woke up to the sound of birds chirping, he looked over to his side and saw a house, the morning sun bounced off his scales and onto the white walls of the house. His gut felt amazing, he hadn't felt this full ever but he didn't remember eating anything. He rolled onto his back, the weight of whatever was in his stomach pressing onto his back was nice but he wanted to know what happened. He rubbed his distended gut for a while, it was so sensitive he almost passed out from the feeling and went back to sleep. As he massaged his stomach he thought he could feel it moving. He sat up, his claws lightly dug into the ground as he watched his stomach. He held his breath for a second watching his stomach slowly, ever so slightly expanding and contracting. If his stomach was moving while he was holding his breath then what did he eat. He laid back down and extended his neck around the corner of the house, there was a limo in the driveway and the doorway looked familiar. He realized he was at Emma's house, had it worked, did he tell her that he was a dragon, but if he was out here than were was..... EMMA!

He rolled over, immediately grabbing his stomach and pushing it forward and forcing himself to get her out. His stomach started to hurt as he pushed Emma up his throat, he couldn't stop thinking about what he had done. If she was awake she would deffenetly call the cops and he would have to leave, and if she wasn't awake how would he fix this. Gaudi was finally able to push her out, he positioned his tounge over his teeth and she slid off of it like a slow sticky slide and onto the grass. She was still somehow asleep but covered in stomach fluids. Gaudi picked her up and hastily blew off all the fluids that were on her, he couldn't feel anything in his hands or claws when he set her back down on the grass. He quickly shifted back to his human form and cafully picked her up and carried her inside. He put her on the bed in the middle of her bedroom with her head resting carefully on her pillows and lazily threw the covers over her before he quickly walked out of the room. He started to make her drink, it was still his job and he would only be fired if she remembered. He worked as fast as he could and looked for a cup, eventually finding a water bottle and peeling one of the stickers down to scratch in the rune. He put the sticker back on and as he poured the drink into the cup he heard slight movement from Emma's room.

Emma woke up slightly moving her arms, somehow the blancket was still on her bed when she woke up. She was getting ready for the surge of pain whenever she wakes up but it never came. She opened her eyes expecting them to stay heavy and her not wanting to get out of bed, but she was fully awake, she sat up in her bed and looked over to her clock seeing that it's an hour until she has to be at work. She got out of bed already dressed, but her clothes were a bit wet for some reason, oh well. She walked out of her room seeing Gaudi pouring a drink into a water bottle. He was already smiling and it only grew as he saw her walking out of her room.

"Goodmorning, it's nice to see you awake"

"Morning Gaudi"

"I tried something new for you. A white hot chocolate, courtesy of your new personal barista Gaudium"

"Thanks, it's nice that... wait, Gaudium"

"Right, I've never told you my full name before"

"I thought your name was just Gaudi"

"Ya, well... I put my full name down for my last job and no one wanted to call me that so they called me Gaudi and I've just been using that ever since"

"After all this time I'm just now learning your name? Why didn't you tell me before"

"I guess it never came up"

"Huh. Well work starts soon so I should get going"

"Alright, when you get back we could finish that movie we started last night"

"Right... it was getting good to, why did we stop watching"

"Oh umm... I don't remember"

"Well I better get going, thank you for this and I will see you when I get back"

Emma walked out of the house, Gaudium was still smiling at her as she walked out. Whenever he smiled it made her happier. She walked down the intricate brick pavement to her car but, something to the right caught her eye. It looked like a liquid splatter, it was thick and was left in small clumps around her tree and on the lawn. She walked across the lawn and knelt down to get a better look at one of the bigger clumps. There was tiny blue specks in it and it looked like they were glowing. She stuck two of her fingers in it and brought a small amount of it closer to her eyes to get a better look. It was sentless and it was silky smooth but also sticky. The blue specks in it started to move closer to her fingers and once they touched her fingers it started to numb them. Her mind started to swirl as she couldn't keep a thought strait. She flicked the substance off her fingers and wiped the rest off on the grass.

Once she got into her car she took a sip of her drink, her mind started to straighten and she kept thinking about the substance. She had seen it before while she was terrified, she thought hard on it and eventually it clicked. The pink scales, the flesh surounding her, falling into his stomach... Gaudi's stomach. She rubbed the pocket of her pants leg, it was still slightly damp. Once she felt it her face slowly shifted to pure terror and she started to shake, he eyes quickly started to well with tears. She looked at the window to the kitchen in her house, Gaudium was silently sweeping away at the floor. He seemed focused and scared but once he looked out to Emma his smile reappeared. Emma couldn't help but smile back, it was involuntary but she still felt happier when she looked at him. She pulled out of the driveway and started to think about everything that happened, shaking all the way. She was eaten whole, how was she still alive, she should have been digested, why did the slime make her numb, how could he do this? She had so many questions she couldn't think strait, all she could think about was how her friend betrayed her. She instinctively parked not realizing where she was, her mind still raced as she looked up and, all at once, it stopped.

She instinctively parked outside the coffee shop and when she realized it her mind slowed to a stop. She sat in her car for a while just trying to process what she was doing and slowly her mind became more active. She started thinking about how he worked there, her friends forcing her to meet him, the happy times they had together in and out of this shop. He was a friend, he always looked out for her and he thought he could trust her enough to tell her something probably nobody else knew about him. He may have ate her but she was fine, and for the single second she remembered not struggling it was almost peaceful. Like the biggest hug he could give her, and somewhere deep down she felt protected, almost enough to stay there. She started to remember what he said before he was a dragon and as he was a dragon and like he said, she was safe. He fully trusted her and she trusted him. She started to drive to her work, she thought about what she would say to him when she got home, maybe he'd be willing enough to show her again... and possibly eat her again.

[skvaderarts]

Devil May Cry OC Week Day 4!

I’m actually really excited for @dmc-oc-week day for because it gives me the opportunity to talk about Sirrus without delving into spoilers! Yay loopholes!

This contains slight spoilers, but nothing super important. Just keep that in mind. it won’t effect anything, but if you want to go in totally blind, tread carefully.

Dislikes:

Note: if your wondering why I did dislikes first, it’s because that’s just how Sirrus is lol! He’s not a downer, but he likes to think of himself as a realist, but he’s slightly closer to being a pragmatic nihilist, and that lack of optimism lingers in his day to day life because he’s naturally going to have his guard up at all times. He can’t be disappointed if his expectations are nonexistent. Big mood, Sirrus.

1. His father. As previously mentioned, Sirrus is not on good terms with his father. At all. In fact, he’s actively waiting for his father’s hubris to catch up to him along with some of the enemies he’s made along the way so that he himself doesn’t have to confront him and possible end him because he knows he has it coming, but he doesn’t have it in him to do it himself. He’s probably powerful enough, but he just doesn’t have the heart. Despite everything, he’s still got a small ounce of compassion in his heart towards his father that he can’t let go of, something that he loathes about himself. It’s pretty unhealthy.

2. People that abuse power, authority, or social standing. This is actually a large issue in his own immediate family, and that’s part of why his dislike for it is so powerful. He genuinely believes that you should positively contribute to the lives of others if you have the means to, and if nothing else, that you should not detract from them. As a result, he’s developed a dislike of a large portion of people in power because, I mean, fair enough. But his family does not escape this designation, and that’s a large part of why he does what he does. Not because he believes he has superior judgement or standing over others, but because he cannot solve a problem that he does not understand. So as a result, he has to go out into the field and learn from those his work effects. Assuming that he knows what’s best for everyone while simultaneously never having met those people is literally what he hates most about most people in positions of power, and he strives to not do the same. Being powerful doesn’t mean that your smart, and he knows that first hand. I feel like Sirrus would be into the “eat the rich” thing if it was a thing in the DMC universe. Very into it.

3. His mother. I feel like this one may come as a bit of a surprise to some of you who know more about him from the fic since he’s literally only mentioned her once, and doesn’t speak of her in any broad sense, but Sirrus isn’t on the best of terms with his mother, either. He doesn’t harbor any negativity towards them for splitting up when he was young. In fact, he considers it the best thing that either of them has probably ever done. But he has his reasons for not being on good terms with him mom. Day 6 will cover family and background, so I’ll get to go in depth on that day! For now, lets just put it under the broad but totally accurate category of “extremely toxic and codependent relationship” and go from there. Maybe I’ll make a family tree you you can see how messed up everything is! Yea, that would be fun! Would you like to see that?

4. Extreme heat and sun. In truth, while he does in fact become more powerful in bright sunlight, he still hates it. Why? Simple. It gives him migraines due to one of his existing (but not yet disclosed) abilities. And he just hates to be hot. He’s on the pale side (Ok, he almost makes V look like he has a tan.) so he gets sun burned. And because he’s used to a cooler climate, hot places drive him NUTS. I suppose you could say that “Discomfort” is a dislike of his, too.

5. Desk work. This one probably seems pretty random, but as an adjudicator, he actually has to occasionally file reports, and he ABSOLUTELY HATES EVERY SECOND OF IT. He’s good at what he does, no question there, but it’s kind of like being good at sending corporate emails when you hate the fake corporate politeness that you have to maintain, and you basically despise half of the company you work for. Why does he keep the job? Simple. Because no one can abuse the power of the position he’s in if he does it himself. And for him, that’s worth hating a large aspect of his job,

Likes:

1. V. Yup you read that right. Sirrus absolutely adores V, something that he himself is not used to. At this point, he’s not entirely sure what he feels towards him since they haven’t known one another for very long, but he does realize that he means quite a bit to him. After V saved his life in the fic, he really started to pay more attention to him. Before, they were friendly and he had to admit that he actually did find both V and Nero (and Nico, for that matter) really cute, but that was about it. And then as they started spending more time around one another, Sirrus realized that perhaps he liked being around V for a reason. He’s still working on understanding what he feels, but with everything going on in the fic, for now he’s just there to help and figure out what’s going on so that everything turns out alright. Then he can worry about everything else. But for now, he’s just working it out as he goes and trying to distract V from everything going on in the fic. He realizes that he’s got a lot going on, and he genuinely just wants him to be happy for a few damn minuets.

2. Being around equally strange people. Sirrus feels like an outcast most of the time, so as a general rule, he tries to associate with people as little as possible. That being said, the DMC crew makes him feel right at home, and the supreme otherness that he feels much of the time dissipates when he’s with them. It’s a welcome feeling to be sure.

3. Wine. Sirrus actually enjoys wine quite a bit! It’s something he likes the taste of, and due to his biological inability to drink, it’s something he can basically enjoy without consequence. That being said, his favorite wine is absolutely disgusting to basically everyone who’s ever tasted it (aside form V, much to his surprise) and that may be because of a certain added ingredient that was put into it for flavor. What can I say, he has unorthodox tastes!

4. Cooking good food. Sirrus doesn’t actually need to eat, but he does like to entertain those around him. If he likes you, he will cook for you. It’s that simple. It’s something from his own culture that’s been instilled in him; the idea of taking care of those that show kindness to you. And believe me, that doesn’t happen to him very often. He’s largely ostracized in most social interactions despite the fact that he says and does nothing to cause this. Its a key reason as to why he doesn't talk about what he is. It makes people... uncomfortable. And to add to that, he has a sort of aura to him that unnerves people. The way he tends to look at people at though he’s looking through them instead of at them doesn’t help.

5. Fine arts. Something that doesn’t come up much in the books is that Sirrus has hobbies. And a love for the fine arts. All of them. The more unorthodox, the better. Sirrus is that person who is dead inside and will stare at a piece of artwork for ridiculous amounts of time, pondering it’s meaning. Not in a pretensions way, but in a “what the hell am I doing with my life” sort of way. He’s a walking essential crisis, but he’s nothing if not self aware. But in regards to the arts, if it’s a form of expression, then he’s all for it. And he will probably ask you to teach it to him or become a financial patron to your work. He thinks that art and the people that make it are under appreciated, and the idea of art dying out genuinely scares him to death. He doesn’t think a world without art is worth living in. As an extension to this, he loves history. He considered much of it distasteful, but he recognizes it’s importance.

Bonus: Sirrus likes to send extravagant gifts. This is partially due to the fact that he has a very large sum of money and nothing to spend it on. It’s a regular occurrence that you will mention liking something in passing and then end up having it sent to your house out of nowhere. Sirrus did this to V with basically an entire house of furniture, and V is still trying to process it. But this isn’t the only time he’s going to do something like that. Not by a long shot.

Let me know if you have any questions! I love answering them :D And if you have any input, I’ve love to hear that, too!

[wholesomey-artist]

What I know from Erin Clover is that she Made and selfinsert oc(which I think is alright Cuz that isn't Bad)

But apperantly she is over 30 what Made some people be weired Out that an 30 year old female Ships herself With an 16 year old.

And she apperantly Made Very much Nsfw Art of her Oc/herself With Bakugou.And of Other characters too.

But prob the worst Thing is that she apperantly Made an Fanart where Bakugou r*pes her :/ I say apperantly Cuz everyone on TT Said she did but never Showed Proof.

And after all that With Yagami Yato and Erin Clover and Cuz Tik Tok IS toxic AS fuck everyone who has an oc gets sadly attacked

Okay I'll divide that in parts.. Buckle up, that's pretty long.

Erin (the person) is 30, but made an OC to ship with Bakugou, who's 16 so it's very likely her self-insert is the same age as him, probably with very little difference in age (since I saw a panel of Erin in the cheerleader outfit)

NSFW art of fictional characters usually have them aged up to supposedly legal age to avoid glares from the public (see: sakimichan). So as long as she says that the NSFW slice of her art is aged up, I still think it's normal, as a fellow artist, to draw these things of the character you find attractive (now if she doesn't... yeah that's a little odd to me :P but still not a excuse for bullying)

I can't say much about this specific part because the idea of an drawing like that also irks me but people do happen to have dark fantasies and that isn't illegal to portray that in fiction, it's not very different than to draw gore, a yandere fanfiction or a "hot" serial killer/creepypasta, in my humble opinion, so that also isn't a reason for bullying either. Usually this kind of art isn't allowed to appear in public spaces so one must have looked really deep to claim the existence of such a drawing...that or they're lying to drag the artist's name on the mud, but I don't know enough to vouch for any of the sides

TikTok is just becoming Twitter 2.0 with children who have too much influence over other children that can't see a character with a "sexy" figure or skimpy clothes that will point and cry "sexualization!" "male gaze!" "disgusting nsfw!" without understanding half of the iceberg. That's why I still think social media should be 14+ only

Not every artist from any category will put real world laws and physics to consideration in every single piece of media. Writers might write unrealistic romances with deranged characters, scluptors might sculpt action figures of characters with more muscle or more bust, 2d artists might design characters with unrealistic proportions or/and doing unimaginable things, be it good or bad.

All this havoc brings me back where I witnessed my friend, of flesh and bone, existing in this real world, being harassed for writing romance with a fictional character, pixels on a screen, a writing tool, hated by a good part of the fandom because he's incredibly evil for that fictional universe.

[leonawriter]

On Writing Fankids

Writing this because I now have two different fankids for the same pairing, in vastly different ways, and they’re very different people. So.

I don’t know how many points I’m going to make, and I don’t know how useful this is going to be, since Disclaimer: I’m not an expert on real children or medical practices, but I am trying to put effort in.

Most of this is composed of questions, because I don’t know who your fankid (or, OC-fankid) is, and the point is to make you think rather than just put ideas into your head by telling you what’s right and what’s wrong.

1 - How did they come to exist?

This is the FIRST question you should be asking when coming up with a fankid. What they look like and how cute they are is all well and good, but when you’re thinking of actually writing a story, that won’t help you.

If the parents are a cis male and cis female couple, then it’s easy to assume how they had a kid. That said, that’s not always necessarily the case, as some people may be infertile, or may simply choose to adopt. However, the answer to this becomes more complicated when fans get to wanting to give a gay couple children, as this usually means they want to give them biological children.

In the event of pairings where the parents are canonically not reproductively compatible (which includes gay, lesbian, nonbinary, and so on) there are still options, which include: a trans parent, which involves being able to write a trans person and not just overlooking how this would change their story; surrogacy, in which someone else carries the child to term for those who can’t, and the related idea of a sperm donor. 

In going into other biological options, there’s also the question of “how believable and realistic do you want this to be? how scientific? how much fantasy or sci-fi do you want here?” and if the answer is “I have fantasy and/or sci-fi in my setting” then you can use that.

That said, please don’t rule out the possibility of adoption. Adoption is the most common way for queer parents in the real world to get kids, and just because a kid isn’t biological doesn’t make them any less their parent’s child. Even/especially in a fantasy setting! And knowing if a kid was adopted, that’ll extend into how they see themself, as well as who the parent is and why they chose to adopt.

Related to that, if a kid is adopted, how aware of that are they? How were they adopted? Are they a canon character that was adopted, or an entirely new character? If they were too young to remember the adoption, how do their parents (or parent, if there was only one person adopting them) explain? If they were old enough, how do they see the person who took them in? How do they see their adopted siblings, if any exist, or any future siblings? What about any prospective additional parents, if they originally only had one, or if their parent/s is/are polyamorous? 

2 - How good are their parents at parenting?

Yes, you want your favourite pairing to be great parents, but no matter what people are going to have their own idiosyncrasies. How do the parents deal when the kid throws a tantrum? 

What if the child shows signs of being neurodivergent, are the parents any good at spotting those signs, and whether they are or not, how do they handle the difference from what they might have been expecting?

My advice here is to pay attention to the pairing in their normal canon and how they deal with situations and also how they handle children in canon, as well as then going to further sources that show what parenting is really like. Your fankid is going to be a baby, they’re going to be a screaming toddler, they’re going to have a personality and wants and they’re going to frustrate their parents a lot. If you want to put the effort in to write the family well, ask someone you know who has kids, even.

3 - What are their circumstances during their childhood?

The fun one about this is that depending on the context the child was created in, the answer can be different for children of the same pairing! 

In my case, I have Satoko and Fumiya. Satoko’s childhood (outside of her parents’ control) was traumatising, and left her as a quiet kid, despite how much she’s shown love later on. Fumiya, on the other hand, grows up in a loving environment from the start, and because of that he’s much more comfortable and confident, despite everything else that happens and so on.

This is where the child starts to develop their own personality. Think about how in the real world, children are shaped by their surroundings and the way that they grow up. Does your fankid learn that they can trust the people around them? How much attention are they given? Is that attention positive, negative, stifling? Do they feel neglected, or coddled? How easy is it for them to find food, or their favourite food? Are they surrounded by children of their own age, or mostly living around adults? Is their living situation, no matter whether their parents love them and take care of them or not, a dangerous one, and how aware of that are they?

Also important is the question of whether they even have both of their parents, or either of them. Maybe the situation here is complicated. Maybe they’re an orphan (sorry, parent pairing). Maybe they’re separated from their family, and they have to fend for themself. Maybe their parents are separated for any given reason. 

Any one of these things is also going to affect their mindset while growing up from being a baby through being a toddler, a pre-teen, and a teenager. If you want them to feel like a fully rounded out person, you have to think of them as such.

4 - What do they look like?

I’m well aware that this is the first thing that most people go with when creating fankids. I’m just saying that it’s not the most important thing you should be thinking of. 

Making a fankid shouldn’t be a mix-and-match game when you’re making biological kids. When you’re coming up with an adopted kid even less so. They aren’t a paper doll. Some children may look like a mix between their parents, while others will take on attributes from previous generations... although when looking at fictional characters you don’t own the IP of, assuming what genes a fankid’s grandparent might have passed on gets tricky. For this I’m focusing mostly on biological kids, but it should help for adopted as well in some parts.

One good rule of thumb here is to look at how genes actually work.

If nothing else, a simple starting idea would be to look at the general population and say “what is the most common eye colour here” and “what is the most common hair colour” and if your fankid is from that area, that’s probably the most dominant gene, over others.

When creating my own fankids mentioned above, my idea went that blue is an eye colour that tends to be dominant, and red hair tends to come through even just by making dark hair lighter. 

That said, hair and eye colour aren’t all you should be thinking about!

Other things that should be thinking about are: how tall are they? what shape are their eyes? Does the structure of their face take more after one parent than the other, no matter their eye/hair colour? Do they have any markings on their body (moles, birthmarks, etc), and if so are they shared with other family members? Are their features they share with family members who aren’t their parents (i.e, a sister, an uncle, a great-grandparent)? 

As they grow up, do they get taller or stay shorter than their parents? In terms of their body, do they become muscular, or not, and if so, why? Do they become fat, or thin? 

Does their health impact on the way that their body looks? This can mean both disability in terms of walking around with a cane, using a wheelchair, or any number of other things.

Do they change their body in any way? Do they choose to add tattoos, or is something done to them in some other way? Do they have any scars? Would they want to share those scars with other people, or would they choose to hide them away?

5 - How canon affects them, and how they affect canon.

Whether or not your fankid grows up before, during, or after canon events makes a difference. If it’s “before/during” then you’re going to have to think of the consequences of that on both them and their parents, but also everyone else. This isn’t just “add in a kid, aren’t they cute” this is an entire new character, with the capability to become a loose cannon and change canon events.

Things can change. That’s something you’ve got to think about, and accept, the moment you want to add this new character into things. Are you willing to change things, and if so, how far?

The kinds of changes can generally be divided into two categories: internal, and external.

Internal changes are the ways that the characters change mentally and emotionally in response to a child (their child, even) being present. In one of my stories, I change very little on an external level, but the focus is on the internal side of things, as the father of this child faces the idea that he might have lost his son, and how that makes him feel when going into a dangerous situation he may not come back from. Other characters might not see any difference, but the internal conflict is there.

External changes are the big ones, where the child being present - and, by extension, the child’s backstory and its knock-on effects - affect the present, and cause things to change in visible ways. This can mean anything from “the pairing’s child has wandered into a dangerous area filled with plot, and needs to be rescued” to “the plot has found the child” or even just “the parents have relationship issues to sort out, and that changes the plot.”

Things to think of here are - aside from “how old is this kid” as you might have come up with a kid that by this point is an adult as far as I know - how active is this kid? Are they happy to stay put and not affect things, or dot hey have insatiable curiosity and the need to do something? Do they stumble into the plot without being aware of it, do they go seek it out, or does it find them? How much danger does this put them in? If it does put them in danger, how do they deal with that, and how do their parents (or single parent) deal with that? If no danger at all, do they have fun, or are they stressed?

6 - Interactions with the rest of the cast.

Honestly, my main point here is, not everyone is going to react to a kid the same way. Just because they’re cute doesn’t mean everyone’s going to like them! And no, that doesn’t mean they’re evil. And sometimes, even the “evil” characters might handle kids better than some “good” characters. In fact, some “good” characters might do so badly with kids that they make them cry, and that doesn’t make them any less “good.” It just makes them bad at handling kids.

Otherwise, how does the kid fare with the other members of the cast, in general and specifically?

Is there anyone that they like in particular? If so, why? Did that person look nice, did they give them their favourite food? Did they do something special? What did they do to become friends?

Likewise, is there anyone they dislike in particular? What did they do to deserve that? Were they mean on purpose, or did they become disliked by means of an accident or miscommunication? Is it that this person raises their voice and the kid doesn’t like raised voices, or they don’t talk loudly enough?

Depending on the situation with the child’s parents, they might prefer people who are positive toward their parents, or who are negative toward their parents. Because let’s not forget those who don’t like being compared, and those who have parents who aren’t any good. For instance, is the child’s parent a villain in their setting? Are they thought of as a villain? Are they a criminal, or on the side of the law, and regardless of which that is, does the child agree with them, and how does that affect their relationships with others who agree or disagree with that parent?

If your fankid, for example, was mistreated by a certain set of people when they were younger, then how does that relate to later on in life, or the canon cast? My Satoko’s backstory involves medical abuse, which makes her wary of doctors scientists, and things that would remind her (even subconsciously) of that setting. Two of the characters in the cast are medically trained. Her interactions with them are going to be affected by that, even if she grows to like and trust them.

In conclusion: a fan kid can be a fun five minute thing, but if you only put five minutes’ thought into their design, their backstory, and their personality, then you’re only going to get the same view of them as a sketch compared to the time it takes to fully line and colour a work of art. 

If you want to write them, or create a full comic with them, you have to ask yourself questions about who they are, and also who you want them to be. If you want them to be a fully rounded person, then you have to put the time into it. And, really, that if this kid starts acting in ways you don’t expect, but that work, just... listen to that.

[k1nky-fool]

Between Regulations and Protocols

Part 1/?

Pairing: Thrawn x OC

m/f pairing

Rating: Teen

Warnings: bit of angst, introductions to characters and story.

Taglist: none yet. If you want to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to DM me or comment on this chapter.

It wasn’t as though she could have prevented this disaster. However, there were certainly moments which, in hindsight, could have been changed just by thinking through a decision with a wiser mind. By now, it was much too late, and the mess left in front of Ceka was as regrettable as it was dangerous.

For her at least, this was dangerous. She hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. As far as she was concerned one or two of the indulgences she allowed herself were fine. It was when these “indulgences” became so regular they might as well be the rule, that it began to be a problem.

Every time Ceka gave herself that allowance, every rule in the book ran through her head, making sure that none were being broken. As far as the book was concerned, crushing this hard on a superior was not forbidden so long as it was not acted upon and the individual in question’s work is not compromised.

There were rules for relationships. Probably because Ceka’s current predicament was not uncommon. Especially when one was serving under an officer as respectful and intelligent as Grand Admiral Thrawn. Feelings happened, and rules were in place. And while rules were not broken, Ceka could snake her way around them without even so much as bending them.

It was necessary with her situation. Long before she was ever harboring feelings for the Grand Admiral, Ceka had to claw her way to the top as a Togruta in a system that was clearly designed to cut those like her down.

Perhaps that was what drew her to Grand Admiral Thrawn in the first place. As shallow and rude as it sounded, him being a non-human, thriving in such a rigged system was astounding to Ceka. She knew first-hand what it takes just to get out of the academy in one piece. It took bone, blood, and tears just to get to her current position. It was probably another level of hell in reality to get to a position where people took orders from him instead of having to fight for enough recognition to be respected as a living being.

Of course the first thing she did when assigned as an ISB consultant on The Chimera was to do her research on her superior. Even if he wasn’t such a sight for sore eyes, she would have looked into him, just to get a map of the territory she was treading on. Ceka had served under her fair share of slimy bastards and downright war criminals.

Much to her surprise, he was almost spotless. A court marshall, but it wasn’t a severe offense, at least not to her. Above all else, nobody had anything very malicious to say about working under him. There were plenty of people who were conflicted, taking orders from a non-human. However, the vast majority of people, even Stormtroopers, had relatively nice things to say about working under him.

What they did say was that Grand Admiral Thrawn was a rather imposing presence. He ran a seamless ship, left little room for error so long as the crew did their work. It was said he was a ruthless strategist, which didn’t surprise Ceka in the slightest considering what she had read of him. He was intimidating, but very few had any elaboration on that comment. She didn’t see for herself until she was called into his office the next day. Ceka hadn’t the slightest idea of what he wanted.

Entering his office was damn near surreal. Ceka hadn’t met anyone in Imperial High Command that held such a collection of art. And especially not such a diverse lineup either. Everything from a Mirialan statuette of a goddess she couldn’t name, to a segment of a durasteel wall covered corner-to-corner in generations of graffiti, to a Clone’s painted helmet from the war it was so known for. The Grand Admiral, himself, was nowhere to be found.

Right away, this struck Ceka as odd. The art was the lesser of two analyses in her mind. She had been called over her wrist comm to meet Grand Admiral Thrawn in his office, where he is not currently present. If it were a prank from a superior officer for some hazing she was too familiar with, then it would have been a better move to call her here while the admiral was present. If it was indeed the admiral that sent for her, then there was a reason for this.

In interrogation, making the suspect wait was a tactic to put them on edge. And if that was the admiral’s goal, then it was working. But it wouldn’t do well to leave an unknown individual in your office, especially since she knew it was more than likely that he knew she was looking him up as soon as she got here. Letting her in here without supervision was a foolish move.

Unless of course, she wasn’t unsupervised.

Keeping her wits about her, Ceka began walking around the office, carefully observing everything in the room. To anyone watching, it would look more like she was admiring all the art on display, when in reality, she was scanning over every surface in search of anything that might be a recording device. If it’s sending a live feed, then it’ll be in something that can easily conceal wires or large enough and shaped well enough to hide an antenna to transmit the data to a screen somewhere.

She mentally cleared a random painting, and the durasteel graffiti wall. A few of the sculptures could barely fit enough material in them to remain standing, so those were cleared too. The Mirialan statuette was too small to hide anything. And it would be easy to see the mechanisms of a recording device inside.

More suddenly than Ceka would have liked, she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to the clone helmet. She felt stupid as soon as she noticed it; this particular helmet was outfitted with a recorder by its visor. They were used to record and review battlefield footage in the Clone War. The antenna on the helmet and the device itself fit the categories to send live feed to a holoscreen somewhere. “Very subtle, Grand Admiral. I wish I had noticed sooner, but if you were looking to challenge me, you certainly did a good job.”

A door on the side of the office hissed open, revealing the man that set up this whole charade. “Not one new crew member has deduced the design of the test until now. Most giving in to impatience long before they attempt to find reason.”

“You do this with every new crew member?” She asked.

“Everyone assigned to The Chimera ranked Lieutenant or higher.” He said. “However, as mentioned, you are the first to realize you were being observed. Let alone to find the device I was watching from.”

Ceka wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that. She was half certain he was complimenting her, but there was also a chance he was just thinking out loud about what he had observed. “Seeing as I am an ISB agent, and in charge of interrogation, I would hope I know my way around observation tactics.”

“You have found a place where your talents are put to good use.” He said, “However, I do find myself rather curious about you.”

Ceka moved to the space in front of his desk as he moved behind it to take something out of one of the drawers. "I'm more than happy to answer any questions you have." She said.

"I will keep that in mind." He noted, pulling something up in the holoprojector. It was just about every file The Empire kept on her. Every mission, every report, every personal file, and even her academy registration. "Much like yourself, I did my research when you were assigned to The Chimera. I must say, your talents are exemplary, yet based on the impression you made when faced with my test, your files do not add up."

Clearly the lack of reaction from her made him all the more interested. In truth, she expected he might say that. "What specifically do you want to know?"

"Agent Lo, I am no stranger to the ruthless ends humans will go to in order to assure they are not upstaged by someone they deem less than themselves." He cut in. "Yet you have managed to reach your current rank without any recorded incident. Not even so much as uniform code violation marres your record."

"I consider myself an upstanding agent." She said, as though to tell him respectfully to get to the point.

"Then tell me, Agent, why is it you actively dull any record of your success?"

"Sir?"

"I understand the need to blend in with your peers." He continued, "However every record that mentions an accomplishment of yours has been buried in unnecessary details; even your own reports follow this pattern."

Ceka could feel her throat tighten and her face heat as Thrawn observed her carefully as though he could see through her skin. He was indeed as intimidating as everyone had said. She had said she was willing to answer whatever questions he had, and now she wished she hadn't said that.

She forced herself to relax. "You said it yourself. I need to blend in with my peers. And you know better than anyone else what they're willing to do to cut me down should I rise above them." Ceka explained. "It's a method of survival, that is all. Remaining at the average minimizes the harassment I receive."

Thrawn considered her words. "Why minimize it?" He asked. "It would be far easier to simply retire from military service."

A small smile graced her face. There was so much more to her than just self preservation. "Because retiring is not my goal, sir."

"What is your goal, agent?"

There was the right question. "To make my home planet whole again." She answered without hesitation. "The Galactic Empire has redistributed the population of Shili to only major cities and tribes they had the ability to commit troops to. My tribe was among the many to be forced off their ancestral territory. My goal is to climb ISB ranks until I can bring to light that it is more dangerous to The Empire to force Togrutas off their homeland than to commit minimal troops to the smaller tribes."

"A noble cause, Agent Lo." He noted. "I have come to a decision. I expect you to take full credit for every successful assignment I give you. Should I find in any of your reports that you belittle your role in the accomplishment, the report will be rejected, and I will require a new one."

"Ah- sir, I-"

"That will be all, Agent Lo, you are dismissed."

Ceka opened her mouth to speak again, but the rulebook went through her head again. Disobeying orders was an offence one could be court marshalled for. But voicing disagreements were not prohibited, even though any officer would find a way to punish you for questioning orders.

However here, Ceka would risk it. "Indulge me for one more minute, sir." She all but demanded, causing him to once again pay close attention to her. "I understand what you're doing. You want me to step up; to be something greater than I am. Because after hearing what I am trying to accomplish, you believe you have a better strategy than I do."

Her words caught him off guard. She didn't give him enough time to recover before she continued. "I acknowledge that I probably don't have the best strategy. However, if you are going to require me to bend to your plan for my own life, then you're going to need a better strategy to get me to follow along." Ceka held her head high, and hid her nerves behind a strong voice. "Because if there is anything I know you have learned from your test and our minimal interactions, it is that I am patient, especially when I am being beat down and discarded."

"This is your way of telling me you do not intend to abandon your methods?" He inquired.

"This is my way of showing you the merits of my methods." She clarified. "And hopefully, I will change your mind."

Thrawn scanned her face once again, coming to some unknown conclusion. "It is unwise to reveal your end goal to the enemy."

Ceka offered a modest smile. "You are not my enemy, sir."

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way out the door. Ceka's heart raced and she had to make a solid effort to slow her breathing. Right then she promised herself that arguing with him would be forbidden from there on out. That was far too dangerous, and it was a miracle Thrawn hadn't cut her off and refused to hear her out. He could have her off The Chimera by morning. But even then she knew that this was an empty promise.

-X-

As it turns out, eighty-four was the magical number of rejected reports before Grand Admiral Thrawn finally gives in and calls you into his office to renegotiate the terms of his orders. It took twenty-eight days to reach this point. Every day, she would eat her meals and write out a new report to the same mission, even if Thrawn had yet to notify her that the last one was rejected. Ceka stood in front of his desk once again, as he flipped through all eighty-four reports on the holoprojector.

It was one single mission. An investigation into disappearing medical supplies from a medicenter on Pantora, that Ceka had figured out pretty quickly. But every single one of them was worded to shine the light of success into anyone other than her.

Thrawn must have been looking for something in the reports, but he was coming up empty handed. It was another brief moment before he shut off the holoprojector. "I admit, I underestimated your talent for persistence."

She couldn't have been more excited to hear that from him. In all honesty, it was wearing her out. Finding new ways to reword the same events was exhausting. "However, what you have shown me is something I did not expect to find." He said, now slowly walking around his desk to circle her. "My attempt to outsmart you was quickly turned into a challenge to outlast you. However, it has answered more questions about you than I could ever ask."

"I am glad the experience was illuminating, sir." She was careful not to appear smug or prideful in any way, even if she was rather proud of herself for this.

"What has come to light is exactly how you managed to remain unseen by those that wish to do you harm, yet impress those that you wish to be more visible to." He explained. "I would like to see you put this to use more often."

"What do you have in mind, sir?"

"To start, I will rescind my orders to take more praise in your reports." Thrawn said, causing Ceka to smile. "In light of your tenacity, I have another duty for you. As it is already one of your many tasks on my ship to assess the officers and troopers for information leaks, I would also like you to send me reports of those who rise above their peers."

Ceka was surprised to receive such a request from him. "Pardon me, sir, but can't you select your elite by looking at the reports yourself?"

"It has occured to me that you are far from the only officer under my command that hides behind their more obnoxious coworkers and modest wording in reports. Unfortunately, due to their efforts, it is difficult to find the more competent workers of my fleet." He explained. "You are in a particularly beneficial position to solve this problem. Seeing as you are not only interacting with the lower ranks of my fleet on a closer level, you also know what to look for in those that possess the same skill set as you."

"It takes one to know one." Ceka chuckled awkwardly, knowing exactly what he meant. Honestly it was a miracle he even saw her point of view at all. Let alone be open to changing his mind and instead giving her an assignment that they both agreed would suit her talents. "I can do that, sir."

"That is much appreciated, agent." Thrawn said, "You are dismissed."

Ceka turned to leave, but she stopped herself. Once again the rules made her hesitate. It might not be professionalism at its best, but she would give herself this allowance. "Oh, grand admiral, sir?"

Thrawn turned to face her once more. He was no longer a stranger to how bold Ceka Lo could be, but this time she wasn't angry. Instead, she smiled kindly. "Thank you. For giving me a chance." It was a split second, so fast she wasn't even sure it was completely real; Thrawn returned with a small percentage of a smile to her.

There was a faster moment that Ceka felt herself take a moment to recover, where her heart stuttered at the sight of him just smiling for a fraction of a second. However it was gone the moment she reminded herself where she was and who he was. "Sir." She nodded with a stern voice, bidding him goodbye before she marched back out the office door.

It was rare a superior gave her the time of day. And so rare to be given respect and a smile that Thrawn was the first to offer after many, many years of serving the Empire. Ceka held onto that image in her mind every time someone would say anything hurtful, or when someone would do something rude. She allowed herself to remember Thrawn gave her a chance to prove herself, and he respected her for it.

There were moments that she stood in his office again, whether it be for a strategy meeting or a PSA for the higher ranked officers, Ceka hoped to whatever god in the galaxy was listening that she might catch another glimpse of his smile.

He smirked quite often, she found. Not that it was very easy to notice those either, but once she was watching, she noticed. It was usually when he was explaining his strategy to his officers that his expressions were slightly more discernible. For the most part, he kept the same even tone, and strong, calculated glare. Red eyes kept up with every little detail going on around him, and Ceka had to wonder exactly which details he noticed.

Really at this point, Ceka found she looked for any reason to be around Thrawn. He was an island of peace in an ocean of exhausting people. But what really made her start to worry was when he probably figured out he was her island.

It was rather chaotic in the aftermath of an attack. The way The Chimera was run made the battle itself run like a well oiled machine. However, trying to get everyone on the same page, especially if there were significant losses, was pretty much hell.

One particular flight officer was being specifically infuriating. She just wanted to know how many TIE fighters they had left. Ceka did not need to know who was flying, and who came back, or why only four fighters could land properly. Cykla went off on another tangent about how they were going to need repairs before she finally cut him off. "Cykla, just tell me how many TIE fighters we have left in the fleet."

Despite her even tone, Ceka had murder on her mind and it must have shown on her face with how he shut up immediately. "Six."

"Great…" She hissed out. "Now I can go to my job and tell the Grand Admiral we need more TIE fighters. You are dismissed, Cykla."

He gave a curt nod, running off to do whatever the hell else he had to to get this ship running at full capacity again. Ceka busied herself punching the numbers into a slow datapad, being on the verge of throwing it against a wall.

"I take it Officer Cykla was being difficult." Thrawn's voice made her jump slightly, but the second her eyes landed on him, she gave a small smile, and she visibly relaxed.

"Just a little slow." Ceka chuckled, still trying to hit the datapad to get the damn number to punch in. "Which seems to be a running theme today."

"Is there something wrong with your datapad, Agent?" He asked.

"I dropped it off the hyperdrive room railing when the ship was first hit. Didn't have the chance to get it back until a few minutes ago, but it looks like a few people might have stepped on it." She explained, knocking it against her montral and hearing something make a pinging sound echo around in her head. That couldn't be a good sign. "Well, that's unfortunate. I have a few nostalgic files on this datapad."

"I am curious of what you might keep on a datapad that one would find nostalgic." He said.

"Oh, it was just a few of the Pantora Medicenter Investigation reports I never got to give you. I kept writing them until you told me I could stop." She shrugged.

"How many reports did you write?" He asked with clear curiosity.

Ceka actually had to think hard for a moment. "You gave up at eighty-four, but I had a few extras on queue. I wrote a total of one-hundred-two reports."

Thrawn usually did a great job of hiding his emotions, but ever since Ceka started paying close attention to him, she began noticing the smallest expressions he gave. Right now his eyes went to the side, as though he had to give himself a moment to process that information. There were eighteen more reports on that one mission. All of them ready to be rejected, where she was ready to write more.

When he did look back to her, Ceka was smiling again, now trying to stop herself from laughing. "Do you find something amusing, Agent Lo?"

She really wished she could say no. Usually when a superior officer asked that question it just meant to stop smiling and take things seriously. However it was not in Thrawn's nature to use many euphemisms or human sayings, so he was genuinely asking. "Yes, sir." She nodded, still smiling as she explained herself. "It's not all that difficult to read your expressions. And when I told you how many reports I had written it was like every gear in your head stopped turning all at once. I thought it looked a little uncharacteristic is all."

Thrawn became more interested in her words. "I have rarely heard that it is easy to read my expressions. In fact most say the exact opposite."

Now it was her turn to stop and think. How in the hells did she hope to explain this to him? Was she supposed to tell Grand Admiral Thrawn that he spent just about every moment of every day hoping to see him, or that if she did get to see him that she carefully watched him in hopes of seeing him smile again? No, that would be very bad. But lying to a superior officer was quite specifically stated in the regulation.

"I'm in ISB. I guess I'm just very good at watching for small details." Both statements were true. She didn't have to tell him that the two statements had little to no correlation in reality or that she was only good at watching him for close details. Everyone else she just knew how to interrogate.

A beat of a moment went by before she caught it. Another split second where he gave a genuine smile, only for it to be gone the next second. The instant that passed by in silence before he answered felt like an eternity. "Indeed you are."

His answer left Ceka more distressed than trying to figure out how to avoid confessing her every private thought to him. Did he know she was hiding something? Did he know all along what she was doing? She wanted answers, but nobody but Thrawn could give them to her. She was all the more terrified of what those answers might be.

Though, it was nice to come back to her cabin late that night to find a new datapad waiting on her desk.

She didn't see Thrawn for a while after that. Not one on one, at least. She would occasionally catch him in the bridge as she was doing rounds with all the stations. Though when Ceka looked over to him out of habit, more often than not, he would already be closely observing her. Every time he did, she would tense up again and focus back on her work.

The heart stopping call came later that week. Thrawn asked to see her in his office once again. She had no idea what this could be about, and nothing about the last week really stood out. And especially not since their awkward conversation.

Though, he didn't waste any time as soon as she entered the art-filled space. Right away, she could tell something was up. Thrawn had never looked so worn out, not even after talking to the lieutenants. "Agent, if you are not currently indisposed, I would appreciate some assistance."

"What do you need?" Ceka asked without hesitation. Either she would get this over with or she would have to prepare herself for a long task.

"There was an incident with a terrorist group on the planet surface this afternoon. Unfortunately, Commander Bengts is on medical leave for the next three weeks, and since you and I are the only officers left with the clearance and skills necessary to review the reports, we are the only ones to be able to complete the processing." He explained.

"Would these usually just go into filing? Unless there's something specifically abnormal about this incident?" Thrawn had already sent the reports to her datapad.

"Yes. According to several eyewitness accounts, an imperial officer was seen giving information and weapons to three of the attackers just before it began."

Ceka took a long breath, calming her nerves. It didn't help that she was already on shaky ground with Thrawn as she was still questioning if he was aware of her growing fondness for him. Good thing endurance was her specialty, otherwise she would have given up the first time he smiled at her.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she came to her choice. "This probably means they're waiting on some kind of information to pass on. They're not yet ready for a full attack, which is why they simply aided the terrorists and didn't blow their cover. By your estimation, how long do we have before such an informant gets their hands on severely damaging information?"

"Depending on their rank, approximately two days. In the next fifty hours, I will be receiving a transmission from the Imperial headquarters on the surface to account for the current number of troopers on guard and officers working." He answered.

Ceka took her datapad and began searching through the reports. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can sleep." She said. "Unfortunately, time is not something we have the luxury of."

-X-

-Thrawn-

"Let us start with who was present on the ground during the attack-"

"No, we need to start with who exactly these terrorists are, and what they were doing. What was their mission? How did they accomplish it? Where did they escape to after its completion? Or if they completed their mission at all." Ceka interjected. "We've been here on Wutellou for about a standard month. Start with the locals. What do we know about them as a people?"

Her interruption surprised him to say the least. To be completely honest, she hadn't ever stopped surprising him. However, Ceka had the right approach to the problem. He was certain she would just let him take the lead, but it was becoming increasingly clear that despite her near religious commitment to subtlety, when it came to him she was anything but reserved the way she was with everyone else. It was easy to see why Agent Ceka Lo had captured Thrawn's attention.

"Tellouans are a very spiritual people. They also place most of their values into unity and connection to one another and their planet." He explained. "The population seems to worship the ground, as a way of giving respect to the very thing that gives them the vegetation they grow for food and spiritual practices."

"That… sounds awfully familiar."

"I imagine it would." He said, pulling up a few sources on his holoprojector. "Watellou shares many similarities with your homeworld, Shili."

"However, they're largely vegetarians, from what I can gather. There aren't many animals big enough to eat on Watellou." Ceka noted, in a somewhat short tempered way. "So, they probably aren't as culturally focused on hunting as my people."

Thrawn noted how she grumbled about the lack of meat on the planet. It had occurred to him that Togrutas were carnivores, and unable to eat most of the food served in the mess. Though, he did make sure she wasn't starving, even though there wasn't a whole lot of good food for Ceka to eat. "You did say they hold a deep connection to their planet." She recalled. "So, it would be a fair assumption that they don't want the Imperial agricultural project on their planet, since it is so sacred to them."

"That is logical, yes." He agreed. "Which means their attacks are not likely to be carried out on a large scale, so as not to harm the ground."

"Let's take a look at the reports." She turned to her datapad, connecting it with the holoprojector. "The report of the soldier that saw what type of weapons were being smuggled said they were E-11 blaster rifles. However weapons were not the only thing given to the insurgents."

"The inventory report after the attack states several crates of empty gas canisters were also missing." Thrawn pointed out. "An attack utilizing poison gas would assure the land attacked would not be harmed."

One look to Ceka proved she was enjoying herself while digging for information. "Guess what the most poisonous plant on Watellou is." A smile cracked across her cheeks as she pulled an info file of a simple flower onto the projector. "The Osella blossom is a flower that is only found in the very few coniferous forests on Watellou. The one closest to where the supply warehouse was attacked is owned by a local businessman, who employs many people to gather these flowers. Oddly enough, four days ago, he reported that a large portion of his freshly picked flowers had gone missing."

Thrawn looked over the file on the flowers. "Only the roots are poisonous. The flower petals are dried and used for a tea that is very popular among the locals. Boiling the roots will secrete a poisonous gas known as Lesurra gas." He read. "We know the insurgents are planning a large gas attack. More than likely on the Imperial command center that has been established."

"So we know what they want, how they plan to do it, and because of the information you will be getting in the next two days, we know when they plan to do it." Ceka concluded. "Now we just need to figure out who is planning to leak that information to them."

"Now we must narrow down the list of suspects based on reports." He said. Ceka took a deep breath, finding a seat on his desk as she began reading through reports.

The low light of the holoprojector illuminated her more now that she was seated right next to it. The blue light did little to change the tone of her skin. It was rare that Thrawn met many Togrutas in his line of work, however, even Ceka was certainly something of a rare specimen of her species.

When Thrawn was researching her, he found that the specific shades of light blue that showed on her skin were only found in two clans of the Lo Tribe, and nowhere else on Shili. Ceka had a very soft appearance. Her age wasn't shown anywhere other than the length of her lekku, which placed her perhaps a year or two younger than himself. Her montrals rounded backward off her head and spiked back up like horns. The patterns across her skin were soft, bubbled shapes that spread all around like water.

But it didn't take a military genius to know she was so much more vicious than her appearance suggested. Particularly her deep violet eyes, that scanned everything as though it could give her something if she just convinced it of such. Ceka bit her lip in focus on the task at hand. She was quite brilliant, even if she was convinced her only talents were in enduring brutal treatment. Thrawn wanted nothing more than to show her that she had other talents that could help her never see such brutal treatment ever again.

In some ways Thrawn noticed Ceka's favor of him, though usually only through her demeanor. It confused him how she could manage to be both comfortable expressing herself to him and rigid the second he acknowledged her comfort.

In many ways, Thrawn saw himself being drawn to her. He rarely bothered to know his subordinates more than basic research, and in truth, Ceka was one of only seven people to ever peak his interest enough to give them the test she passed with such ease. Her response had only heightened his curiosity of her character. Even this was an opportunity for him to learn more about her. And every time he learned something new, his interest only grew.

This was indeed going to be a long night.

-X-

It had been nearly eight hours. Four a.m. galactic standard time. Every report from the warehouse had been looked through, and even people that weren't planetside had been looked into. Nothing looked even remotely suspicious.

"I don't suppose you've already ruled out the possibility that they had someone impersonate an officer?" Ceka asked with a dragging voice. She laid on her back on Thrawn's desk, staring up at the holograms that still hadn't given them a lead.

"You ruled that out three hours ago." He reminded her. "If I recall correctly, you said a Tellouan with a skin color and texture similar to a human's would be more rare than finding one with horns small enough to fit into an officer's uniform. I also agreed, stating that using an infiltrator would not guarantee they would be able to get the information they need for their attack."

"You're right." Ceka groaned, rubbing her eyes again. "Either way, we're running out of time. Forty-seven hours to find a traitor with no leads is damn near impossible."

"You say 'near impossible.' Is there something you believe would make the task at hand possible?" He asked.

"The ability to drink three gallons of caf in a minute would be helpful." She said, "More people to look through the reports would be useful. Many hands make for light work, after all, but alerting our subordinates that there is a traitor amidst them is too high of a risk. I think it's impossible to find the culprit in time with only two people."

Thrawn was impressed with Ceka in the eight hours they had spent together theorizing and even arguing at times. However, he would admit he would have never gotten this far on his own, this fast. Most of the investigation is credited to Ceka. It was his job to help her investigate, then come up with a plan once they had found their traitor.

"Agent, you are an exemplary investigator. If there is anyone that can accomplish this in the given timeframe, it is you." He said.

Suddenly, Ceka sat up. About a million thoughts looked to be passing behind her eyes before she settled on one. "Timeframe…." Her voice was quiet, as she once again took control of the holoprojector, still sitting on his desk. "We're looking at the wrong timeframe."

She pulled up personnel files from everyone who was planetside for the last four days. "Remember, four days ago, the report of a missing batch of Osella flowers was given by a local businessman?" She asked. "We know his own employee probably stole them, right?"

"That was the logical conclusion, yes." Thrawn agreed.

"First, what if the traitor isn't working alone?"

"Then I suppose only half of the information would be present in the reports of the warehouse attack. The other half would be with someone we have already ruled out, thus making it impossible for us to find the culprits on those reports, alone." He reasoned. "Who do you suspect?"

"Four days ago, Commander Bengts was hospitalized. The morning after the Osella flower batch went missing." Ceka explained with a smile on her face, searching for a minute before pulling up the commander's medical file.

Thrawn read the file thoroughly before landing on something that Ceka must have known would be there by the way she smiled. "Reason for hospitalization: Toxin inhalation." He read out loud.

He turned to Ceka once again, only to find her still smiling. "We can order a test for the Osella toxin and have the results in the next two hours."

"That only leaves her accomplice." Thrawn noted, searching through the reports again to see which officer specifically has been stationed with Commander Bengts for their assignment to Watellou. One name stuck out. "Supply Officer Cykla was planetside, stationed at the warehouse during the attack." He pointed out. "Cykla was also the officer that filled out the inventory report of what was stolen. And has also been assigned to the command center tomorrow to report inventory, where he will have access to the transmissions being sent from the command center."

Ceka placed her feet on the ground, standing tall, but a little wobbly from the sleep deprivation. "Shall I set up interrogations, sir?"

"No need." He ordered. "I will give the order to have Commander Bengts tested for the Osella toxin, and I shall reassign Officer Cykla to accompany me to organize the information from the command center. He will be forced to abandon his original plan and act in panic, giving us the evidence we need to incriminate him."

"I can help, sir. You don't need to carry this out alone." She was nearly pleading even if she could keep it behind a thin layer of professionalism.

"I am sure you can offer your skills to the mission. However you are sleep deprived, and until you are well rested, you would be unnecessarily placing yourself in harm's way if you were to continue like this." Thrawn reasoned. "As of now, you are relieved of duty until you have recovered."

"But, sir-"

"That is an order, Agent Lo." His voice became stern, but as he watched Ceka, she appeared to halted all cognitive thought as she suppressed a shiver. Thrawn noticed how her face became hot and the muscles around her throat tightened. He was unaware that Togrutas not only blushed on their face, but also their lekku.

Ceka had to force herself to breath again. "Yes, sir." Was all she could get out from behind tense muscles and a figure frozen in place.

"You are dismissed."

She marched off in a hurry, though Thrawn didn't get the impression that she was scared at all. In fact she seemed to be enjoying herself quite a bit.

Thrawn decided to focus on the task at hand. He had just barely learned the nuances of human behavior, he didn't have the time to figure out what made Ceka tick before his command center was eradicated.

-X-

-Ceka Lo-

After Thrawn had commanded her to get some sleep, Ceka was having a surprising amount of difficulty letting go of consciousness. There was a lot to process, particularly about how the entire night had gone.

She hadn't meant to so casually sit on his desk, though when he didn't stop her or even mention it, Ceka allowed herself to get comfortable. They had started the night speaking with formalities, though as time progressed and exhaustion began to take hold, she began interrupting him when she felt like it, as he would for her. She swore a few times without any shame. When she laid down on his desk, he didn't say anything. She took every liberty, and Thrawn gave them without any question.

But at the very end of it all, the order he gave her wasn't what surprised her. It was her own reaction to how he spoke. Heat shot up her spine and she stood at complete attention. What shocked her was that she honestly didn't expect to be given an order, despite everything Ceka had drilled into her head from day one at the academy. Somehow, she felt comfortable enough around Thrawn that it was a surprise when he did normal, imperial, things.

Though, even then Ceka knew this could only be the beginning of something terrible.

-X-

Somehow she managed to pass out after an hour. When she awoke again, everything appeared to be working smoothly. No trooper was out of place, no officer looked worried, and all was as though Ceka never fell asleep in the first place. Though, a quick look at her wrist chrono told her it had been nearly six hours.

Walking through corridors to Thrawn's office, she found something must be working well. There were two troopers standing guard instead of just one. "I take it Cykla is in there?"

"Yes sir." The command trooper confirmed. The other flinched when he spoke. Suddenly the other trooper was very interesting.

"Is something bothering you, trooper?" Ceka asked with a warm smile. She wasn't ignorant of her appearance. She was rather soft looking, and it was easy for people to underestimate her or trust her. Most people she interrogated were more likely to trust a non-human because of how rare they were in the Empire.

The trooper stood firmly at attention. "No sir." There was something off about his voice. Though, with two words, it was difficult to place.

"It's ok to be anxious. I'm sure anyone would be worried once they wondered why the grand admiral doubled the security in his office." She suggested. The trooper must have been eyeing her cautiously behind his helmet.

"I assure you, I'm fine sir." He said. Now Ceka could place it.

"You won't be." Before he could even flinch, she knocked the blaster out of his hand and rammed his head into the wall. The command trooper aimed his gun at the two of them, unsure as to what was going on. "At ease, soldier." She said, taking the helmet off the unconscious criminal, revealing dark green skin, and very small horns for one of his kind. "He was probably back up."

"How did you know?"

"His Tellouan accent." She said, restraining the prisoner. "Now I just need to see what his plan was. Take him to containment. I'll stand guard here."

"Yes, sir." He replied faithfully, throwing the infiltrator over his shoulder and carrying him away. Ceka pulled her blaster out, and set it to stun, now waiting for Cykla to make a break for it.

A loud crash came from inside the office, and the door hissed open. She stunned Cykla as soon as she laid eyes on him. Thrawn looked between Ceka and the man on the floor with mild amusement. "May I set up interrogations now, sir?"

Thrawn calmly caught his breath, wiping some of the blood off his cheek. "Yes, Agent Lo, that would be the wisest course of action."

...

Thrawn and Ceka stood together, watching the live feed from the two interrogation rooms, waiting for Cykla to regain consciousness. The Tellouan infiltrator nervously fiddled with the cuffs on his wrists, probably trying to find a way to break them off.

"Commander Bengts tested positive for the Osella toxin." Thrawn said, "She has been placed under arrest, but is still recovering."

"We'll need more evidence if we want to convict her. Getting one of these two to admit she's an accomplice should be enough, but I am not confident they'll talk for anything short of their freedom." She noted, looking at the two of them. Cykla was now gaining consciousness, frantically looking around the room and struggling against the restraints.

"Perhaps striking a deal with them is necessary."

Something was finding Ceka rather uncomfortably, and she wanted nothing more than to tear it apart to find out what exactly made it that way. It was Officer Cykla. He's panicking and struggling far too much for someone that had a decent plan until now.

"Perhaps not." She said, exiting the observation room and entering the interrogation.

-Thrawn-

Cykla was quick to stop moving as soon as Ceka entered the room. She didn't say anything as she sat down on the table to his left.

Thrawn couldn't see much from here, yet at the very least he could tell she wasn't trying to be imposing. She reached across the table and released his restraints, sitting back on the table comfortably and without any sign of defensiveness.

She was waiting for something. Pushing this man to the edge of something, but waiting for him to jump off on his own. Ceka remained silent. From the angle of the holorecorder, Thrawn couldn't see her face, but he almost intrinsically knew she was giving her subject a kind smile.

The silence must have become unbearable to the human. "What do you want, Lo?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She said, "You see, a witness at the scene of the attack yesterday saw you aiding the terrorists in their escape, but there's something that's gone completely unanswered, and I want you to give it to me."

"I'm not about to turn on my allies." He hissed back at her.

"Oh- no you aren't. Certainly not yet." She said, "At least not without a reason to. I happen to be in a position to get you just a year of community service, and a dishonorable discharge from the Imperial Navy. Where you can live out the rest of your life doing whatever you want."

"And what in the hells makes you think I value myself over my cause?"

"Why shouldn't you?" She asked as though she were genuinely concerned. "I've seen how much value your life has. And I believe it's worth more than being executed on a treason charge." Cykla broke eye contact and stared at the floor. "I'm not a fool enough to believe you don't have people you're doing this for. Wouldn't it be better to go home and see them again?"

Cykla came to his conclusion quickly. "I want to negotiate those terms." He said.

"Then negotiate."

"I tell you who my associate is, and I take the blame for everything." He said, "Everything was my idea, and she was forced to take orders from me. She gets to live."

"Cykla, you will be executed for this."

"But she won't." He stated. "I want this agreement in writing. So you can't back out after I'm gone."

"Your accomplice must mean quite a lot to you." Ceka noted.

"She is everything and more to me." He said.

Ceka stood from the table and exited the interrogation chamber. Making her way back to the observation room where Thrawn was waiting for her.

She was clearly torn by the situation. She began tapping through her datapad.

"What are you looking for?" Thrawn asked.

"Commander Bengts' medical record." She said, "I have a strong suspicion about why Cykla is so desperate to protect her."

"And why would that be?" Thrawn asked, curious about what Ceka saw that he missed.

Suddenly she stopped scrolling, her shoulders deflating in defeat. Handing the datapad to him, she pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against the wall, perhaps in regret.

Thrawn looked at the data on the medical file. It was a few pages after the tox screen results, so it wasn't important at the time they were initially investigating. However, it was possibly the most important piece of information in the whole investigation. "She's pregnant."

Ceka nodded. Now it made more sense why she was so torn on this decision. "Tell me I'm being too soft." Her voice held strong, but the tensity in her muscles said otherwise about her emotions. "Tell me we should just execute them both, and move on with our lives. That it's better to just manipulate his confession and charge them both with treason like every other officer would."

"Do you truly believe that to be the wisest course of action in this case?" Thrawn asked.

"I want to believe it is in my best interest."

"Yet you are still questioning it."

"By Imperial Law, I need a confession from him to charge her. But if he doesn't confess to her being an accomplice, then there's nothing I can do, and at most she'll be medically discharged." Ceka went through her thought process. "Either way, Cykla is going to be charged with treason. There's no way I can get around that."

"Then perhaps you don't want him to give up Bengts." Thrawn suggested. "She will be medically discharged, and you don't live with that on your conscience."

"I can't allow Imperial Law to be determined by the weight on my conscience." She argued.

"Then don't allow it." He stated.

"It'll be a failed interrogation on my near flawless record."

"Attempting to rationalize the less favorable option will not help you make the decision you have already made."

Ceka bit her lip and closed her eyes. She took a moment to take a deep breath before neutralizing her expression and leaving to speak to Cykla again.

On the holoscreen, Ceka stood to her full height. "We will not abide by such an agreement for your accomplice."

"You what!?" Cykla burst. "You can't! She has to live!"

"It will take more investigation, but I am confident that I can find a name without your help." She calmly exited the room as Cykla struggled against the handcuffs.

Ceka didn't return to the observation room.

[pensivetense]

A List Of (Mostly TMA) Fic Recs Sorted By Vibe

Not an exhaustive list by any means, just a few favourites that caught my fancy. I shortened many of the summaries for space.

I’m going to pin this here and update it as I go.

Also, I’m pensivetense on ao3

MELANCHOLY VIBES

for when you want to feel comfortably muted

(sad but not utterly bleak endings here)

Hope, Etc. (Dickenson, et al.) by yellow_caballero

Jonathan Sims, six months after the Unknowing, wakes to find himself without a daemon - without humanity, without a soul. It’s a cursed half-life, but existence as a shell without a heart isn’t so bad: between solving the mystery of a persistent illusion cast over his friends and some light pseudo-cannibalism, a life as a monster is better than no life at all. At least, it would be, if it wasn’t for the fucking Owl.

A freaking. Amazing. Daemon au. Ties the lore of Dust with TMA lore very satisfyingly, but is mostly about Jon navigating what it means to be human, or, in the absence of that, a person, and doesn’t require prior knowledge of His Dark Materials. Cannot recommend highly enough.

after one long season of waiting by nuinuijiaojiao

Annabelle is not used to having nice things. or, Annabelle heads to Upton House, muses a little, and gets some well-deserved rest

I love survivalist Annabelle and also the concept of the Web as kind of a horrible Patron, actually.

i love you. I want us both to eat well. by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse

At the safehouse with Martin, Jon decides it's time to quit statements once and for all. The Eye disagrees. Martin just needs Jon to be okay. It's quite possible that nobody is going to get what they want.

Scottish Safehouse Era, Jon and Martin coping with their respective Entities... really, really good.

the friend by doomcountry

He always greets a new spider when he meets it. It’s instinct, born in childhood, the same way he instinctively counts magpies, or flicks salt over his left shoulder. A little harmless superstition. A bit of politesse.

A great Martin character study with eldritch spider horror included. The imagery regularly haunts me (in a good way).

autumn’s rare gift by bee_bro

Annually, the two meet, renewing the binding ritual where it had all started. The procedure simple: a waltz.

Singlehandedly made me ship Gertrude/Agnes so there’s that. It’s so bittersweet and bee_bro’s writing is, as always, incredibly poetic. (I’d recommend everything they write, actually.)

smile, you’re trending by Goodluckdetective

During an encounter with another Avatar of the Eye, Jon faces his past, Martin takes a turn at playing Kill Bill and Basira has a second look at the monster she’s determined to see. For three people associated with the Eye, they could all use some perspective.

Features an original Eye Avatar character who’s a YouTube personality; she is infuriating and inspired and genuinely frightening and I cannot say enough good things.

Humility by The_Lionheart

have you no idea that you're in deep?/i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week,/how many secrets can you keep?

An OC centric story but don’t let that put you off, it’s amazing. Very heavily focused around Jonah Magnus and the other Avatars as they change through the years. Also, I’d die for the OC.

oh, for one sweet second without the eye series by faedemon

Beholding does not like in the way humans do, but it likes its Archivist all the same.

I’m just so fond of the way this is done stylistically. I have a great weakness for dialogue only/dialogue heavy writing, not to mention all of the wonderful character beats and interplay of humanity/inhumanity for Jon and Melanie.

Rewind by WhyNotFly

It takes eight days of forced confinement for Jon to start hallucinating. [...] It’s Martin, though, that his exhausted brain conjures, because of course it’s Martin. After all this time, of course it’s Martin.

Jon willingly allows himself to be confined rather than hunting for statements, and examines his relationship with Martin.

for a firmament series by supaslim

There is beauty in destruction. There is art in becoming. In which Jon becomes the Archive, and the Archive becomes Jon.

Part two posted this morning and uhhh. Good. Also if you’re here for weird eldritch body horror (I am), this one’s for you.

ONES THAT JUST HURT

for when you want to feel sad

(somewhat bleaker endings here/everyone is NOT okay)

Feste by yellow_caballero

If asked, Martin would say that he became the shadow director of the Magnus Institute by accident. But nobody ever asked, and nobody ever cared, and it was in this way that Martin stopped lying to himself. Or: break free, Martin. All you have to lose are your chains. And your sanity.

Oh, this one totally didn’t go the way I expected it to. A study in isolation. Could go into the category above, as the ending is not bleak, but the tone of the whole is somewhat more depressing than most there.

Ghosts of Love by RavenXavier

Nothing made Martin more grounded in the world than yearning for Jonathan Sims.

Lonely!Martin that really captures a sort of visceral ache. Hurts me and yet I keep rereading.

i do desire (we may be better strangers) by godbewithyouihavedone

For ages, it only knew how to worship, taking human bodies and living off the fear of those who remembered. It never knew love until it became Jonathan Sims. Now it must fight against every instinct to save Martin Blackwood. Archivist Sasha, Not!Jon/Martin, and the worst kind of Fake Dating AU.

Oh, this one just made me sad. The poor not!them, which is something I never thought I’d say.

Apple Of Your Eye by fakeCRfan

In which the Eye is fond of Martin. Perhaps a little too fond for comfort.

Somehow manages to be both sweet and horrifying—the characterisation of the Eye is incredible. ‘The Eye loves Martin’ is a scenario that’s so utterly doomed to failure and yet the writing is packed with so much pathos that I just want them all to be happy. A fantastic use of themes of agency and choice, and the single best use of Beholding as a source of horror I’ve read.

The Last Press by copperbadge

Jon Sims is awake, and has begun preparations for the Rite of the Watcher's Crown. Peter Lukas, who woke him, would be content to rule at his side. Martin is very upset about all of this, and the Lukases aren't thrilled with it either.

I really can’t say anything without spoiling the end and it’s so good. An alternate take on the Watcher’s Crown. Not a pairing that I ever thought would work for me, but this made it work.

watch the blood evaporate by 75hearts

It starts, like so many things in Jon’s life have started, with a nagging itch of curiosity. Jonathan Sims uses his healing abilities throughout s4. Read the tags.

Dear God please read the tags. But this is some high quality pain if it’s for you.

the lighthouse series by low_fi

Peter Lukas is a lighthouse keeper. One evening, he gets a call from a cryptic overseer tasked with monitoring his work.

This is such a vivid and yet subtle story—from the setting to the emotions portrayed, it creeps up on you slowly. The ending was like the gentlest possible gut-punch. The sequel just completed, and yeah, just as wonderful. This one is very much LonelyEyes but I listed it here because it is just exquisitely painful.

SATISFYINGLY HOPEFUL VIBES

for when you want to feel cozy

Clutching Daffodils by Gemi

Martin has always liked the idea of love at first sight. It’s such a romantic idea, the whole thing of it. Seeing someone and instantly feeling that strange, twisting feeling deep inside that every single media likes to obsess over. Of knowing you are in love within the day, petals falling from your mouth and warmth filling your chest as love burrows deep, vines twisting through your lungs. He always liked the idea of it. And then Jonathan Sims starts working at the Magnus Institute.

Somehow manages to be lighter and fluffier than most hanahaki fare, despite the setting. I’ve reread this one a lot.

the least he could do by Prim_the_Amazing

Martin should in fact not pick this man, specifically because of how attracted he is to him. It would be the responsible thing to do. Except he’s already following him. And he’s hungry.

Fluffy vampire au which everyone’s probably already read, but was too good not to mention.

rather interesting by bee_bro

Jonah Magnus realizes that, for some reason, when he comes in contact with weed, Elias Bouchard's consciousness will come into his life banging pots and pans.

Oh boy. So these are all favourite fics but this one is a favourite amongst favourites. The way Jonah is characterised (i.e. incredibly sensitive to scrutiny) is my favourite depiction of him, and the slow-burn between him and Elias is far sweeter than it has any right to be. Also, it’s hilarious.

The Magnus Records series by ErinsWorks

In a world parallel to that of the Archives and the Institute, a supernatural sanctuary stands against a cruel and uncaring world: A world of bureaucracy and tyranny, of murder and carnage, of loneliness and surveillence, of plague and death. But in this world of fear and misery, 14 entities born of the hopes of the world have emerged. And one of them has made their home here, at The Magnus Sanctuary. Perhaps, the employees within may lead happier lives than their counterparts did in the Archives.

This is just so goddamn pure. The author writes a really imaginative, fleshed-out alternate world and alternate Entities with engaging, well-written short statements. All of the character voices are absolutely on point, and it’s overall absurdly hopeful without ever feeling overly saccharine. I love this series so much, you guys, you don’t even know. I want to print it out and paste it on my wall. I love it.

HARD APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel dark and angsty (and eldritch)

Most of these are shorts/oneshots because it’s just that kind of genre, y’know?

Ashes to Ashes by marrowbones

A conversation at the end of the world.

Oliver Banks is one of those minor characters that I am overly attached to. Love him here.

Employee Benefits by equals_eleven_thirds

The Magnus Institute offered some normal employee benefits: a pension plan, holidays, travel subsidies, free lunch on the last Friday of each month. Rosie makes it work.

This manages to hit that perfect sweet spot of satisfying and hilarious. Rosie gets to torment Elias, as she well deserves.

a rose by any other name by Duck_Life

Part of Jon blooms in Jared Hopworth’s garden.

This one was sad and honestly too gentle to really belong in this category, but I love it.

Eye to Eye by Dribbledscribbles

In which Jonah Magnus attempts a post-apocalyptic pep talk.

Unreliable narrator at its finest, and the implications are suitably horrific.

commensalis by doomcountry

The tower is endlessly, impossibly tall, but Jon’s work is taller.

If you’re here for the eldritch imagery, then this has some of the best.

SOFT APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel gently triumphant

apocalypse how series by sunshine_states

Humanity adjusts. The Entities have Regrets.

Some nice vignettes set in a kinder apocalypse.

ceylon series by Sciosa

The one in which Jonathan Sims decides that no, actually, he isn't going to let the world just end.

I include this only for the sake on completeness, as everyone has no doubt already read it.

rituals by doomcountry

Martin is the first person to knock on the Archivist's door since it arrived, fully, into its little waiting temple. The Archivist saw him coming from down the hall, but decides to feign interest when the knob turns, and Martin—still a little bit smaller, a little more translucent than before—stands uncertainly just outside the room.

This one’s a little less focused on the world at large and more on JonMartin specifically.

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way; (although perhaps the world itself and the darkness that exists behind it isn't quite as out to get everyone as it seems).

More ‘soft revolution’ than ‘soft apocalypse’, but has the same vibe. A time travel fix-it. Incomplete but worth it if this is a mood that appeals to you.

Scarred Ground by DictionaryWrites

“You see," Elias said softly, "people always have this idea that only living things can be scarred - and they're right, of course. But a building is a living thing, Martin. And the ground can be scarred, too." "I don't have any scars," Martin said. "Yes, you do," Elias said. "You just need the right light to see them.”

Falls somewhere between ‘Apocalypse’ and ‘Soft Apocalyse’ but I’m putting it here because I feel like it. Also technically a LonelyEyes fic. I found it hard to follow at first but it’s worth sticking with; things will eventually begin to make sense and come together.

LONELYEYES

for when you want to feel lonelyeyes

marrying anguish with one last wish by procrastinatingbookworm

In which Elias isn't Orpheus, and Peter isn't Eurydice, but Elias brings Peter home anyway.

Lives in my head rent free forever. My favourite lonelyeyes fic.

ouroboros by Wildehack

“You know,” Jonah says, a muscle in his calf quivering agreeably where it’s slung over Mordechai’s shoulder, “it’s really quite--fortunate--that I don’t care for you at all.”

Oh, this one hurts in the best possible way. The endless cycle of their relationship, the way it comes full-circle... yeah, good. Actually, no, this one might be my favourite. It’s a tie.

Breaking all the Rules by Thedupshadove

Elias proposes a somewhat...unusual wager.

Soft lonelyeyes? In my recs? It’s more likely than you think. Short, sweet, and... sweet.

Threefold by Sprinkledeath

Peter Lukas breaks three rules.

I’m just a slut for mythology allusions I guess.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight by prodigy

In 2014, Elias Bouchard takes a rare trip outside of his comfort zone. Peter Lukas wastes a bunch of money. You'd be surprised how many things can go wrong for two beings of cosmic power.

I love the sense of the history of them you get while reading this.

love is just a word (the idea seems absurd) by kaneklutz

"Something's wrong. It's stopped hurting" An avatar of the Lonely and an avatar of the Beholding walk into a bar relationship. It was bound to blow up in their faces.

Short, sweet, painful. Excellent exploration of their priorities.

Victor by penguistifical

elias tries something with his powers that he hasn't attempted before

The one where Elias tries to raise the dead. Not incredibly LonelyEyes centric but that’s still the pairing.

Simon Says by penguistifical

“Peter asked me to drop by and have a word with you, and, so, here I am.” Simon chuckles at Elias’s disbelieving stare. “Well, he asked in his own way. He’s not a complicated man, you know. He either comes from your arms looking like a stroked cat that’s been given a dish of cream or looking like he’s been in that toy boat of his out in an unexpected storm. He was far angrier than normal, so I daresay you weren’t cream today.”

I mean personally I’d just go ahead and rec all of penguistifical’s LonelyEyes fics but this is a standout for me.

AROMANTIC AND ASPEC MOODS

for when you want to feel Seen

The Aro Archives series by WhyNotFly

These are all just really really good. From Aro!Peter to two different aro-spec versions of the Scottish Safehouse to a long and beautiful aro hanahaki fic, this series is uniformly wonderful. The two Scottish Safehouse ones (Torn Edges and Murky Water) are my comfort fics.

and now all fear gives way by j_quadrifons

Before he can think it through, he murmurs, "Is that what it feels like? Being in love?" Martin's hand stills in his hair and Jon's stomach drops.

This one just. Wow yeah this is how it be. Another absolute comfort fic of mine.

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

I’m going to be honest—I didn’t know where to put this one. But it ended up here because the real standout of this fic for me is the portrayal of Sasha, and especially her portrayal as an aro character. So I’m putting it here. Mind the content warnings with this one!

HUMOUR

for when you want to feel delight

The Torment of Sebastian Skinner by Urbenmyth

After the Eye's victory, the statement givers are trapped in their horror stories, living them over and over again. Naturally, this works out better for some then for others.

Premise? Delightful. Execution? Fantastic. I read this one to cheer myself up when I’m sad.

Unlucky by VolxdoSioda

Jon’s dice betray him

Short, sweet DnD au, and the reason I cannot get DM!Elias out of my head now.

Voracious by beetl

A bird hits the window. Jon experiences The Flesh's thrall.

“Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” but make it literal.

The Stupid Endings by Urbenmyth

There are a lot of very deeply thought out and creative AUs on this site. These aren't among them. These ones are how the story could have ended, if Jonny Sims was a dumbass.

These are just uniformly hilarious, I cannot recommend them highly enough.

PODCAST CROSSOVERS

for when you want to make one of those “if I had a nickel for every time...” posts

The Sabbatical by morelikeassassin

Nicholas Waters is in need of an all-knowing eldritch entity beyond the confines of human imagining to help with his latest ritual. He'll have to settle for Jonathan Sims, who happens to have nothing better to do.

Crossover with Archive 81 (s3, specifically). Both fun and bittersweet.

The City And Its Sorrows by cuttooth

“What makes you think your friend is in Eskew?” David asks. He feels he can risk the scrutiny of the city that far. “I read that this is a place people end up when they get lost,” says the man. “This is a place people end up,” David agrees./The Archivist comes to Eskew.

Contemplative piece, and I love the way it presents David’s relationship with Eskew, the way he finds it horrible and hates it and yet belongs to it, is almost proud in the way he shows to to Jon. Great little vignette of two people oppressed by eldritch powers, intersecting.

Hiatus by bibliocratic

My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am in Eskew. (Jon gets lost in a Spiral city. It is not as easy as escaping.)

This one is far more focused on Jon than David, and is honestly more Eskew-weird than Spiral-weird. In the best way. Told in Eskew episode style, and is very good.

Sweet Music by Shella688

Eskew has a music to it, if you know how to listen. The percussion beat of thousands of footsteps, the melody in the squealing of the trains overhead. Today, the music of Eskew comes in the form of nine musicians, playing outside my office. My name is David Ward, and I am in Eskew.

Not TMA, but since a lot of Mechs fans go here—this one’s a Mechs/Eskew crossover. Short and simple, mostly David Ward centric, just a little well-written one shot I had to mention because I enjoyed it but it doesn’t have much traffic. Nice portrayal of the Mechs from an outsider’s perspective, and how genuinely strange and frightening they’d come across (especially if you’re already being haunted by and eldritch city). If you like Eskew-style storytelling, check it out!

NOT TMA

...but good enough that I physically cannot make a recs list without including them. Here!

[brighthappybird]

What if the Angels had Pacts pt. 2

So this has been a thought that I’ve been thinking about. What if the Angels of Obey Me had pacts. What would they be like? So I already answered that question right here - What if the Angels had pacts? 

Now let’s look at what if the brothers, as angels, had pacts and what the MCs may have gotten from that. And just for the fun of it, I’m throwing Satan in here. 

Like always, if you want your MC, Demon or Angel to be thrown into the mix, don’t be afraid to like throw them my way. I’ll gently catch them and write for their pact, if you wanted! 

Let’s start off with what we know what the pacts do. There might be more information that might come out later, but for now, we know that the pacts help the MC control the demon brothers, by either controlling them or by having some form of bond to them. That’s about as much as we know, if anyone else knows more, feel free to add on!

With the brothers, it is a little tricky since you would need to look at what their sins would be the opposite in the Celestial Realm. Additionally, when I talk about their symbolic animals, I’m analyzing them from a totem standpoint since that gave me the most information when analyzing them.

Lucifer, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Pride --> Virtue of Humility

Mammon, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Greed  --> Virtue of Generosity

Leviathan, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Envy --> Virtue of Admiration

Satan, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Wrath  --> Virtue of Forgiveness

Asmodeus, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Lust  --> Virtue of Chasity Love

Beelzebub, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Gluttony  --> Virtue of Discipline

Belphegor, Avatar/Prince/Sin of Sloth  --> Virtue of Zeal

I hope everyone likes this! I will be posting a Diavolo bonus to this, but I’ll be taking a quick break from this. Also, please send me your MCs/OCs for Obey Me! I would absolutely love to write something like this for them! 

Now that we have each of their virtues listed out, we [as the players] know that each of them have shown some form of their former virtues (before they fell) when interacting them. Granted, it is a little warped, but it is still there. The issue is most of their personalities that we know now, are their current demon forms. We don’t know much about how they acted as angels. Though who is to say that isn’t going to be changed in the future!

Lucifer, Virtue of Humility - He was once known as the Morning Star. There are times in the story where multiple characters will say he was the gem of the entire Celestial Realm. The pride and joy of the Celestial Realm. There are instances in the game where Luke has said that he admired Lucifer more than Michael before he fell, which means, he was one that probably had the biggest influence amongst the other angels, even compared to Simeon (from the last post). 

Since he is the virtue of humility, we can assume that he was not as prideful as he is now. There was a sense of give and take, where instead of having the burden of the entire world on his shoulders like now, as an angel (even if he had his own fanbase), he would share the burden of what he was thinking. All in all, he was humble or rather, had a much lower view of his own importance. 

Lets go a little deeper into this by analyzing his symbolic animal as well. His symbolic animal is a peacock, which we know symbolizes pride, beauty and confidence. Something that he no doubt, he has had follow him through his time of being an angel then his descent in being a demon. The other things that a peacock symbolizes are balance, awareness, leadership and ressurection. In a way, we could say that his rebirth as a demon was foretold in the cards, but let’s skip that. Balance, Awareness and Leadership, what was Lucifer known for in the Celestial Realm? He was someone that the angels would rally around and see him as this great leader. The Morning Star. 

If the MC were to make a pact with Lucifer, when he was an angel, one could assume he would be guardian angel++ like Simeon. Though instead of taking more of a passive guardian role, he would take more of a assertive role should the pact holder be in danger. Though getting a pact with him would be much more difficult compared to the other brothers and this is because of how low he views his importance and how his importance is only tied to his title of The Morning Star. So have fun MCs!

Mammon, Virtue of Generosity - Though not much is spoken about Mammon and the others during their time as an angel. All we know is that Mammon was Lucifer’s favorite. That’s about it. Honestly, a part of me likes to think that Demon Mammon and Angel Mammon would have the same issue of being poor. Angel Mammon just giving away every single cent that he has in order to help someone else. Instead of looking for an opportunity to make money, he looks for an opportunity to try and help. Remember that impulsivity that Lucifer has tried to curb with many rules?  Well, different realm, same Mammon, just a different reason why he’s out of money. 

Since he is the virtue of Generosity, we can assume that he is still actively seeking money, but also seeking opportunities to help others. There is a sense of “give” “give” “give” and it is almost uncontrollable. He is just as soft in his angelic form as he is in his demon form, but he does not actively hide it. If anything, it is one of the reasons why humans and other angels find him more approachable. 

Let’s also talk about his symbolic animal. I know, I’m like dissecting each of the attributes that each of the brothers have, but it is just so interesting. So for Mammon, his symbolic animal is a crow which is known for being a bringer of prophecy and good luck. Other attributes denoted to the crow is intelligence, adaptability, insight, and being fearless. Now, Mammon is not that fearless, but he does have his moments where he will disregard Lucifer’s warning and do what he wants, despite the consequences. Though there is something deeper, Mammon shows much more emotional intelligence compared to most of his brothers, he is able to tell how the MC is feeling (despite disregarding it  a little) and there are times where he shows high levels of intelligence when it is something he cares about. 

If the MC were to make a pact with Mammon, when he was an angel, one could assume that he would be a guardian angel. Not a guardian angel++ like Lucifer or Simeon, but he is the guardian angel that would have quite a few pacts. Instead of being indebted to witches, he would be constantly fretting over the state of his human. With the pact, Mammon would know the state of his human and how they are doing financially or emotionally. He would be the angel to search the ends of the earth to find exactly what they need to make them happy and feel secure. Even if it means, spending some time with him. 

Leviathan, Virtue of Admiration - Going to be a little honest, Levi was a little hard thinking of. Since his Envy and his admiration are rather similar. Though the one thing that does change is that he respects himself a little more. He appreciates his own interests instead of putting himself down. He still enjoys consuming media, video games and using netspeak as he usually does. He is still interested in anime/manga/books, but he is a lot more social able. 

As the virtue of admiration, he admires other individuals collections and instead of comparing himself to them and putting himself down, he takes an interest in their interests and actively asks them questions. If anything, he feels embarrassed and shuts down when he feels like he has crossed a boundary or forgot the MC’s interests. 

As interesting as it is, Leviathan’s symbolic animal is the serpent, which symbolizes fertility, life and healing. They are also the symbols of rebirth, transformation and immortality. There are various aspects of this that almost seem like it opposes Levi as a character as a whole, but he does go through his own form of rebirth. Instead of being a recluse in the game, he ends up opening up more and talking to his brothers as well as the MC more. The healing aspect would be something that he does as well as has his charges do, if he were to have multiple pacts at once. Helping them heal from their social awkwardness, at least bring them to a bearable amount, where they could make friends/allies. 

If the MC is able to get a pact with him, they should feed into his admiration aspect. Since keeping him hooked on their interests and keeping him interested. Which is a downfall for him, but I digress. Though he falls into the same category as Mammon, he is a guardian angel. He is able to sense when his human is excited or if someone hurt their feelings regarding their interests or just hurting their feelings in general. That is enough to bring him to their side and comfort them. Just reminding them why they liked what they like. Though if he needs to, like in the game, he is not afraid to snap at those making his human feel bad. 

Satan, Virtue of Forgiveness - Now humor me for a little bit, we know it is canon that he was not originally an angel. Just humor me. Though not much of his personality changes. He is still the sensible, quick witted and the voice of reason. Though instead of his voice just being reserved for his brothers, he is used to settle arguments between all angels that may have a spat.

Satan was still born from Lucifer, but instead of blaming Lucifer, as much as it annoys him, he ends up forgiving Lucifer a little more. With how well read he is, he understands that there are certain causes that he can argue for since he would know why the individual acted the way they did. Though unfortunately, this would cause some tension, since even as an angel, there might be some ridged that may come from him going from what the book said or going with a solution he had ended up seeing that worked. The MC would need to actually show him not all problems are cut and dry, but also there are other paths to forgiveness and that sometimes, individuals cannot forgive if someone truly wronged them.

Lets quickly look at his symbolic animal. In the Devildom, his animal is the unicorn. This mythical animal is generally tied to both strength and fierceness. Though delving deeper the unicorn also represents a wisdom that is far beyond their years, reason, innocence. Which is true in a way, there were times in the game where despite having all this knowledge at his fingertips, Satan was caught offguard by something simple and it embarrasses him, but despite that he probably has more information in his brain compared to your average demon. This does not change as an angel, if anything, he is able to use the information that he has stored in his brain to help him better understand problems and work through it. 

Since he is a newer angel, it takes a bit of time for him to fully grasp everything. Though that does not mean that he is not a strong angel to have a pact with. Like Lucifer, he needs to be convinced since his entire value is based around whether or not he is well read but also his worry that he is not worth much because of his connection to Lucifer and only being compared to the Morning Star himself. The MC would need to pull him out of his shell a little bit. Though getting a pact with him would be like an guardian angel, not on the same level as some of his other brothers, but he would be the inner voice of the MC. Though there are times where he has talked MC down from doing something rash, or talked through the pros and cons of their actions, but ultimately leaves them to pick what they do. 

Asmodeus, Virtue of Chastity Love - You know, this one is a bit tricky considering what the word Chastity means. So I’ll be going with a more broader definition. So, let’s change it to Love. Virtue of Love. Since in the game, I feel like Asmo’s role in the Celestial Realm was not representing Chastity. That is just my opinion. Once known as the Jewel of the Heavens, there is a time where Simeon tells the MC that despite falling, he still views Asmodeus as the beautiful angel that he once was. Since there was one line that always stuck with me, despite being a demon for a millennia (or longer), he still tries to be the angel that he once was. Someone who was loved and adored, which means, he knows the feeling of love and the feeling it gives when one is in love. 

As an angel, he would have been an expert when it came to feelings like love, ecstasy, compassion, and sometimes even the more negative emotions like anxiety, anger and jealousy. All of it driving from a single point - passion. Unlike the other brothers, I want to focus on his symbolic animal, which is a scorpion. As stated it symbolizes both passion and dominance, which we see quite a bit, but what if it had a deeper meaning when he was an angel. With a little bit of research, you can find that scorpions also represent transformation, rebirth, defense and a sense of devotion. Which are aspects that one could find in love as well. Where love can bloom as friendship, where it slowly kindles and grows into a strong flame for one another. A requited love.Then if you look at the rebirth aspect, you can think of it as someone going through a broken heart, finding a sense of love and belonging in another, when their time comes, and so on so forth, but there is always a level of devotion between all of those.

 Asmodeus as a demon is quite passionate, in our case - as an angel, he was passionate about humans and finding their love or helping them work through their love if they were scorned. If an MC were to enter a pact with him, one could expect him to be a guardian angel++ and some form of a cupid. He is the one that would be there to lend his ear to his human, help them heal through a broken heart, but if the other person in the relationship/friendship truly wronged his human, like Lucifer, there is a chance he might take on a more assertive role versus a more passive role when dealing with it. 

Beelzebub, Virtue of Discipline - there are aspects of Beel’s virtue or his former angelic status in him, the more you play through the game. There are often times where he shows restraint (despite the inner battle he keeps fighting) when looking at delicious food or looking at something he wants. He shows quite a bit of discipline compared to his Sin of Gluttony. His discipline shows when he focuses on the sports he plays, his work out routine, but also  

Alright, now this is a little bit of a tricky one considering his symbolic animal is a fly. Since it is generally symbolic of illness, disease and war, but what if as an angel, he had a different symbolic animal? Something similar to a fly, but when he fell, it ended up becoming a fly. How about a dragonfly? Since if you look at the symbolism of a dragonfly, it is almost the opposite of what the fly represents. A dragonfly represents joy, adaptability, understanding and self realization. Now, the reason why I’m focusing on these four traits is because these are traits that we have seen Beel exhibiting in the game. There are numerous Devilgram cards that talk about how Beel has a deeper understanding of his and his brothers emotional states and how he holds family above food. Which, for someone who is always assumed that he holds food above everything, having a meal or something, this is a big turn of events. He seems to be the one who tries to adapt compared to the rest of his brothers, tries to understand, and generally, he realizes what he needs before most of his brothers realize what he needs. 

The type of angel is wrapped up in how he is even as a demon. I feel like, compared to the other brothers, he hasn’t lost most of his angelic charms compared to them. It hasn’t been warped as much. Though all in all, as an angel and with his pact, you’re going to find yourself well loved. He’s more like a companion angel, ones that you may see walking beside humans in human form or protecting their charge without a second thought. This goes back to his level of love and respect for his family, and while having a pact with him, you’re like family. 

Belphegor, Virtue of Zeal - A part of me thinks that zeal really does not match Belphie if you ask me. This is one of the virtues that make me go “hmm...maybe not,” but you know, we’re going to work with it. As a demon, he is a trickster and usually goes after his own goals, no matter the repercussions. This is seen when the MC is interacting with him in the first season. Don’t worry, not doing to spoil anything. Though he does show some form of mellowness and some level of playfulness that is harmless mischief. 

Belphie has the cow representing them. These animals generally symbolizes positivity, and fertility. We are ignoring fertility for this, it does not exist. Other aspects that the cow represents are selflessness, generosity, calming, grounding and new beginnings. There are a bunch of things that demon Belphie has here that works for his demon counterpart as the angel counterpart. 

If one were to get into a pact with the angel Belphegor, there is a level of harmless mischief that still tags along with him. Though he is a guardian angel in training. Being the youngest when it comes to power, there is sense of playful rebellion, always trying to find a way to have Lucifer to break character. Honestly, not much changes? Though compared to his brothers, he finds this strong sense of need to protect his human that’s holding a pact with him. Though if something deeply troubling happens to his human, he’s there as a comfort. He is there to comfort them and make sure they’re alright, generally taking on a more mellow tone and being the voice of reason - much like Satan. 

Like I said, Zeal does not fit Belphie all that much, but trust me - when I say MC will be protected with him. 

[sierraraeck]

Break (Pt.1)

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: As the situation for Spencer in prison continues to get worse, Aundreya has to come up with something to save him and fast. Story fourteen.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mentions of drugs and homicide. Sexualized comments.

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: Just a reminder that I don’t actually know how prisons work.

All bad things happen at 3am.

I am convinced.

If you can get to 4am, you are in the clear, but until then, 3am is coming to bite you in the ass.

The last time I got a call at 3am, it was to inform me that Derek’s cousin was missing and we had to save her.

This time, it was to let me know that Spencer was in critical condition in the prison infirmary.

I was the first one at the office other than Hotch who made the calls. The rest of the team wasn’t too far behind me, all walking in with the utmost sense of urgency.

Except for Derek.

Who was pissed.

“I thought you said that those things were going to help him!” he spat in my direction. Derek, Aaron, and I had kept our promise on not telling the rest of the team how bad of a condition Spencer was in, and I didn’t let either of them in on my plan with the chains and fake backstory until Derek figured it out and told Aaron.

The rest of the team stopped in their tracks to try and understand what he was talking about. “Yes, they were supposed to and they have for weeks,” I replied, attempting to stay calm.

“That’s not good enough. Instead of protecting him, you put a target on his back,” he accused.

“Woah, calm down-” Prentiss tried.

“I am not going to calm down! Reid got stabbed, Emily. He almost died! And it’s because of her,” he said, turning his fiery gaze on me again.

“That is not fair,” I dropped my voice almost to a whisper and my nostrils were flaring.

“Oh really? Because I think that those guys wouldn’t have made an elaborate plan to kill him if he’d just kept his head down. Those bracelets of yours drew attention to him and they probably hurt him only to get back at you for whatever the hell you did to them,” he said. His voice was cold and dry, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. If Spencer would have been better off without me altogether. The answer had to be yes.

I was thankful for Emily’s persistence to understand because she saved me from having to respond. “What are you talking about?”

“Chambers here went to visit Reid. She gave him those bracelets and rings of hers that identify her as The Figure, or the gang-slash-ring leader or whatever. She told him to wear them and to ‘drop the innocent act’ and to tell other inmates that he was associated with her. Look where that got him.”

“It’s not her fault, Morgan. That could have happened to him either way, and it could have happened sooner had he not had those with him,” Prentiss tried. She was one of the best people who could get through to Morgan, but this time, it didn’t seem to be working.

“Or it could have not happened at all. I guess we’ll never know considering she continues to make decisions about his safety without input from the rest of us,” he hissed.

“You’re right, we won’t know,” Hotch said, emerging from his office. “All we have now is that it happened and we have to move on and try to do what’s best for him. Which includes working together to solve this case and get his name cleared. Understand?”

Derek sent one more dagger through me with his eyes before looking up at Hotch, “Yes.”

“Chambers?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Rossi is on his way to visit Reid and update us along the way. The rest of us need to look harder at this case,” Hotch said.

We all headed up to meet him in the briefing room and Prentiss quickly caught up to me. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Don’t let him make you feel bad about it. You were just trying to help.”

“Thanks Emily, but he’s right. I wasn’t being helpful,” I let out a small sigh and shook my head, “and it never seems like I am.”

With that, we entered the room and got to work.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“So all we have is Reid talking to Corbyn Young, a kid who was a part of Aundreya’s ring who ended up dead only hours after Reid talked to him because he thought Corbyn was stalking him, and a sketchy message from someone who she’s pissed off?” JJ confirmed, gesturing my way.

Morgan scoffed under his breath, “Yeah, that really narrows it down.” I didn’t even bother to glare at him.

“Chambers, can you think of anyone in particular that would do something this intricate?” Hotch asked.

“Yes. Like half of the people from my past,” I said, confirming what Morgan stated. Hotch sighed.

“We’ve been going over all of this and looking into more angles for weeks and we are no closer to getting him out that we were when we started,” JJ huffed.

“This sonuvabitch is thorough,” Morgan said.

I sat there going over every single person I thought was capable of doing this, hoping I could think of anyone other than who I’d already suspected.

My train of thought was interrupted by a phone ringing.

“Yes?” Hotch answered. There was a mumbling on the other line before Hotch paused and said, “He’s going to be fine. He just woke up.” A collective sight spread throughout the room. “Yeah… Are you sure?... Anything else we need to know?... What do you think?... Sure… Yes, that is true… I’ll let her know. Thanks Dave.” With that, he hung up and turned to look at me. “He wants to see you.”

“What?” Derek, JJ and I all blurted at the same time.

Hotch and Prentiss exchanged an unreadable look.

“Head down there. We will continue without you,” is all he told me. I nodded, and quickly scanned the reactions around me. Confusion, disgust, betrayal, concern. A mixture of some or all of those.

But there wasn’t much time to think through it. I just left the remaining five of them to their work and headed for the prison.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“Hey Doctor Genius,” I said as I slipped into the infirmary. Rossi was sitting in a chair next to him.

“Hey,” he said, sitting further up.

“I thought we agreed that this wouldn’t happen again,” I playfully scolded. He quirked one side of his mouth up.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to keep showing up to help me,” he said. It was meant to be a joke, and I knew that the time he got shot wasn’t what he was trying to get at, but it was all I could think about when he said ‘help me.’ I vividly remembered what happened the last time I offered to help him.

But I played along. “Maybe I should start charging.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Rossi accused. I let a small laugh escape my lips as Rossi got up to leave. “I’ll be back.”

Once he left, I occupied the seat he’d just vacated. “Darrell?”

“Yeah.”

“And his two friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

Instead of answering, he exposed his stomach to me. There were two wounds with stitches through them. One was just to the left of his belly button and the other was just above it, forming a line about two inches long. If I had to guess, the scar ended right where his ribs started.

“They compliment your other one,” I commented.

“Thanks,” he said, covering himself back up.

We sat in silence for a while before the question I’d had for almost two months starting nagging at the back of my mind. I wanted to wait for the right time to ask, but I really didn’t think that would ever come. So I just went for it.

“How was your date with Maeve?”

He was thrown for a loop. His eyes got wide and he furrowed his brow. Clearly this was not the question he was expecting. “It was fine.”

“Fine? That’s all?” I gave him an encouraging smile.

“I showed up, she almost got all the way to the restaurant when I thought I saw her stalker.”

“Her stalker?” I was astonished. He’d never mentioned this before.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s why we didn’t plan to meet sooner and why I have to call her on payphones. It’s because she has a stalker,” he tried to sound matter-of-fact, but I detected the disappointment behind the statements.

“Oh Spence,” I said. His nickname just slipped out and he noticed, but I kept going. “I’m so sorry. What made her wanna meet, then?”

“She thought they were gone. She thought she was in the clear, but when I showed up, there was a man who just kept looking over at me and I got worried and called it off.”

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.

“Me too,” he said, dropping his gaze.

“Is there anything I can do?” I offered. It was a long shot, but I figured I might as well put it out there.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that you haven’t been able to contact her for weeks, and she’s got to be worried. If I can call or check up on her…” I trailed off, not really knowing what I’d do. I was hoping he had an idea.

“Um, I don’t know. I don’t want her to know about … this,” he said.

“I understand that. I can leave that part out and just assure her you’re okay and that you didn’t just fall off of the face of the Earth,” I suggested.

“Yeah. I guess. I just don’t know how she’d feel about me giving her number to someone else, you know?”

It was a valid point and I could tell he was conflicted. “It’s up to you. I will do whatever you want.”

He sat there pondering before answering, “No. As much as I don’t want her to worry, I won’t risk her safety.”

“Okay. That’s a good choice,” I said, granted, I would have agreed with his decision either way.

“Do you guys have anything?” he asked.

I tried to ignore how desperate his eyes were when I replied, “We’re working on it.”

“Okay.”

“But I have a plan,” I said. His eyes snapped right back to mine. “Please, just hold on for a little bit longer.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to get you out of here,” I whispered.

Realization struck his eyes. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

“Of course it is. I will be in and out,” I promised.

“You could get caught,” he pleaded.

“I won’t. They didn’t catch me the first time, they won’t catch us the second time.”

“Us?” his level of concern was on the rise.

“I’ve got a round trip ticket and you’ve got a one-way out.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“It’s the best one we have.”

“There’s got to be a better way,” he breathed.

“I’m not sure there is. And I’d rather have us both be on the run than leave you in here and have you end up dead, knowing I could have done something more.” He had nothing to say to that, so I finished with, “One of those situations you can get out of, the other one you can’t. Buying you, and the team, more time to clear your name is the best case scenario.”

I saw his eyes flick towards the door and I turned around to see Rossi approaching.

I rushed, “Don’t worry about it. Just keep yourself in here and in solitary as long as you can. I’m coming to get you.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I signed myself up to go back to my least favorite place on Earth.

Prison.

The problem was, that if I was going to break him out, I very well couldn’t do it as a visitor. I would have to become a bit more involved. As much as I didn’t want to, being an inmate again was going to be the easiest way in and out.

That being siad, I had to do something that would warrant me going to prison, without being something super extreme like murder. White collar crimes would take too long to set up, so I was thinking theft? Vandalism? Destruction of private property? Trespassing? Drug dealing?

While those were all viable options, I had one that seemed even better. Or maybe worse. But definitely quicker, more effective, and immediately on hand.

Assaulting an FBI agent.

Granted, I was an FBI agent, so it might seem more like a workplace quarrel, but I went into it with a Plan A, a Plan B, and of course a Plan C.

I arrived back at the office, but waited in the parking lot for my text to be delivered.

It only took a couple of minutes before Derek Morgan was exiting the building, approaching me at a rapid pace.

“I got your text, what’s up?”

“Hit me.” It was a simple command but one that obviously didn’t make sense to him.

“What?” Derek’s eyes got wide.

“Hit me!” I said louder, as if my volume change would help him understand. When he continued to look at me dumbfoundedly, I blew an irritated breath out of my nose, then hit him right in his perfectly chiseled jaw. It kinda hurt. “I said hit me!”

As he recovered, he turned around and tossed a fist at my head, which I easily ducked under. I was honestly surprised he was willing to come at me after only one punch, but I guess his anger and disgust for getting his younger brother hurt overpowered his usually clean conscience. That, or my commanding and urgent tone really convinced him to do what I asked. Potentially both.

“Oh come on, Derek,” I taunted, “That can’t possibly be your best.”

He wiggled his jaw, but took a step back. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I am not going to do this.” I guess he’s stronger than I thought.

He turned to walk away, but I came up behind him and swept his legs out from under him. He landed on his ass and had the wind knocked out of him.

“The first rule of fighting is to never turn your back to your opponent,” I said with a condescending tone. I gave him room to stand up, which he quickly utilized, turning to face me.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked me. It’s as if the asphalt stripped him of his anger in addition to his breath.

“Because I figured I’d have the most fun kicking your ass,” I replied. I went in for my second strike and he moved out of the way, catching my fist in his. I pivoted away and elbowed him in the ribs with my free arm.

I don’t want to hurt you too badly, I thought, but I need to fuel you enough so you’ll fight back.

He grunted but tossed me away from him, putting his foot out in the process causing me to trip. The sting of the pavement left nice tears in my pants right over my already bleeding knees.

“No need to hold back, Derek,” I grumbled, “I thought I already warned all of you to never go easy on me.” He could have hit me with no problem, but he opted to trip me instead. I couldn’t have any of that if my plan was going to be successful.

“Why are you doing this?” he repeated.

I pushed off from my hands so I was standing, brushing the little rocks out of my palms and raised my eyebrows, “I deserve it, don’t I?”

I didn’t give him time to answer because I went in for a kick. I made contact with his shoulder which made him stumble backwards.

“Huh?” was all he could manage.

I went in for another kick, aimed at his right shoulder this time, and only barely made contact before he grabbed my ankle with his strong hands. He held me firmly where I was, and I almost wanted to smile at the opportunity. It was a move I had mastered, but hadn’t performed in a long time. I pushed off of my other leg, springing into the air and completing a 360 turn. Usually, I’d kick the other person in the face as I went, but I didn’t want to do too much damage to Derek. That wasn’t my main goal. Instead, I kicked over his head, but the movement was strong enough to break his grip on my other ankle. I landed one foot after the other, returning to a typical fighting stance and read the look of astonishment in his eyes.

I persisted, “I mean, I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I’m no better than the murderers we hunt. I’ve been manipulating all of you, getting you to trust me for my own benefit, and look how that’s ended up. Some kind of profilers you guys are, letting a grade A criminal join your unit, then letting her rip you apart right under your noses. I’ve caused nothing but trouble for all of you since the day I joined. I almost got your best friend killed. Can you imagine that? Being shoved against the wall, the blade dripping with his blood. Slowly bleeding out on the floor of his dark cell, wondering if he was gonna die alone in a place he didn’t belong, having that be his lasting legacy. I mean, I was the only reason they targeted him. You said it yourself. I’m the reason he’s in prison in the first place,” I said deliberately, making sure to emphasize each word, letting the weight behind them sink in. I could feel him winding up and it brought a curl to my lips. If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was act deranged and sound enticed by the idea of Spencer’s blood on the floor, hoping it would be enough.

And it was.

I saw his foot shift forward an inch or two before his fist followed. This time, I let him hit me.

My head snapped to the far right. It was a dizzying feeling, and it almost forced me off my feet.

I cackled as I turned to look at him, bringing the back of my hand to my mouth to wipe the sticky blood from my lips. The sight and smell, the whole atmosphere of fighting, brought back memories of my worst days, but honestly some of my proudest moments. I hated myself for it, but I meant it when I said, “I forgot how exhilarating this is.”

The look on his face was one I’d only ever seen him wear when staring down an unsub. I reveled in the fact that not only was my plan working, it was working perfectly. I decided I’d rip that disgusted look of his face, going in for a punch I knew he’d dodge, instead making contact with my knee at the base of his throat. I heard him cough and bring a hand to his neck, but by now, I had his adrenaline pumping. He brought his other fist up and made full contact with the center of my stomach before following it up with a strike to my face.

We were both clutching at our most recent sore spots, my eye socket throbbing, preparing for the next blow when the doors behind me blew open.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Hotch hollered.

I turned to look at him, and realized that the entire team had followed. I glanced above their heads and noticed the camera there. Garcia must’ve been watching. I accounted that they’d get us on camera, noting that I initiated it and he resisted, but I didn’t anticipate having a live audience.

Before either of us could answer, Derek came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, attempting to restrain me.

“First rule of fighting: never turn your back on your opponent.”

“Second rule: make sure you have the proper grip.” I clasped my hands together and brought both of my elbows down into his ribcage, then shot my hands up into his face. It pushed his weight slight backwards, and while he still had a pretty good hold on me, it faltered only for a second. But that was all the time I needed.

I pushed my arms against his while forcing my spine into his chest. It created even more wiggle room, enough that I could turn and face him. He grabbed my wrists, and I wrapped my hands around his in return. I tossed my whole body weight towards the ground while driving my heel into his shin, forcing his weight toward me. Before he could land on top of me though, I put my other foot up, centered on his torso, and flipped him clean over me. It was the second time I knocked the wind out of him, and I kipped-up to standing.

I could have easily kicked the shit out of him at this point, but the look of horror on sweet Penelope’s face stopped me from completely losing myself. Had I not looked away, I wouldn’t have been able to follow through on my plan. My plan to save Spencer. That’s what I was repeating over and over in my head, convincing myself this was the right thing to be doing.

I planted a single foot on top of his chest, and looked down at him.

“Why are you doing this?” he pleaded, but this time it was different. He was no longer asking me why, he knew why, he was now asking me why I thought this was the best solution.

“I have to.” It was the best, and really the only, explanation I had.

I heard Hotch approach us and I turned to him, drawing my gun.

He halted in his tracks, and Rossi and the ladies behind him gasped.

“Aundreya, what are you doing?”

“Cuff me.” It was a similar command to the one I gave to Derek only minutes earlier.

“You want me to cuff you?” Aaron confirmed.

I fired into the air, then tossed my gun toward him, watching it slide on the ground with a screech before being stopped by his rubber soles.

“It’s protocol. I’ve assaulted an FBI agent and I pulled my gun on you, even firing off a shot. Cuff me.”

He slowly continued his path to me, all the while pulling his cuffs from his pocket.

Derek stood up and helped restrain me as Hotch linked the cuffs behind me. He ushered me by the frozen agents, and it was like I could see the gears spinning in their heads.

Once he got me through the entry doors, he whispered, “There was a better way. We were going to solve it.”

I knew I could count on him to put it together that quickly. He always did do the best job reading me. “You still have to. This is only a temporary solution.”

“Why?”

I was getting really tired of that question. If I never heard it again it would be too soon.

Other security guards were rushing down to detain me and move me to a temporary jail before transferring me to a prison. I quickly said under my breath, “If I don’t, he’s going to be dead before the end of the week. Then we will never save him. Do me one favor, and get me transferred to the same prison.”

He nodded as he handed me off to a bunch of guards in white uniforms. I gave him one single nod before turning away, awaiting my new cell; my new home.

Part 2

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@justanothetfangirl

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[master-sass-blast]

Price Well Worth Paying.

THIS IS IT, FOLKS!!! IT’S WEDDING TIME!!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!!

Summary: Before he can marry you, Piotr must undergo a vykup nevesty to prove his worthiness. Will he be up to the task?

(The answer is yes.)

Rating: G for MAXIMUM FLUFF!!!

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Set after “Of House and Home.”

This fic was inspired by @nebulous-leo‘s own Piotr x Reader vykup nevesty fic, “Ransom”!!! Y’all should absolutely check it out, in addition to her blog @leo-writer where she posts all her OC related content (which is absolutely delightful and wonderful and is the best thing on earth) and her Ao3 account, where she posts all the major works for said OC content; she currently has several works for Kurt from the Ant-Man movies and her OC, Jenna, on there; I can’t recommend reading them enough!!!

(Also, many thanks to @leo-writer for proofing this fic to make sure it wasn’t too matchy-matchy to her own fic!)

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @nebulous-leo

Piotr doesn’t often find himself nervous.

Some might doubt it, but it’s true. As rigid as he seems –and, admittedly, is—about some things, he seldom gets nervous. Frustrated, maybe, or tense, perhaps, but rarely downright, outright nervous.

He supposes, though, that the sensation coursing through him right now isn’t nervousness, precisely. Giddiness would be a better way to describe the butterflies thrumming in his stomach, how he has to keep himself from smiling nonstop so his cheeks don’t start hurting, and the way delighted, slightly nervous giggles keep bubbling up in his throat.

He’s getting married. Today. He’s getting married to you today, after so many obstacles and setbacks and arguments and makeups and planning and scheduling—

It’s here. It’s time.

Save for one last thing, which Piotr had wanted and then his family had borderline insisted –as much as they insisted on things—on doing: a vykup nevesty.

A vykup nevesty, as Piotr’s father had described it to him when he was very young, was for the family’s entertainment at its core. The groom would provide a payment for the bride –money or jewelry were traditional—and then the family would bring out a different man or a woman dressed as the bride to try and trick the groom. Once the groom realized that the person in question wasn’t his beloved, he would ask for his bride again and provide a higher payment for his spouse-to-be before he was finally bequeathed his bride, thus allowing the ceremony to start. Over time, the process had expanded to include various riddles, dares, and other shenanigans in the ransom process, and generally amounted to a great deal of fun.

He knows you helped write questions and answers for a “trivia” portion of the vykup nevesty. He also knows that he’ll have to deal with Mikhail’s dramatics –which normally would be nothing short of headache inducing, but between his elation over the fact that it’s his wedding day and the generous wad of cash tucked in his pocket, Piotr’s feeling borderline unstoppable.

He gives himself one final glance over in the mirror –he’d spent the night at the house your two’s friends and family had chipped in on—to make sure that his suit and tie are in good order –Nikolai had ushered everyone out at his son’s request so he could have a moment to himself just to think and process—before heading downstairs and out the front door—

And nearly walks smack into Mikhail and Ellie.

“Good morning, baby brother!” Mikhail chirps in Russian, grinning broadly. “Are you ready for the challenge of a lifetime?”

“I grew up with you; I doubt this will be worse than that,” Piotr fires back, feeling a twinge of misgiving at the slight grimace that creases his older brother’s face. Switching to English, he says, “I take it you two are here for vykup nevesty.”

“Yep,” Ellie confirms, popping the ‘p.’ “There’s gonna be three stages to this. You ready?”

He rolls his shoulders, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. “I am ready.”

“Excellent. Before we get started—” Mikhail produces an empty plastic coffee grounds container –which, upon closer inspection, has a label taped to it that says ‘motorcycle repair fund’—and wiggles it expectantly. “A little donation, if you please.”

Piotr refrains from rolling his eyes as he extracts his wallet from his inner jacket pocket, then drops about forty dollars in the container.

“Alright, first question,” Ellie says, casting a glance at her phone screen before looking back up at her mentor. “What is the most commonly recurring, non-serious argument in your relationship?”

Piotr blinks, borderline shocked. “What?”

“What do you guys play-argue about the most?”

“I understood that, just… she put that down as question?”

“She told you she was making these hard, right?”

“She did, she did,” Piotr says, grinning to himself as he rubs thoughtfully at his chin. “I just thought there might be progression of difficulty.”

“Eh, they’re all about this difficult.”

“Bozhe moi.” He quirks his mouth to the side as he thinks; you’re particularly cantankerous on your best of days –some might even say your best days, period—and while he’s learned to just go with some of it, there’s also so much the two of you playfully banter about…

“Tick, tick, tick, tick,” Mikhail says after about half a minute of silence, grinning like the cat that got the canary.

Piotr casts a dull glare at him. “Quiet. I am thinking.”

“Time is off the essence, baby brother! You would not want some dashing rogue to swoop in and sweep your bride away, no?”

Piotr ignores his brother’s dramatics –though he does roll his eyes—and gets down to thinking. Okay. Play fight means it is not serious enough to cause problems, but still something we are different on… “Food,” he says finally. “We argue about what foods should be eaten and not.”

“Correct,” Ellie says, scrolling further down on her phone. “Okay, next question—”

“Least favorite bad habit,” Mikhail says, reading over Ellie’s shoulder.

“Which bad habit of yours is Y/N’s least favorite,” Ellie clarifies.

Piotr snorts and shakes his head. “O, chudesno. Ah…” His voice trails off as his mind works, running through a mental list of various possible habits of his that probably drive you up a wall.

‘Being controlling’ hits him first, but something feels off about it; while, in all likelihood, it’s the most accurate, he doesn’t think you’d pull out something that had been a contributor to so many bad fights the two of you have had on such a special day –or wave that in front of Mikhail’s nose as possible teasing material, either.

‘Rules happy’ also fits that category, along with ‘too serious’…

Habit, Piotr, he tells himself when Mikhail starts mimicking a clock again. Not character flaw. Habit. Think smaller. “Workaholic. Or having to put everything away between tasks.”

“You have to pick one,” Ellie says while Mikhail starts ‘tick-tock-ing” louder.

Piotr mulls it over, then eliminates ‘workaholic’ since it fits closer to a character flaw –for him, at least—than it does a bad habit. “Having to put everything away between tasks.”

“Correct,” Ellie says. “Next question: mutual favorite nighttime activity.”

Mikhail lets out a raucous whistle and waggles his eyebrows at Piotr. “Damn, baby brother, are you into nasty shit I didn’t even know about? What, do you—”

“I do speak Russian; please stop,” Ellie says, completely monotone, while staring at her phone screen.

Mikhail cuts himself off with a grimace and a muttered “sorry.”

Piotr lets out a heavy sigh and rubs at his eyes; he suspects you slid that question in there just for that kind of reaction.

He’ll just have to pay you back for it later.

The thought makes him smile a little, but he quickly pushes it down and gets to thinking before Mikhail can start making clock noise again –or, worse, ask why he’s smiling. Mutual favorite nighttime activity…

Sex is an entirely feasible answer. Plausible, even. The two of you both enjoy sex, and he doesn’t doubt for a moment that you’d put that answer in there just to embarrass him a little…

Except it seems just a hair off. While you’d definitely take the opportunity to rib him a little, he knows you wouldn’t put Ellie in such an awkward position –or whoever else wound up reading the questions out.

“Snuggling,” he decides, which gets an annoyed groan from Mikhail. “Each night, we try to take time to just snuggle and talk about our days.”

“Correct.”

Mikhail rolls his eyes. “That is stupidly vanilla.”

“No one asked you,” Piotr mutters, letting some of his annoyance show through.

“Next question,” Ellie interjects before an argument can break out between the two brothers. “What is Y/N’s biggest pet peeve?”

“Scott Summers,” Piotr fires off automatically.

Ellie snorts and claps a hand over her mouth. “Okay, that’s technically wrong, but I’m counting it because she’ll like that you answered that.”

“I think I am missing something,” Mikhail says, glancing between Piotr and Ellie.

“He’s a douche and Y/N doesn’t like him,” Ellie supplies quickly. “Also I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on his girlfriend.”

“No!”

“Yeah. And she’s a telepath.”

Mikhail smirks. “So, he is idiot, too.”

“Basically.”

“Be nice, NTW,” Piotr admonishes his trainee, even though the corner of his mouth is turning up in a smile. “What did Y/N have for original answer?”

“Slow walkers,” Ellie says—

Which makes him snort because of course.

“Alright, last question: who is Y/N closest to in her family?”

A contemplative frown tugs at his lips as he flips through his mental rolodex of who you consider family.

Wade and Nate immediately spring to the top of the list. You connected with Wade first, but you view Nate as a father –and, granted, you’re close to Russell and Ellie and Yukio and Neena and countless other members of the Institute, but Wade and Nate are definitely closest to you. They know more of your darkest secrets, at least.

He mentally derails when he remembers your uncle and factors him in, and then it becomes a game of mental shuffles as he switches from Wade to Nate to your uncle and then back through again, over and over, until Ellie starts pointedly looking at the time display on her phone and Mikhail starts acting like he’s falling asleep on his feet. “Nate. She’s closest to Nate.”

“Wrong answer,” Ellie says. “You have to pay up for that one.”

Piotr frowns while he fishes a few bills out of his wallet and drops them in Mikhail’s plastic container. “What was right answer?”

“You. She said she’s closest to you.”

He blinks –and then smiles, because of course the two of you are family. You’ve been family to each other for a long time, and after today you’ll legally be family as husband and wife.

“Alright,” Ellie says. “That’s it for round one. Ready for round two?”

“Absolutely,” Piotr says, completely confident. He’s never been more ready for anything in his life.

***

 They take the path that connects your two’s new home to the rest of Xavier’s property and stroll across the back lawn to where everything’s been set up –well, Piotr and Ellie stroll. Mikhail insists on teleporting himself every few feet because “walking is for fools.”

Once the chairs and the guests and the wedding party and all the decorations come into view, Piotr’s pulse skyrockets and his splits into a massive grin. Seeing everything and everyone there, even though the rehearsal had been last night and he’d helped set everything up, makes it all more real.

And then he sees a woman in a white dress and veil standing adjacent to Charles at the altar, and it takes all his willpower not to sprint the remaining distance between him and the ceremony site.

Mikhail stops him before they reach the little tent where Charles and the wedding party and the woman in white are set up and waggles the “motorcycle repair fund” jar in his face once more. “I’m afraid there’s a toll to pay before you can enter, baby brother.”

Piotr shells out a few more twenty dollar bills –then mouths a silent “thank you” over Mikhail’s head when their mother prevents the eldest Rasputin from asking for more via making a stern, mildly disapproving noise in the back of her throat.

“Alright!” Mikhail says, gesturing grandly towards the altar. “Toll has been paid! Piotr, you may have your bride!”

He steps under the cover of the tent –and has to stop to remind himself that this is likely a trick, if the rules of the vykup nevesty are anything to go by.

Correction: it’s definitely a trick. First, the height and size of the woman are all wrong. Second, she’s clearly wearing a purple colored dress underneath the white dress –which, on closer inspection, isn’t a wedding dress but some white bedsheets sewn together. Third, the “veil” over her face is a deconstructed pillowcase with lace hot-glued to the edge. Fourth, the “bride” is laughing, as are several members of the wedding party and the crowd of guests.

“This is not Y/N,” Piotr says, turning back to face Mikhail and Ellie.

“What? How can you not recognize your own beloved!” Mikhail exclaims –overly dramatic, which further reinforces that the woman standing in front of him is not his bride. “Have you been drinking, Piotr? Are you drunk?”

“This is not Y/N,” Piotr repeats as a few more chuckles go up in the crowd. He quickly scans the guests and wedding party, and manages to deduce who’s under the veil based on who’s missing and the relative height and size of the white-clad woman. “Kitty, thank you very much for coming, but I would like to marry Y/N today.”

“Damn!” Kitty laughs and whips off her “veil,” tossing aside while everyone else chuckles and claps. “That was fast!”

Piotr shrugs. “Not hard to tell when you are missing from crowd.”

“Touché.” Kitty phases out from under her makeshift white dress, then smooths out the purple cocktail dress she’d worn underneath before offering Piotr a fist bump. “Congratulations, dude.”

He fist bumps her back, corner of his mouth turning up in a smile—

Then is immediately accosted by Wade as Kitty goes to sit down in the crowd.

“Alright, Google Chrome’s Russian Cousin, how’re you feeling?” Wade asks, microphone in hand –who thought that was good idea?—and clad in a dress that matches the bridesmaids but has been tailored for a man’s body and genuinely looks flattering on him. “Ready for the last part of your however you say it?”

“Very ready,” Piotr says enthusiastically. “I have been ready for long time.”

“Aw, that’s so adorable. Unfortunately, before we can start the final phase, I think your broski over there needs some more dough for his repair fund.”

Piotr shells out the last of the money he’d set aside for the vykup nevesty –it’s not like he’ll be needing it for later, at this point—and drops into Mikhail’s container, then turns back to Wade. “Alright, what is last phase?”

“Well, as the older brother in every way but biological to your future wifey,” Wade says with theatrical seriousness. “I do need to make sure that you’re of suitable marriage material before the ceremony starts. Can’t have my little sis shacking up with a slouch.”

Piotr rolls his eyes good naturedly. “You have known me for several years. And you have been around entire time Y/N and I were dating.”

“Hush, metal grasshopper, this is my moment,” Wade says as he pulls a piece of paper out of the bust portion of his dress. “So, just to make sure that you meet the mark, I’ve drummed up a few eensy-teensy questions to ask.”

Piotr grins and shakes his head; he’s not getting out of this, so there’s no point in being upset about anything. “Very well. Ask your questions.”

“Thank you. Question one: what makes you think you’re worthy to marry my sister?”

Piotr chokes, more out of shock than anything. “What kind of question is that?”

“The one I’m asking, Chrome Dome. Which means you have to answer it. Start talking, we’ve got a list to get through,” Wade says, angling his microphone at Piotr.

Piotr nudges Wade’s hand back so the microphone isn’t right in his face, then considers the question for a few second before answering. “Because she chose me. Marriage is many things, but at core it is choice to commit to living life with partner and work through whatever hardships and challenges arise as team. It is choice to keep loving and communicating. I could be exactly who I am, but if Y/N did not choose me, I would not be worthy. But she did choose me, which is what makes me worthy.”

“Ooh, going from the consent angle! Wade like-y!” Wade says a few guests nod, impressed.

Off to the side, Nikolai beams like the proud papa he is and Alex shoots her youngest son a thumbs up.

“Alright, you pass the first question. Second question: if three mini-lion robots broke into your house and formed into a super-lion robot, what would you do to protect your lady from any and all harm?”

“Anything I had to,” Piotr answers automatically.

Wade mimics a buzzer noise. “Lame answer. Cop out.”

“It is truth,” Piotr insists. “No one ever really knows what they would do in moment until they are there. I will not commit to idea I may not follow through on in moment because my instincts might wind up being different. What I do know, however, is that I will do whatever I have to in order to keep Y/N safe, and that will not change regardless of what moment faces me.”

Wade studies him for a moment, then nods slowly. “Alright. I’ll take that. Next question!”

“How many questions are there?” Piotr asks, trying to catch a glimpse of the paper.

“As many as I need,” Wade says angling the paper away from Piotr’s line of sight. “Okay, big question here: what do you love most about my sister?”

“Everything,” Piotr says earnestly, tone dreamy and lovestruck. “She… she is everything to me. She helps me step back and appreciate day to day. She makes me laugh and smile –and over things I never thought I would, which has been… interesting.” He chuckles along with everyone else. “She has helped me grow so much as person, and challenges me on how I think and act and do things… She is beautiful, and kind, and smart, and funny, and I am so lucky that I get to marry her.”

Several “awws” go up in the crowd, and more than a few people dab at their eyes with tissues or hankies.

Wade, however, lets out a dramatic sob and blows his nose noisily into a lace edged handkerchief. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry!”

Piotr merely smiles and shakes his head.

“Alright, big guy. Now that you’ve made everyone here cry, you ready to get married?”

“Yes,” Piotr says eagerly, excitement coiling in his stomach once more. “More than.” He feels someone tap on his shoulder, and he turns, expecting to see Mikhail holding out the “repair fund” container in a last ditch attempt to get more money—

Except you’re standing behind him, dressed in your wedding gown and holding onto Nathan’s arm and beaming up at him like he’s the most important thing in the world. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Tears of joy well up in his eyes, and he presses his hand against his mouth to try and contain himself. “You look so beautiful.”

“You look very handsome yourself.” Your eyes sparkle as you gaze up at him. “Ready to do this thing?”

“Very ready,” Piotr says with an excited giggle.

Nathan hugs you and presses a fatherly kiss to your forehead before handing you off. “Take good care of her.”

“Always,” Piotr promises as he makes to help you over to your side of the altar.

You have other ideas, though, going in for a hug first.

Piotr wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head –careful not to mess up your hair—while the guests and wedding party make noises of delight and appreciation and Aiden and his team snap pictures.

Once the hug ends, he helps you get over to your side of the altar, then Wade takes your bouquet for you and helps you straighten out the skirt of your dress—

And then everything’s genuinely a blur. Charles makes a speech about the relationship as he’s witnessed it and the healthy love the two of you model for the students –which has both of you tearing up—before talking about the value of commitment and communication, you two exchange your vows and the rings, and then Charles pronounces the two of you as husband and wife, and then Piotr’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and—

It’s everything, as it always has been.

[iximaz]

Blood-Forged ch4

Summary: Din takes his young charge to a new planet with a new plan to hide. It quickly goes sideways after he meets another Mandalorian who has never seen her own kind.

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Baby Yoda, enby!fem!OC

Pairings: Slow burn Din Djarin/OC because it turns out I’m a thirsty hoe

Warnings: Eh, right now it’s just in light PG-13 territory. Mentions of family death, some blood/violence/bodily harm. Will probably end up becoming smut later.

Word Count: 2333 (indefinite chapter count coming)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (you’re here!) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Aysa’s apartment was small, but cozy. They had walked into what looked like the main room, a combined kitchen and living space stuffed full of squashy, mismatched, secondhand furniture. A door to a bedroom that had to be Aysa’s judging by the green-painted walls stood ajar at one end, while two doors that led to what Din could only assume were a bathroom and the building proper were shut tight. 

“You guys can take the bedroom,” Aysa said, pulling off her helmet and setting it on the dining table. “I imagine it’d be easier for you to sleep without your helmet.”

Din looked around and nodded. “Thank you. Though if the little one could sleep in here…?”

“Huh,” Aysa said, raising her eyebrows. “Even people who won’t remember your face can’t see it?”

Din shook his head. 

“Alright, then,” Aysa said. “I’ll keep an eye on him. He doesn’t cry or anything, does he?”

“Not often.”

“Good,” Aysa said. “Because I like being able to sleep.”

Almost on cue, Baby began to make little whimpering noises. Din swooped down in an instant, picking him up and bouncing him gently. “Got any broth?”

“Think so. Stock okay?”

Din nodded, and Aysa stripped off her gloves, going to the kitchen and pulling out a pot from the icebox. She put it on the stove to heat before glancing at Din. “What about you? No foods that your Way won’t let you eat or anything?”

Din shook his head, and Aysa turned on the oven before going back to the icebox. “Afraid I’ve only got leftovers,” she said, sliding a meat pie into the oven. 

“That’ll be fine,” Din said. He hovered by the table, studying Aysa’s helmet without touching it. 

Aysa glanced behind her. “You can pick it up if you like,” she said, though there was a faint hint of trepidation in her voice.

Din picked it up, treating it with the respect it deserved. “You’re very fortunate,” he said.

Aysa glanced up at him. “Hm?”

“Your mother’s beskar,” Din said. “I don’t know if the practice was the same in your clan, but in mine, it’s traditional for armor to be passed down between family members.”

“It was the same in mine,” Aysa said. She smiled a little ruefully. “Nobody to reforge my mom’s armor, though, so it stays like it is.”

“When we find my clan again, I’ll ask the armorer to reforge it for you, if you like,” Din offered. “I think she would be honored to do it.”

Aysa’s eyes stung with tears, and she nodded, hastily turning away so Din wouldn’t see her struggling not to cry.

He noticed, of course. He noticed lots of things, after all, but it was kinder to pretend he hadn’t. He turned the helmet over in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship. “Did it belong to anyone before her?” he asked.

Aysa shrugged. “I dunno,” she said, focusing too hard on stirring the stock pot. “Never really asked before it… happened.”

Din nodded. He inspected the interior, nodding in satisfaction when he saw the internal wiring was compatible. It looked much newer than the rest of the helmet, and he wondered if Aysa had done the work herself. The soldering work looked clumsy, which made him think so.

Still—not bad for someone without training.

“When the soldiers attacked,” Aysa began. She cleared her throat and swallowed back the growing lump. “Well—Mom took a blaster bolt meant for me. She shielded me with her own body, but it missed her armor.”

Din inspected the half a scorch mark on the bottom of Aysa’s back plate. So his suspicions had been correct.

“I had to play dead under her body when they ran past us,” Aysa said. She shivered. “We were separated from my dad. I never did find out what happened to him.”

Din set the helmet down abruptly, and Aysa startled, looking around at him.

“I lost my own parents in an Imperial raid,” Din said at long last. “They hid me in a bunker. I never saw them again.”

“I’m sorry.”

Din shook his head. “Don’t waste your breath apologizing for things that weren’t your fault,” he said. 

Aysa bit her lip, but nodded. 

“The Mandalorians saved me after that,” he continued. “They took me in as a Foundling—but they didn’t do the same for you.” He left his words to trail upwards, the barest hint of a question. He’d leave it up to her if she wanted to share.

“Scavengers,” Aysa said. “They helped me get the armor off Mom, packed it in a bag for me. Dropped me off at the next planet over with a couple of credits and the bag and nothing else.”

Din frowned, his shoulders tensing. “You were a child.”

Aysa nodded, not turning around. “The rest of the people who took me in, one after another—some were kind. Some weren’t. Doesn’t matter—I survived, and I managed to keep ahold of the armor, and that’s what does.”

Din studied her for a moment. He was hardly the type to go around dishing out compliments, and he wasn’t about to start now. All he said instead was “That’s good.” He tapped the helmet in an obvious change of topic. “If you’d like, I can wire your helmet’s coms up so we can keep in contact.”

Aysa glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. “I’d like that.” She stooped to pull out the meat pie and dished some of it into a bowl; she looked around and grabbed a cutting board, putting the bowl, a fork, a napkin, and a glass of fruity cider on the makeshift tray. “Here,” she said, carrying it over to Din.

He took the tray, then glanced over at Baby, who was sniffing curiously at Aysa’s curtains. “I should feed him first.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Aysa said. “I’m not the most maternal person, but I do know how to get a baby to eat.”

“But—“

Aysa nodded at the cutting board tray. “Your food will get cold. And you’ve gotta be starving,” she added, raising her eyebrows. “If it really makes you feel better, you can always snarf it.”

Din smiled, but gave no indication of it that she could see. “Thank you,” he said, and disappeared into her room.

Organized chaos was probably the best way to describe it. Din paused just after shutting the door behind him to take a look around; it was clear the clutter had a pattern to it. 

A row of alcohol bottles were lined up haphazardly on the windowsill, but their labels were all turned forward and they all had their matching lids or corks. The papers strewn on the desk were apparently sorted into teetering piles by category: bills, invoices, medical notes, bank information, insurance. 

Din tugged the curtains shut before he pulled his helmet off and set it on the floor, running his fingers through his tangled hair. It always felt good to smell that first breath of air that wasn’t filtered through his helmet.

Books were stacked in strategically precarious rows on an old shelf, some tomes crammed in sideways on top of other books. As Din ate, he cast a curious eye over the titles. Lots of planetary encyclopedia books, but a fair amount of novels, political analyses, books on economic theory, electronics wiring.

Sometimes he wished he had the space for a proper library on his ship, but books took up weight and space, both of which were valuable commodities on a ship. Besides, it was unnecessary when he could simply download all the books he could ever want to read straight to his datapad.

The meat pie was good, and hot enough to nearly burn his tongue as he quickly ate, then chased it down with a gulp of cider. 

Before he went back into the main room, he paused by the mirror to inspect his face. No new scars, but his hair and beard were starting to get scraggly. He’d need to trim them both soon.

Din grunted and put his helmet back on, retreating into the safety and anonymity it offered him. He picked up the tray and went back out, pausing and grinning when he saw Aysa sitting with the Womp-Rat at the table, coaxing him into eating one spoonful at a time.

“Here comes the TIE Fighter,” Aysa said, her voice noticeably higher-pitched and more sing-songy. “Open wide…”

The kid willingly opened his mouth for her to spoon in the broth, and he giggled and clapped his hands together after he’d swallowed.

Din was sure he hadn’t made any noise when he’d come in, but Aysa spoke without turning to look at him. “Food was alright?”

“It was. Thank you,” he said, setting the tray on the counter.

“Bet you don’t have many home-cooked meals on the ship,” Aysa said, and Din shook his head.

“It’s mostly ration bars,” he said. “There’s a galley, but it’s barely large enough to fit in even without my armor.”

“That does sound problematic,” Aysa said. “And you’re not a real big guy, either.”

Burg’s comment of “Tiny” came to mind, and Din rolled his eyes at the memory. “No,” he agreed neutrally.

“Hey, not saying that’s a bad thing,” Aysa said. “Means you need less beskar to be all armored up, for one. Right?”

Din grinned, knowing she’d be able to hear it in his voice. “I suppose.”

Aysa set the spoon down. “Are you smiling, Din?”

The sound of his name from unfamiliar lips was… strange. Not unpleasant, just unusual.

“I guess you’ll never know,” he said. “Go eat. I’ll finish here.” He pulled the bowl of broth towards him, beginning to coax the Womp-Rat into eating.

Aysa watched the pair for a moment, smiling. Her stomach growled, and she got up to help herself to a small serving of pie.

“So does Baby eat anything else yet, or just broth?” Aysa asked, sitting back down and digging into her food.

“Frogs,” Din replied, sounding slightly strained. “Preferably live.”

Aysa choked on her pie and began coughing. Without taking his eyes off the kid, Din reached over and thumped her squarely between the shoulders.

“Thanks,” Aysa gasped. “Frogs?”

“I’m trying to get him to stop,” Din said, reaching out to poke Baby on the nose. Baby scrunched his face up and leaned away, only to lean back when Din offered him another spoonful. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem to have killed him yet?” Aysa offered faintly.

“Yet,” Din muttered.

Aysa made a small noise of sympathy. She dumped her empty plate in the sink and headed back out to the speeder pad.

Din eyed the plate in the sink. She’d barely taken several mouthfuls of food. She wasn’t kidding about not eating well, but he wondered how much of that was by choice.

Aysa returned with the crates from the speeder bike and set them down just inside the door, beginning to unpack one of them. She glanced up at Din; he ignored her, so she figured she was okay to continue. With one crate empty, she disappeared briefly into her room, returning with a thick blanket that she used to line it. 

“Baby can sleep in here,” she said, and the kid’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice. “Settle him down whenever, but I’m tired.”

Din said nothing; Aysa shrugged and disappeared into her room, reemerging a few minutes later with a pillow and blanket under her arm. She was wearing nothing but a pair of thin sleeping trousers. Din glanced up and was suddenly quite glad she couldn’t see him staring.

He hadn’t been wrong: her chest really was boy-flat, distinctive white scars just under where her pectoral muscles curved. Surgical, unlike the other scars that lined her torso. Most of them were heavy burn scars like the one on her face, but a few on her arms and stomach where the armor didn’t cover looked like cuts or blaster hits. Not too dissimilar to his own.

She was lean and well-muscled as fit a mercenary, but thin enough he could count her ribs. He frowned. Muscled she might be, but there was no way that meant healthy. When she turned her back to him, his frown deepened. Parts of her spine—or maybe all of it—had been replaced, angry red skin growing up over the metal segments embedded in her back. It didn’t look like an old injury by any stretch of the imagination, especially judging by the twisting, ropy scar that stretched from shoulder to hip, cutting across her body.

He couldn’t imagine baring himself like that. It was the height of vulnerability, a complete lack of regard for one’s safety.

It was not the Way.

Not for him, he had to remind himself. For her, this must be normal. 

Or—and this thought drew him up short—she was acting like this because she trusted him. It made a certain amount of sense. He trusted her as well. Not fully—they had only just met—but there was a certain respect that went to fellow Mando’ade that would grow stronger with time. The differences between their clans were a footnote in that larger picture.

Aysa lay down on the lumpy sofa and rolled herself into her blanket until the only parts of her Din could see were her toes and the top of her head.

Baby whined at him insistently and he quickly refocused his attention on feeding the child. As soon as Baby let out a soft, contented belch, Din gathered him up and set him in the makeshift cot in the corner of the room. Baby looked like he wanted to hold on, but he yawned as he was set down, big eyes slowly closing before he’d been fully laid in the cot.

“G’night,” came Aysa’s muffled voice from the corner.

Din’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Good night.”