#this must have been either before they came outside for the panel

[silverfoxstole]

Sophie, Sylvester and Paul with the TARDIS at Portsmouth Comic Con this afternoon.

[racinginchid3nt]

I’d Probably Still Adore You | Eight

Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N x Lando Norris, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre

Gasly

In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new

Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: some smut, mostly in discussion/description. 18+

Previous | Next

————————————————————————

You spent the rest of Wednesday night relaxing in your hotel room. Starting to unpack and hanging your dress up for the event, your phone chimed.

When you checked it, it was Lando, replying to the text he had sent himself.

Smiling to yourself, you weren’t sure how you ended up with a date to tomorrow nights event but you figured if it had to be anyone at least he wasn’t a stranger. Besides Y/N Best Friend would be with Pierre, so you would have someone to talk to besides her.

————————————————————————

Thursday

Thursday morning went by quickly. You had opted to not attend media day. Pierre wasn’t on a panel and instead had individual interviews and team video shoots so there was no need to watch them.

You also took a few work calls, responding to some emails that came in throughout the day. While you had taken the day off, your boss only agreed if you were willing to participate in the two morning meetings. By midday, you were finally free to relax.

Stepping out of you room, you pushed the down button for the elevator. You’d skipped breakfast due to the time change but we’re starving and needed to pick up lunch.

As the doors opened, you saw a familiar face in the elevator.

“Hola Y/N. No sabiá que estabas aquí.” (I didn’t know you were here)

“Hola Carlos. It was kind of a last minute thing.”

“We’ll it’s great to see you. Are you going to the sponsor event tonight?”

“I am. Lando’s picking me up at 7:30.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” He laughingly replied.

Unsure of what he meant, you gave him a confused look.

“Lando told Oscar and I that he had a date last night. We wondered what poor soul he convinced and why he was so happy, but it makes sense that it would be you.”

“Oh uh yeah. We ran into each other last night and he asked.”

“Well I’ll see you tonight.” He replied, before stepping out of the elevator.

He made his way to the front desk, while you continued to the front doors. As you stepped outside you were greeted by a large crowd behind a barrier. Someone must have leaked the drivers hotel. As you pushed through the crowd to try and get to the small bistro you had seen on the way in last night, you were surprised to hear someone scream your name.

“Y/N! Can I get a picture?”

Unsure of what to do or why someone would want a picture with you, you turned and saw a fan in a Ferrari shirt waving at you. Confused you walked up and took a quick selfie. Was this because of that wag post a few weeks ago? You noticed a few other people taking photos of you as you chatted with the girl about the race weekend, before wrapping up and continuing on.

You placed your order to go from the bistro, heading back to the hotel to eat in your room and relax before you needed to get ready. As you sat down to eat and scroll through your phone, you got an Instagram notification that you were tagged in a photo.

Opening the app you saw that you had once again made the wag Instagram. It wasn’t your best picture, makeup free and hair undone, but you hadn’t expected anyone to care about you.

Is this what it’s always like for Y/N Best Friend you thought? You couldn’t escape the stupid wag pages and you weren’t even seeing anyone.

————

Lance sat in the car on the way back to the hotel from media day. The break had been nice, but he was ready to be back behind the wheel. Zandvort wasn’t his favorite track, but it certainly wasn’t his least favorite either.

As he sat in backseat of the car, driving the 30km or so back to the hotel, he thought back to the night before. When he arrived at the hotel from the airport, he had seen Y/N. After their hookup before the break, he had expected that to be the end of their interactions. He’d never seen her at a race before that week, so he figured he wouldn’t any time soon.

But to see her getting out of the car with Norris was a shock. While he hadn’t reached out to her after the hookup, she also hadn’t reached out to him. The last thing he expected though was for her to be dating someone already. It had to be serious if they had arrived together, but with less than a month for the break, he questioned how quickly that happened.

He had spent the next week replaying the night over in his mind. And every time a girl flirted with him on break, he couldn’t help but compare her to Y/N. Had she really thought so little of the night that she could move on immediately? During their game at the after party she had said she’d never slept with a driver. Sure Norris has mean’t the question about Pierre when he asked it, but that also mean’t she hadn’t slept with Lando either.

He knew first hand that there was a lot more to hookups besides sex. Just because she hadn’t fucked him didn’t mean she couldn’t have kissed him. Or sucked his dick. And as the thought of her getting on her knees for Norris crossed his mind, the tiniest hint of jealousy bleed through. He had missed out of the chance of that. Missed out on watching those big brown eyes look up at him while he fucked into her mouth. Missed out on watching her swallow down his cum.

He didn’t know much about Norris, but he seemed to have some charm. Lance had seen him leave the club with his fair share of women. What if he had the chance to eat her out? That thought sat even worse. He didn’t like the idea of someone else, much less another driver getting to see her like that. Recalling the look of her glazed over eyes when he tucked her in on the couch, he didn’t like the idea that he wasn’t the only one who had seen her like that.

He wasn’t typically a possessive man, but he also didn’t typically interact much with his occasional flings after the fact. He’d been single for awhile, hooking up here or there as he felt like it, girls aware of the situation, that it would be a one time thing. But for someone else to have made a move on what he viewed to have been his first didn’t sit right with him at all. He knew better then to confront either of them, he had no rights. But why was he upset about that?

Opening up Instagram for the first time in a week, he navigated to her profile. She had posted twice during the break, one a casual photo of her and some friends at dinner, the other a photo of her laying out at the beach. He tried to think back to where Norris had said he was spending the break. He said he was going somewhere warm, and he vaguely recalled an Instagram story of him on a jet ski. Had she gone with him?

Flipping through her story she had only two posts up. One of a photo outside the plane window, showing the dark runway at the Amsterdam airport, and one of what he presumed was her lunch from earlier. Neither of those were helpful in the slightest. He’d already started to edge towards creeper territory, so he might as well take it further.

Navigating to her tagged photos, he saw a new one from earlier that day. It showed a zoomed in photo of her on her phone, hair up in one of those messy clips and in a casual outfit, she seemed to be walking down the street. Reading the caption, it confirmed what he already knew. She was staying at the same hotel as all of the drivers.

Esteban had complained earlier to him that his room was next to Pierre and his girlfriend. Apparently the two had been going at it 24/7 for the past few days. Which meant that she hadn’t flown in with them and wasn’t staying with them. So who was she staying with? He didn’t know what she did for work but highly doubted she had forked over the money for overpriced luxury hotel.

Pulling up to the hotel, he exited the car. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he thought about the upcoming sponsor event. He’d have to stop by for at least a few hours to socialize. It wasn’t really Fernando’s thing and someone had to represent the team well. At least they would serve dinner he thought to himself, the food was normally good at these things. As he headed up to his room, he ran through the rest of his weekend, analyzing what his engineer had told him earlier, all thoughts of Y/N leaving his head.

————————————————————————

A/N:

I really appreciate the support I’ve gotten on this story so far. If you guys could continue to like, comment, and reblog I would really appreciate it!

[moonaliisa]

🕯️ — what's the matter, love ?

SEVIKA X (FEMALE) READER

summary :

as sevika returned to your shared home after an exhausting day, she get to spend some intimate time with her girlfriend.

before later that night, she finally voice some of the thoughts that she has kept hiding inside her heart.

this story contains explicit sexual content ; fic, 10.700 words.

The deafening sound of the screams of the residents of the Undercity struggling to hear each other amid all the hubbub echoed the clicking sounds of Sevika's heavy boots crashing down hard on the ground. It was late, and at this hour, it was complicated to make your way without bumping into someone, everyone was outside haggling their latest finds against a few gold coins, or at least for the ones who were lucky enough to have something to trade.

The wide yet narrow alleys were lit by intensely bright neon lights that mixed with the smoke from the many smokers in the area. Despite the late hour, the apartments were all still lit, the Undercity is a place that never sleeps, that was for sure.

The air was heavy, the atmosphere that reigned here was heavy, the idea of being constantly judged, of being constantly observed by those who wonder what they could take from you. That's how everything works here now, if you have what they want without the ability to be able to protect that, then what's yours will be soon theirs.

Down here, you had to be able to organise yourself in the disorder, in the middle of a hurrying crowd that was not really convinced of going anywhere. As Sevika made his way through the crowd, some already drunk man accidentally spilled his entire glass filled with alcohol on the shirtless back of a man who was getting a tattoo in the middle of the street before he grabs him by the collar of his jacket and starts a fight. Sevika was shaking her head at the sight of this action and sighed softly, this place was something else.

She hastened to hurry at the idea of not being very far from her final destination. Now closer, Sevika took the usual cut-away shortcut through a darker alley than before. On the way she came across a man sitting on the ground, only dressed in tattered and ripped pants, he was skinny and looked extremely tired, dirty skin and hair falling over his face, all of his veins visible and all discernible by their purple colour, Shimmer.

The curled-up man gently stretches out his trembling hand in Sevika's direction. He didn't dare meet her gaze, probably due to the imposing build of the woman she was, or maybe just out of shame at the situation he found himself in. After a few seconds of standing there, not moving, Sevika looked both ways looking for any presence, and she thought of you.

She thought of you who would not hesitate for a moment to give something to this man, despite the fact that you already had so little to give. Plunging her hand into her pocket, she pulled out a small handful of coins, letting them fall gently into the palm of his hand. That's what you would have done, she thought. That's what you would have done, so it must be the right thing to do, the right thing she should do.

He didn't say anything, just nodded in gratitude and immediately returned to snuggle up against the wall he was against. She said nothing more either and continued on the way as she grabbed one of those cigars she always had on her. Pulling the golden lighter from her back pocket, she places it at her mouth, lighting the tip of it. Taking her first inhale of smoke, it came out of her nose as she exhaled, grabbing it between her two fingers before tilting her head back and exhaling a large cloud of smoke sliding from her lips and evaporating into the air.

And there she was. This familiar alley, this familiar damaged floor, these familiar dilapidated walls, this familiar old luminous panel which had obviously not been functional for a while, and finally, this so familiar door. There was something about that door, like an aura that soothed her at the mere sight of it, that door brought her peace, freed her from a weight deep in her chest, just like magic the awful weight that resided on her shoulders flew away as if had never been. Although the worry never really left Sevika’s mind, standing here marked the end of a day she couldn't see the end of.

From where she was, she was able to see the living room lights on, as much as she tried to hide it even though she was alone, that thought formed a warm yet discreet smile on her face. For such a long time, Sevika didn't think it would be possible for her to wear a smile like this, a real and honest smile, as if she had almost forgotten how to do it, as if her face was rusty.

Some time ago, the fear she would have felt to smile like that would certainly have turned into anger, she could not bear to allow herself what she thought she could never live, but now that she had finally resigned herself to accepting these initially unknown feelings, it just felt so right.

Pressing the doorknob, she pushed herself inside, gently closing the door behind as she stub out her cigarette outside before going in. Unhooking her long and heavy red cape from her shoulder, she hung it on the coat rack in front of her. A sense of deliverance surrounding her, a sense of being who she was inside those walls without feeling the need to hide behind fabrics, without ever having the feeling of being judged on anything, here, she was free.

After putting down her cape, she took off her heavy boots in the same impulse, knowing all to well about how obsessed you were with dirt, one of the things that made a big difference between this place and the streets in which she had just walked. Once again, Sevika smiled timidly. It didn't take long to hear the sound of your footsteps hitting with speed and joy the ground towards her.

Arriving at her level, you grabbed her face in your hands, gently stroking her cheek with the tip of your thumb. Sevika took the opportunity to bend down and stick her forehead to yours. Both of you remaining in this position without saying a word, relaxing of each other's presence.

Surprisingly, you weren't one to know how to properly verbalise your feelings either, although you felt more comfortable doing so than she did. You've both learned your own way of showing love to each other without having to say it, your touches holding millions of love sentences that wasn’t even countable.

"I've been waiting for you for so long." you started slowly, your thumb stopping its way in the middle of her cheek. You lifted your face in an effort to see her face, but it seemed like she had been looking at you for a while as your eyes met hers directly. Sevika grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it gently as she sunk her eyes even deeper into yours, never breaking eye contact.

"I know." she answered, her eyes a gray brighter than the rarest of pearls. "Business can be at some periods particularly time demanding." she continued, her eyes a silver more expensive than any jewel this world could carry. "But, I'm glad I'm here with you now." she finished, still looking at you, her eyes making you travel without you having to make a single move.

You gently slid your hands down to her waist, pressing yourself closer to her. Chuckling silently, you felt the hot air escaping Sevika's mouth crashing into the skin of your neck, making you shiver. She moved with you, tucking one of your locks of hair behind your ear, her mechanical arm resting on your waist, gently stroking it up and down. Sevika closed her eyes, resting her chin on the top of your head, as she focused on you, your scent allowing all her muscles to finally relax. Then she regained consciousness of the environment around her, your house.

The welcoming atmosphere, the dim lights, the light smell of your incense coming from the kitchen, and most importantly, your music. One of the things that marked Sevika the most the first time she entered your place was the music, not a second went by without your record player being on and the hundreds of vinyl records you had managed with difficulty to find placed on the shelves. This. All this. That was home. It was so complicated for her to explain the way this place, you, made her fell complete.

"I will never get tired of coming back to your home." Sevika said, a shy smile appearing on her face. "Our home." you answered quickly, pulling her closer to you. She laughed, nodding once in approval. "Right. Ours." she finished, opening her eyes and tenderly grabbing your face between her hands, making you look at her as she remained silent, her gaze deep into yours.

"You really can't stop smoking even on the way back home." you assert ironically. Sevika rolled her eyes playfully, gently squishing your cheeks. "And you really can't stop wasting this moment. Can you ?" she replied making you laugh heartily. "Don't mind me lighting incense that will ultimately be useless because of the smell of your cigars." you said, your hand now resting on her upper chest. "The smell clings to your clothes all the time." you continued, your hand slowly coming down to her chest until it touched her belly. Sevika watched you doing it carefully without saying a word. "But I like it." you confessed, once again straightening your face looking at her. Sevika arched an eyebrow, surprised by the statement. "I really like your smell. More than those stupid artificial smells. More than anything actually."

Sevika didn't answer, her eyes bewitching you completely. You weren't sure what she was thinking, but you could see she was looking for some kind of lie. She could try the all night if she wanted, you thought, but she wouldn't find anything, because you meant every word you said to her. "Come here." Sevika exhaled, her mechanical arm hugging you tighter, her hand pressing to the back of your neck and pushing you into a kiss. Her lips were warm and soothing, both of your mouth moving in sync as you lean closer making the kiss even more deep.

Having her so close to you, her mouth against yours, your warm bodies pressed together, caused an explosion of sensation within you, you weren't able to think about anything at all. If there was a place where you had to die today, it would be here, right now, in her arms. Without thinking, you let yourself be guided by her adventurous mouth, her tongue sticking to the edge of your lips, a way of asking your permission. You let her in, without any hard feelings. As her tongue danced with yours in a perfect chorea, you separate yourself from her lips due to the lack of air.

"You are so beautiful Sevika. It's a shame you don't allow yourself seeing it." you said sadly. While you expected Sevika to be upset by what you just said, she remained silent. Usually, she would already be frowning asking you to stop, but not right now. Instead, she plunged back into the kiss, this time lighter, still with as much passion but even more intimate than the one before. You didn't hold back, sliding your hands under her shirt, brushing her belly with your fingers. "Your hands are cold." she quickly pointed making you chuckled as you pressed your hands against her a little more after that statement. You felt Sevika smiling against your lips.

After a long moment caressing her, so close to her, heart pounding and lips burning, you felt a hint of impatience in the kiss. "Are you going to tease me like this for a little longer or are you going to make the first move, pretty girl ?" Sevika stated almost pleading. "I don't know what you're talking about." you answered childishly. "If you're waiting for me to beg you, know that I'll be the one who will last the longest in this game you’re playing." she added serenely, her hand sliding from behind your neck to right below your chest, her thumb slowly stroking your left breast over your clothe.

"Yeah. You've always been a sore loser." you heard Sevika giggle, using her hand against your chin, making you look at her face again. "Care to repeat that ?" she warned amusingly. "I said, would you please take my shirt off ?", she didn't respond, bringing her face closer to yours inches away from your lips. "Mhm. That’s what I thought." she said, her lips running down your neck laying there a bunch of tender butterfly kisses. You let your head fall back, giving her total access of this space. Her space.

"Good girl." Sevika whispered close to your ear. You blushed, lowering your head shamefully, avoiding her gaze. "Hey. Look at me." you raised your face now staring at her, her eyes authoritative but yet so reassuring. "What's the matter, Love ?". Blushing even more, you shook your head disapprovingly. You could feel Sevika smirking. "It's alright. I know how that make you feel and how much you try to hide it every single time. There is no shame in it you know. Everybody likes to be a little praised sometimes." you couldn't help but smile at how stupid you looked right now. You raised on your tiptoes, once more, pressing your gasping lips together.

Sevika took the opportunity to finally slide her hand under your shirt, grabbing your breast longingly, squeezing it gently as her thumb pass over your nipple. Your hands were already starting to descend along her abdomen, clutching the belt of her pants that you hurried to unhook. Sevika's robotic hand grabbed your wrist at the same time, tenderly putting it away. "Not so fast." she exhaled breathless. "We have the whole night ahead of us. We don't need to rush this." you smiled. "Since when did you become so patient ?" you chuckled. "Since I know it drives you crazy."

Releasing the pressure around her belt, you grabbed Sevika's hand that had slipped under your shirt, putting it away the same way as she did. You already missed the warmth of her warm palm removed. She looked at you worriedly, thinking she might have offended you, or even hurt you. Deciding to answer her questions right away, you quickly grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it far from you. Sevika stared shamelessly at your bare chest, smirking, swallowing them both, just like the first time she saw them.

"So stubborn." she hummed, pulling you by the pants, sticking you to her. She didn’t waist no time pressing her lips to yours with passion and want. Her hands pressing on your waist, moving up and down, feeling every inch of your soft skin she knew so well. You wrap your arms around her neck, turning your head to the side allowing yourself more space to discover.

Separating her face from yours, Sevika forcefully gripped your waist lifting you off the ground, a small gasp of surprise escaping your lips. She placed you on the edge of the table behind you, languidly spreading your legs as she placed herself between them. Wasting no time, Sevika lowered her head to your breasts, gently kissing the space between them.

"Please." you asked in agony, you could hear her amused chuckle, feel her breath dancing over your exposed skin at her mercy. This warm breath so close but yet so far from where you wanted her mouth to be. "Please what ?" she exhaled between kisses, looking up at you. "Touch them." you answered eyes frowning, imploring her. "Oh I know you can be more specific than that." her head swivel to the side below chest, slowly kissing the bottom of it.

Your feet wrapped around her waist squirmed together, impatience rising more and more inside you. "Just-" you were breathing hard, your rib cage was struggling to keep up. "Please. Just... grab my tits. Please !" her hands gripped your hips, bringing you closer to her face. "As you wish." her warm lips came crashing down on your hard nipple, sucking it lightly. "Yes... just- just like that." your face tilted back, your mouth half-open letting out heavy breaths.

Sevika spent a long time her mouth on it. Switching from one to the other when she wanted to. Massaging them with her hands, both human and mechanical. When her tongue circulated in a circle around one of your nipples, one of her free hands came to press the other, pinching it slightly. She was able to stay like that for hours, trying to find the perfect harmony that would get the most sound out of your mouth. It became a game for her.

A trail of spit had formed, creating a link between your breasts and her mouth. "More- Please." you said, your hips bumping into hers, your sign of your impatience. "You know you just have to say what you want specifically and you'll get it." she purred, never stopping licking your tits, slowly grabbing them between her teeth. "I- I need to feel you. Harder." you spit out your words with difficulty. "Mhm..." she hummed. "Right here ?" her eyes never leaving yours. "Everywhere, Sevika. Everywhere."

Sevika smirked, her hands stopped playing with your breasts, she came to place them below your thighs lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around the back of her neck again so you wouldn't tip over. The kisses didn't stop either as she put a bunch of butterfly kisses on your neck. Arriving in front of the bedroom door, Sevika withdrew her mechanical hand from under your thigh to open it. She laid you down on your back in the bed, coming down with you still not taking her hands off your body.

"Can I take it off you ?" you asked, your hands gripping the fabric of her shirt. "I’d like that." she exhaled straightening up and lifting her arms slightly in the air. You smiled as you straightening up too removing this part of her clothes. The shirt removed and thrown on the ground, Sevika placed the palm of her hand on your chest, gently pushing you back into the mattress.

Her mechanical hand came grabbing the headboard to hold herself back, her other hand coming to replace a lock of your hair behind your ear. Not breaking the strong eye contact, your arms came grabbing the hook of her bra unhooking it and throwing it over the bed. Your eyes couldn't help but travel between her eyes and her breast, so beautiful and soft to the eye, a small grin appearing on your face.

"What is it ?" she questioned her head tilting on the side. "Nothing. Could never complain having your tits on my face." you purred. She chuckled, her hand now on your cheek caressing it with her thumb. You put your arm around her back pulling her towards you, your breasts pressing together. What a delightful feeling. Nothing came close to the warmth of Sevika's naked body against yours. As if you were only one. You were only one.

Sevika's mouth returning on yours, you could feel her hands sliding down your hips, stopping at the top of your pants. "Take it off." you asked breathlessly. "No need to ask me twice." her hands lifting your hips, you took support on your feet to facilitate the task to her. As her fingers lowered your pants sliding them off your legs, she kissed the length of your stomach, now down to your navel releasing millions of butterflies through your body. You were burning hot. Throwing it behind her, her kisses continued on your pelvis, long and slow. Her lips brushing your panties, you wiggled your hips at her, telling her you couldn't wait any longer.

Sevika completely ignored your attempts. She always did. Not even paying attention to the sound of impatience you muttered. She heard them all of course. She could feel you tense. She could see the wet spot on your panties getting bigger. Sevika knew all about you. Knowing what gesture will make you react and how, like an open book. Taking her time, that's what she liked. Waiting until you're just a terrible mess under her, that’s what she wanted.

"God- Please ! Please... Please Sevika !" you could barely articulate, the strong woman below you giggling. Suddenly, she got up on her knees, at the end of the bed. You lifted your head from the pillows, wondering what she was doing. Sevika quickly pulling off her pants, making it join yours on the ground. "I could have at least helped you remove it." you complained. "No." her eyes returned to yours. "Stay still. I don't want you to make a single move." she hummed getting closer to you, her boxers remaining on her.

If there was one word to describe Sevika, it was 'perfection'. Her short black hair pulled back with her hair tie, some locks that already escaped it caressing the top of her cheeks. Her face so harsh but yet so soft to touch. Her beautiful authoritative gray eyes that you dreamed of getting lost in. Her strong nose which gave so much temper to her face. The thin blue scar that danced along her cheek. Her dark lips, so warm against yours.

Your eyes continued to travel down her body, down to those athletic muscular shoulders. Her arm so muscular with which she liked to carry you so much, all the movement she was making flexing it. And her hand, oh this hand, thick and long able to break everything she wanted, but with which she would tenderly caress your face and put strands of your hair back behind your ear. Her mechanical arm, her greatest weapon, but which she used to help you place the flowers you always brought home in a vase, or when she helped you carry your heavy boxes of objects that you could find everywhere. You were an artist, which amazed Sevika, because after all, who could have such an overflowing imagination in such a colorless place ?

Her breasts, so mesmerizing. Her belly, her abs so well drawn. Her breathtaking v-line descending to the bottom of her pelvis. Her thick thighs, probably one of your favorite body parts of her, so strong but yet so comfortable to lay on. Oh lord, if a Greek goddess had descended on earth, this is what she would look like.

"You can't even imagine the look in your eyes right now. If only you could see yourself." she purred, her mouth over your breasts again, making invisible drawings around your nipples. You couldn't hold back anymore, the noises that escaped your mouth were just becoming obscene. Sevika liked it, it was easy to understand with the accelerated pace she was now taking. Not letting a single second of respite from your seething skin.

"Please. Sevika. I want you." your teeth were grinding. "Mhm..." was all she managed to say first. "Say it." she then said, stopping the torture she was doing to your nipples, looking you straight in the eyes. "Say- say what ?" you answered intrigued, eyebrows furrowed by all the sensations she was giving you. "How bad you want this." she kissed your left breast. "How bad you want me." she kissed your right breast. "How bad you want me to make you feel good." she licked the space between your breasts up to your neck, sucking it, enough to leave a mark that she loved seeing you wear.

"I want you so much Sevika." you answered quickly, your hand resting on the back of her neck. "I need you so bad." your feet squirmed, her mouth sucking the other side of your neck. "I want to feel you." you ran your hands through her hair, tugging her ponytail lightly, making her groan. "I want to feel you from the inside." you could hear her humming over you, loving everything you were saying.

She pull herself up on top of you, taking support on her hands. Her bright gray eyes scanned your face, a warm smile on her mouth. You tucked another strand of her hair behind her ear, her face between your palm. "I want you to make me feel good. Just like you know how to." you finished, bringing her face closer to yours, pressing your lips to hers longingly. As she broke the kiss moving her face lower, you felt her warm breath crashing over your lips, your neck, your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, and finally your pelvis, her path ending here.

Grabbing the end of your panties, she slid it down slowly. Bringing it to your calf, she kissed the inside of your knee tenderly, her thick fingers trailing along your skin as if it was in danger of breaking. She looked up at you, making sure you were fine. Your eyes were closed, your mouth slightly open, your ribcage expanding rapidly, she smiled to herself. Your panties now to your feet, her warm hands resting on your calves moving them up and down, you kicked it to the side eagerly, a slight growl escaping your lips.

You lift your head trying to look at Sevika, pressing on your elbows to hold yourself. From here you could see her muscled back, her hands wrapped around your thighs, her face so close to where you wanted her. Her breath hitting your clit sent hundreds of waves of electricity through your body. She looked up hearing you straighten up, her eyes lock with yours. Sevika smirked at you, your eyes imploring her.

"Sevika..." you sobbed. "Shhh…" she blowed, her nose stroking your inner thigh. "As you've always said while you paint, great works requires great patience." she whispered, chuckling. "Sevika- Please." you were completely losing your mind. "Yes ?" she mocked you, still not moving her face. "You know what you have to do." she continued, her mechanical fingers tapping your thighs. "I want- I want your mouth." you begged. "Where ?" she replied, her smirk growing. "For the love of God, you know where." you wiggled under her. She didn't answer, only raising an eyebrow. "Eat me out !", you finally cried out. That was enough for Sevika. She backed away from the bed, her knees now on the floor touching the edge of it, her hands going under your thighs gripping the underside of your knees pulling you towards her so that your butt stops at the limit of the mattress.

She brought her face closer, but still not breaking eye contact. "You're gorgeous." Sevika said, inches from your burning skin. "Anything for you." she opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out slightly. You moaned loudly as her tongue touched your inner labia licking your wetness from bottom to top. Sevika savoured your reaction as you struggled looking at her, your elbows threatening to let go. "Yes..." it was all you managed to say. Finishing licking up the wetness between your folds, she deliberately and hungrily licked your clit. This single movement made you lose all control, your head falling back against the pillow.

Your loud moans filled the warm silence of your bedroom. Sevika no longer dripped her mouth from your clit, not leaving a single area out of her tongue. She was thinking about your taste, you tasted so good, you tasted so her. Despite her hands gripping your thighs tightly, you couldn't help but move, this feeling was far too good to stay still. Groaning into you, she slid her hands down your legs until they reached your calves, positioning both of your legs over her shoulders. You crossed them, sticking you entirely to her, pushing her face even deeper between your thighs, as if it could be even closer.

Sevika wanted to spend the rest of her life here, between your thighs, making you scream all those obscene sounds but yet so melancholy when they came out of your mouth. Her eyes were on you, still. Not a day went by that she wasn't completely captivated by your reactions. The way you had trouble breathing. Your furrowed brows and your mouth now totally open with pleasure. Your hands gripping the sheet, your fingers twisting it hardly. Your legs already shaking the second her mouth touched you.

She wanted to memorize this forever. No matter how many times she saw it, she could never get enough of it. She knew your moves by heart, just like a favorite song, but she kept rediscovering them every time. "Oh Sevika- This is so good !" you moaned. As if she couldn't tell already. She rocked her tongue harder on your clit, circling around it. "Oh- Oh- Yes ! Yes !" your hands were almost tearing apart the tissue between your fingers, a hot ball forming in your lower abdomen. "Oh- Yes- Sevika !" you screamed, your toes curling.

Without slowing down the pace, Sevika patted your thigh, her way of asking. Despite the burning orgasm you felt coming closer, you took all your strength straightening up on your elbows, gazing into her piercing eyes. She wanted to see you. She wanted to miss no moment of that. She wanted to see you fall apart by the tip of her tongue. She wanted to see your eyes say what your mouth could never in those moments.

"Oh God- Oh God- Oh- Fuck- Yes !" you kept repeating as you felt her smile growing on you. And it hit. It hit hard. It hit so good. Not able to hold you still, your body threw itself back, your head colliding with the pillow. "Yes !" you cried out as you bit your lip. Your whole body was shaking, pleasure driving through you. Your legs threatened to fall off Sevika's shoulders despite your grip. A heavier and longer moan came out of your mouth, as her tongue continued rocking at your clit until your orgasm ends.

"It's- Too much..." you whispered, overstimulation taking over you. Sevika slowed down, removing her mouth from your clit, letting you catch your breath. You felt her hand move up and down your leg as she kissed your inner-thigh. "You did so good." she breathed out. You straightened up a little, tenderly grabbing her wrist indicating her to come closer. She smiled slightly, climbing back onto the bed as you backed yourself off giving her more room. You put your hand behind the back of her neck, pressing her lips to yours in a passionate kiss, her hand resting on your hip.

"Would you let me pleasure you tonight ? It’s alright if you don’t fell like it." you asked, your thumb brushing her cheek. At the beginning of your relationship, Sevika didn’t want to let you please her, she was far too reserved. It’s a choice that you had always respected without a question of course, even though you started asking yourself what you could possibly do wrong, and over time she opened up to you.

You understood that it wasn’t about you, but the fact of being so vulnerable in front of someone, someone she cared about so much. The more days, weeks, months, years passed, Sevika understood that there wasn’t a single threat here, that you only wanted to make her feel as good as she was making you. She trusted you. For the first time, she trusted someone else than herself.

She nodded at your question, placing a quick kiss on your lips. She pulled away from you, her hands gripping the elastic of her boxers with she pulled down, throwing her last garment to the ground. "You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Sevika." you stated quickly, knowing that these compliments could embarrass her, you decided not to push it too much each time, but you couldn’t help but let her know. Because she was, indeed, the most beautiful of all.

She didn't answer, avoiding your gaze. Despite her attempts to avoid your eyes, you could see that little smile crowing on the corner of his lips. Sevika being shy was such a rare moment to see, and you loved every second of it, a little pink tint appearing on her cheeks, she was blushing. You sat up like her, face to face, letting your finger slide along her shoulder making her shiver.

"What would you like me to do, Love ?" you whisper in her ear. "Like last time... would you ?" she replied. You pulled back your face admiring hers. You smiled at her lovingly, placing your hand on her chest. "You mean..." your hand slid down her belly, Sevika staring at it intently, "... eating you out ?" you asked, a big warm smile forming on your mouth. Her eyes went straight up to meet yours, bashfully.

"Yes, please." she hummed. Your hand slowly grabbed her shoulder telling her to shift and lie on her back next to you. When she did, you put one of your legs over her body, her legs between yours, sitting on top of her. Her mechanical arm came to rest on your ribs, the cold metal making you shiver too. It was so good to see her from that perspective, normally she was the one in your position. Her locks of hair escaping from her ponytail sticking to the pillow. That look in her eyes, that look of trust, that look of tenderness. "My pretty girl." Sevika purred, her human hand resting on your bent hip over her.

You leaned down, placing a warm kiss on her lips once again. You began to trace a long path of butterfly kisses down the length of her body, crawling back on your knees each time you descended on a new part of her body. Sevika watched you, her mouth half open, breathing heavily. When you finally reached her pelvis, your legs had also come to the edge of the bed, and just like her, you got off it, pressing your knees to the floor, your face in front of it.

Your hands moved up and down her thick thighs, your palms enjoying the feel of her soft skin against yours so much. You approached your face to her clit, from where you were you could already see her wetness. So close yet so far, your warm breath bumped into it, Sevika groaned at the feeling. "As much as I'd like being able to do it myself, I'm gonna need you to come closer to me, my love." you told her chuckling softly.

She chuckled and hummed in response, using her feet to get closer to your face. "Thank you." you whispered. Not wasting a minute, you open your mouth sticking your tongue over her inner labia, also licking her wetness. You heard her growl even louder than before, the sound of the sheets crashing into her strong grip. Pulling your face back, placing your hands on her knees spreading them even more apart, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting directly into her gaze straight into yours. You smirked seductively, trying to give her a taste of her own medicine.

"Don't you do it." Sevika said, her teeth grinding. "But what do you want me to do then ?", you replied amused. Determined not to let her nervousness showing more than it already was, she replied with a smirk appearing on her lips in turn. "I want you to eat me out the same way as I made you scream. If you think you can be as good as I was though." you had a sincere laugh, bringing your mouth closer to her inner thigh, not breaking eye contact like her.

Your mouth sticking to her clit, Sevika still had less trouble than you standing on her wrists. Never once did she take her eyes off you when you would came down on her. Maybe she wanted to keep some sort of control over the situation despite being at your mercy, or maybe she was just even more turned on watching you do it. That look she gave you while you pleasured her always made you go bold. You were holding Silco's top soldier in the palm of your hand. You were able to make the most feared name in the Undercity fall apart with just the tip of your tongue.

Determined to pick up the pace, you slide your arms below her thighs, gripping the top of them with your hands. Certain that she wouldn’t be able to move easily now - at least as long as she wasn't trying to - you stuck your tongue harder on her clit, circling around it. Even though she managed to keep her balance, Sevika let her head fall back, her mouth slightly open, much more castling moans coming out.

"Yeah..." she growled. "Just like that... keep going." she expired. Obviously you already knew it, but hearing her say it rekindled the flame in your stomach. Continuing to do what you were doing, you could feel her body tense, her breathing was jerky. "More." she claimed. Ready to give her what she wanted, you agreed moaning against her clit. You untied one of your hands from her thigh, bringing it back to you.

"Your face, show me." you said, going back to what you were doing after asking her. Sevika groaned, her head straightened and her eyes fell back into yours again. Now that she was looking at you, you slid your index finger along her wet folds, making it more slippery. Slowly, you slide your finger in her as it penetrate so easily. Her eyes closed a little more, a sign that what you were doing was good.

Moving your finger in her, you were moving it fast, curling it slightly, trying to find her sweet spot. "Oh fuck-" she moaned, her head fell back once more. Rocking you tongue against her clit, you started sucking it hard, pulling your finger in and out. From below you could see her chest glowing, sweat now covering her. Her ribcage was inflating hardly, and if she didn't stop, she would completely destroying the sheet under her.

That's when you slipped a second finger inside her. "Oh-" she moaned. It was the moment when you couldn't slow down. Sucking and licking at her clit, moving your fingers in and out of her, you were quick and precise. "I’m- Fuck-" she tried to speak unsuccessfully. She was ready to explode at any moment. Her moans getting louder, she started moving her hips against your mouth. Following her movements, you felt her body tremble, it was soon here.

Suddenly, her legs were shaking violently. Her whole body began to do the same and her back bent upwards. A moan louder than any other echoed through the bedroom. You felt her juice pour into your mouth as you sucked all of it like you would suck the juice from a squeezed orange.

You didn't stop either, waiting for her to ask you herself. "Good !" she exclaimed. You released the pressure on her thighs, your fingers slowly withdrawing from inside her. Your tongue shifting from her clit to let her catch her breath before bringing your fingers back to your mouth, licking up what was left of her juice. Her face still buried in the pillow, you could see the top of her ribcage slowing its pace.

You straightened up, pushing off your feet to pull yourself up onto the bed. You reposition yourself between her legs, your arms on both sides of her face. Sevika opened her eyes slowly, still recovering from her orgasm. You tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, leaning down and kissing her cheek. "You've been so good for me, my love." you purred next to her ear. Pressing your forehead to hers, she lifted her human hand before pressing it to your cheek, her thumb caressing it tenderly.

You turned your head to the side, pressing your lips to hers in a deep kiss. "Tell me..." she began, her other mechanical arm resting on top of your hip "... have you had enough ?” she hummed. You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "You wanna go again ?" you asked, a warm smile on your mouth. "Well, let's just say that I really want to hear you again. And we haven't tried everything yet." she finished this sentence by whispering it in your ear. A shiver ran through your body and the same hot ball reformed in your stomach.

Your lips landing on her neck, she placed her finger above your chin making you look at her. "But, only if you actually want it too." she asked seriously. "Of course I want it Sevika. I want you, always." you answered, she smiled, her mechanical hand firmly gripping your hip. Without even realizing it you found yourself flipped on the bed below her, her huge body covering you completely. She caressed your entire body, whispering millions of words in your ear about how beautiful you were.

"More, Sevika. More." you asked desperately. "Anything." she said back. You felt her human hand slide down your stomach, sending millions of electric shocks through you. Sevika lay on her side, facing you, a full view of your body. Her finger just above your clit, she looked at you waiting for a sign. You nodded quickly, your breathing quickening before she even touched it. Sliding it down your wet folds, she scooped up the wetness there, before applying light pressure to your clit making you moan.

"Oh Sevika..." you repeated her name like a prayer. Her eyes went from her finger on your clit to your eyes non-stop. Now circling around it, she added a second finger to her movements as you bit your lip. Finally, she took them both inside you slowly. "Fuck-" you breathed out. Moving them in and out, her pace picked up pretty quick. You lifted one of your arms, grabbing the back of her neck pressing her face to yours, your breaths mingling.

"This- This is really good." you hummed. "Mhm... Faster ?" she questioned. "Yes- Yes please." you tried to articulate. The sound of her fingers moving faster into your clit was filling the sound of your moans in the room. "Oh- Oh- Yes !" you exclaimed with your eyes partially closed. Sevika now pressed her thumb on your clit, also moving quickly on it. "Yes !" you kept repeating. Feeling the heat rise again in your stomach, your eyes closed suddenly. "Look at me." you heard her say. Obeying her request you turned your head to face hers. "You really are a pretty mess, Love." she purred kissing your forehead.

Those nicknames coming out of her mouth. Her warm lips on your skin. Her thick fingers inside you. You couldn't hold it back for long. "Come on. Come on, my love. You're doing so good." she praised now kissing your neck. "Fuck- Yes ! Yes !" you cried out, your teeth gritting. Your orgasm hitting you hard, your whole body frizzed instantly. This feeling of intense pleasure exploded inside you, your back arched. Your hand behind Sevika's neck pulling the bottom of her hair. Your legs shaking harshly. It didn't take long before your body was spasming from head to toe. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel Sevika's gaze on you, devouring you whole, not missing a single piece of your reaction.

After long seconds, Sevika's fingers not slowing down, you started to overstimulate. "Sevika !" you just said. She understood immediately, slowing the pace before pulling her fingers completely out of you. "You did good. You did so good for me." she hummed against your face. Your body relaxing a bit more, you opened your eyes, watching Sevika bring her fingers back to her mouth, sucking your juice on their tips.

Turning on your side too, your arm slung behind her back, pressing her to you. "That was so good, Sev." you exhaled almost inaudibly. As she chuckled, you could feel her belly vibrating against yours. "Yeah, I could see that." she said laughing. "But, tell me..." you began, your nose rubbing hers. "... that wasn't what you meant by 'tried everything', right ?" you say biting your lower lip. Her human hand rising along your hip, she smirked. "Only a part of it, actually." she whispered. "And I think you're far wet enough for the rest." she pointed out.

A chuckle leaving your mouth, you watched her roll over and extend her mechanical arm towards the bedside table. Excitement running trough you, you sat on the bed, watching her tug on the handle of it. Seizing the toy in her hand, she placed it on the edge of the bed before grabbing the rest of the strap. Sevika hoisted herself up on her shins so that it was easier for her to place the harness around her hips.

"Let me give you a hand with this." you purred. "My pleasure." she said watching you move towards her, taking the harness from her hands. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you managed to hook it on her. Now grabbing the toy, you fixed it on the harness, her burning eyes watching you doing so. "Lube it, Love." you nodded, leaning back in the direction of the bedside table too, taking the lube.

When you were done, you tossed it aside. Felling Sevika's hand sliding from the top of your cheek to the back of your neck, turning your face to hers. She licked her lips, looking at yours, she tilted her head to the side crushing her still wet lips to yours. Her tongue caressing the tip of your lips, you opened your mouth letting her explore it. At that moment you swore you could still feel your juice on the tip of her tongue.

Her robotic arm pushing against your lumbus, she pulled you against her, your breasts crashing into each other once again. You were both moaning into each other's mouths. Sevika grabbing your butt, you pulled your face back by lack of air. "You moan so pretty." she breathed out, slightly smacking your butt making you gasp. Sticking her lips to yours once again, she pushed her face against yours causing you to rock back.

"Now be a good girl and spread those legs for me." she purred. Heat waves hitting your body, you obeyed, spreading your legs letting her get between them. Positioning herself correctly in the middle, Sevika rubbed the tip of the toy against your clit. "Don’t- Please." you sobbed. "You ask me..." her mechanical hand grabbed yours placing it over your head. "... you have it." her same hand grabbed your other and putting it above your head as well, tightening them both together, trapping your hands under her grip.

Her lips laying a final kiss beneath your jaw, she gazed into yours, waiting for your response. "I want you..." you started, her face coming closer. "... to make love to me, Sevika." you purred tenderly. Not looking away, her warm breath stroking your face, she smiled. Not the kind of mocking smirk she used to wear. A real smile on which you can almost bet that there was a little shyness hiding there. Although the more time passed the more you saw this kind of smile on her face, you were still amazed every time you saw them, they decorated her face so beautifully, making her cheeks puff out.

"I..." she began, repeatedly switching from one of your eye to the other. Not finishing, she stuck her forehead to yours before leaning in for a passionate kiss. You rolled your hip against the toy, feeling your wetness flow between your legs. "So needy." she whispered ironically. Her free human hand reaching down to her pelvis, she grabbed the toy, placing it in front of your entrance. "Ready ?" she asks seriously, slightly arching an eyebrow. "Yes." you answered, your heart pounding.

Guiding it inside, you felt your walls stretched. You gasped as you clenched your fists, digging your fingernails into your palms. Paying attention to any signs of discomfort, Sevika noticed it. Releasing the pressure around your wrists, she guided one of your hands behind her back, wrapping her fingers around yours on the other. "You’re doing great, my love. Are you alright ?" she asked concerned.

"I- I am." you breathed out heavily. "I just have to adapt the first few seconds." you reassured her. "Of course. Take your time. I’ll go slow." she hummed, her mechanical hand moving along your leg. Focused on your reactions, Sevika kept the same speed, your nerves relaxing slowly. "Faster." you asked. Sevika placed her mechanical arm next to your head stabilizing herself. Her thrusts accelerated, you heard the sound of the harness slamming between your thighs.

"Yes-" you moaned. Your back arched, Sevika taking the opportunity sliding her mechanical arm underneath, sticking your breasts together. The speed evolving gradually, your moans growing louder, she placed kisses along your neck, sucking it hard enough to leave new marks. "You're taking it so well." she praised you. A familiar feeling forming in your belly, you bit your lips together, muffling your sounds.

"Hey." she called out making you look at her. "I want to hear you." she ordered gently. Half-opening your mouth, you released the sounds you were trying to hold back, making her smirk. "Harder." you asked again. Sevika groaned, her thrusts mercilessly, you were whimpering loudly. "Yes !" you shouted. "Just- Just like that." your fingers scratched her back, surely leaving marks. "Keep going- Please-" you whined. "I ain’t going anywhere, Love." she laughed.

Pleasure crossing your whole body, you felt your limit coming. Sevika didn't stop for a second, hitting your spot every time. You didn't know how deeply your fingers had etched her skin, but you were sure of the reddish color of it. "Oh Fuck ! Oh- Yes !" you moaned shamelessly. Wrapping your legs around her waist, you followed her every thrusts. "This- This is so good Sevika !" you cried out against her ear. "That's it, good girl." she praised once more, making you gasp.

You felt your orgasm hitting you hard, releasing the most extreme pleasure into your body. Like fireworks, the waves of pleasure exploded everywhere. You were shaking intensely, not even knowing how you could manage all these feelings at the same time. Head spinning, eyebrows furrowed, you were a mess. Your hot bodies not stopping, your sweats of effort mixing, you were both one, forming an indistinguishable pair.

It wasn’t even possible to describe in words what you felt when you and Sevika were making love. A single spirit connected between two bodies, a single spirit connecting your minds. It was just you two, nothing else existed around you. Within these walls, the eyes could speak more than the mouths. It was stronger than intimacy, stronger than any poem could write, stronger than what a single human could feel. It was love.

Catching your breath, Sevika slowed down her thrusts, letting you recover after that head throbbing orgasm she gave you. "You’re so beautiful." she whispered. You could barely even hear what she was saying so low, your ears ringing. "That was perfect, Sevika." you said. "You were so good." you kept repeating. She chuckled, giving you one of her smiles that you loved so much in response. Both still trying to catch proper breaths, you were holding your foreheads together, enjoying each other heartbeats.

"I’m gonna have to pull out." she informed you. You nodded, tightening your arms a little more around her waist. Positioning her human hand on your hip, she gently removed the toy from your hole, leaving it dripping with your own juice. Gasping at this sudden lack in you, she reached the harness, unhooking it and throwing it off the bed. "You're always doing so good, Love." she murmured as her human hand came to rest on your cheek. Catching her cheeks between yours, you pulled her face to your lips, it fells like you were both on fire.

"I..." Sevika started her sentence. You stop kissing her, letting her finish. Nervous, her eyes were looking everywhere but in yours. She swallowed hard, you could see that what she was doing didn't make her totally comfortable, but she was trying. "I love you." she whispered. Despite the fact that the two of you were alone in this bedroom, you almost couldn't hear her saying it, as if it was a secret that two children in love whispered in each other's ear in a playground.

It wasn't the first time Sevika said this to you, but every time it felt like a first time. She was more the type to show you that she cared about you, through everyday actions rather than vocalizing it. And each time, she was getting shy about it, biting her lower lip as if she was afraid of being rejected. But she knew you needed to hear it, even if you didn't ask her so as not to make her uncomfortable, giving her the time she needed to open up the way she wanted to. She knew you needed it as much as her actually.

You didn't answer directly, concentrating on the features of her face, sliding your thumb along her blue scar. Instead, a huge smile covered your face, as you were holding eye contact, now that she was finally able to look at you. And it terrified her. It terrified her to be suddenly filled with such happiness. That's all she ever wanted to do, bring the greatest treasures of the world right in front of your feet just to see you smile like this forever.

You closed the remaining space between your mouths. The kiss was passionate, strong, heartfelt, heated, burning. Her tongue on the edge of your lips, she was asking permission. Not waiting a second, you opened your mouth, letting her explore it. Your hand slid down the back of her neck, stroking the bottom of her hair, making her moan into your mouth. Pulling away from the lack of air, both of you stayed in that position, reading each other's eyes. Not wanting to stress her out by pointing out what she just said to you with an open heart, you answered ironically.

"Are you saying this right now because we were just making love ?" you exclaimed with your mouth open mimicking shock and a deep chuckle escaped her mouth. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Really funny." she giggled pinching your rib. "Oh God no- Sevika, please ! That tickles !" you were laughing so hard that your stomach was twisting. "No but really- That's so- So romantic of you !" you were trying to say between your laughter. She pinched harder, now bitting the space between your shoulder and your neck. "Okay- Stop ! You win alright ! You win !" you said, trying to make her stop. "Say you submit." she ordered smirking, stopping biting your skin. "Never." you said frowning, trying to sound like her.

"Well, then…" she warned, her teeth greeting your skin once again. This time, your laughter made your stomach hurt so badly that you couldn't even ask her to stop. "I-" you were struggling so much. "I submit !" you cried out, your hand resting on her chest trying to push her. "I beg your pardon ?" Sevika teased you. "I said..." she placed her face in front of yours, her eyes captivating yours "... I submit." you hummed, a little smile on the corner of your lips.

"Good girl." she purred in your ear, and once again, you were blushing trying not to meet her gaze. Seeing you in this state, Sevika chuckled, her mechanical hand going back and forth on the side of your thigh. "How is it possible that even after moaning all those dirty sounds so loud, you're still so shy when I call you that ?" she rhetorically asked. Her nose came against yours, nudging it in a way that made your face turn. "It's you." you explained. "And why is that ?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "Because. It’s just you." you finished, smiling shyly.

Remaining on top of you after a long time, Sevika dropped herself to the side with a huff. Turning around too, you placed your leg above her hips, your same-side arm wrapping around her waist. You felt Sevika's human hand resting on the top of your head, playing with your hair, while her mechanical hand came to draw circles on your thigh. You both stayed like that for long minutes, enjoying the relaxing silence between you. Your head resting on her chest, you felt her take a deep breath that she exhaled through her nose.

You lifted your head so you could see hers. Her face was stoic, thoughtful, she saw staring at an invisible point in front of her. Wondering what she was possibly thinking about zoning out like this, your hand gently came to rest on her cheek, turning her face in your direction. "What’s the matter, Love ?" you asked concerned. She was looking at you apologetically, something was definitely wrong, but she didn't know how to tell you.

Taking a deep breath again, she exhaled turning her head from left to right. "I..." she began, looking at the wall in front of her. "I wanted to say I'm sorry." she confessed in a weak voice. You weren't expecting this, not at all. It wasn't that Sevika couldn't acknowledge her mistakes, she did, but she'd rather say something she did was wrong than say she was sorry. But also, you wondered why she would tell you that right now.

Sometimes you and Sevika could disagree on many things, and when you did, stubborn as you both were, you couldn't find common ground. You both had a completely different vision of things down here, obviously, you didn't have the same experience, although there were similarities, it was difficult to understand each other about your opinions.

Usually these minor arguments ended with Sevika leaving the room you were in to end the topic, until she came back to the bedroom later, saying nothing but pulling you close to her. As ironic as it may seem, Sevika hated conflict. She couldn't stand the moments when your harmony was interrupted. She couldn't stand the times she had to leave at The Last Drop after an unfinished argument. She hated it more than anything, despite the fact that you reminded her that any relationship couldn’t go without disagreement. But she never wanted to be in disagreement with you.

The last argument dated back to last week. And like almost all of your arguments, it was about Zaun. That night, great tensions were starting to arise in the Undercity, and you yelled at her that sometimes you couldn't take the stress of not seeing her come home. You were trying to make her understand that fighting for the Nation of Zaun was a brave fight, but that it was worthless if she wasn’t fighting for more than Zaun itself. Once again, she probably misinterpreted your words and she preferred to leave the house, rushing angrily through the streets.

However, you haven't talked about it since, preferring to move on and not think about it. Even though she still hasn’t mention what she was talking about, it was the first thought that could have come to your mind. Yet, you couldn't figure out why she would bring this up, when she would probably prefer to pretend it never happened, like she always did.

You didn't answer, you couldn't even think of answering anything, it was so sudden. So you just stared at her, her eyes piercing through your soul, your hand still resting on her cheek. You wish you could have said something, not letting her find her own words alone, but in the mean time, you couldn't even remember your name. Sevika was biting her bottom lip, swallowing hard, trying to vocalize her thought so strongly present but which she was having so much trouble explaining.

"I understand, now." she said slowly, her human hand coming to grab yours on her cheek, squeezing it gently. "The night when you talked about my devotion to Zaun." she clarified, you were right. She exhaled slowly again, as a child preparing to give a speech in front of all the parents at school, not wanting to make a single mistake. "I understand now, what you wanted to tell me about the fact that fighting only for the nation would bring me nothing." her words came out cautiously.

Not wanting to disturb her in her tracks, you let her continue silently. "Because I don't only fight for Zaun, I fight for what Zaun actually is." you were beginning to see where she was coming from, and your heart was beating faster than a racehorse. "I fight for being able to come home to you every night. I fight for being able to feel your arms around me. I fight for being able to hear you say that it'll be okay whenever I fell like everything is falling apart around me." your eyes were starting to burn and you had to force yourself to look up to hold back the beginnings of tears flowing.

"I'm sorry that I was mad at you." she sighed remorsefully. "I was mad at you because you were right." she came replacing a lick of your hair behind your ear. "When I think of Zaun, I think of you." she brought her face closer to yours. "If Zaun as to be without you, then it means nothing to me anymore." her lips brushed yours. "Because it's you." her warm breath caressed your skin. "You are Zaun."

All your senses were on alert, but it wasn't a bad feeling. The mattress may have supported your body, but you still had the impression of falling into an infinite free fall. You could hear your heart in your ears, feel it hitting your chest asking you to come out to stick to Sevika's. Letting the tears roll down your cheeks, you gripped her face between your palms, sealing your lips with one of the most intimate kiss you’ve ever exchanged.

This kiss burned like logs being thrown into a fire. It carried you like your heart had just grown wings. It set you free like fireworks crashing into the sky. It calmed you down like a lullaby sung to a baby. Sevika moaned into the kiss, could she feel it too ? Her human hand sliding along your neck, she came to press your lips even further. This moment was a stability, a routine that you would never get tired of, a moment that you would live again and again as if it were the first time.

"I love you, my love." you sobbed out. "God I- I love you so so much Sevika... You have no idea." you cried out, tears not stopping. Your eyes closing because of the tears, you felt her thumb rest below your chin, gently lifting it up. "I love you more, my love." she whispered, your eyes opening. Her eyes were shining like yours, and she was smiling. A smile she tried to maintain despite her difficulty in retaining this same emotion as you.

Throwing yourself into her arms, your fingers gripped her skin as if it might fly away at any moment. Sevika buried her face in your neck, and you felt it, the freshness of the tears she was trying to hold back falling on your skin. Holding you in her arms, she was holding your world.

She was your balance, the missing piece of your puzzle. She was your remedy, the only one capable of erasing your sorrows with the simple touch of her fingers. She was your muse, the most beautiful colors of a painting, the most beautiful pencil lines. She was the most beautiful poem written by the most dreamy of writers. She was your other half, your soulmate, your twin flame, your home. She was the love of your life.

She was your only love, Sevika.

[cosplayinamerica]

by Anna-Neko

Before all the endless online, digital everything, before FB and Insta, the “don’t u know how many followers…” & influencers nonsense, there was this man!

Kevin would take your photo, make small-talk & drop encouraging comments and make you feel a star! A former cosplay partner still fondly remembers how he would always know what she was cosplaying as! No matter how obscure! If he didn’t know the cosplay – he would ask about it! The interest always genuine. He seemed to remember everyone from con to con, and in later years when instead of running around he would set up a corner with a backdrop and do photos this way – he would jot down file numbers & email me full-size images after the event if asked.

So just a quick scene setting up. It is very easy to forget, but back then (1999 to maybe 2002~ish) there was waaaaay less conventions. There wasn’t an event happening every weekend, much less multiple events at same time! Digital cameras were not a thing. Well, obviously they existed, but your average otaku heading to an anime con might bring a cheap 35mm disposable camera (or maybe 3, if CVS had a multi-pack sale!).

Kevin’s FansView website was THE cosplay/cons site. He updated multiple times throughout the event, 2 or 3 times each day! There weren’t just photos of “hot people”, he tirelessly took photos of regular attendees, cosplayers of various ages and skill levels, guest & panel highlights…. If you weren’t lucky enough to be at the convention itself, seeing all his photos was the next best thing! In a few years we’d have con report galleries on Cosplay.com, Geocities and LinusLam …. but all these were _after the fact_, not during. Not quite the same, ya know?)

Even my mom knew his website, and during cons I’d call home during the weekend and she would excitedly tell me she was just on Kevin’s site and saw my photo!

Like, seriously…. we’d joke a con wasn’t a con until you either a) saw House of Anime truck in the parking lot, or b) ran into Mr Lillard.

Over the years there’s been all sorts of amazing run-ins with him. He would always make some jokes, and go above and beyond helping a fellow nerd – like the time my brand~new digital camera (in 2000! quite the expense!) suddenly died (6 AA batteries the monster ate) and he kindly tried to help me with both fresh batteries and advice, and when it looked like the camera wasn’t coming back he straight up took out his FILM CAMERA (again, this man was a pro! He always had a backup) and took photos of my cosplay and friends’, and handed me the finished roll

OR that other time my memory card was already full within literally first few hours of the convention (circa 2000, CompactFlash. Gigs? ha! Your PC might have 2 gigs hard drive and be a luxury. Memory cards ran in the Megabites) and this SAINT of a man helped by using HIS LAPTOP to let me clear out the card, email the zip file to myself then and there, and thus have memory space to take another 30~40 photos

or this Other OTHER time we were talking about shitty hotel hallway lights… And asked if he would mind popping with us outside real quick? He took the time to go! Outdoors into the sunshine! On the lawns by the hotel for a good 30 minutes! Thus giving us our first ‘proper’ cosplay photoshoot no less!! (freakin 2001, people!! pro~photoshoots or sheduling time-slots with an online-famous photog was not a thing. Not yet, not for another few years)

He made all us awkward weebs feel welcome from the get~go! Nobody had internet once left the house. No cellphones. Especially not a phone that could double as a hi-res camera. You came to the convention with a cheap disposable film camera, or none at all – hoping your friends brought one. Conventions didn’t have photo suites, no staff photogs… it was not a thing yet.

The other joke used to be “oh you’re at so-and-so con? Did you run into Kevin yet??” or “no no no, don’t change yet! We need to find Kevin!! You must be documented” (and if you had insane luck, you may even see that photo as convention cosplay coverage in an issue of Animerica months later!) For some of us, the only photos of those early costumes only exist because Kevin was there to take it.

#cosplayhistory

[apopcornkernel]

funnily enough im pretty sure i did read the actual comics before wfa. i vaguely remember reading utrh first? and then i either watched the movie next or read batman's whole robinjay run + aditf + alpod. and then wfa. i only read detective comics' robinjay after i finished wfa i think. i know i also spedran all of the post-crisis jason's death aftermath/appearances according to the reading list by dailyjasontodd. spedran his stuff post-resurrection too, minus countdown, 52, brothers in blood; i only realized I'd already read outsiders before when i reread it just now, though. which is really funny like the reason i remembered was because anissa and grace got together. that's how i knew I'd read the comic before. i was like oh i remember these gay bitches. i know there was a time after comics where i then dove into fandom and just immersed myself with art, fic, and posts. it was a little weird at first but i hadn't read enough for the other characters to know, and it's very easy to get drawn into fanon bc its satisfying to an extent, you know. ooh, i know i read three jokers early on. i was in love with that artist's jason and i found that one panel really funny (babs "he literally killed a man" bruce "you don't understand... jason's suffering"). i dont remember much about my first batman period. i do know it was all batman tho.

this is getting long.

my second batman period (more accurately termed batman/dc) was mostly me revisiting fics and remembering canon things that made me upset again. oh and also other robinjay stories that i hadn't read before like the cult, etc. but after some time i, and i dont know how this happened, got interested in hal jordan. i genuinely think it was just a fanart i saw of him with white temples. i thought it was hot and imagine my delight when i found out it was canon. and then i found out he turned villain and i was like WOAH I NEED TO GET ON THIS and tada, speedran parallax arc all the way to the spectre. tried reading rebirth and hated it so bad. stopped reading hal after that. somewhere along the way i found myself reading superman. then i dont know how this happened but i got interested in matrix/mae kent specifically and read up on her origin. afterwards i went to death of superman all the way to his resurrection and mae/lex breakup arc. i think this period fizzled out shortly after that. ooh, im checking my gallery rn, apparently i also read death metal and the return of bruce wayne. i dont remember anything about the latter. i remember being pissed at the former. i also read the damian resurrection arc and got really mad at an interview in one of the comics bc it was more of those "bruce feels more strongly for damian than his other kids bc damian is his Real Son" like bitch. No.

OH!! i also read the long halloween & dark victory during this time! this must have been when the batman came out. ALSO READ CONNOR!! i started at the time ollie died and went on until the time ollie came back but connor was now comatose (?). i remember a lot of screenshotting panels bc of how appalling the coloring was, connor's skin color was disrespected so much in this few issues 😭

ooh, interesting. after connor panels there's no more until this year, which would be my 3rd dc period. i reread the long halloween and dark victory, and then finished the last few chapters of the spectre. after that i started young justice but never finished. i reread utrh, and then funnily enough went straight to reading all about steph up to war games. after steph i read some other robin tim issues at random and then i finally read brothers in blood. quick break for batman year 100 and then right into batgirl (this was right after lee and i became mutuals). ooh, spirit world. and then ram v's the vigil. then i read rhato special? special? idk if that's the name but it was like a oneshot for rhato? or was it rhato #0? idk. i laughed the entire time. it was so bad. then i read gotham war, hated it. read some issues of black and white. three jokers again. finally read robins by seeley. robin year one. some pre-crisis jason esp the nocturna arc. tt #29. issues of gotham knights #43 something? + the interview about jason issue. actually i think that's all in the same arc. batman prodigal. pre-crisis talia. mandatory reread of batman #496. tried to start countdown, failed. the cult reread. BIRDS OF PREY!! cry of blood, and then a vichelena binge. the huntress cavalieri! the question o'neil! read a lot of huntress. tripped abruptly into hawk and dove, read a lot of cameos after their solos ended. read identity crisis after seeing the bruce tim panel. read jade (nguyen) in preparation for my comm critical essay. read superman again for the invisible mafia. started both superwoman 2016 and steelworks but never finished. read talia lexcorp arc and Never Recovered. tower of babel. redemption lost (ASS). rucka's wonder woman & the hiketeia. some titans bc of jade. more jade stuff. more huntress stuff (specifically nightwing cameos). read tom fucking taylor nightwing. started but did not finish dixon nightwing after that. started a reread of the spectre. started reading azrael + knightfall stuff but am not finished. was hit with the jli disease (lethal). then went back into superman comics but specifically the start of the lex luthor 2 arc + mae :). and now retracing post-rez pre-morrison jason comics

[musings-of-a-lit-student]

The Honeymoon: Part 2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Maus or any of Spiegelman’s work. I have attached the photos from the work itself, but do not claim to own the scanned version either. I highly recommend purchasing the book to support the original author. My thoughts do not represent the author's work and are merely my own interpretations.

Warning: MAUS is a graphic novel based on the author’s father’s experiences during the holocaust and includes anecdotes and scenes including violence, blood which may be considered triggering. 

Introduction: The work MAUS by Art Spiegelman is a novel that tells the story of Vladek Spiegelman and his experiences during the holocaust using an allegory and parallel storylines to depict the Vladek's past and Artie's present as he hears the story from his father. This work includes an autobiographical and biographical element due to the inclusion of two main characters - Vladek and Artie. Spiegelman makes the decision to introduce himself as a character in the work as a mouthpiece for himself.

Main Characters: Artie: The author Vladek: Artie's father Anja: Artie's mother Mala: Vladek's second wife Françoise: Artie's wife

Navigation ->The Honeymoon Masterlist -> Previous Part

MAUS by Art Spiegelman

Points of Interest:

Emanata around Anja

The use of these graphical effects create a scene of shock and hurry which convey the urgency of the situation. Getting recognised means Anja must have been someone of relevance to the party, however the danger associated with her elderly parents and new husband shows the readers the erratic political atmosphere they lived in.

Poles as Police

Spiegelman only depicts all the poles as police, and there are no mice police in the scenes so far. This suggests there was anti-semitism present even before the Nazi's came to enforce it, and while a minor point shows the readers the power dynamics of race. In addition we see the contrast between the pigs and mice in terms of size and stature which further heightens the inequality and vulnerability of the jews.

Drawers

A point to notice is the difference between when Anja arrives, and when the police arrive at the seamstress. Spiegelman shows the pristine drawers before and the ransacked and disorganised drawers after. A single image shows the readers the violence and harsh climate towards communists and the danger Anja might have been in.

Good Girl

Anja loses more of her personality as Vladek dictates the story, the daughter of a rich business man and political rebel (in those times) does not merely give up her goals and ideals. However Vladek's ultimatum suggests there was a lot more complicated emotions involved which left her at a position of vulnerability. The importance of her marriage is evident from the start due to her age, but Vladek's tone suggests a more romantic intention behind her leaving which doesn't add up with the facts of her life. She is now merely a 'good girl' and nothing more.

Jail's Depiction

Spiegelman presents a daunting panel, which is large and tilted bringing the bars to the forefront. The room itself is very dark and even the view outside from the window is obscure creating an unsettling atmosphere. In addition to that the seamstress seems more smaller and weaker while the stripes and hatching is more prevalent than ever.

Business Deal in Silhouette

The silhouette was previously seen in chapter 1 as a sign of reminiscing and being stuck in the past. However here I see it as a more darker counter part to suggest a sinister side to the conversation taking place. Like an olden movie, this scene takes place like a business deal with money being thrown around and lives being gambled with. The expectation of children in the marriage and the casual plan to open a factory shows the readers how Vladek benefited from his marriage to Anja, and the wealth he gained.

Next Part

[aloudplace]

Chapter 17 temperature

At first, he thought she must have ventured into one of the other wings of the bunker. He checked them all.

Nothing.

And then he figured she'd gone outside again for some reason. He put on a pair of ill-fitting leather trousers and went up into the greenhouse.

It was blazing hot, though the sun hung just above the horizon still. He could see it, like a great, searing eye, distorted through the greenhouse panels.

The rows of skeletal trees were just as forlorn and abandoned as they had been before. The dry soil showed two sets of tracks leading up to the door where he stood—and a third set heading out the way they'd come.

Eiara’s footprints.

Where the hell had she gone?

When he reached the broken panel through which they'd entered, he saw it.

The sandy ground outside bore a distinct impression. The three triangular imprints of an Eladani skiff's landing gear.

No.

No no no!

Loklan stepped out of the greenhouse and followed Eiara's trail. Stood there in the searing sunshine for several minutes, mind racing.

Her footprints stopped not far beyond the broken greenhouse panel. Two sets of larger footprints met with Eiara's smaller ones. The dirt where the three came together was disturbed. Like someone had kicked at the ground. Struggled. Been dragged.

They'd taken her. Carried her aboard.

Loklan's world began to crumble, looking out across the barren moon.

He was alone.

Again.

Maybe forever this time.

Rage and anguish gripped him.

Son of a bitch!

"Otyris!" he bellowed, as though the old man could hear him.

Maybe he could. Maybe the Second King of Eladan had been watching all along. Aiming his telescopes and his seers at them without their ever knowing.

But why take her?

Just to punish Loklan?

"You bastard!" He screamed at the sky, knowing it was mad. Pointless. "Bring her back!"

But of course, that wouldn’t happen. If he wanted to see her again, he would have to find a way to return to Eladan himself.

It was stupid. He knew full well what he would be returning to. Otyris's judgment. Imprisonment. Public shame and humiliation.

The gaping absence left by his brother and mother.

Going back wouldn't guarantee that he would be with Eiara, either. If they'd taken her, it was because someone on Asatyru wanted her back. She was a priestess, after all. A powerful healer.

And possibly a wanted criminal.

Even if Otyris permitted Loklan to see her—if they hadn't already returned her to Asatyru—what could come of it?

He was better off in exile.

Yet staying here alone suddenly seemed like a fate worse than death.

No Eiara. Just a barren moon and his own bedeviled company.

It was worse than any prison cell, he realized. Or better, from Otyris's perspective. Because Loklan could never escape and needed no guard. He could receive no visitors, yet he had everything he required to go on living here for years.

Perhaps they would even send him supplies when he ran out. It would be simple enough.

He could live out the rest of his days on this abandoned rock without harming anyone ever again.

The realization made him so furious—so frantic—that he began to pace in the sand like a madman, tearing at his hair and cursing under his breath, grasping wildly for hope.

Eiara wouldn't leave me here, would she? She would insist they bring me back.

No, that's stupid. Why would Otyris agree to that? Just to appease a woman with no memories, who likely committed a crime against the Goddess? A woman who'd been cavorting with the infamous Bastard Prince, like a common whore—

No, they won't blame her for that, will they? She doesn't know what I am—not really.

And then the shock of painful realization.

They would tell her everything he’d done.

It pierced his heart like Alistair’s dueling blade all over again.

She would know. Otyris would tell her everything and she would... but she claimed to love him. And he believed it, despite himself. Despite everything.

Would that just go away? Would she care about his past?

Would she be sent back to Asatyru? Or perhaps Otyris would put her in prison for whatever she’d done to get herself wiped.

Fuck!

He couldn't stand it—the thought of Eiara in a prison cell alone. Suffering as he had suffered.

"Otyris!—please!" he cried, looking up helplessly at the blank white sky. Not caring that he was begging. Not caring that his return to Eladan might result in even greater heartbreak.

Because he did love her.

How long had they been here together? A few weeks? And they'd been making love for only three days.

Three days of her body, her tenderness, her cries of pleasure. Three pathetic little days, and he was in love. It wasn't just stupid—it was positively moronic.

But it was true.

The pain of her loss was proof enough.

"Father," he said in utter defeat, speaking to the desert. The sky. To nothing and no one.

"Please," he whispered. "Please. Don't leave me here like this!"

But of course, there was no answer.

***

Three days later, the Eladani skiff returned.

Otyris' guards dragged the Bastard Prince from the bed where he and Eiara had slept. At first, the two men shrunk from his Zenopelti form in shock and confusion.

And disgust?

Loklan didn’t care. He was stiff and cold with rage.

He hadn't slept or eaten since Eiara had been taken. For the first day and most of the second, he'd been anxious and restless. Pacing, thinking. Cursing Otyris. Cursing himself. Agonizing over what they would do with Eiara. Wondering if she had already been sent back to Asatyru. If they’d hurt her. If he would see her again.

After that, he'd settled into stony resignation, emotions hardening to an icy crust on his heart.

He began to wish he’d never met her. That she hadn’t been there to save him. To love him and make him feel again.

Pleasure. Joy.

Hope.

It should have ended with Alistair. With that sword in my chest.

I should have died.

But then his father’s men appeared in their black and gold livery. He heard their heavy bootsteps in the hallway outside and thought it was a hallucination.

They announced that his father had summoned him back to Elandan.

Why? To face justice?

They didn’t say.

They bundled him to the skiff and flew him home.

He arrived on Eladan shirtless, still in the same ill-fitting leather trousers, and stood before Otyris and his private guard.

Only his father—perched on his dais in ceremonial black and gold robes as though this were some grand event—failed to react openly to Loklan's Zenopelti form. A few of the guards gasped. Otyris's pale eyes widened, but his craggy face remained otherwise still, white hair slicked back under his crystal-tipped crown.

The richness of his dress and the throne room itself—the marble pillars and the golden arches above them, the blue sky peeking beyond the high windows—was both familiar and strange after weeks on Asatyru’s desert moon.

Everything glittered blindingly.

Loklan hated it.

He felt no shame, standing before them all in his true form. Only that cold, cold rage and a vicious gratification at their discomfort. Especially his father’s.

Here I am, old man. Your shameful secret come to light. How does it feel?

"Loklan." Otyris’ voice echoed with authority. And something else.

Was that... regret?

"Otyris," Loklan answered smoothly, though his voice rang with disdain. "So kind of you to fetch me back. Shall I return to my cell? Or perhaps an execution is in order."

The Second King of Eladan regarded Loklan silently, as though gauging his response.

"We believed you dead," he said finally.

"Dreadfully sorry to disappoint."

Otyris' eyes flickered with some emotion Loklan couldn't place. "We know of your service to the Goddess."

Loklan laughed bitterly. “What have I ever done to serve the Goddess?”

This seemed to surprise Otyris even more than Loklan's Zenopelti form. Behind him, the guards exchanged a look. Disdain? Confusion?

Loklan didn't give a damn.

“Where's Eiara?" he demanded.

A pause. Loklan could see the calculation in Otyris’ eyes.

"She is here, in the palace."

Relief drained some of Loklan's anger. Not all though. Not nearly.

"What have you done to her?"

Otyris's brows lifted. "Done to her? I've done nothing. She is well and safe."

"And her memories?" Loklan demanded.

"Her memories have been returned."

Loklan cursed, surging forward a step. The guards tensed, hands to their weapons.

"She didn't want them back!" he snarled.

"Her wishes were unfortunately moot on that point," the old man replied levelly. "It was essential that we know what happened to her on Asatyru."

Loklan was shocked to find his eyes burning as rage and dismay chased themselves around his heart in an agonizing loop. "Why?" he spat. "What benefit was there in forcing her to remember? Some political gains in your relations with the Asatyri?"

Otyris' face remained still, but his blue eyes sparked with anger. Still, there was that odd little ghost of something else. Not regret, but maybe...sadness?

"Perhaps you should speak with Lady Eiar yourself on that count," the old man replied.

Loklan glared. What the hell is going on here?

“You’ll allow me to see her?” he said with suspicion.

Otyris nodded once. “It is her wish.”

Loklan’s suspicion increased, warring with other feelings.

The thought of facing Eiara now was horrible. Loklan's heart shrank from the prospect and at the same time began to ache—indeed, to burn—with longing.

"And how shall I accomplish that?" he hissed. "Will you send her to visit me in my cell?"

"There will be no cell, Loklan. You will return to the palace."

Loklan's anger faltered under a bright surge of shock. "What?"

"Your sentence has been commuted," Otyris returned. "Eladan welcomes you home."

The words rang loudly in the room, heavy with import.

Stunned, Loklan could only stare. His thoughts tumbled, heart expanding and contracting at once.

His sentence was commuted? Elandan welcomed him?

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Otyris once again regarded him in inscrutable silence. Loklan had almost forgotten how much he hated his father’s silences. The penetrating, ever-impassive gaze.

How many times had he acted out as a child just to see those blue eyes fall upon him with something other than this coldness?

“The kingdoms have been in a panic since the day you disappeared,” Otyris said.

Loklan’s bewilderment deepened. “Why?”

The pale blue eyes were unwavering. “Because on that day, the Goddess also disappeared from Her temple on Asatyru.”

Everything inside Loklan stilled.

The Goddess…?

“In our search for Her,” said the Second King of Eladan, “we also found you.”

The words struck him like a slap.

No.

No, it can’t be.

Loklan shook his head. Opened his mouth.

No words came.

Otyris continued, unaware or uncaring of Loklan’s state of paralyzed denial.

“For your compassion,” said the old man, “and for your care of our Goddess in her most vulnerable state, your crimes against the Second Kingdom of Eladan are forgiven.”

[autolovecraft]

Birch, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.

He was a scoundrel, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself.

Birch, though dreading the bother of removal and interment, began his task of transference one disagreeable April morning, but ceased before noon because of a heavy rain that seemed to irritate his horse, after having laid but one mortal tenant to its permanent rest. Birch still toiling. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant.

I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here. An eye for an eye! The air had begun to be exceedingly unwholesome; but to this detail he paid no attention as he toiled, half by feeling, at the heavy and corroded metal of the latch. Why did you do it, Birch? Birch heeded this advice all the rest of his life till he told me his story; and when I saw the scars—ancient and whitened as they then were—I agreed that he was reduced to a profane fumbling as he made his halting way among the long boxes toward the latch.

Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago. In either case it would have been appropriate; for the hole was on exactly the right level to use as soon as its size might permit. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and was concerned only in getting the right coffin for the right grave.

Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. It was just as he had recognized old Matt's coffin that the door slammed to in the wind, leaving him in a dusk even deeper than before. Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago. At last the spring thaw came, and graves were laboriously prepared for the nine silent harvests of the grim reaper which waited in the tomb, and the emerging moon must have witnessed a horrible sight as he dragged his bleeding ankles toward the cemetery lodge; his fingers clawing the black mold in brainless haste, and his aching arms rested by a pause during which he sat on the bottom box to gather strength for the final wriggle and leap to the ground outside. As his hammer blows began to fall, the horse outside whinnied in a tone which may have been encouraging and to others may have been encouraging and to others may have been just fear, and it may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb, and the overhead ventilation funnel virtually none at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. Birch, though dreading the bother of removal and interment, began his task of transference one disagreeable April morning, but ceased before noon because of a heavy rain that seemed to irritate his horse, after having laid but one mortal tenant to its permanent rest. He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. He confided in me because I was his doctor, and because he probably felt the need of confiding in someone else after Davis died. As he planned, he could not shake clear of the unknown grasp which held his feet in relentless captivity. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. This arrangement could be ascended with a minimum of awkwardness, and would furnish the desired height.

[bedlessbug]

yesterday my flat mates and I visited the abandoned lot across the road from our city-centre dwelling. the council frequents the large property to control overgrowth with chemicals, yet curiously turns a blind-eye to the squatting inhabitants of the chapel there.

built in 1927, the chapel is the sole remaining structure on the previously ecclesiastical site. after the bishops' former home was destroyed by fire in 1924, the chapel was constructed alongside an adjoining dwelling (now demolished). prior to the earthquakes the chapel remained a place of worship, having been redeveloped by the Social Services Council when they took ownership of the land and on it built a retirement home which was damaged in the earthquakes and is now too demolished. all which remains is the small house of worship.

we enter the property through the apartment complex that borders it's east side. a small gap in the fence allows only the entry of malnourished squatters or us poor, slim renters. it is a concrete field sprouting familiar weeds; tall, strong and green or withered and dying, depending on the councils last weed destroying escapade. the chapel is lazily cordoned off. the only obstacle in accessing the interior is continually thickening raspberry vine. give it two weeks and the berries will have ripened.

inside a crumpled Cody's can lies to the left. along the floor of the dusty gallery, keys and an electric cable. draped over the pews which boarder either side is an assortment of clothes - floral prints, a plastic anorak, musty t-shirts, and many socks. before the pulpit: to the right, a weathered cardboard box containing bibles and prayer books; to the left, a discarded pair of The Simpsons boxers and numbered pieces of black card.

the Christchurch City Councils Heritage Assessment document remarks the elaborate interior: "with a vaulted wagon roof and panelled walls of black pine, coupled with decorative carvings and mouldings".

since i dwell not in an abandoned chapel (though the romance of it) but in a home, with my own keys, electrical cables and musty clothes, i need not for these items left behind. but with my inclination for the aesthetic and love for god in mind, you must understand my desire for the finer objects inside. i took home with me a missal stand of deep, delicious polished pine. two ornate carvings on heavy bases collected pigeon shit in either corner of the gallery, and altar rails, stacked neatly at the back of the raised nave - these came home with me too.

outside a friend dug up dahlias, we carted them away in buckets. my flat mate found a ladder - finally, the 'ladder guy' he always dreamed of becoming. my other flat mate looked like Jesus carrying the cross upon calvary, the sun setting behind them, as they stumbled across the concrete plateau assisting the heavy heist.

though i feel an inkling of spiritual guilt in that we stole from a place of worship, i remedy this by reminding myself that if we are made in Gods image - he being creator - then would he not excuse this petty theft in the name of creation itself?

[atozphantomsquadron]

Chapter 18: Retribution

July 17th

Midnight falls.  Just as I get through the back door of the first building, it does as well, in a fiery heap of destruction.  I’m now beyond caring who sees me.  This attack is in full swing.

More rank-and-files appear, guns drawn, scrambling to meet me.  A few can see the rage in my face and scramble away just as fast as they mustered to confront me.  Those that stay are no match for me.  I’ve discovered this early in this night of chaos.  I don’t even need the Guardswoman to defeat this force: all it takes is my wings and my fire, and they’re down.

A few rush me.  I respond in kind, knocking them aside.  They won’t stop me from crossing this compound, from getting into the next building.

One down, five to go.

I reach the door of the next building, blasting it off of the hinges with flames.  This one contains holding cells: I can see many scared supernaturals being held here, some of them apparently on their last legs.  From what I saw in the hospital wing, I’m not surprised.

I search a nearby wall for any controls or keys to cells.  An electronic panel greets me, asking for retinal scans and fingerprints.

I want you to know exactly who is defeating you tonight.  I want you to know who you’ll have to kill to stop.

I allow the panel to scan my eye.  Just as it identifies me, I blow it out of the wall.  Once the panel is out of commission all of the locks in this building open.  The supernaturals pour out of the cells.  Many of them recognize me, and are happy to see me.  Several of them pull me in different directions, hoping I’ll give them some word of the outside, some hope that the New Empire is weakening.  I’m so numb that I can’t even feel any of it.  Eventually I realize that I’ll need this impromptu army to help me.  I raise my hands to get their attention, which quiets them all down.

“I need your help.  Together, we have enough power to destroy this entire facility.  That’s my goal tonight, to make sure no more supernaturals get brainwashed into fighting their own ever again.  To do that, we must take this facility down to rubble.  Are you with me?”

A loud cheer erupts.

“Good!  We go building-by-building.  No mercy.  That’s the least we can give back to those who would corrupt, enslave, or murder us.  Everyone, come with me!”

I lead the entire group out the door that I came through to enter.  Talking amongst them, I try to find out who has what power.  Eventually I find a blaster, who cheerfully knocks holes in the holding pen until it, like the hospital, is stone and concrete rubble.  The destruction is accompanied by more blueshirts, and now there’s a couple of supernaturals with them, trying to suppress us with powers.

I draw the Sword and lead my own troops into battle.  The Sword swings around and cuts into several blueshirts, knocking them to either side where others of the supernaturals take over.  I reach the first supernatural blueshirt.

He has no scar!

This is upsetting: I’ll have to fight a completely corrupted supernatural, who apparently believes in the New Empire cause.  This blueshirt whips his arms out in front of him, which form long, narrow blades.

I wonder …

The question doesn’t even have time to form before he answers it.  “You killed my sister, bitch!”

He’s Yolanda French’s brother.  The power is just too similar; I thought he had to be related.  He rushes and swings both blades at me, which I can easily parry; while he has strength, he has no skill at fencing.  His arm-blades clang against the Sword, sending loud reports over the din of battle.  I hold him at a disadvantage when he lunges quickly and loses his balance, falling flat on his face.  I know I should stop the Guardswoman, should reassert control, but I can’t bring myself to do it as she runs him through, pinning him to the ground.  When he stops writhing, I withdraw the Sword from his back and continue into the melee.

It seems that my forces must have been too weakened by torture to put up an effective fight, as several of them now lie dead.  The cause is the other supernatural blueshirt, another one with no scar, who is spraying some weird fluid from his hands.  Droplets of it strike the Guardswoman’s chestplate and instantly begin heating it beyond comfort.

Acid?

Do I dare fight him with the Sword?  I’m once again at a crossroads: I don’t want to damage the weapon, or destroy it, but I can’t let this blueshirt continue cutting through my forces.

“Concussion!”

A familiar voice cuts through the din, which is followed by a heavy pillar of air that knocks Acid Boy backward, splashing him in the face with his own power.  He screams and retreats, hands covering his eyes.

I sheathe the Sword and turn to see where the wave came from.  My heart drops, but jumps at the same time.

It’s Michi.

“No, no, no, you guys aren’t supposed to be here!”  I scream toward her, trying to shoo her away.  “Don’t you understand, I’m going to get killed here!”

She approaches me and my impromptu army, and through the smoke I can see the others as well … Fahaian with his lighter, William with his eyes shining with concern …

… and one pissed-off-beyond-belief Gabe Francis.  He marches right to the front of the group, ahead of Michi, and gets right in my face.

“I’ve served with your family for too long, Alanna, I know what your tendencies are.  Sharpes throughout history have barged into battles, most of them far more prepared than you, and have ended up injured, dismembered, or dead because they didn’t think things through, didn’t use their allies, or didn’t think of anyone but themselves!  I want answers right now!  What in the HELL do you think you’re doing here?!”

I push Gabe away, angry.  “What are you guys doing here?  I left so that you would be out of harm’s way, not so you could follow me!”

William groans sadly … either that or his ribs are still hurting from Chicago.  “If you’re going to do this for that reason, don’t put in your good-bye note where you’re going.”

Fahaian walks up.  “And don’t start your attack with fire, especially when one of the allies you’re trying to protect is telepyretic.”

Damn.  Fahaian brought them here using the hospital building fire.  I should’ve thought of that, but my rage was just blinding me.  Gabe, though, is still angry, and grabs my arm.

“What good are you going to be getting killed?  Without you, there’s no Guardsman, without you there’s no hope!”

I try to wrestle my arm out of Gabe’s grip, but it’s so strong …

“Leave me alone, Gabe!  Let me do this, I can’t risk you guys getting hurt …”

Michi surprises me by slapping me across the face.  “Haven’t you figured it out yet?  We’re your friends.  Some of us are more than that, to some of us you’re family!  Most of all, we’re all supernaturals here, and if we’re with you it’s because we choose the risk!”  She grabs my collar and shakes me as she screams in my face.  “WE LOVE YOU, ALANNA!  FIGURE IT THE FUCK OUT!”

It takes that for my rage to finally snap.  My breathing’s coming in quick gasps.

What have I done?

Michi’s crying.  Gabe, sensing he doesn’t need it anymore, releases his grip on my arm.  I use my freshly-freed limb to wrap myself around my despondent best friend, my own emotions regaining their ability to make me feel.

“I’m so sorry, Michi … I didn’t want this … didn’t want to put you guys in danger …”

Gabe, for his part, at least is still aware of the situation.  “Well, we’re here now.  What was your plan?

A couple of the supernaturals I freed from the cells walk up to us.  One of them, the blaster who knocked the building down, responds.  “She wanted to go through all the buildings and destroy them.  She said we’d be able to escape with her …”

Gabe smirks.  “You still can.  Fahaian, could you do the honors?”

Fahaian nods.  “Follow me, all of you.”  He walks past me, but pauses to place a hand on my shoulder.  “Good luck, Alanna, my friend.  May Aten and Zoroaster smile on you this night.”

I clutch Fahaian’s hand briefly, then let him continue walking toward the fire, no doubt to transport those lucky souls who survived to the Ranch.  William walks up to us, as I feel I can finally release the sniffling Michi.

Gabe is the first to break the silence.  “Okay, you want to destroy this facility?  Let’s do it right.  We do this with a plan and a guide.  I can tell you which buildings you want to destroy.”

I clear my throat.  “Gabe, with all due respect … I need you to take the others and wreck all the other buildings, after you tell me which one houses the command offices.”

Gabe’s face drops.  “He’s here, isn’t he?”  I don’t answer.  I don’t need to.  He gets a resigned look on his face, rubs his temples, then points behind me.  “Three buildings down, Alanna.  We’ll give you an escort.”

I raise a questioning eyebrow.  “You won’t stop me?”

Gabe grumbles.  “As much as I would really love to, as much as I’d love to just kick your butt for pulling this stunt … I don’t think I can do much to prevent you, because you’ll find a way around any roadblocks I put up anyway.  Go fight him.  We’ll back you up as soon as we can.”

William and Michi’s faces both reflect concern.  Michi pipes up.  “Scolar?”

I nod.  “I have to face him.”  I hug Michi, then turn to William.  “It’s the only way, William, I’m sorry.  I can’t let him and his troops hurt any more supernaturals.”

He nods quietly.  Suddenly, I’m back in his arms.  His eyes have an intense look.

“Give as good as you get, Alanna.  Come back to us.  Come back to me.”

At this moment, I realize exactly what it is I’m risking with this fight, more than I did when I wrote the note three days ago.  A tear rolls down William’s face.

I have to do it.

I kiss William … one last kiss before my doom.  We keep our lips locked for a long period of time, before I slide down his body and back on my feet.  By the time I’ve straightened out and started moving, he’s already halfway to his wendigo form.  Michi is just polishing off a can of spinach.  She’s ready for action, and expecting to give a lot of blood to the gauntlet in order to stay in action.  Gabe, to my surprise, pulls an automatic pistol out of his coat.  I’ve never seen him armed in my life.

Now or never.  I draw the Sword and lead us into battle.

[nenithil]

A detail in smartpass about Hanji and Erwin

Although there is no direct interaction between Erwin and Hanji, I found it interesting

Late Night Stories Vol. 07 Nifa “A Story of a Misunderstanding”：

https://snk-smartpass.tumblr.com/post/187937524480/late-night-stories-vol-07-nifa-a-story-of-a

The next day, Erwin spoke to Nifa as he wore a cheerful expression on his face.

“Nifa. Reading that letter yesterday made me glad to be the Commander.”

“Excuse me?”

“‘Seeing how youthful and active you always are gives me energy! Please solve the mysteries of the world!’ …That’s what it said. It made me feel determined all over again.”

“Oh.”

The letter had been addressed to Hange. While Nifa had broken out in a cold sweat, it was also rare to see the Commander in such a good mood. Was it the “youthful” part that made him happy?

This is a letter of praise from a citizen to Hanji, but Erwin made a mistake and felt very happy and excited

(——It reminds me of what I have always thought. Erwin admires Hanji's personality and he kind of wished that he could be like Hanji at least in the eyes of others)

“By the way, that would mean…Hange got a letter addressed to either the Commander or the Captain.”

“Oh, Hange would happily accept any compliment. They’re so positive that they could be called 'humanity’s strongest’ and take it as honest praise.”

“I knew it had gone to the wrong person, you know.”

“What?” Hange’s subordinates said as their eyes opened wide. Hange looked up from the papers and put their glasses back on.

“Why wouldn’t I be happy to know that my corpsmates are being praised by citizens?”

“So you do have a human heart, Hange…”

(——Hanji also received a wrong thank-you letter, but she easily saw that it was sent wrong. As always, it shows her calmness and "instant judgment."

“So you do have a human heart, Hange…”——This must be mock of Moblit. Why are his words always so funny Lmao)

This reminds me of a scene in the manga: Erwin was very excited when the people cheered the Survey Corps

——This is the first time that the Survey Corps has been popular.

The sentence sounds indifferent but actually very sad. For more than ten years, Erwin has been fighting in Survey Corps and watched his comrades sacrifice everything for mankind, but the citizens have never given them recognition and respect

Maybe they once praised Erwin as Squad Leader, but he knew that they just used him to satirize the Commander Keith. And once he came back from his defeat in the battle, the ridicules and questions waiting for him were also harsh

He said that he "swindled my comrade sand swindled himself" that they fought for the sake of mankind, but when citizens themselves are so harsh, how can such "swindle" be valid for a long time? His blood has long been colder, but he will still feel childish excitement in such a scene

From the surprised expressions of levihan and other veteran, I think that maybe no veteran takes these seriously like him

It's particularly interesting that the cheers of citizens are mainly for Levi and Hanji. They established a good relationship with the people during the coup, which can also be said that they have established the legitimacy of the new government. However, the two were very calm in the cheers of the people and were still murmuring:

Levi: They talked so self-willedly.

They are well aware that they cheered because they did not understand the situation and were too optimistic influenced by incomplete information . This kind of hero worship has nothing to do with themselves. Just as Levi was indifferent to the cheers of youngsters before.

The only veteran who was genuinely excited was Erwin. He who has the power to stir up fanaticism in others is also more likely to get into play and excitement than others. He is really childish in this respect

Of course, Hanji also wants recognition. She is lack of self-confident and almost always lonely, but maybe she needs to be recognized by someone who understand her and has similar ideas to her, such as journalist. This make her feel "supported". It's cute that she even blushed

——As my friend said, Erwin needs more trust and praise, while Hanji cares more about understanding and support.

Anyway, I think Commander Hanji has been trusted and respected very much by the citizens over the past five years. Although it's sorry to watch the panels of her being pressed by the public, but their ways of questioning I think are relatively mild

Fregel: I understand that Hanji San's position is hard. So please look at me in the eyes and say, just trust me.

——They wouldn't have said such words if they hadn't fully trusted her honesty

Hanji: Everything we do is for people of Eldia's sake

Hanji looked very tired, but the people who listened to her did not continue to make noise

Comparing the people outside the office of President Zackley... Ehhhh..

This is the result of Hanji's sincerity and integrity.

She always tried to stand on the citizen's position and convey their ideas and needs to the government even after the death of President Zackley

Pity that they would never have a chance to deeply exchange their doubts and feelings after.

[cafeacademia]

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

Navigation

A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game  of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow​ @megantje123​ @anchoeritic​ @struggling-bee​​

[sagendipity]

the law of attraction: de minimis

a quackity x reader law school au

part one, chapter one

[PREV] | [NEXT]

.

The first myth about law school is that everyone is the same.

In movies, in TV shows, in books- everyone in law school is a certain type of person. Dangerously smart, hardworking to a fault, and absolutely cutthroat.

Now, that is true. To get this far, to get into a competitive law school and make it to your final year, you have to be all of the above. Smart, hardworking, and just a little cunning. It’s impossible to get a leg up unless you’re standing on someone else’s knee.

Or neck.

However, the fact that everyone here has to have a certain few traits in order to survive does not mean that they cannot have other traits.

Some are louder, exuberant, and competitive- the type to yell out the answer to a question before raising their hand, the type to go back and forth with the professor when they’re sure they’re right (and they’re not). There’s the introverts, the sly ones you never see coming, who you barely notice next to you all year until you glance over at the grade on their final and it’s a 110%, somehow.

Of course, there’s also the in-between. The respectable ones, the students that are just there to get through the classes they need and get a respectable job at a respectable law firm and make something nice out of their lives.

Or the hero type, the ones that are convinced they can fix any injustice they perceive in the world- the environmental lawyers, the criminal defense lawyers, the civil rights lawyers. They might be right, too, which is why it seems like a never-ending flow of them are pouring into the school at each orientation.

It’s not always as simple as that, of course. You, like many students, are a mix of a few types. You lie somewhere between the exuberant and introverted sides, not shy about answering questions in lectures, but not jumping the gun to cause discourse, either. A bit of a hero type, you must admit, but you do pride yourself on being reasonable when it comes to your life’s expectations. You don’t expect to become some William Kunstler. You work hard, you get shit done, and like law school has a tendency to do, it seems to become your whole entire life.

The type of person you never quite got a read on is Alex.

He’s been sitting next to you in your upper level criminal procedure class for the entire semester. A whole semester’s worth of lectures means you have plenty of time to observe and analyze the people in your classes- its not like there’s anything else to do when the professor is going over voir dire for the third hour that week.

You pegged the kid in the third row as a die-hard businessman. He’s not going into law to help people, he’s going into law to make the most profit off of the most vulnerable clients he can find. The girl in row six, however, is definitely the hero type, judging by her “save the oceans” stickers on her giant re-usable coffee cups.

Alex, though, you can’t read. He dresses down compared to the other students. They dress up to hide their shortcomings, like their fancy coats can stop them from feeling bad about their less-than-adequate qualifications for the internship they just applied for. Others just like to lean into the New York City aesthetic and dress like they’re already lawyers, even despite failing their last midterm. You fall into that category- you can’t help it, it’s a fun look- but hey, you definitely didn’t fail your midterm, and you’ve lived in New York your whole life, so you think you have the right to dress like that.

Alex dresses like he has nothing to hide. He dresses like the young, high-level professor who is always cracked out on Redbull and hasn’t graded a paper in his life; like the cute, fascinating barista at the local hipster coffee shop you can barely afford. He dresses like that one guy you’d see on the subway one day and never manage to forget because of how his eyes met yours for a split second.

To be fair, that is kind of how it’s gone. It’s not exactly like the two of you met on the subway, and you’ve definitely interacted more than just a passing glance, but goddammit is Alex stuck in your head.

You convince yourself it’s just because he’s such a mystery. It’s not because he has really sweet brown eyes, or the most charming, unruly hair you’ve seen this side of the Midwest. It’s not because he whispers a joke under his breath whenever your professor says something stupid, or because he bumps your ankles together and shares an amused glance with you when that one really annoying kid pipes up with an opinion no one wanted.

It’s just because you don’t know why he’s here, and you don’t know what he wants, and you don’t know how to read him.

It bugs you. It gets under your skin- not like an itch, more like a hum. He’s on the back of your mind constantly, like you’re trying to subconsciously figure out what’s up with him, but to this day you’ve had no success.

It’s not like you think about anything substantial in regards to him- every time your traitorous brain brings him up, you put it down quicker than it came up. Getting attached to people is dangerous in the best of circumstances, but getting attached to the absolute enigma of a guy in your criminal procedure class who you can’t even confidently say is named Alex would be equivalent to signing up for heartbreak.

“Don’t date law boys,” your roommate had lamented after she had done just that, laid across her rose-pink bedspread with a sleeve of crackers clutched in one hand and a tissue in the other. She had then blown her nose unattractively. “Lawyers have a reputation for being soulless for a reason. They’re only here for themselves. Fuck them.”

Despite that, you find yourself friends with Alex. As if you’d be able to resist the self-satisfied grins he flashes at you when the professor praises him for a particularly poignant answer, or the way he holds his hand out under the table for a high-five after you nail the answer to a cold call. You barely know anything about him, and yet, you know enough to decide he’s a good person.

“Alex”, whose name you’re only about 80% sure of- maybe it’s short for Alexander, but you thought you’d heard someone he was on the phone with call him Q, so maybe he’s a Quinn or a Quentin?

“Alex”, who shows up looking more comfortable than you’ve been in your entire life, and still manages to hold an air of confidence around him that you’d not be able to master even in your finest long coat and shirt.

“Alex”, who seems determined to wiggle his way into your heart in any way he can.

“Alex”, who you seem to be powerless to resist.

.

This growing attachment to Alex of yours is only strengthened with each lecture. You share this class three times a week, two hours each on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s a focus class, meaning that anyone who wants to go into criminal work should take this course. It’s challenging, it’s competitive, and it’s cutthroat.

And it’s only February.

A cold Monday morning in February, in fact, with the clock above your professor’s desk ticking obnoxiously as the big hand nears the 8. Outside, it’s downright miserable: windy and foggy. The outside of the paneled windows of the classroom are glazed in a sticky frost, reducing the figures of passing students to dull blobs as they hurry through the whipping wind to get to their classes.

The big doors at the back of the classroom close with a bang that reverberates throughout the lecture hall, cutting through the murmuring chatter of the students who are already here. Out of the corner of your eye you catch a flash of green- as you suspect, it’s Alex. He always takes the seat on the very end of the row, and you the one immediately to his right. You look up at him with what you hope is a casual smile, but the one he returns is so bright it could probably melt the frost off of the windows.

“Hey!” he says, too awake for 8 in the morning, and sets his binder down on the desk with a clatter. The whoosh of air rustles the paper of your notebook, which you smooth back down habitually. You watch Alex longer than you should, only tearing your gaze away after you notice the smattering of tiny snowflakes that have gathered atop the beanie he’s wearing.

You stifle a little laugh. This guy wears a beanie to law school.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he settles into his seat. He shrugs off his hunter green jacket, leaving him in just a gray hoodie, dotted with darker spots from melting snowflakes that’d been blown into him. He drops his outer jacket across his lap just as the room goes silent, your professor walking up to his desk.

As the last tails of conversations die off, you turn to Alex, unable to help yourself, “You have… snowflakes, on your head.”

He glances at you, a little huff of laughter escaping him as he brings up a hand to smooth over the beanie. The snowflakes are swiped off, melting on the heat of his hand- you wonder how it would feel held in yours, probably warm, he looks like he runs hot- and you pry your eyes away as he straightens out his beanie and tucks his hair up into the brim of it. He misses a strand, and the black swoop stands out sharply against the frost-paled skin of his face.

“Happy February,” your professor begins, his microphone crackling to life. “The month of love, is it not? Just two weeks until Valentines day.”

He swings his bag up onto the stool next to him, the sound echoing through the microphone. He turns to face the lecture hall, arms spread as if welcoming you all to a talk show.

“I’m about to ruin all of your Valentines Day plans. Welcome to the start of your final project: the mock trial.”

.

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Impasse - A Vaderdala Oneshot

“You forget something, Lord Vader.”

Vader flinched, the voice as clear as a bell yet as foreign as the icy vacuum of space. He found himself frozen in place, the bulk of his hefty frame suddenly unbearable. Inside his chest, he felt the searing fingers of remorse and the scalding flames of rage warring for control. 

Against better judgment, he shifted to turn around. Against better judgment, he let down his guard and ignored unclipping his lightsaber. He knew the face he would find before he saw it, but he was still not prepared for the wave of emotion that spilled forth as he came face to face with his own ghosts. This one, he had expected long dead and buried.

“Padmé,” he gasped, but the voice that came out was blunt and deep and void of affection.

Still, the shock bled through. Padmé was as beautiful as the day he’d last seen her. Eyes fierce and determined, dark hair coming loose from her neatly tied bun. Her face was set in a scowl, blaster drawn and aiming straight for the chest panel on Vader’s chest as if it were a marked target meant for practice and precision fire. The air had shifted, the tension thick and heavy and oppressive as they stared each other down. No, more accurately Padmé’s intense, fiery glare was bearing down on Vader. Vader felt his anger dissipate the moment he met that stare; the ice cold regret and guilt crippling him inside out as it won the impasse.

“You said you had come to destroy the Rebellion. I am the last leader standing here. I alone. Will you destroy me now?” Padmé hissed through a clenched jaw, cheeks flushed but her hands steady.

Vader was familiar with the vow he had made, but now it seemed an impossible lie. Before his mind’s eye, he had envisioned old men and snot nosed kids. Politicians and traitors and cowards, incapable of accepting the Emperor’s grand design and his expert vision. The future was bright, the Sith had reclaimed their natural state in the circle of life - atop the ladder. Only fools and children would oppose such an evident supply of unlimited power. Yet, Padmé seemed to care for none of these things. Time had not slowed her down, it had not thawed the ice built in her heart - the ice Vader himself had put there.

“Well?” she pressed, voice tight, calm and collected.

The words escaped before Vader had any chance to rein himself in. Perhaps he never intended to.

“No.”

“No?” she repeated, as if mocking him but her expression revealed surprise and disbelief.

“Aren’t you here to execute your Rebel traitors?”

Vader said nothing, instead he reached for the saber strapped to his belt. He watched Padmé tense, watched her shoulder come up and the finger on the trigger twitch. In what might have been a gesture of surrender, he simply tossed his weapon between them. The gesture was barely a flick of his wrist, but it sent the hilt skidding across the smooth floors until it came to an premeditated gentle stop at Padmé’s feet. She glanced down to regard the token, an unreadable tinge of something somber gleaming in her eyes for a split second. When she looked back up, Vader had not moved. He stood with his hands at his sides, the bombardment outside the underground bunker shaking its hull; straining the already flickering lights.

“I will not fight you,” said Vader finally, as if that would be enough to soothe the woman’s stubborn spirits.

She furrowed her brow, the corner of her lips curling into a half sneer of disgust. It stung, and Vader might have recoiled from that alone had he not been the man he was. Changed, remolded and retooled. His heart had been ripped out once, and still Padmé’s presence willed its withered carcass to beat and blossom. At the same time, she tore it to shreds once more with the disdain her face held for him. He sensed it inside her, swirling and expanding into a palpable loathing. It cloaked her, surrounded her like a cloud. It reeked of pain, sorrow, and betrayal.

“You don’t know me. If you won’t fight, I will,” she said, every word calculated and sincere.

“‘Aggressive negotiations’.”

It was merely a statement, but its meaning rang true. Padmé straightened up, eyes suddenly wide as a ghost of horrified recognition filtered past her defenses. it was gone in the blink of an eye, but the colour that had drained from her already pale face was harder to conceal.

“Who told you?” she snarled, shifting the aim of her blaster towards Vader’s heart - knowing it would do no harm, but the gesture hit him like a slap across the face either way.

She was questioning how he had learned about her and The Jedi. Anakin Skywalker, her husband. Perhaps she had her sneaking suspicions, she must. But her aura betrayed none of it, it remained outraged and unsettled and adamant in her quest.

“You did.”

Padmé opened her mouth to deliver another scathing retort, but she snapped it close again. A tremor passed her slight frame, and it did not go unnoticed. Her resolve was faltering and waning, the lie she had convinced herself to believe no less a stretch of the imagination than the mental gymnastics Vader himself had been performing for the past four years. Ever since Mustafar, ever since he lost everything. Now, that very everything lost stood before him. Now, she was once more within his reach.

“I’m sorry. I tried,” he heard himself say, a feeble apology not nearly sufficient to excuse the heinous acts he had committed.

The voice was still not his own, but the words were earnest. Padmé lowered her blaster in slow, jerky motions but her eyes were transfixed on his. At the very least, Vader felt their gaze burn straight into his soul; into the furnace of his heart that had frozen over a million times. 

“You’re safe.”

It was a ridiculous profession, Padmé’s very existence as part of the Rebellion was a death sentence. But she was alive, she was well and healthy and stable and here. She had not died. He had failed her, but she had lived. He took one step towards her, feeling just as wary and insecure as she looked. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head in a tiny micromovement. She mouthed something, but there was no sound accompanying the motion. Vader understood her fear, yet it pained him to no end. He was unrecognizable, locked within this jettblack prison of durasteel, cybernetics and synth flesh. There was so little left of his physical body, and even less of the man Padmé had once loved.

“It can’t be…” she whispered, hoarse as the tendons at the sides of her neck strained.

Vader felt the urge to cry, an urge so overpowering. An urge that had not found him since Mustafar, since the fall of the Jedi and the Republic. He had no tears to cry, no measure to shed tears by. His retinas, his tear ducts were long since eaten away by flames and embers. Still, his eyes stung. A warmth pressed behind them, a heaviness bearing down on his chest like a fist squeezing the air out of his lungs. Lungs he no longer had.

“Do what you must. I am not afraid to die.”

Padmé’s eyes widened, mouth falling open as realization dawned upon her. She understood. Vader expected her to back away, expected her to cry, to yell, to fire. Anything. Instead, she stood stone faced. As frail as porcelain, yet as sturdy as the brightest star in the Galaxy. Now, she took a step towards him. Then another. Closing the gap, inch by inch, foot by foot. She tipped her head back, never once drawing her eyes from the opaque crimson lenses of Vader’s eyes that substituted eyes. They served for the damaged, half blind eyes hidden behind.

“What have they done to you?” Padmé’s resolute voice murmured; full of compassion and love, emotions that seemed to have sprung out of the ether.

Yet, what she really meant was; what have you done to yourself?

Vader did not falter as she stopped but a breath away. Her trembling, slender fingers reached for his face plate. Her tiny hand brushed over the mouthpiece, running over the sharp angles and the netted grill. A breath was forced through it, with a loud hiss and the smell of sanitizer and bacta fluids followed it. Padmé’s eyes were round, warm, and mournful. They were glassy, her cheeks flushed but it was Vader who wished more than ever that he might shed a tear. If she were to strike him down, he deserved it. He would allow it. He would let her.

“Anakin.”

It was not a question. She knew, it was evident in the pitiful, feeble smile of shock and relief alike that grazed her lips. It was gone in an instant, but it had said enough. So used to denouncing his name, denouncing himself and all he was and had been - Vader found himself unable to deflect her. She was right. He had been wrong for so long, choosing to live in darkness and denial. No more.

“Yes.”

Anakin meant it.

****

Have a short Vaderdala AU.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) The Awkward Chronicles

(Author’s Note:  Here is some wild Bad Batch content for you.  I’m still not entirely sure why I did this, but I was sitting here laughing and blushing at this madness.  I’m one of those people who gets embarrassed so easily, so this fic was a ride for me.

-We all have ideas on what it’d be like to live and fight with the Bad Batch.  These are some short examples of the less glamorous things that can happen when you dwell with five males on a tiny ship-

Warnings:  Some awkward situations, embarrassment, some crude humor, potty humor)

Link to The Sequel

   You were walking down the hall, minding your own business, when it happened.  The lights went out.  As a matter of fact, it seemed that power in the entire ship was down.  You were left stranded in the pitch black, feeling around for the wall for only a few seconds before a low hum sounded and the emergency lights came on.

   The hall was cast in an eerie red light.

   “Tech!” Hunter’s growl made you jump.  That’s when you remembered; the last time you’d seen the Sergeant was when he excused himself to the refresher to take a shower.  A loud bang sounded on the door just a few feet away from you.  “Tech, what’s going on?”

   Before you could respond, the door slid open, and a very disgruntled Hunter emerged. It was quite a sight.  His long hair was damp and full of suds, some of which was falling into his eyes, and he wore a towel around his waist.  He was trying to blink the soap from his eyes, and he must not have seen you there because he marched straight into you.

   You yelped, hands shooting up instinctively to try and cushion the blow.  They landed on his broad chest, and you shrunk away awkwardly.  The dampness of his skin and the proximity was enough to make your face flare up.  Embarrassment quickly took its toll.  You were glad that the emergency lights were dim.

   “__________?” Hunter asked in disbelief, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes.  His grumpy demeanor was replaced with surprise.

   “Um, yeah, it’s me,” you replied.  “Sorry.”

   “I’m the one who ran into you,” he said in amusement.  He was right, but something about the situation just made you feel like you should apologize.  Maybe it was the way you were trying so very hard to meet his eyes and not let your attention wander.  

   Funny enough, Hunter didn’t seem at all bothered by the situation.  He continued to stand there unabashedly, eyes flickering past you.   “Where’s Tech?  Do you know what’s going on?”

   “He was making repairs in the cockpit,” you said. 

  “Would’ve been nice if he at least waited until no one was using the shower,” he mumbled.

   “Yeah, very true.  Here, I’ll just…”  You glanced at the floor, biting your lip.  “I’ll, um, tell him to hurry up with the power.”

   “Thanks,” Hunter nodded.  He gathered up his damp hair which had started to drip more suds down his shoulder, and turned to head back into the refresher.  You spun around and hurried toward the cockpit, ready to face-palm.

   That image won’t stay burned into your mind or anything.  Nope.

- - - -

   You glared at the empty roll.  It sat there tauntingly as your brain desperately thought of options to solve your current predicament.

   If you really wanted to, you could pull your bottoms up just enough to shimmy out of the refresher and grab a new roll of toilet paper in the supply closet.  It was a small ship, though, so there were a few things that could make the plan go awry.  Someone could easily walk by and witness the unfortunate situation.  Or worse, someone could be waiting for you to exit the refresher and slip in after you walk out the door.

   Your best bet would be to see if someone could bring you a roll.  Wrecker was the most ideal choice.  He was likely the one who left you with an empty roll in the first place, and he was the most relaxed of the group about things like that.  Not to mention you’d rescued him from the same situation a few times already.  You could count on him cracking a joke and then just moving on.

   Speaking of which, you heard his heavy footsteps going down the hall right then.  Relief washed over you as you grinned and gave the refresher door a knock.  “Wrecker!  Can I ask a favor?”

   “Sorry, ________!  I’m moving something for Hunter,” he grunted.  “Crosshair’s here though!  He can help you out.”

   Your smile faded.

   Crosshair was not a bad guy, but to say that you weren’t exactly eager to ask him to get you toilet paper was an understatement.  How could you bring yourself to ask the man and have him know your awkward situation?

  “What do you need?” Crosshair’s smooth voice was muffled through the refresher door.  You took a deep breath as you decided to take the plunge.

  “I, uh, I need someone to grab toilet paper from the closet.”

  It was dead silent on the other end for a minute, and you were inwardly cringing.  Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest, and your face practically burned with shame.

   “Isn’t there any under the sink?”

   “Already checked,” you said.  “Someone forgot to restock it.”

   “That would be Wrecker.”  He sighed in annoyance.  “Give me a minute.”  It felt like forever before you heard him knock on the door again.  “I’m...I’m just going to leave it here.”

   “Thanks,” you called through the door.

   His footsteps faded away, and you cracked the door open just enough to snatch up the roll.

   In hindsight, Crosshair had been pretty cool about the whole thing.  You weren’t sure what to expect, but your wildest imagination had envisioned his tone being laced with disgust, or at the very least irritation toward you.  Or maybe a snide comment.  Even so, it didn’t do much to derail the embarrassment that had set in when you joined the others in the cockpit.  You had a hard time looking Crosshair’s way for a while.

- - - - 

   Where could they be?  You rested your hands on your hips, frustrated.  You had searched every inch of your bunk for your boots to no avail.  Hunter and Wrecker were waiting for you outside the ship to join them for a supply run.  The only thing you could think of was that perhaps during the last crash-landing, they slid up to the front.

  With a sigh, you typed up a quick message to Tech on your holopad.  He was already up there working on one of the panels: maybe he could check.

   Three dots appeared on the screen, which meant he was typing up a response.  Then, they disappeared.  They reappeared once more.  Confused, you were about to head up to the cockpit anyway before a ping sounded on your device, alerting you of his response.

   I take it you were asking about your boots.  If that’s the case, then yes, they’re here up front.

   Your brows furrowed.  “What…?  I did ask about boots.  What does he think I wrote?”   You scrolled up to see your original message, covering your mouth in shock.

   It read: Tech, have you seen my booty?

   You quickly typed up a response.  Oh my gosh.  Yes, I meant to say boots.

   That explained his hesitant reply before.  Your face heated up at the thought of the brainiac reading your typo and short-circuiting for a moment, being unsure of how to go about it.  You choked back a laugh on your way up front to fetch your boots.

   Tech was kneeling down beside the panel when you arrived.  

   “Heyy,” you greeted.  He paused his work to lift his helmet.  There was a hint of amusement in his gaze, and you could see the way he was fighting a smile.

   “Hello, ________.”

   “About earlier,” you grimaced.

   He finally cracked a smile, chuckling.  “No worries.  These things tend to happen.  I set your boots over there.”  He nodded in the direction of the co-pilot seat.  Face flushed, you grabbed your boots off the chair and pulled them on before heading out to join Hunter and Wrecker.

- - - -

   “Alright,” Hunter shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Who was that?”

   Everyone in the cockpit exchanged looks, some accusatory.  Under normal circumstances, you’d think the whole thing was childish.  But for someone with Hunter’s abilities, you sort of understood why every time someone passed gas, it became a game of “who did it?”

   It was almost always Wrecker.  Sometimes he’d admit it proudly, and other times he’d try and deny it.  This time, it seemed, he was out for blood.

   “It was __________,” he said.  “I heard it.”

   All eyes turned to you, including Hunter’s vexed expression.  You glared at the largest Bad Batcher with your heart thumping in embarrassment.  “Was not!”

   The corner of his mouth twitched.  A hint of a smile, though he quickly hid it.  “Come on, _________.  It’s bad enough that you disturbed Hunter’s ‘advanced senses.’”  He quoted the phrase that he’d heard Tech throw around before.  “But don’t try and cover it up.”

   “It wasn’t me.”  You replied in disbelief.  Turning to Hunter, your eyes took on a more pleading look.  “You’ve got to believe me.”

   “You’re being awfully defensive,” Echo noted.

   “Yeah, awfully defensive,” Wrecker repeated, nodding furiously.  “Own up, ________.  That one was really bad.”

   You sighed.  “This is silly.  It wasn’t me, and you know it.”

   “Maybe it was,” Crosshair shrugged.  “And maybe it wasn’t.”

   “Either way,” Hunter interrupted, shooting each of you a look.  “I’ll ask all of you one more time.  Try and hold off until we land, so I can leave.”

   The cockpit fell into silence once more, and you turned around to take a seat in one of the passenger chairs, brooding over the situation.  Wrecker shot you a cheeky grin, and you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that crept its way onto your features at his childishness.

- - - -

   “__________, could you fetch me another wrench?” Tech asked, grunting as he pulled out a few wires from the opening in the wall.  “I’m going to need it in a minute.”

   Your eyes caught something shiny on the tool kit he had laid out on the floor of the cockpit.  Kneeling down to pick it up, you shrugged.  “You mean like this?”  Tech glanced your way and shook his head.

   “A smaller one.”

   “Oh alright,” you sighed.  “Be right back.”  You moseyed your way out of the cockpit, taking your time because it was a slow day and there was no rush.  It was unusual for the ship to be so quiet.  That was most likely because Wrecker wasn’t on board.  He went with Hunter and Crosshair to see the planet a little.

   On your way back to the rest of Tech’s tools, you saw Echo making his way up front.

   “How go the repairs?” he asked.

   “Pretty good,” you said with a nod.  Both of you had paused to converse for a moment in the hall. “I’m grabbing some more tools for Tech.  Apparently the toolkit he brought up front doesn’t have the wrench he needs.”

   Echo chuckled.  “Well, good luck to you.  I’ve got my own repairs to make, or else I’d help.”

   “Well, thanks anyway.”  You smiled.

   “__________!” Tech called.  “If I am to proceed, I will need that wrench.”

   “One second!” you called back.  Shrugging, you mumbled, “duty calls.”  Echo and you both stepped aside so the other could pass by first.  A few chuckles floated into the air, and before you knew it both of you were taking a step forward at the same time.

   “Wow, okay, I’m sorry,” you said, feeling a little shy at the awkward close proximity.  Both of you sidestepped, bringing your chests together again.  Echo fidgeted a little with the contact.  Heat flooded your cheeks at how you were so close you nearly kissed.  Your friend rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.  

   “Ah, sorry,” he mumbled.  “Why don’t you just go ahead?”  This time, he managed to take a step back and over against the wall, lighthearted laughter leaving his lips as you walked past.

   “Sorry,” you told him again over your shoulder.  As you walked away, you felt that familiar twinge of embarrassment.  Poor Echo looked somewhere between amused and a little embarrassed himself.  You were a little relieved to hear another laugh from him down the hall.

[staygolddindjarin]

Grief

Chapter two: Rebellion

Din Djarin x Reader x Cassian Andor

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter warnings: some brief angst, this ones pretty mellow ngl

Words: 3.3k

A/n: i was not expecting such a good response from the first chapter but bruh you guys are amazing- anyway here's part two of my brain's misery

Part 2/?

The trip from Mandalore to the planet of Dantooine was long, and still ongoing. We all took turns, watching to see if we were any closer. After each jump from hyperspace, the transport would stop at a space refueling tank, before slowly going onward toward the destination. We must have been traveling several systems across the galaxy. We had a few laughs, mainly while watching Gander try and steal Shyloh's food from his knapsack while he was sleeping. Most of the other time we all just sat in silence, up until this point.

"What do you think we're all going to do once we get to the rebel base?" Merc raised his voice slightly, barely capturing our attentions as we had all been dozing off, and Shyloh was taking watch at the view point.

"What do you mean?" I had asked, not quite sure of what he was getting at. I sat up straighter against the wall, showing my interest in the newfound conversation.

"What branch do you think you'll end up in?" He was in a daze as he spoke, almost unsure of his intentions of bringing it up. His dark eyes were nearly emotionless under his furrowed brow.

"I hadn't really thought about it. I would say maybe something like mechanics," I said, thinking of the best possible use of my talents. I'm sure there's plenty of mechanical help already assisting the rebels, but with the galactic empire growing it's forces by the day, they needed all the help they could get.

"What about flying?" Shyloh perked up from his seat at the window.

"What about it?" I asked, curious as to why he suddenly thought of the new topic.

"You could do it of you wanted to. Be a pilot, I mean. You have the skills," He told me, but I scoffed. He wasn't in any way shape or form was making an ounce of sense at all.

"Speeder control races are a bit different from piloting fighters against the imperial troops don't you think?" I laughed at the idea, but he rolled his eyes, persistent with his opinion.

"It's less different than you think it is. Also mind you, I never saw you lose a race," He objected, but I wasn't having any of it.

"That's because when I raced, my own credits were on the line," I joked, seeing what he would try and come up with next, only to be met with a cold hard stare, before an answer that would shake me to my core.

"Well, now the freedom of the galaxy is on the line."

My smile dropped from my face and I turned to face the other two, who were looking back at me. They didn't expect that answer either. Shyloh was well known to be a boy of few words, and only really spoke to his friends and family. He was a founding just like the rest of them, but he had been with ths clan longer, due to having been saved from a war infested home as a baby.

He could sometimes be very wise, even if he didn't think he was being so. We weren't sure what it was, but he had this sort of presense that was so powerful. We knew when he would walk in a room, or walk out of it. It's like the air would change. Much like it changed now, with his words rendering us all speechless.

The silence was uncomfortable, and I was the one who left it unresloved, so I spoke up in favor of my crewmates to not keep quiet any longer.

"Perhaps I shall see where I am needed first."

"Perhaps you shouldn't be so afraid to explore an option you would excel in," He again rendered me speechless, and I did not have anything else to say this time. I was young, but my mind was not. I could comprehend thoughts the same way that an adult could. I could handle things just as well and if not better than some, too. He was right. I was simply afraid.

"I think we're finally here," Shyloh said, turning back to look out of the view port again.

"Its about time," Gander stood up, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and standing at the transport door waiting for it to slide up.

We all followed suit, but Shyloh stopped us and held up a warning finger to stay still.

"There's manding droids, we gotta sneak off carefully. They don't look like bulk but they could be armed," He suggested. We were not yet at the rebel base, meaning these were probably droids of the land, and belonged to whoever oversees the exports on this planet.

When the panel opened, we were all careful to first peek out of the transport. This planet was nothing at all like Mandalore, which was dry and hot. This planet was lush with plants. And the air was slightly humid. It was a very welcome contrast from where I spent most of my life.

We all sneakily bolted out of the transport, ducking down behind one of the cargo units placed outside. We saw an opening in what looked like some sort of forrest patch.

There was a chill in the air on this planet, even in the middle of the day. Mandalore only ever got colder at night, when the sun was down and the moons were shining.

"That was close." Merc mumbled as we began to turn around and head into the grasslands, trying to find the rebel base.

We made sure no one was behind us, and were careful to check if any droids had caught sight of us.

We all went to turn around, but as soon as I did, I collided with someone's chest, rather hard might I add, sending me to the ground on my bottom. I didn't even collide that hard with the person, it was just the shock that sent me backwards.

"Need a hand?" I looked up to see a man, a sly smirk on his face as he held his hand out towards me. I took it without question, heaving myself up from the grassy, and somewhat muddy ground beneath me.

"You must be our contact," Merc smiled, and the man nodded, turning and begining to lead us to a speader that was hovering nearby behind a large set of trees.

"We must be careful not to use names outside of the base. I would be more than happy to formally introduce myself once we reach our final destination," He chuckled. It was only now that I realized he had an accent, a thick one. Probably left over from his native tongue that spilled out his mouth when he spoke galactic basic.

I know that sometimes my accent slips in when i speak. I never had to worry about using Mando'a around my fellow crewmates. They were foundlings, and hadn't been raised to speak it. Shyloh was, but he prefered to use galactic basic anyways because he had forgotten so much of it.

We all boarded the speader, Gander and I sitting on the back, our legs hanging off as we held onto the side bars.

"This might be a bumpy ride for you two," The man said, looking at both of us before giving me a wink. I scrunched my face up, not sure how else to react to it. The man was definitely on the younger side, but I wasn't sure how he could possibly see an interest in me.

Maybe he did and I just didn't want him to. Maybe I was still hinged to the idea that I would go back to Mandalore someday and marry my betrothed. I was so young, and hadn't the slightest idea of what feelings I could possibly be harboring, if any at all.

I couldn't deny I found him appealing. Anyone would, at least any human with eyes that is.

His hair was dark, and so were his eyes. He had a bit of stubble along his jaw and above his lip. He was somewhat scruffy looking, but in a good way.

As the speeder went through the forresty stretch of pathway, I kept turning around to catch a glimpse of him. Each time I did I had to look away fast because Gander would give me weird stares.

I would play it off like I was simply taking in the view of the green planet around me, and he wouldn't seem to notice.

After a while, with quite a few twists and turns, and Gander and I nearly falling off the speeder twice, we arrived to our destination.

We all hopped out of the transport, following the man into a giant cargo port. As soon as I looked to my left I could see an X-wing fighter in all it's glory. I had never seen a real one before, just heard stories and viewed holograms.

"Alright. We have about twelve other recruits arriving on this base today, so you will all be attending orientation this evening. As for right now, you look beat, and should rest. PX-74 will assign you to your bunks," He said, gesturing to the droid before beginning to walk away with a nod, but I stopped him before he could take a step.

"Wait a minute... I believe I recall something about a formal introduction," I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight, trying to give off the look of having as much confidence as I could muster. I was putting on a facade, possibly to make me seem more mature. I didn't know the real reason.

He smirked, raising an eyebrow as he scanned me up and down with his dark eyes.

"Cassian Andor," He smiled, then looking right back at me with questioning eyes. "And how about you... you got a name?"

"Y/n from clan Maldrix," I said, my confidence wavering a little when he looked at me the way that he did.

"She's a Mandalorian," Shyloh perked up, and I sent him a warning glare.

"Yeah, sixth generation," Merc added, his cocky smile pasted on his face for all to see and be annoyed by.

"A mandalorian? I've heard the stories but I haven't ever met one. Are you-?"

"I'm not," I cut him off before this got twisted into one big lie. "My mother and father are."

"Doesn't that make you one too?" Cassian furrowed his brow but his tone was somewhat joking and humorous.

"No, it does not," I wasn't harsh with the way my voice came out, but I was firm. Though I wasn't one of them, the mandalorians and all they stood for were very important to me.

"Mandalorian is not a race, it's a creed. Some of the best Mandalorians I ever had the pleasure of knowing didn't even have a bloodline from Mandalore. They were foundlings, like these three," I explained, laying out the facts so that there was no longer any confusion lingering, but now there was a tension that was thicker than the trees on this planet.

"Even still, she can fight just as good as any soldier taken the creed," Merc jumped in, trying to clear the air, and thankfully, it seemed to be working.

"She flies even better," Shyloh mentioned, and I swore I could kill him. He was just so pushy sometimes, even with his massive sense of wisdom.

"You fly?" This peaked Andor's interest, and immediately he seemed more engaged towards me.

"I'm not as good as they say I am," I admitted, but he shook his head.

"No, really... if you can fly we could really use you. We're putting together a team for an air raid that's set to happen about one month's time from now," He came up closer to me and stared me in the eye.

"I'm just a kid, I might really let you down," I joked, trying not to get too caught up in his eye contact. His eyes were much darker when you could see them closely.

"I tell you what, I can arrange for you to have time in the flight simulator after orientation. If we feel you would be an asset, we can add you to the strike team," He said, nodding along to his words. I understood that they might need backup, and if push came to shove, I could maneuver faster than any pilot back on Mandalore. I never lost a race, nor did I ever lose a bet.

"Okay."

I could tell I was blushing from the extra attention I was receiving. I wasn't so sure what about me was so enticing that I deserved it.

"I have to go now to pick up the other recruits from a drop station. I leave you in the capable hands of PX-74," He said, returning to his speeder and letting us be lead off into the base.

"There are only so many open bunks left. Two of you will share one, and the other two will be placed with bunk mates." The metalized voice of the PX unit was strong in our ears, and we all followed after him as we ventured into the long hallway at the end of the cargo port.

The droid stopped at a door about midway through the hall and opened it using the side panel on the wall, revealing a young man that seemed almost younger than me even.

"One of you will be staying here. Which will it be?" The droid asked, turning towards our small group.

"I'll take this one," Shyloh said, stepping forward into the bunk to meet his new roomate.

The boy looked a bit frightened at first, but because of Shyloh's powerful yet calming energy, he seemed to relax almost immediately.

He turned and smiled back at us, waving before the IG unit closed the door and kept us going.

He walked us down passed several more doors, maybe more than twenty, before he stopped at another one and opened it up.

Inside sat a young woman, her legs crossed as she sharpened a knife with a smirk on her face. She looked up and made eye contact with me first.

"I wondered how long it would be before they got someone else in here." Her voice was somewhat low and raspy, but it was kind of soothing in a way.

"One of you-" the IG unit began again, but I stopped him, stepping into the bunk with the girl inside.

"I'll take this one." I smiled at the two boys left before the door closed on my new bunk.

I moved to set my knapsack down on the bottom bunk, but my roomate stopped me.

"Bottom one's mine." She said, looking up from her sharpened knife again to inform me of the sleeping arrangements.

I instead threw my knapsack on the top bunk, trying to climb up into it, but failing miserably.

"You need a hand?" She chuckled, watching my lame attempts to swing my leg up high enough. The fact that there was no ladder should have tipped me off.

"I'll be okay, thanks," I laughed, keeping my attitude loose and positive, though this bunk bed was already causing unnecessary problems for me.

"If you say so," She chuckled again, seeing as I finally managed to haul myself up and onto the bed.

"First try," I joked, and she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. I think that we would be getting along, because no one ever laughed at my lame sense of humor.

I laid back, resting my arms behind my head and staring blankly at the ceiling.

"So, where are you from?" She piped up, not taking her eyes away from her previous knife. That thing must mean a lot to her.

"Mandalore," I let out, trying to get comfortable on this lumpy pad that was under my head.

"Actually?" She seemed surprised. Everyone had heard of the planet that the mandalorian tribes had resided upon, and usually they understood what kind of people the place would breed.

"Yeah. Left just in time. Tomorrow's my birthday," I shut my eyes continuing our converastion with one less sense. It didn't matter, though. I was still fully awake.

"What would you have had to do?" She pondered curiously, finally looking up towards the bunk in interest.

"Well, to put it short... tomorrow I would have had to swear my freedom away. No living being would ever be able to see my face again till the day I died," I laid it out plain and simple, and she seemed to understand.

"How old are you?" She asked, her trail of questions getting longer and longer.

"Sixteen tomorrow," I answered, feeling a bit more tired now that my eyes had been closed, and the lights in the bunk rooms were dim.

"You're just a baby," She scoffed. "How could they possibly expect you to make that choice so young?"

"It's just the way it's always been there. This is the way," I remembered. Those words used to be said to me nearly ten times a day, and now they only rung in my mind as a memory.

"That's insane. The people on your planet must be crazy to take an oath like that," She muttered.

"You would think so... the strangest part about it is that there are kids brought back as foundlings that take the creed without hesitation. They don't even belong to a bloodline, they just feel as though they have right to the creed as much as anyone else," I silently remembered Din for a moment. He was the bravest, strongest, most loyal Mandalorian I'd ever known. A foundling.

I began to get bitter at the thought of leaving him. He could have made things better for me if I had just given him a chance. I had to let my head get in the way. I needed to think about something else.

"What about you, huh? Where you from?" I asked, changing the subject as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Alderaan. Born and raised," She said, getting up from the floor and dropping herself on the bottom bunk.

"You been a lot of places since then?" I asked, but she first let out a heavy sigh before speaking.

"Only too many to count," She said, settling herself on the bunk like I had done.

"Must be nice..." I muttered. Finally able to relax on this pathetic excuse for a bed pad. Of course I couldn't complain. I'm the one who chose the life of the rebellion, including their miserable bedding. "I've never been anywhere outside my home planet until now. I haven't even seen the entirety of my own planet."

"Most new comers are the same. They haven't been anywhere else, then they come here and its like we're moving non stop. Base to base, on just about every planet in this galaxy," She reassured. At least now I didn't feel so out of place.

"How long have you been stationed here?" I asked, unsure of how long I would get to adjust to things.

"A few months. It's likely we'll have to leave soon. There's rumors of the imperials knowing our location," She answered, rolling her eyes, thought I couldn't see from the top bunk.

"You're kidding," I scoffed. After just getting here, I might have to up and leave again. I'll have to learn to accept this new life, it's what I wanted.

"I wish I was, kid," She added.

"I have a name," I retorted back, not a fan of the nickname 'kid'. I waited for her to ask me what it was, but when she stayed silent I sighed. "It's Y/n."

"I'll call you what you are... now get some rest, they'll come pounding on that door in a few hours for orientation," She said, as though she somehow had grown to a habit of mothering me only five minutes after we met. I dropped the conversation and drifted off to sleep, my eyes were too heavy to keep open anymore anyway.

.

.

Tags open

A/n: okay so like i wrote this a while before everything with gina carano happened and i do not in any way condone her whatsoever so let's pretend she's been recast already...