#which I think will be the second to last scene before we jump forward to the war

[lilredghost]

WIP Wednesday: Caught

GFFA Soulmate AU (follow-up to this post)

Anakin is two screws and a hex bolt into dismantling the saber, hardly ankle-deep, when the front door slides open.

And Obi-Wan steps in. “Padawan, have you seen my…”

Anakin grimaces in mortification as his Master trails off, clearly having found what he was looking for.

He looks calm, but a spark of fear lights in Anakin anyway. If his Master knows, if he catches wind of this insatiable need that Anakin has—

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says carefully. His body is tense. “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Master!”

He’s been made. He’d tried to pry Obi-Wan open and crawl inside while his Master wasn’t looking, and now he’s been caught red-handed, still covered in his blood.

The two of them are Master and Padawan, but—

He knows that doesn’t give him permission for this kind of intimacy.

At best, Obi-Wan will see it as rude and violating.

At worst, he’ll see it as a betrayal.

“I just wanted to see,” Anakin begs. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I know I should have asked.”

“Oh.” His Master’s gaze flickers to the mess on the living room floor, the electrical and mechanical parts scattered around from Anakin’s various projects, and then back to him.

Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows, looking nonplussed.

“So this is… purely academic interest?”

Anakin seizes upon the excuse gratefully, trying to rein in the rampage of feelings inside him. “Yes, exactly! I wanted to see how it was different from mine, especially given that we’re using a lot of the same materials.”

Obi-Wan raises a hand to cover his mouth, stroking his beard, which means he’s a little rattled and needs a moment to regain his composure.

Anakin can relate.

“Tell me, Padawan. What do you feel when you touch my lightsaber?”

“What do I feel?” Anakin asks in surprise. “I guess— um.”

He scrambles for an answer he can say out loud, something other than Like I’m yours. Anything Obi-Wan would accept.

He remembers, with sudden clarity, the incident with Ferus’s lightsaber two years ago.

“I feel like I’ve eaten a good meal,” he lies. “Like I’ve eaten my fill, and I’ll never be hungry again.”

It’s only half a lie, anyway. Obi-Wan does make him feel all those things, with the way he looks after him, ensuring he always has more than enough to eat, even when they’re on missions.

It’s just not the lighstaber that does that.

Still, the answer has some kind of tension releasing from his Master’s form. Obi-Wan sags a bit, his expression settling into a small smile.

“Well,” he says lightly, shaking his head. “I suppose I can’t begrudge you that.”

Obi-Wan points a finger at him, mock-stern.

“But I expect you to ask next time, Padawan.”

Anakin, still reeling from the easy acceptance— from the explicit permission, the absolute trust— snaps to attention. “Yes Master!”

[yumeka-sxf]

In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖

Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).

The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭

But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅

I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀

The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.

Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅

The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.

But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!

By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.

Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!

I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.

I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣

Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.

The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)

Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂

[atzfilm]

the leaders. (m)

pairing/wc; woosan/f.reader, 14.7k summary; you wake up in a rusty cell, an oddly familiar helping you out. once you step out into the world, it hits you – this is in fact the wildwest, and somehow, the singers you adore are cowboys? content; wild-west au, violence, guns, murder, smut. overuse of cowboy terms/slang, obsessive behavior note; again, may seem familiar since i have written this before on a different blog with different characters ♡

You gasp, eyes flicking around. Bars surround you, dust underneath your fingertips. You move forward, tugging on the iron that prevents you from leaving. A groan leaves your lips.

“How the hell did I get in here?” You grumble.

“Pretty ladies like ya aren’t supposed to be cursing,” You hear a voice say behind you. You roll your eyes at the words and turn, eyes widening. He wears a long brown trench coat, leaning against the bricks behind him as he looks up, before his gaze meets yours. You could remember those bright eyes which are now partly covered by the shadow from his hat.

Choi San. And here he is, odd sounding and covered in dirt and grim, probably from trying to get out like you were just doing. But there’s something different about him. He doesn’t resemble the man you remember from the shows. More country is the only way you can describe it.

“I think you would curse too if you wake up in a cell,” you murmur. “Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at a show or something?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I ain’t no puppet, darling. And my boys will be here soon.” He stops talking, listening to the shouts outside. “Speaking of which…” He moves away from the wall, leaping forward to bring you into his arms. You shove against his chest, ready to cause a scene before the loud sound of a bomb exploding breaks your eardrums.

The walls blow down, San covering you with his body as debris flies. After a few more seconds, he kicks open the jail door with remarkable strength, running out. Before he jumps through the hole, he looks at you. You can see the gears running through his head as he thinks, before dusting off his black hat.

"We don't have all damn day, S!" A voice rings out, bringing you both back to reality. San rolls his eyes.

"Well, my chucklehead pal W over there could use some explaining to do, but he's not the ripest apple in the bunch," San points over to a man too far away for you to spot, his hand holding out for yours. "But I always have room to help a lady. Take my hand here, and I'll be off your back in a jiffy."

You stare at it for a moment before he takes in a big gulp of air, pulling you from the ground. You yelp, tumbling into his arms.

His smile widens as he sees how close you're pressed to his chest, a wicked grin plastered on his cheeks. "Ah, I don't seem to remember the last time a fine lady like yourself fell into my arms." He holds you back, tipping his hat once.

"S, I swear on my mom’s grave—!"

"Ah, I'm coming ya deadbeat!" He looks back at you sympathetically.

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to be more gentlemanly, my partners get a bit under the weather whenever I delay. I gotta hop on outta here before the sheriff comes and see what’s the hustle and bustle, but I do think I'll be seeing the likes of you soon enough." He nods his head once at you, before hopping onto his horse.

"See you in a hog killin' time, pretty lady!"

He coaxes the horse forward, yelling out a loud yip before galloping off. If you squint hard enough, you can see a few more horses running off into the sunset. Your mind runs miles per minute, glancing around. Old stables and buildings surround you, too real and old to be just an amusement park or a movie set. You walk slowly into town, glancing over at a poster that’s nailed into the side of a tree.

Wanted:

$10,000 REWARD!

Mischief group of bandits called “The Leaders”

Bribery, Murder, Thief

Please contact Sheriff Kim Hongjoong if spotted.

Portraits are displayed below, but one sticks out to you. One smile that you’ve seen just moments ago, busting you out of your prison cell that you have no idea how you got into. You blink slowly. Shit. Shit. You pinch your skin, wincing at the pain. So this isn’t just a dream. They are actually in the Wild West, and you’re… well, what are you?

"Hey there!"

Your head whips over to a man that's slowly walking over to you, his hands on his waist as he takes you in. Your eyes widen as you trail over his fingers. Spokes on the back of his boots, slacks dirty from wear and tear, pronounced belt head that still barely manages to keep his pants up. Best tucked into that, a silver sheriff's badge hanging on his shirt pocket. Your eyes flick up to his face, eyes popping out of your head as you realize who's standing in front of you. Hongjoong stands there, eyes narrowed as he takes you in.

"You don't look like you're from 'round here, young lady."

Young lady? There's barely a difference in your ages, not enough for him to speak like that to you. But you clear your throat, trying your best to sound at least a little like them.

"Howdy." Shit. For effort, you'd give yourself an A+, even though the grinding teeth and wink probably drops that down to a failure. His hand slowly wavers over his gun, and you could imagine this now. Being killed by Kim Hongjoong? Not sure if that's your life goal, but it's not a bad reputation to have. "What if I told you that I'm from the future?"

"I'd think you're trying to play games with me, miss," he says simply, slowly taking his hand away from his waist. "Where you from?"

Taking your chances and saying you don't remember is the best bet. If you even explained that he was from a popular band and you have no clue why you're suddenly transported into a wild west, starring them as if this is a horrible, yet fascinating dream. Amnesia path it is.

"I don't remember. I just woke up in a cell, and then this guy kicked me out of jail with dynamite? And he said something about having to leave and—"

"Wait one second!" Hongjoong holds up his hand. "You were involved in that escape that yahoo just did? Do you know each other?"

Yahoo. This man, with his full chest, really said yahoo. Trying to stifle back a laugh, you shake his head.

"I've never seen him in my life, and if I did I don't remember it. But," you gesture to the wanted poster next to you. "I'm assuming he's a notorious criminal."

Hongjoong paused, eyes flicking between you, your outfit, and the poster. He moves his hand away from his belt, crossing his arms as he sighs. "We've been trying to catch him and his group of bandits for months and we've just caught up with him. But yet again, he slips through our fingers." He runs his fingers through his hair, eyes moving to yours. "You couldn't be part of them anyway, too soft and they wouldn't be leaving any strays behind."

Wow. You don't know whether to be offended or pleased that he believes you. At least that gun of his isn't being pointed at you.

His gaze is focused on the destroyed wall behind you. "Why did he help you out, do you know? Because I don't even remember you being kept in there, but it's strange that he'd take the time to rescue a lady. Those men don't have any morals, at least any that I can see. Do you mind coming with me, miss...?"

He waits for your name expectantly.

"y/n. It's y/n. And I wouldn't be able to tell you why he helped me either, usually I'd say it's from the kindness of his heart but since he's a criminal..." you trail off.

He clicks his tongue, nodding once. "Ah, yes. Don't remember hearing your name round these parts neither. But your talk is a little fancier than mine, maybe you're from some town far away. I can bring you to the town doctor, but I'd rather we go on foot. Just in case you got something wrong with your organs or whatnot."

Hongjoong gestures in front of him, and you walk alongside him. "Do you know anything about our little town? Ah, wait," he rubs the back of his neck, a soft blush creeping on his cheeks. "You wouldn't know even if you did, since that memory loss of yours. We here are in a little town of mine called Mist."

...Mist.

"Not many folks pass by and stay, so most of these people you see walking down these streets are their mama and pop's third or fourth generation of family. We are a crop growing town, not a mining one. We aren't the richest or the poorest, just right in the middle. My pap and his pap before him were corn crackers, but I ended up being the sheriff, much to their dismay." He smiles down at you, his teeth shining in the burning sun. You'd never thought you'd be standing this close to him, but you'd rather not dwell on it.

It looks like Mist is ripped straight out of the history books. Streets lined with a saloon, a library, small homes and other knick knack shops. Rust covers most surfaces, horses neighing as you walk by. Your hand itches to pet the glossy fur, feel their hair between your fingers. But you know you'll just scare them off, and being kicked by that brunt force isn't on your agenda.

Hongjoong talks on and on about the history of his home, explaining that San used to be a citizen of it as well. "Strayed. Found that being here wasn't his cup of tea, wanted to make a name for himself. We were good pals back in the day, some would say brothers. But I wanted to walk the straight and narrow, and that was too good for him. Wonder what could've happened if I arrested him that day he robbed the general, what would've become of him." Hongjoong sighs.

"I still wanted to fix our friendship, you see. Even now, I still see the good in him, between his robbing and stealing. I see the Choi San who wanted to be a farmer when he was younger, before he banded the Leaders."

"Do you know the other people who are a part of it?" You ask, and Hongjoong shrugs.

"All we know is that there's many of them. W, a few others, and San. Our people haven't been able to identify anyone but San and a few others, since they are the face of the group. Know him enough that he'll keep the people he cares about hidden. Kept away from the public eye. Which makes me think why you aren't someone special to him," he smiles at you. "Not sure if you'd want to be, miss. Being with him only leads down a treacherous path. Full of murder and blood on your hands."

"I'll keep that in mind," you nod softly. Is this what San would be like in an alternate world? In this alternate reality? Dangerous, full of anger and greed? You just can't imagine the kind man being that cruel. There has to be more behind it, more than Hongjoong even knows.

He clears his throat, standing in front of a door. He knocks once, glancing down at you. "Doc should be in."

The door flings open, showing the town doctor. You should be used to it, seeing the members hanging around. But seeing Choi Jongho in all of his glory, standing in front of you only makes you smile, your mouth struggles to hold back your squeal of delight. He smiles at Hongjoong, before looking at you.

"Ah, what do we have here? Another one of your one nights, Hongjoong? Have you slipped up again?"

Hongjoong hits his arm, his ears burning red. "You know I'm a gentleman, doc. Don't make miss y/n assume things about me!"

Jongho grins, leaning against the door. "Ah, but you’re known as the town heart breaker. So many of our ladies throw themselves at you and you don't budge. Some even thought you swing the other way," he winks. "Not that I would mind. Patient room's always open for you. And for you, miss y/n. What seems to be the problem?"

Whiplash. The only way you can describe it as pure whiplash. This man is a mystery in itself.

"I'm at a loss," Hongjoong mumbles, scratching his head. "She ended up in a cell, next to San and he let her go? Can't recall anything before that."

"Ah, amnesia." Jongho opens his door wider. "Mind taking a seat? Just want to make sure your head is screwed on okay and you don't have any injuries," his eyes flick to your arms. "Although I already see some bruising on those pretty arms a' yours."

You walk into his office, Hongjoong following as they shut the door behind the three of you. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality? Did they not practice it here?

“Usually the sheriff wouldn’t be with a female patient,” Jongho explains, walking over to his tool table. The list of items there are very limited; bandages, an assortment of drugs, syringes, and a few knives here and there. He grabbed what you can only assume is a stethoscope, turning to you. “But this is an extenuating circumstance, is it not?”

He glances over at Hongjoong for a moment, before asking you to breathe in and out as he listens to your heartbeat, looking for any oddities. Hongjoong looks away, his ears burning red. The only thing this sheriff could do is blush, but you don’t mind it. It’s endearing, how he hunts down criminals but turns red when he’s watching you being examined.

“Are you nervous, doll?” Jongho asks, raising a brow at you. “Your heartbeat is rapid, like you just chased a herd of rabbits!”

Hell yes, you’re nervous. Jongho is literally inches away from your face, measuring your heart rate. Who wouldn’t be jumping out of their socks? Oh no. Your thoughts, they’ve turned cowboy and it’s only been a little over an hour.

“A bit,” you confess. “Not really sure where I am or how I got here. Just want to go home, wherever that is.” A small white lie. If you’re really dreaming, hanging out with the men in the wild west isn’t such a bad experience.

“Ah,” he mumbles, resting the scope on his neck. “Does your head hurt? Any throbbing feeling in your limbs?” You shake your head. “Hm, well this is a bit odd, if I think about it.”

“What’s odd?” Hongjoong asks, finally turning back.

“Don’t see any signs of injuries besides her physical cuts and bruises,” He grabs the homemade bandages off the counter. “But this could be something we can’t quite see from our eyes, Joong. Might be some brain disturbance. Can tell she aint lying about the amnesia,” he crouches in front of you, wiping your arm with the antibiotic, lightly wrapping the gauze around your arm. “Has those honest eyes. Bright,” Jongho smiles at you. “Reminds me a bit of Hwa-”

“Ya know not to mention him,” Hongjoong utters, Jongho sighing softly.

“Times are different, you know. Maybe he’ll come back to Mist, see the brighter sides of things…”

“He won’t. San manipulated him. His parents are still in a rut over it.” Hongjoong rubs his neck.

Seonghwa. So he’s part of San’s rebel squad as well. You’d like to ask more about it, but prying into their lives would only make you look suspicious, and you’d rather stay under the radar. Even though Jongho believes you, not everyone will. You’d end up in one of their hospitals rather than home. Somewhere you’d at least want to see one last time.

“But we should bring y/n to the motel. Yeosang owes me a favor, anyway. At least until she recalls her home.” Hongjoong glances at you. “A ways away, it would be better to take Angel.”

“Angel?” You ask, and Hongjoong’s eyes light up.

“My lady. You’d like her, she’s the sweetest gal in this town.”

Jongho rolls his eyes. “Stubborn. Can’t get her to listen to a word, gets all ruffled up. But she might like you, she prefers women.” Jongho clears his throat, stretching his back. “Time for a nap, don’t you say? Keep mind of your head condition, and I’ll give you some bandages. Nothing really happens ‘round here, so we have a large supply.” He passes you a roll. “Fixing to see you ‘round here more often, yea? Maybe Joong will have a more special lady.”

Hongjoong scoffs, his hair growing as red as a tomato. You’d definitely not get used to it. “Ah, shut your mouth, Jongho. Let’s go, ‘fore he makes up some more nonsense.” Hongjoong opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead.

You hop off the stool, “Thank you, Jongho. Hopefully, I see you without bandaids.”

His eyes sparkle. “Please do. It gets lonely ‘round here without some company. Leave Joong behind, I’ll show ya a good time.” He winks, watching as you go.

-

Hongjoong stands in front of a horse, patting her coat softly, feeding her a carrot. “Hey there, Angel. How’s it goin’, beautiful lady?” He whispers, his smile the widest you’ve seen it. “This here’s y/n, a visitor that’ll ride me with you, so don’t be too mean. Can’t have her runnin’ to the Leaders.”

Hongjoong looks at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. You roll your eyes. Tentatively, you run your fingers along her coat. She whines, moving closer to your touch. Hongjoong nods appreciatively. “She likes you, so that means you're a good one.”

“You’re beautiful, Angel,” You said, and she neighs, pressing her face into your cheek. “How did a lady like you end up with a scruffy sheriff like him?”

A groan falls from Hongjoong lips. “Hey, I grew up with her, mind you! Took care of each other, feeding each other. This’ my best friend, right here.” Hongjoong presses his lips to her coat, before tugging on her saddle, leaping up onto her back with ease. He holds out his hand for you, and you stare at the height.

No fucking way.

“Never hopped on a horse before?” he teases, but you nod. Shock crosses his face. “Wait, you ain’t kidding?”

“I’ve never been this close to a horse.”

He blinks quickly. “Ah, you must be from the city, then. Everyone for miles has been on a horse since a babe. Give me your hand, miss. Won’t be too hard to help you hop on her. You’ll be sitting in front of me, so make sure you don’t fall off the saddle.”

“… Can’t we just walk?”

Hongjoong’s eyes almost boggle out of his head. “What? Did I hear that correctly? It’s a long walk, miss. Too far. And you just been in a traumatic accident, can’t have you falling to the dirt from lack of breathing. Easy once you get the hang of it. Trust me, you'll be clean and clear.”

You grab his hand as he instructs you to put your foot into the stirrup, pulling you up with his full strength. You’re surprised at how strong he is, the lack of effort shown on his face as you sit in the saddle with him. You're partly sitting on his lap, and you’re thankful this time that you don’t have the chance to see his face.

“Keep your self pressed against me, alright? And hold on to that horn- yes, that. We’ll be going slower for you but once you get used to Angel, we’ll gallup the rest a’ ways.”

Hongjoong flicks the straps, and Angel walks forward. You yelp, your hands clawing into his thighs. His breathy laughs tickle your ears. “Ah, you’re definitely gotta be from one of those fancy places. It’s cute.”

“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Sheriff,” You grumble, only causing him to laugh louder.

“And the fancy words too. You'll be fine, I’m here for you, and we won’t be burning the breeze so you needn’t worry ‘bout that.”

You hold on tightly the rest of the way there, Angel slowly going into a steady gallop. Hongjoong chats your ear off about everything and anything, and you’re grateful for his presence. The stardom away, he’s just like anyone else. At least, in the cowboy sense. He’s funny and charming, and you’re a bit curious as to why he hasn’t snagged himself a partner in life yet. From what Jongho says, he’s popular. Popular enough to reject everyone that’s ever appeared.

“Are your standards high?” You ask after a joke of his.

You can’t see his face, but you can only imagine his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pardon, miss?”

“Doctor Jongho was talking about how you reject everyone that’s interested in you, and I was just wondering why, as all. I mean, you seem like a good guy from what I can see, I just don’t understand why you haven’t picked someone special for you. Even Jongho was interested.”

Hongjoong quiet as Angel walks on the grassy path. You quickly think you’ve overstepped, opening your mouth to apologize.

“I didn’t mean to- pry.

“No need to say any sorries, miss.” You hear Hongjoong rub the slight scruff on his face, thinking. “All of their advances felt disingenuous,” he confesses. “They wanted to be involved with me because of my position, not my personality. As you can see, I don’t lack in that department.”

You laugh, not seeing the smile that graces his lips.

“Haven’t gotten along with any people except for long time pals a’ mine. Kinda hard to meet new folks when you're in a town like ours, you see. Same folks and same faces day to day. Gets a bit dry.”

“So I assume that you’re happy that I’m here,” You joke.

You don’t see the panic crossing his face, the gulp as he looks away from your head for a moment. “I am, miss y/n. You bring bit a’ spring to my step… Ah, we’re here!” He reigns in Angel, resting her at the stall slightly away from the building. It’s only two floors high, but it’s long, probably home to a dozen or so rooms. Hongjoong hops off of Angel, holding out his arms as he helps you down.

You trip a bit falling off, landing in his arms. He steadies you easily, the usual pink on his face. “Should be more careful, miss. Some men aren’t as kind as myself.”

“Oh, you kind?” You hear a laugh, and turn to the new voice. Blond hair tucked into a hat, he leans against a pole that holds up the building, looking between the both of you. “Not used to seeing the Sheriff entertaining traveling folks. Assuming that you’re y/n?” His eyes flick to you, and you nod. “Ah, the woman spotted with one of those Leader men. Surprised you didn’t arrest her immediately, Sherriff. Loose ends don’t end up tied ‘round here as of late.”

“Ah, Yeosang, be nice for once, will you? She’s not involved with ‘em. Can’t even think back to before today. One of those fancy folk, you know? Probably came from the city.”

Yeosang’s eyes trail over your figure, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your clothing. You’re wearing a t-shirt and jeans, completely different from the corsets that you’ve seen the women wear around there. You wished that Hongjoong offered something so you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but to no avail. And you’re a guest to this town, so asking for something when you’re already unwelcomed would be pushing the little luck that you have.

“Didn’t think to give her a new pair of those? She’s practically in the nude in that wear.” He leans up from his spot, walking over to the both of you. His walk is lazy, stare matching. He holds up a bit of hay to Angel, her eating it out of his hands as he eyes Hongjoong. “No wonder you wanted to ride Angel over here. Haven’t felt another in a bit, hm?”

“You and Doctor Jongho seem to like to tease,” You say, earning a raised brow from him.

“Joong here grew up with us. Feed the same bread and wore the same trousers. Families closer than two peas in a pod. Joking is in our blood. Would ya like a new pair of clothes? Get you in something that won’t make the men ‘round here ogle you , their minds aren’t that pure as you can see.” He gestures to Hongjoong standing just feet away from you. “Didn’t even bother offering, his dirty mind.”

“Hey-!”

“I would like that, thank you. But, could I wear some trousers instead? Those skirts are too tight fitting and I can’t move in them.”

Yeosang’s grin slowly spreads across his face as he looks at you. “Thinking that I’ll like you more than the other misses he brings ‘round. Anything you need, miss y/n. Speaking of needs, Hongjoong. Why’d you bring her in these parts? It’s not the calmest area in our town. Could get hurt.”

Hongjoong glances around, seeing obvious sketchy people walking around. Some spot him and turn in the opposite direction. “Need a favor. She needs some place to stay-”

“So you thought it would’ve been an excellent idea to waltz over here and give her to me. Have enough of those skum walking through my doors, don’t need more eyes to cover an innocent virgin.”

You scoff at him, and he looks at you sympathetically. “In their eyes, you are.”

“Please, having her at my home won’t be proper, you know how the townspeople talk. City slicker in my home will only lead to chit-chatting.”

Yeosang places his hat back on top of his head, thinking. “How long?”

“I can’t quite tell ya that. Don’t know when her memory is going to come waltzing back in and saying howdy. Give her a few weeks, give or take.”

Yeosang grumbles, but nods. “Favors gone now, sheriff,” his eyes move over to you. “Let’s get you set up in some proper cow-poke slacks. Wouldn’t mind seeing you in some fancy clothing, though,” His grin widens as he looks at you.

That was flirting. That was definitely flirting. Your face warms as he tips his hat to Hongjoong, gesturing for you to walk ahead. You turn back to Hongjoong, and he nods once, lifting his hat up slightly.

“I’ll be in contact with you, keep your ears clean and your eyes open. Those bandits could be anywhere, and Yeosang’s place is prime time for their kind. Won’t be surprised if they slip ‘round here, causing a ruckus.”

“Not in my place,” Yeosang grumbles.

“Thanks, Sheriff Hongjoong. For bringing me here, and trying to keep me safe.”

Hongjoong flushes, “Ah, no need to thank me, miss. It’s only my job, even if you’re a city slicker.” He teases. He gets back on Angel, whistling at you once before disappearing down the dirt path.

Yeosang clears his throat next to you. “I’ll show you to the back. Can't quite find your size, but pick off these racks here and sure enough find something."

Yeosang holds the door open for you, gesturing to the racks in front of you. "Don't quite trust you by the way, miss y/n. Popping up 'round here out of the blue and yip yapping about some amnesia. Jongho a doc, but he ain't the brightest tool in the shed."

He eyes you. “You don’t even talk like a city-slicker or country folk. Can’t quite pin you down yet. Just don’t bring no trouble ‘round here, and we’d be peachy. Got that?”

“I do,” You say, Yeosang completely reading you. He’s even analytical in the wild west, but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. You’re surprised Hongjoong or Jongho didn’t peep a word about your accent. Maybe they think you’re from some far off town, a place where no one speaks in their slang. “I won’t cause a ruckus, either. Thank you for your hospitality.” You try speaking like him, a grin on your face.

He only rolls his eyes in response. “Nice try. I’m leaving your key hanging on your door, just outside. Grab it whenever you’re ready and your room will be prepared. Some gal will be bringing you more clothing for your stay.”

He gives you a wave as you thank him, closing the door behind him. You stare at the racks in front of you, grabbing whatever looks close enough to your size to wear. You tuck your feet into the boots and stare at the hats. It tempts you, your mouth watering, thinking about living out your cowboy dreams. But you sigh, giving them one last, longing gaze before leaving.

You’re already an eyesore, everyone looking at you wherever you go. Wearing a hat would only cause more people to ask questions, many you can’t answer. Where did you come from? Why do you speak like that? Wait, you don’t know what “insert term” is? You shower everyday? Endless questions that’ll only leave you in a stuttering mess, palms sweaty. You should probably grab a dress and corset and shove yourself in one, but who do they think you are? Walking around uncomfortable from day to day?

You grab the key that’s hanging outside your door, walking slowly down the hallway. Thankfully your room isn’t too far. You insert the key and unlock it, glancing inside. How the lady or man came into your room quick enough and dropped off clothing is beyond you, but you thank them silently, sitting on the edge of the mattress. The room couldn’t be more than ten by ten, a small window with the thinnest panel you’ve ever seen. You run your fingers along the quilt, humming softly.

What do you do now?

You remember seeing a bar just off the hotel, and nod. Sure, this couldn’t be scary. Just a normal bar in the Wild West. Probably some gunfights and glasses thrown everywhere, but that’s normal enough, you suppose. Maybe you’ll come out with an honorary bloody nose. You walk out of your room, locking the door behind you.

You turn, bumping into a body just outside your door. The impact is rather hard, making you stumble on the rug that’s on the floor. Before you can fall back, a hand grabs you, holding you steady. Your eyes look up, ready to thank the mysterious stranger. Dark eyes stare down at you, thick brows just above them, His hair is long, brushing against the nape of his neck. You never thought during this time there were piercings, but you can see them tracing up his ear, small gold studs. He pulls you up, eyes never leaving yours. You can recognize that man from anywhere, his face so distinct.

“Are you alright, sweet pea?” Wooyoung asks, his deep voice resonating in the quiet hallway. You nod, as he lets you go. He wears black from head to toe, boots shining with a line of silver around the heels. His hat rests on a string, hanging on his neck. He tilts his head, wavy hairs falling to his forehead. “Don’t remember seeing a gal as beautiful as you ‘round.”

You don’t know how to respond, and you can tell by his face that he knows the effect he has on you. He chuckles slowly, ring covered fingers running through his hair. “Fine night, isn’t it? Too dangerous out there for a sweet pea like you to be alone. Where you going?”

You purse your lips. “It’s dangerous out there, like you said. I can’t tell strangers where I’m going.”

He laughs. “Ah, you’re a slick one. I like that.” His eyebrows flick up slightly.

Fuck. The charisma from this man is dripping from his every word, every flick of his eyes. But you keep yourself grounded enough to roll your eyes, giving him your back. You’re not here to flirt.

…

Well, you aren’t sure why you’re here.

“Never had a lady give me her backside,” Wooyoung walks next to you, arms resting on his back. “Haven’t told you my government yet, and you’re already running. Let me at least say a bit more before you make me into a bad egg. Didn’t see a ring, so assumed you were an Angelica.”

“Angelica?”

His eyebrows furrow for a moment. “Ah, must be small-town lingo. Not tied down, I presume. No lover.”

“Why does that even matter?” You know. You can feel the heavy flirting between his words, the smirk on his lips. And you’re tempted, but something is different about him. There’s an aura around Wooyoung, more than the flirting. Mysterious, intimidating. Something you can’t quite point out. You reach to open the door, but he opens it for you, gesturing for you to exit. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you. You make any cowboy balmy.”

He walks along with you to the bar, no longer trying to start a conversation with you. You embrace the silence, but his mere presence is intimidating in itself, his looming finger just behind you. As you make it to the outside of it, he opens the door for you once more, his smile hidden on his face.

“Came here to bend an elbow as well. A bit glad I didn’t go to the bed-house, found better sights here. See you ‘round, miss…” He waits for you to say your name, but you don’t give him the pleasure. “Hard to get, I see. Admire that.”

You walk in, him just slightly behind you. The bell rings, eyes of the patrons looking over to see who entered. Their loud talks slowly dissipate, an audible hush falling amongst the crowd. You notice that they’re looking behind you, so you step to the side, letting Wooyoung walk in front. He looks back at you, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Name’s Wooyoung. But you’d’ve learned soon enough,” he takes your hand, lightly pressing his lips against the back, intense gaze on yours as he flicks his eyes to your lips, letting go. He seems to ignore the stares as he walks to the corner of the bar, a familiar silhouette there as well. But you can only see their back from where you’re standing.

You walk to the bar, sitting on an empty stool. Some of the men next to you eye you but don’t utter a word, probably assuming that you’re with Wooyoung. You don’t mind it at all, trying to figure out how to get back to your time is what you’d rather do. Although, hanging out with them isn’t half bad.

“Joong’s gal?”

Your eyes look up into softer ones, his contagious smile and plush cheeks easily recognizable. He holds a glass in his hand, cleaning it slowly. He leans against the counter. “Could tell by your trousers. No lady ‘round here would dare.”

You snort. “And what does that mean? I’m not a lady?”

Yunho looks at you in shock, his lips in the shape of an o. “Absolutely positively not, sweetheart. You’re different, bettermost from the others, makes you more fascinating, you see. Make any get one hellofa brick in his hat. Makes you a target as well, but you’re safe enough.”

“How so?”

He grins. “You’re with me. Talk more after I get these men outta da way.” He tips his head, walking over and sliding people their beer.

The saloon is bigger than you expected, probably about fifty or so people hanging out and about. There’s few women around but Yunho’s right; all of them are dressed to impress, makeup perfect on their faces. You spot Wooyoung, and finally, get the chance to see who he’s with.

San slides laid back in his chair, legs manspread as his eyes lazily trail along the crowd. You can't move, knowing that if you even tried his eyes would immediately land on you. So you try your best to keep attention away from yourself, sitting on the edge of the barstool as Yunho makes a drink for you.

The hairs on the back of your neck raise, knowing the heavy gaze that now rests on you. You thank him for the drink, using it as an excuse to down it quickly, eyes flicking over to where San is. His gaze is focused on you, a sly smirk slowly forming on his lips. He drags his tongue along them, eyebrow raised slightly, as if he's challenging you.

"Involved with a fella like him?" Yunho interrupts, forcing your eyes away. "Could only lead to bad endings, sweetheart. Only keep you on your toes long enough to say hello. Throw you right into the dust."

"Do you know him?" You ask, and Yunho laughs.

"Know him? We part of the Leaders together." He watches as the shock slowly crosses your face, his smirk rising. "Too bad he don't like to share."

"Share what?"

Yunho only winks.

The Leaders. San, Wooyoung, and Yunho. All of them are part of the bandit group. You’re a bit shocked that Yunho is, why would he be a bartender? But now you’ve figured out why Wooyoung feels so off. He��s a criminal, his dark gaze filled with more than just lust. He’s seen things you can’t imagine, things you’d rather not think about. San probably has blood on his hands as well as Yunho, his eyes taking you in as you think deeply.

“Never thought I’d see the likes of you again, darling.” His voice is next to you now, one you’ve just heard earlier today. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. W was just chatting about you, telling me about this daisy damsel, a city-slicker. Got me curious, I reckon, but when I saw you eyeing me, dead giveaway.”

“Was it a coincidence,” you mumble, not daring to meet his gaze. He doesn’t smell like alcohol at all, not even slightly. You’re a bit surprised, but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t expect to see you again either.”

“Ah, it’s not a bad thing,” San nudges the man next to you. The man grunts, ready to start something. But once his eyes scan San, a frightened look crosses his eyes as he stumbles from his stool, moving far away from the two of you. Hongjoong talked about how notorious and dangerous they are, but it didn’t sink until you entered the bar. They’ve made a name for themselves here, and not in a good way.

He rests on the stool, half sitting. “Never told me why you were in the calaboose. Don’t really look like the doozies that creep in there. Much calmer, strange.” He sees the look on your face, and chuckles. “In a positive way, darling.”

His eyes grace over your figure, a teasing glint in his eyes. He slowly brings the glass to his lips, eyes unblinking as he watches you through the blurry glass. His lips wrap around the lining of the glass cup, before placing it down to the counter. "You’re quite a mysterious one, miss y/n."

Your blood runs cold. You haven't uttered your name around him, or Wooyoung. How did he even know it? He sees the puzzlement in your eyes, gaze moving away from you to Yunho, a few feet away serving someone else.

"Town's small and townspeople chat. Hard not to figure out who you were. Cant get the details on your background, no matter how much pig digging. Not even your sheriff knows, and seems like you don't know either. Don't believe that in the slightest." He waves over another bartender, their quick pouring of the drink showing you in the simplest ways San's power in this town.

The shaking hands of the man as he pours, the laser sharp gaze of San as he watches, as if he'll jump over the counter if the man makes the slightest mistake. Wooyoung and he command attention and obedience with their presence. Completely different from the soft energy around Yunho, flirting smiles as he continues to intoxicate the saloon customers.

"We own this here saloon, love. The Leaders. Imagine my shock in seeing you stumble through those doors, W just behind ya. I saw the looks he was givin' you, that poor bastard..."

"Ah, talking about me while I'm not here to defend, sir? No wonder my ear was itching."

You're so absorbed in San's every word, ignoring the slow walk of Wooyoung behind you. He doesn't even bother asking the man in the opposite seat to move, the person leaving on their own accord. Unlike San, he molds his body into the stool, letting out a soft sigh before moving his eyes to you. A small grin teases on his lips, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Care to share?"

"Not interested. In either of you." You clench your ice tea, alcohol free. You don't see the looks they exchange over your head, wordless communication.

"Heard you talking to the sheriff," Wooyoung says.

"Wondering if you told any tidbits about our encounter. Isn't wise if you did," San adds. "Could be life risking, if you ask me."

You can feel the intense stares they give you without even glancing their way. Your eyes move to Yunho, who watches you from the other side of the bar. It's too loud for him to hear what you're saying to them, but you can tell that he knows. The blank expression he gives you is enough to know. Are they going to kill you? There isn't even any information to give Hongjoong, even if you wanted to.

"What could I say to him? He knows who you are, what you look like. And you barely exchanged three sentences with me before riding off into the sunset," you sip slowly on your drink. "Is that why you came over here? To bother me?"

San chuckles dryly. "You’re a smart one, hm? Think we can put you in your place?" He moves closer to your ear, a breath away from his lips touching your skin. "Can tell you’re flustered, your fingers are all shaky. Scared?"

Wooyoung leans on the counter, head resting on his hand. You notice his arm covered with tattoos and bracelets. His gaze is heavy, eyelids hushed as he licks his lips, flicking between yours and your eyes. "Pretty gal like you may be thinking 'bout something different though. Could tell right when we met, the look in those beautiful eyes of yours. Full a' wonder, and... ah." He reaches out, inches away from your hand, before pulling back.

"The things I want to do."

From the thumping in your ears to the breath of San tickling them, to the seductive look Wooyoung is giving you, it's overwhelming. You leap from your stool, ignoring the chuckles falling from their lips.

"Leaving so soon? Haven't even heard our proposal to you," San pouts. "It's worth a wild."

You hesitate in your steps, glancing back at the two of them. "And what is the proposition?"

Wooyoung leans back on the counter, legs outstretched in front of him. "Distract that sheriff. Tell him falsehoods, get his nose away from us. In exchange..." His heavy gaze moves up your body, before flicking to your eyes. "Join us."

.

..

...

....

"...join you? Why in the living hell would I ever join you?"

A dark look passes through both of them. San jaw clenches, fingers straining against the glass in his hands before he takes a breath, closing his eyes and opening again. He looks at you calmly once more.

"We need a lady in our ranks. Some things a man just can't do. You’re already a criminal, can't judge us."

You blink rapidly. "How am I...?"

Your mind trails off to your first meeting with him, in prison. He's assuming that you're as bad as them, that you'd break the law. But the worst thing you've ever done is kick a ball into someone's face, and you cried after doing that. Breaking the law? You could barely break a pencil, let alone the law.

"No." You say briskly. "I've changed, I think. Started anew. My past is behind me."

Wooyoung snorts at that. "Oh, is it now? Every soul in here sees you talking to us. Probably got to the sheriff already. He must be suspecting by now that you’re in cahoots with the Leaders."

They're trying to bait you. You've watched enough movies to know the moves. The evil glint behind the friendliness. The way Wooyoung's fingers rest on his hip, inches away from his pistol. It's subtle, but you know if you deny, they'd probably retaliate somehow. But Hell, you’ve dealt with men like this before.

"You're underestimating him. See y'all around." You tip your invisible hat, earning a chuckle from Yunho who watches. You turn your back to them, push the double doors open and leave.

Wooyoung goes to stand, but San grabs his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. He looks at him in confusion. "We won't stop her?"

"No. Sooner or later, she'll come crawling to us."

"Not too sure 'bout that," Yunho says, walking to them. "Gal seems independent. Can't see her listenin to you."

San quirks his brow. "She'll learn who I am soon 'nough."

-

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths just outside the bar. Your eyes flick to the sound of heavy panting, seeing a black stallion in the darkness. Its eyes glow faintly, focusing on you for a moment before huffing again. You try to calm your heart rate as you take in its calming presence, a soft neigh echoing in the night.

Your head is filled with several emotions; fear, confusion, lust. You can barely keep up with the heavy waves. The beating slowly drops into a more steady thumping, your eyes flutter as you take another breath, walking through the grass to meet it. It stomps its feet, warning you with gestures. You hold your hands up in surrender, showing it that it shouldn’t be afraid. It slowly stops moving, letting you stand next to it silently.

You don’t dare run your fingers on its coat, too afraid that it startles easily. You stare off into the night, eyes on the sky. The stars are the brightest you’ve ever seen; they glow their own lights in the small town. You glance around, seeing the flickers of torches and stakes, loud voices of people entertaining themselves. The horse neighs softly as you pout, running your fingers through your hair.

“I don’t belong here,” You say softly, glancing at the horse. “I have no idea what to do, how to get back to my home. But I have to admit, it’s nice being around here. The fresh air is completely different. Feels more natural out here.” You hear a crash behind you, but don’t even give the sound the light of day, continuing to hum softly.

“It’s a bit chilly out here too, and all I have is this shirt,” You pull at the material, frowning. “It’s barely thick enough to cover my boobs from showing through.”

“Boobs?”

You jump at the sound, turning to see a man, hair wild as the wind blows through it. He wears a dark blue outfit, cowboy boots shining in the darkness, probably from the flickering of the candle in his hand. He cocks his head, eyes watching you curiously.

“Is that the fancy way of saying bosoms?” You can hear the innocence in his voice, although the scars across his face tell a different story. “Strange city slickers.” He grins, walking to you. You’re not sure how he is compared to the rest of the bandits you’ve encountered, but you don’t take any chances.

“What do you want?”

Confusion is drawn in his expression, before he mumbles something to himself softly. “Ah… you’re with my horse. Seems a bit suspicious, don’t you think?” He points to the horse next to you, patting it softly. “Surprised he didn’t try to kick you. A feisty one, he is. Probably thinking about doing something to you.” He grins again, winking at you.

You move away from the horse and Seonghwa takes a step to it, pressing his lips against it. It nudges against him softly, and he giggles. You blink rapidly. Him. He is in a bandit group, an infamous group. You don’t even feel the dangerous aura around him, not like the other three. He’s much softer, calmer. He looks at you, still petting his horse lightly.

“Heard ‘bout you from the others. Potentially joining’ our ranks,” he looks you up and down in thought. “Don’t know why they’v’d even consider, don’t look impressive to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, pardon my behavior. It's true, though. You’re light on the eyes, but that’s all I see. Don’t look like you’ve even held a pistol, and from the looks of it, probably run your bazoo and snitch,” he wrinkles his nose. “I ain’t as trusting as the others. For good reason, too.”

He lets go of the stallion, leaning next to him as he watches you. “San trusts you, though. We aren’t what you think, what the chit chatting be saying about us. Hiding among the willows, filled with bug juice. It’s nothing of the sort.”

“Then why don’t you defend yourselves? Everyone is convinced you’re the worst criminals there are, that you’d shoot before anything else.”

There, you see it. The flicker of fury in his irises, the locking of his jaw, the dark glow to his eyes. But as quick as you see it, it fades away. He smiles again, and this time it doesn’t seem as genuine.

“Some of those rumors are true. Don’t be so beef-headed, miss y/n,” he tilts his head as he watches you. “Standing in front of this bucket of blood. Right where you stand, Yunho murdered a man.” Seonghwa flicks his gaze to the grass, pursing his lips. “Speaking of that, being alone is risky. This town ain’t as safe as the sheriff makes you think. Better to get to your home, something’s going down in a few clicks or so.”

Another shout comes from the bar, and Seonghwa sighs. “Go ta Yeosang’s place. Lock your doors, and don’t go by those windows.”

He kisses his horse’s face once more before walking around you, his arm brushing lightly against yours. He glances at the spot, eyes focused on yours. His expression is unreadable, and he nods once before, pulling his gun from the holster, kicking open the bar doors. You take that as your cue, half running, half jogging to the hotel. You ignore the whistles and shouts from the people standing not too far away from the front, running to your door and shutting it behind you.

The gun shots ring around you as you cover your ears, shaking as each one shoots through the air. A deadly reminder that you don’t belong here, that you should be home in modern society. That no matter how cool it is to be in the wild west, it isn’t cool to think about one of those gunshots ending up inside of you.

You need to get home.

-

“Won’t be that bad of an idea,” he says, brushing off her coat slowly. You lean against the tall pole next to his stall. He eyes you for a moment, scanning your skeptical expression before sighing. “We need to arrest them, y/n. Take them in for their crimes.”

“And why do you need me? I was in that jail for a reason, one that I don’t know. You’re being so harsh on them, and easy on me.” You flick off a leaf that falls, waiting for his response. You might be digging yourself into a hole, but it’s the only thing that you could think would stop him from this crazy idea of his. There’s no way you’d try to infiltrate their ranks, the risk is too high. These men aren’t like the ones back home.

“You’re not a threat. Don’t sense the bad mojo on you, can tell by looking into your eyes. You'll be safe; no harm will come to you. Bet a cat’s foot on it.” He snaps his fingers, winking at you.

You narrow your eyes. “Bet your life.”

Hongjoong widens his eyes as he looks at you. “I… no, miss y/n, that’s-”

“Yea yea, superstition and all.”

“You don’t believe in that?” He asks, watching as you shake your head. “Gotta be careful, miss. You’re a good one, that I know.

“Do you?”

“Mama ain’t raise no fool,” He says simply, patting Angel. “Be careful, you hear? Those men aren’t as kind as they may show you. Killed too many to consider them friendlies. Those men ain’t nothing but trouble. Don’t want to see you hurt. But if you don’t accept their invitation under the eyes of me, they might insist in ways I cannot help you with.”

You purse your lips. They’re walking freely through the town, through the darker sides that you don’t see right here. It’s a bit strange; shouldn’t they be put in jail? You’re sure that Hongjoong knows that’s their bar, and yet he hasn’t stormed it and arrested them. Angels neighs softly, stomping her feet. Hongjoong mumbles something against her fur, brushing hairs away from her eyes.

“Why don’t you just arrest them? You know where they’re at, right? Or is there some law that doesn’t allow you to?”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nods slowly. “Forgot about that place. Can’t arrest them if that town doesn’t want me to. You see, they’re infamous bandits in Mist, but not there. I dropped you off just outside of Mist, a smaller town called Halazi. Because the laws are different there, those slickers didn’t cause any ruckus there, so they ain’t going to be arrested. Deputy doesn’t allow me to’ even arrest any bodies there, especially those men. Brings in money to their town. Ain’t going to give that up anytime soon.” Hongjoong’s eyes flick to you.

“Assume you've seen them? Have they spotted ya?” You don’t respond, and he sighs. “Ah, you have then. Just… don’t get too close then. Please. And if you do, at least let me know before something happens. So I can keep an eye on you.”

You nod. “Of course, I won’t.”

-

“Joong’s paranoid. You’ll be fine. These boys don’t mess with no innocents, only the likes of them,” Jongho says, cleaning off a tray with mysterious blood on it. “Can’t believe he didn’t chain you to a fence, in all honesty. That Sheriff is a good one, but scared of a fly.” He clicks his tongue, washing his hands before looking at your wound again. “Ah, it’s healing well, ain’t it? Your skin is going to be pretty again, miss y/n, don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” You say, smiling. “But I think he has reasons to worry. I didn’t exactly tell him the complete truth.”

Jongho raises his eyebrows. “Hm?”

You rub your arm, looking at the healing cut as you speak. “I met the guys. All of them; San, Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa. They wanted me to join their ranks, something about me being alluring. I refused, but then they responded that I won’t be refusing for much longer? I have no idea what that means, but in my honest opinion-”

“Sounds like a threat,” Jongho whispers slowly, and you nod. “Joong ain’t tell you ‘bout their crimes, did he? Nothing except the little flyers he has hanging round town?” You shake your head.

“San can tell his own story; it’s a big one, one that’ll take too long,” he grins. “The others joined after he decided to leave. Joong and them, friends for a long time. Since they were little ones, until he left. Yunho used to be my assistant, until he went away. Wooyoung is a mystery; lived here his whole life but decided to leave when Yunho did. Seonghwa was Joong’s partner, unofficially. Glued to his side like a worm in the gravel on a hot day. When they had a falling out, he was distraught, choosing between his two friends. Joong ain’t never going to forget when Seonghwa left him.”

“Their crimes are not as serious as it seems. Yes, they burglarized and murdered, but thestories behind each of them are cause for protest. They ain’t ever raised their pistols to an innocent, that’s why Joong ain’t that worried about you in that regard. Only murderers and people who gone against them but for good reasons, in my humble opinion,” Jongho begins cleaning off your cut.

“Then why does Hongjoong want them arrested? If they didn’t actually do anything horrible?”

Jongho thinks for a moment. “In a way, it’s ‘cause he’s heartbroken. But also, just because a person is bad don’t mean you go ‘round killing. There’s due process; jail, and from there punishment.”

He grins as he looks at you. “Like Wooyoung, for a teeny example. He killed many, but all of their crimes were dark, too explicit to even tell ya. Seonghwa hasn’t killed, that I know of but most of the others have. Yunho usually sits in the bars at night, though. More of an informant if anything.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t tell Hongjoong then,” you mumble to yourself, Jongho listening along. “He has a grudge and rightfully so, but some things should just be kept to myself. I think he’d take me out of Yeosang’s hotel immediately if he found out,” You tease, causing Jongho to chuckle.

“He would've, My lips are sealed, swallowing the key. But I’m still keeping an eye on you, don’t you forget that. Keep your ears cleared and your eyes open, miss y/n. Them guys ain’t that bad, but there’s trouble always surrounding them. Don’t join them, not even under fallacies. Those boys can sniff a rat amongst the willows.”

He taps your arm as he finishes. “Come back again, no one ever comes to see little ‘ol me.” He leans against the counter, looking at you. It looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t do anything but give you that signature grin. “Tell them, especially Yunho, I said howdy if you ever come ‘cross again. Big part of me thinks you will.”

He winks.

-

You’re not sure how you ended up here. In the middle of a field, flowers and other plants are seen for miles. Taking a small hike, you only expected more dirt and pesky bugs. You’re not sure if any diseases from the mosquitoes are actually cured by now, but it frightens you whenever one of them lands on you. You hum to yourself softly, letting the soft breeze swirl around you. It’s been a few weeks in between Mist and Halazi. You’ve seen San, Wooyoung, and the others more often than you’d like, their words enticing you more and more. But you’ve resisted for the most part, avoiding them whenever you turn the corner.

San and Wooyoung have been particularly insistent. You already moved out of Yeosang’s hotel, and into a room and board, farther away from the bar. But it seems like every time you step out of the doors, those two aren’t as far away.

Despite your very thinning resistance, you’ve ignored their requests for the most part. Even though Jongho told you that their crimes aren’t as bad as you may think, you don’t want to involve yourself with them. Hongjoong is happy as well, hearing from you that you didn’t dare join them. In a weird sort of way, it feels like a mouse and cat game, the duo dropping their cheese in front of your nose, and you running away from it.

“Didn’t expect to see you out here,” A voice behind you hums lightly. You yelp, turning to the voice. Wooyoung stands there, hands tucked into his slacks as he looks at the peonies around you. He tilts his head, eyes flicking to yours. “Thought you left, S was a bit ruffled.” He hums softly, leaning against a rock.

“Did you follow me out here?” You ask sternly. “I told you two I’m not joining your little crew of bandits-”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Ah, watch your words, miss. Just ‘cause we been nice, don’t mean we can’t stop.” He motions his hands in a scissor motion, winking at you. “And I ain’t follow you. Here’s my resting place, ways away from commotion of Halazi. And it’s my mama’s land, so you’re intruding, not I.” He grins at you. “Could get yourself shot, miss y/n.”

Your heart drops to your stomach as you scramble to your feet, panic in your eyes. “Shit- I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

Wooyoung wiggles his fingers, shaking his head. He reaches back, putting the hat on his head as he watches you. “Mama ain’t so easy to forgive, lucky she ain’t see you out here. But, since I did catch you,” He taps his finger against his pouty lips, pretending to think deeply. “You owe me now, don’t you?”

His eyebrows raise as his lips slowly curl into an evil grin. You mentally slap yourself. What were you thinking? All land must have been owned around here, it is a small town after all. And look at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Wooyoung watches as you go through the hoops in your mind, your nose scrunched up as your eyes flick back and forth. He rests on the rock easily, humming again.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Can’t think of any at this very moment. Get back to you?” He says, “But we gotta shake on it. Can’t be having some white lies told, you know?” He holds out his hand. If you looked closely enough you could have seen the slightly wicked look in his eyes, the pure lust as your fingers curled around his for a shake. He lifts up your entwined hands, pressing his lips against it lightly.

“Best get a move on, Mama be home soon enough. Can’t be having any daisies ‘round, she carries the big guns.” Wooyoung flicks his head, “Unless you’d like to stay. I have enough room for a visitor.”

You’re at least fifty percent sure he’s asking for you to twist the sheets with him, as they say. Or in your language, fuck. Your face warms furiously as you pull your hand out of his, shaking your head.

“As you said, I need to get moving.”

He watches as you walk past him, eyes struggling to keep them on only your head, nothing lower. It’s not common to see a lady dressed in tight-fitting clothing, and little did you know, they were luring away the men who dared to creep on you. Stares are fine, but the words that Yunho heard in the bars... Speaking of that, his eyes move to look in the distance, at the cowboy that’s been watching you as of late. Wooyoung moves away from his rock, fingers lingering to his holster as he begins his approach.

-

“They’ve killed again,” A voice says softly between the crowd. You don’t pay any mind, knowing who they’re talking about. You can’t quite keep up with the drama that happens with the Leaders, their names constantly at the edge of people’s tongues. Instead, you push your way through and stay in the library, also owned by Yeosang.

He sits in the corner as you read through books, trying desperately to find a way back to your time. You think you’ve had enough of the sand in places you’d rather not mention, and the lack of water to take showers in. You’re sure someone saw you trying to clean yourself in a pond. Oddly, though, the guys didn’t smell bad. But you’d rather not dwell on that thought.

“You've been here for three days, miss,” Yeosang says, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. “Can just ask what you're looking for, youknow.”

You shake your head. “What if I told you I’m trying to figure out a way to go to the future, where you’re part of a boyband?”

Yeosang stays quiet for a moment, before he chortles to himself, shaking his head. “Spent too long with Jongho, sounding just like him. Boy band? Is that some sort of Sheriff department?”

You hold back your laughter, “Maybe I have been around Jongho too long.” These books in front of you could barely help you, most just telling you about folk tales, things you don’t need to know about right now. You put the books back on the shelves, thanking Yeosang before walking out. You hear a loud crowd in the distance, and squint, seeing men wearing black, surrounding someone on the ground. Your stomach drops once you recognize the figures from this distance.

Stay away, you say to yourself, keep under the radar. They already want you a part of them, and involving yourself in things like this would only entice them more. Make you tied up in drama you have no business being in. You look away, despite the growing yelling. This isn’t Hongjoong’s town; he’d never show up. But some part of you tells you to look, and you see someone running up to them. A shotgun is in their fingers, the Leaders’ backs to him.

Your eyes widen. He’s going to shoot them. He’s going to kill them with their backs to him. Your body immediately starts running, barely keeping yourself on your two feet as you breathe through your nose, pushing through randoms walking around. The man is so close, so very close. You might be too late, you might see one of them being killed -

San stands just over the man on the ground, an angry sneer on his lips as he aims his gun at him. Wooyoung stands next to him, Seonghwa on the opposite side with Yunho staring down at him. They don’t see the man aiming his gun, eyes narrowed as he adjusts his shot.

“San, move!” You scream, feet away. The shotgun man turns around as you yell, but turns back, finger slowly pressing on the trigger. You leap, shoving your body against San as the shot rings through the air. You’re not too sure where the others are, too focused on getting him out of danger.

You both fall to the ground in a loud thump, his body somehow rolling on top of yours. You hear commotion behind the two of you as you take heavy breaths, eyes on one another. He looks between yours, flicking around your face. A hand reaches out, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“Shit, you got a cut. What the fuck were you thinking, funning in front of a shot like that?” He curses, anger in his voice. But you can only see the worry reflected in his eyes as he looks over you. “Don’t be stupid,” he hisses.

“If you paid more attention to who’s around you maybe I wouldn’t have to be stupid, stupid.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Stubborn gal.”

“Quit kissing faces and get up,” You hear a voice above the both of you, anger dripping from his words. You look back, seeing Wooyoung staring down at the both of you. “No time for flirting. Gotta show them no mercy.”

San looks down at you, a silly grin on his lips. “W sounds a bit cheeky, don’t he?” He lifts himself away from your body, holding out his hand to help you up. Reminds you of the first time you’ve met him, saved from the prison. But this time, Wooyoung helps you up from behind, San slowly dropping his arm.

Wooyoung glares at the blood dripping from your forehead, ignoring the scowls his partner gives him. “S is right, you know. Keep yourself outta trouble, you here? Ain’t want you to join us this way.” He grabs something from his back pocket. It’s a roll of cloth, he wraps it around the small wound, whistling.

He secures it with a metal clip, smiling lightly at his handy work before straightening his back, looking at the others. Yunho and Seonghwa stay silent, exchanging looks, while San’s fuming, his glare having the potential to melt any man who receives it. You can tell that Wooyoung knows he’s furious but chooses to ignore it, eyes moving to the man on the ground that attempted to kill them.

Some people that you don’t recognize hold him down. San crouches over, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Lucky this darling here is watching,” San stands. “Hwa. Take care of him, have other matters to tend to.” His eyes look at you. “Follow me.”

-

San paces around the room, Wooyoung sitting in the furthest corner. He watches you silently, darker eyes blinking rarely. His trenchcoat that drapes to the floor is oddly terrifying, making your eyes look over to him every so often. A part of you itches to speak up and ask exactly why he isn't blinking, but now seems like the wrong time. Yunho and Seonghwa are dealing with the man who tried to assassinate San, somewhere in the Halazi station. You bite your lip nervously, wondering why they insisted on you coming with them. They gave you room to refuse, of course, their gentlemanly cowboy ways superseding their need to speak with you.

San finally stops pacing, stopping a few feet away from you. "You’re strange." He says softly, eyes looking through his hair. "Can't seem to' wrap my noggin 'round you. Cold Cool as a winter's morn' but warm as Mama's sweet apple pie."

...

"Um—"

"You tell us to stay away, and we do for most parts." San nods at that. "Keep them sleazy men away from you since you insist on wearing revealing wear." He eyes your pants, before looking away. If you squint, you can see a slight color change to his cheeks.

If they call your pants and very thick shirt revealing, you could only imagine them in your time. Seeing short sleeve shirts and ankles. They'd go mad.

"But you saved me," he mumbles softly, rubbing his bottom lip. "Woo," his eyes flick to his partner. "Don't you think it's awfully strange of miss y/n to help us? Aught to make one wonder.“ He strokes his chin, humming to himself.

Wooyoung’s brows raised slowly, clicking his tongue. “You’re right. Why she helping us? Could’ve just left us for dead. Let the vultures pick off the bones. Seems like this lady cares ‘bout us.”

You can’t help but scoff at them, eyes-rolling. You don’t catch the clenching of Wooyoung’s jaw, San’s eyes narrowing at your action. “Talk about being full of yourselves. If you were anyone else I’d still do the same thing. Don’t try to stroke your ego.”

Wooyoung’s rings glisten as he moves away from the wall, taking slow steps closer to you. “Can’t help but talk like that, hm? It’s been a few now, you should’ve learned.”

“Learned what?” You say, keeping your voice steady. You hear a slight crack in your tone, hoping that they don’t notice. But from the slow curving of their lips, they know.

“Learned that the Leaders are called that for a reason, sweet pea. Learned that we only tolerate so little, and you crossed the line more than once,” he raises his fingers, flicking each one up as he counts. “Too many to even add up, you see.” He slowly tucks his hands in his pocket, chain glistening against his neckline.

San nods along. “That pretty face a’ yours only seems to get you in trouble. You know how many men we’ve fought off? Your feet are golden, darling. And you still walk around here like you own the town. Makes us look weak, and we can’t have that, hm?” He tilts his head, earring brushing against his skin as he eyes you. “Heard you owe Woo a favor.”

You don’t know whether to be frightened, scared, or a third thing. You watch as Wooyoung places his hat to the side, loosening his jacket. Your eyes glue to his exposed skin like you’re a deprived man from the 1700s seeing ankles for the first time. He reaches for his rings, but stops himself, smirking.

“You like the rings on me, don’t you?”

You swallow slowly, and San raises his eyebrows at you. “Answer the question, darling.”

“I do.” You say, seeing Wooyoung glance back at you. He slowly takes off his vest, leaving the loose-fitting shirt the only thing covering his chest from the both of you. San’s eyes drift over Wooyoung’s figure, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. But you can see the piercing gaze that Wooyoung gives him, the need dripping from his pupils as he looks back. Your heart pumps in your chest, quickly realizing what’s happening.

“I have the favor ready,” Wooyoung says softly, loosening the first few buttons. You see the golden shine of his chest as he moves closer, now inches away. “Ready to hear?” His voice rumbles in his chest, surly. His eyes lazily slide to your lips, before moving back to your eyes. San slowly approaches, taking off layers of his skin as Woo stares you down.

“Yes.”

He sneers, finger slowly trailing over the curve of your chin, stopping at the corner of your lips. He presses lightly on the skin, “Here’s my favor. Try not to scream, sweet pea.”

“Doubt that, don’t you think? Lady looks like a faucet,” San’s tongue trails over his lips as he watches Wooyoung’s fingers slowly go down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes flutter through trembling breaths as the rough pads of his thumbs dig lightly into your hips, slowly sliding you closer to him.

“There’s always room to say no, sweet pea,” Wooyoung says, barely above a whisper. “We love our ladies rough, but we always respect them. Like true gentlemen,” he snickers lightly. “Well, the gentle part isn’t as true.”

“Remember seeing you for the first time in the calaboose,” San says, watching as Wooyoung’s hands slowly slide underneath your shirt, rubbing lightly against your skin. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, biting his lip each time you twitch under his hold. “Thought you were an owl hoot, there to serve your time, but I suppose not?” He throws his hat to the side, fingers gracing over his pistol, before he lays it on the counter of the saloon.

Wooyoung distracts you, pressing his hips into yours. He slowly brings your body forward, light moans each time you rub against his hard bulge. You try to concentrate on San’s words, but Woo is taking up most of your attention, head leaning down and peppering kisses against your skin.

“Too pretty to be in that place, covered in dirt. Didn’t think I’d see you again, but look at what we've been through! Pistol whips, visits, bumping into one another. Don’t believe in soul’s meeting, but,” San walks to the door of the bar, locking it behind him, putting the closed sign on the outside.

It was open this whole time? Anyone could have walked in, seeing Wooyoung pressing himself against you as San watched. You tremble at the thought, Wooyoung biting your skin lightly.

“You smell too good, sweet pea,” he whispers against your skin. “Wonder if you smell good in other places.”

“Ah, you're spoiling her, don’t you think?” San nudges Woo’s arm. He presses one light peck to your neck before moving back. San stares at you, tilting his head in thought. “Wanted to see you like this for a while now. Didn’t expect to have ‘nother in the room, but that only makes things interesting.”

“Take our time?” Wooyoung asks, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Bar opens in less than a nick’s time. Can’t have any ol’ seeing her like this.”

San sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Choices?”

Wooyoung rubs his chin, glancing at you. “Wait ‘til tonight, might be-a few hours, passed drunk fighting. Or, have sweet pea here and now, tonight can be round two.”

San nods slowly, eyes moving to you. “Your choice, darling.”

“Now.” You say simply.

San’s lip twitches in the corner. “Now? Can’t wait for us, can you?”

Wooyoung snickers, “Look at our sweet pea. She’s trembling just thinking ‘bout what we’d do to her.”

“Or that you’re taking too long to even start,” You say softly, eyebrow flicking in challenge. “Two boys in front of me but neither are even trying.”

You hear a low rumble from Wooyoung’s chest, taking a step forward. San stops him, quirking his brows. “Can’t stop that mouth of yours, hm? Still haven’t learned.”

You reach for your vest, slowly unbuttoning each one. Their eyes trail to your fingers, watching each one come loose. Once you reach the bottom, you toss it to the side, your smirk mirroring there’s from earlier. San moves first, pressing his lips against yours. It’s in no way gentle, feverish as you let him pull off your shirt. Your teeth clash against one another as he loosens his belt, throwing it to the side. You hear a crash, your head slightly turning to the sound. But San’s wandering hands feel your breasts, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“You’re a pretty thang, aren’t ya?” He whispers. You’ve forgotten about the other for a moment, at least until you feel his ring covered hands slowly moving underneath your trousers, tugging them down. San leans back slightly away from you, lifting you up against the counter as Wooyoung takes them completely off, leaving your bottom bare against the counter.

You shiver at the cold of the counters. San slowly spreads your thighs, flicking below. “Ah, you’re soaked, darlin’. Gonna make my bar all dirty.”

You feel the metal of Woo’s fingers press against your core, a low growl falling from his lips as San flicks your nipple, squeezing your breasts. He slowly presses kisses into your skin, covering your nipple with his lips, lightly sucking. You wrap your fingers in his locks as Wooyoung slowly inserts two fingers into you.

“Sucking me right in,” He mumbles, a featherlike kiss pressed just above your clit. You moan as he chuckles, tongue slowly trailing over the nub. Your hips lift forward at the touch, his fingers moving in and out of you quickly. “Feel you squeezing around me, sweet pea. How can I even fit if you’re already this tight?”

He sucks on your slit, enjoying you trembling at his ministrations. San takes your other breast in his mouth as Wooyoung increases the pace, another finger added. You feel him pressing his thumb into the other hole, slightly spreading your ass. You widen your eyes as he uses your slick to press two fingers into it.

“Shit,” You gasp. The buildup to your high is quick, Wooyoung’s eager growls into your cunt, skilled fingers sucking him in with little resistance; San’s soft lips, teeth biting lightly. Plump lips wrap around your slick as your cunt sucks in his fingers with little resistance.‌ Your eyes roll back as you spasm against his fingers. You push him away as you slowly reach the point of overstimulation, his head moving away. You can see your slick covering his cheeks, fingers covered in you.

“As sweet as a pumpkin pie, sweet pea,” he says softly. “Would give Mama a run for her money.”

San rolls his eyes, “Talking bout ya momma right now?” He strips off his pants, your eyes immediately flicking between his thighs. His cock springs out onto his belly, dripping with precum. You groan at the size, until you hear the ruffling of another pair of pants. Their eyes scan your body, too clouded with lust to think of anything else. San’s eyes scan yours, waiting for your consent.

“Both of us, at the same time. Think you can handle that?” He rubs his length slowly, enticing you.

“Think you can handle me?” You say, smiling up at him.

His eyes go dark, your face reflects his eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours. “Lift up for me, darling. W is gon’ take your behind, I’ll take you right here…” he cups your cunt.

You get off of the counter when he lets go, Wooyoung replacing you. He looks at the clock, worry in his eyes. “Less than cooking time now.” He looks at you. “Your words say a lot, let's see if we can prove it true.”

You slowly move forward, San slapping your ass as you press your lips against Wooyoung’s. His fingers curl in your hair, kiss much more gently than San’s. His tongue plays with yours slowly, before he pulls back. Through the lust, you can see the tender look he gives you. Something you haven’t seen from him.

“You’re doing so well. Can’t wait to see you sitting on me.”

You roll your eyes, turning around as he laughs. He helps you sit on his lap backward, his cock twitching against your ass as he groans, licking the curve of your neck. “Ready for me, sweet pea?”

“Yes.”

You slowly sink on his cock, fingers digging into his thighs at the stretch. His descent into you is slow, his lips pressing against your neck as you groan, trying his best to distract you from the burning feeling. You sit there for a moment, the overwhelming feeling of your ass being filled distracting you from San for a moment. Wooyoung continues to press kisses into your skin, until San clicks his tongue.

His cock looks as if it's almost vibrating, waiting. “Ready for me, darling?”

San watches as you nod for him, moving towards you. He wastes no time; rocking his cock a couple of times before sinking into your cunt with vigor. You didn’t realize how long he is; the head of his cock nudging at your cervix. You moan, his balls resting at the entrance. You feel more full than you’ve ever did before, your mind consumed with only them.

Wooyoung moves tentatively, fingers digging into your hips as he moves.

“Relax up, y/n,” San mumbles, rubbing your arm softly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forehead pressing against one another. “Can feel you movin’, W.”

“Move, fuck… move, or else I’ll cum right into her,” Wooyoung says through clenched teeth, moaning every time he feels your rim squeeze against his cock. San lets out a breath as he slowly drags his cock out of you. His gaze moves between your legs, watching as Wooyoung’s cock moves, his disappear in and out of you.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” he mumbles.

You open your mouth to reply, but he takes that chance to sink into you quickly, pressing lips against yours. Your combined moans echo in the room as they move in sink; San in, Wooyoung out. Wooyoung pushing in, San moving away. The rolling of San’s hips hitting yours with ease, skin pressing against your clit each time he pushes in. Wooyoung’s hips move with the force of San; not stuttering once.

“Faster,” You encourage, causing Wooyoung to laugh behind you.

“You’re real different, y/n,” he says, but his body agrees with your request, picking up the pace. The feeling of being moved between both of their bodies, Wooyoung’s shirt covered chest pressing into your back, San’s sweat dripping onto you makes you weak, your breaths stuttering.

You hear a knock on the door. San’s pace quickens, hips becoming bolder as he collides with you, the squelching sounds echoing in the small bar. Wooyoung’s grip is so tight, you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. They don’t seem to care about how loud their being, the knocks disappearing quickly.

San groans as he slowly reaches his high. “Gon’ empty in you, y/n. Tell me no, if you don’t want it.”

“San,” You struggle through your gasps, and he grins at you, your eyes moist and head thrown back. “Please.”

“You’re doing so well for me, y/n. Look so pretty underneath me. But I n-need to know-”

“Cum in me,” You say through gasps. “Both of you.”

His groan makes your body tremble. Your fingers are probably putting cuts into Wooyoung’s thighs as you scream, cunt squeezing against their cocks as you finally cum.

Wooyoung’s muscles strain as he holds you up, veins popping out on his arm as he revels in the feeling of your cunt around him. His hips seem to only go faster and faster, trying to hit his high. But once the squeeze of your rim tightens against his cock, he groans, pressing in once more. His hips sputtering as his cock-squeezing out his cum.

San isn’t too far away, desperate gasps as he slams his balls against your cunt. He pushes in once, twice, before his hips sputter, his balls slapping against you. You feel the hot of his cum hit your walls, his warm body pulling you into his chest, pressing kisses into your forehead. Wooyoung wraps his arm around you from behind, your pants echoing around the room.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. We got five,” San mumbles, his cock popping out of you. The smell of sex surrounds you all as he quickly grabs a piece of cloth from the side, slowly cleaning you off. He grins at the mess they made between your legs, Wooyoung taking his cock out. San presses the fabric into your holes as you whine, pushing him away.

“Wait.”

“Can’t have the children on the floor, darling,” San winks. “W, bring her to the back. Can’t have her ‘round when the doors open.”

Wooyoung wastes no time in picking you up with a yelp, holding you gently as he carries you to the doors behind the bar. He looks at you, pushing your hair away from your face.

“Haven’t seen you more beautiful than now, sweet pea.”

He lightly places you on the bed, looking around for a water bucket. Once he finds it, he slowly cleans you up, humming softly. You don’t know what to say. What’s your relationship now? Are they going to throw you away right after this, a one time thing? You’re not even sure if you want to continue it, but the thought of never seeing them again makes your stomach twist.

Wooyoung seems to see the conflicting emotions on your face, because he stops bringing the pants up your legs, lightly cupping your cheek with his hand. “We ain’t gon’ give you up that easily, sweet pea. If you want us, that is.”

You widen your eyes, holding back your smile as you look at him. “So, this isn’t a one time thing? You’re not gonna toss me away?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “When you hit gold, do you just throw it away? No, you cherish it, keep it as your own. We want you as ours, sweet pea.” he looks into the distance. “All of us do.”

“…All of you?”

Wooyoung gives you a lopsided smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You thought we two were the only ones?”

[ermdotorg]

i rewrote newt's death scene when i finished reading the books awhile back. it's basically the movie and book death combined in flashback form from a little safe haven au i ended up scraping.

i did have to watch the scene in the movie and read the scene in the book which was actually awful— but i think it came out okay despite the sobs i had to write it through.

lmk how you feel about it lol <3

cw: canon violence, mean words, death, and tragic gays

“Shut your mouth you shuck traitor.” Newt rasped, chest heaving with exhaustion as he sat atop of Thomas, eyes mad and bearing into him painfully, “Didn’t you read my note? You couldn’t do this one last, lousy thing for me? I hate you, I’ve always hated you!”

The pair began wrestling, Newt fighting to strangle him and Thomas holding the wrists of the other in an attempt to save himself. He knew he didn’t mean it, but every word felt like a bullet to his heart, “Newt, please, please stop.”

“You could’ve stopped them, the Creators, you could’ve figured out a way. But no! You had to keep going, try to save the world, be a hero. And you came into the Maze and never stopped! You only ever cared about yourself, admit it! Gotta be the one people remember, the one they worship! We should’ve tossed you right down the damn Box Hole!” Every word seemed to tire him further, but he kept going nonetheless, fighting Thomas with monstrous strength.

“I hate you Tommy!” he cried, “After everything I did for you, everything, you can’t even do the one bloody thing I ask? I don’t even want to look at your shuck ugly face!”

“Newt,” he muttered, pain overrun by fear, “I can’t-”

“I should rip your eyes out.” the sick boy seethed, bearing teeth, “Teach you a lesson in stupidity.” he paused, fighting Thomas’ grasp for a moment, “Told you about me jumping off the bloody walls, didn’t I?”

He nodded, entirely engulfed by terror as the other continued, “I hated that place Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was… all… your… fault!”

His friend suddenly dropped his arms and reached for the gun holstered on Thomas’ side, pressing the nose of it to his own temple as he squeezed his eyes shut, ready. Thomas shouted and lurched forwards, knocking it far across the pavement before shoving Newt off and scrambling to stand.

“Kill me Tommy!” Newt called hoarsely, struggling to his feet.

He shook his head violently as the other unveiled a knife from his belt, one he'd recognized as his own, “I– I can’t.”

“Make amends!” he screeched before hurling towards Thomas, the blade swinging in every direction as he narrowly avoided it, horrified at the words, at what the other wanted from him. “Repent for what you did! Kill me you shuck coward! Prove you can do the right thing. Put me out of my misery.”

He trembled as they circled one another, the weapon still clutched in the sick boy’s hand, “Newt maybe we can-”

“Shut up! Just Shut up! I trusted you, only you, with the note. Just do it!”

How could he possibly ask this of him? How could he say such things? “I can’t! I can’t.”

“Do it!”

“I can’t!”

Newt ran at him again, this time successfully throwing both of them to the ground as he fought to drill a knife into the flesh over Thomas' heart. He gripped his friend's wrists, groaning with effort as the other fought against him, “Kill me before I become one of those cannibal monsters!”

“I can’t.” he rasped, attention locked on the losing battle between them. He felt the tip of the blade push into his skin, and he cried out as it shoved further in. He felt the pain, the sting of something foreign breaking through flesh, but nothing could compare to the fear of not being able to hold his friend off any longer.

Suddenly Newt released his hold, the weapon thrown a few feet to their right as Thomas hissed in pain, looking up to see his friend examining their state, eyes clear. “I’m so– I’m sorry Tommy.”

“‘Ts okay, it’s okay Newt.” he murmured, hands still clenched around the others forearms as Newt gripped at his shoulder, breathing heavily. The clarity vanished once more, sickness returning and bidding the blonde to jump off and reach for the blade again. Thomas was on his feet as the other got ahold of the weapon, and there they stood, a short distance between them that felt like worlds away.

“Kill me, or I’ll kill you.” Newt rasped, every word looking painful, “Kill me! Do it!”

“Newt…”

“Do it before I become one of them!”

“I-” he bit down a sob, taking in the other and praying for Minho to return quickly, “I can’t.”

Newt stepped to him, slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, “Kill me.”

Thomas shook his head, unmoving despite the urge. Newt closed the distance until they stood less than a foot apart, the weapon held out at Newt’s side, “Kill me, Tommy.”

“No.” he muttered.

“Kill me!” he shouted, splattering spit over Thomas’ face. It seemed as though it took all of Newt’s efforts to keep himself still, his entire body trembled violently, until it suddenly fell still. Newt met his eyes, which had found sanity once more, and in the lowest, most pitiful voice he whispered, “Please, Tommy. Please.”

He yearned for mercy, and Thomas wanted to grant him it, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t live without him, he couldn’t have done anything without him. He needed him. “Newt I can’t, you’re my–”

Newt gave a guttural cry as the Flare overtook him again, raising the knife which Thomas barely blocked, throwing the blonde away from him as he stepped back, putting as much distance between them as he could. Newt seemed to have lost his voice, because he only watched him with animalistic rage as he turned to face him once more.

Without a word he lunged, slashing the blade over and over until finally they collided, sharp gasps sounding from both of them as they met in an embrace. Thomas wrapped his arms around the other, just for a moment, before he’d have to continue on fighting him until their friends returned with the Serum.

Newt fell still though, ragged breaths turned mute as he leaned away a bit. Thomas pulled back, staring into the boy’s face before turning his gaze down to see the butt of the knife sticking out from Newt's chest, the sheen of metal concealed in his flesh.

[suuuupernovaaa]

kxitx

kxitx [k’it’] n. death

Anonymous Request: Could you write a Neteyam fic where the reader and he are best friends, and she secretly loves him. As in the movie scene, he would be hit, but she jumps in front to save him and ends up getting hit instead. And then she thinks she's going to die, and confesses her feelings to him, so as a last wish, she asks him for a kiss. After all, it was just a scare, she survives and then wakes up and doesn't know what to do, because she's embarrassed that she did that whole scene in front of him and everyone else.

1,622 words

TW: blood

Everything up to this point has happened at the speed of light. Removing the tracker from the tulkun, running from the Sky People, rescuing Neteyam's siblings; it has all gone by with a snap of my fingers, due to the rush of adrenaline.

What happens next slows time, bringing it almost completely to a stop. The gun fires, one amongst many, but I know the bullet is heading for Neteyam. Right for his heard.

I can feel it, in the water. It must be Ewya, warning me. With only a second to spare, I shove Neteyam just a few inches to the right.

Just a few inches, and I take the bullet myself. It's in my shoulder, near my chest, and no one notices I've been hit.

Neteyam grabs my arm, pulling me into the sea, and the saltwater rushes into my wound. I scream into the ocean, but swim behind him, desperate and in blinding hot pain.

When we surface, Lo'ak is laughing triumphantly, but Neteyam can see the blood in the water.

"She's been shot!" Neteyam screams, and Lo'ak's smile fades. They pull me to a rock, hoisting me on as my right side begins to go numb, which is almost a relief. Every inch of this short journey has been agonizing.

I lay on the jagged rocks, watching the Sully children surround me.

"Is that why you shoved me? Y/N, you moron!" He presses his hand to the wound, and when he pulls them back for one second, I see they are covered in blood.

In my blood.

My vision is growing cloudy and I'm sure I'm dying. I think of my mother, and what she will do when she finds out. I think of my father, and how he will suffer in silence for the rest of my life.

I think of Neteyam, my dearest friend and closest companion, and how I have always loved him, but never told him.

"Kiss me," I say, placing my hands on top of his, feeling the wetness of the blood that is pouring out of me.

Neytiri and Jake have joined, and they hover above me too. Everyone is speaking. Someone is holding my hand. Neteyam's eyes are wild and wide.

He does not hesitate. As I fade away, I feel Neteyam's soft, warm lips on mine, and I hear Neytiri scream.

--

When my eyes open, it is not Ewya I see before me. I am not wrapped in her warm embrace, in a comfortable afterlife.

I am back home, resting on a soft bed in a mauri pod, and Ronal hovers over me.

"You're awake," she says softly. My eyes take a moment to adjust. The glow from outside is orange, the color of dusk, and the pain is at bay for just a few moments.

And then it hits me. My entire shoulder is white hot, pulsating, and I wince, closing my eyes again.

"The wound is cleaned and dressed, but you will need something for the pain now that you are awake." She reaches out for my hands, and I reluctantly reach back. "Come now. You must move, just a little. You have been asleep a long time."

"How long?" I ask through gritted teeth as she slowly helps me sit upright.

"Four days."

Footsteps approach rapidly, and I turn, looking over my shoulder to see some of the Sullys - Jake, Neytiri, and Neteyam.

"She's awake!" Neytiri gasps, and rushes forward first.

"Gently," Ronal advises, as Neytiri leans before me, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Y/N, my sweet girl." Tenderly, she pulls me into her arms, and something inside of me snaps to be held like this, by a mother.

I miss my own. I wish she was here. I was so sure I would never see her again, and it's overwhelming to simply be breathing. I close my eyes and rest my head on her shoulder, as tears fall down my cheeks. The sobbing shakes my body, which hurts my shoulder, and makes me cry harder.

"I know," Neytiri whispers. "You miss your mother."

Of course she knows. Neytiri is smarter than anyone else I have ever known, and has always treated me as an extension of her family. She knows me nearly as well as my own mother.

"Come, girl," she says, leaning back. "Let us go home, and you can rest."

Jake and Neteyam approach next, each grabbing an arm and helping me slowly to my feet. I let out a sharp exhale.

"Can you walk?" Jake asks, and before I can answer, I am swept off my feet by Neteyam. "Never mind," Jake replies, raising his eyebrows. He and Neytiri share a smile that I don't miss - and then I remember.

The kiss.

Oh shit, the kiss.

My dying wish was that Neteyam kiss me - surely he isn't going to let that go.

I am too tired, and in too much pain, to really worry about it now. But as Neteyam walks, cradling me in his arms, I want to bring it up.

"I'm so relieved," he tells me as we walk towards the beach, and our home. "You can't ever do that again. We all thought you were going to die. We thought we watched you die."

"Well, I didn't," I reply, a little bit annoyed but mostly touched by his speech.

The trust is, I would take a bullet for Neteyam again. I would do it every chance I could. He is that dear to me, and he has been since we were eight years old. I would move the sky and the earth to keep him safe, and there is no guarantee that this bullet would not have killed him. I know I did the right thing.

"You should have seen us all, Y/N," he says, his face grave. "I'm so glad you're alive."

We are silent the rest of the walk, and Neteyam takes me to the pod that he, Lo'ak and myself have been sharing. Lo'ak, Tuk and Kiri wait there. Neytiri lays down the supplies that Ronal sent, with instructions for Kiri on how to care for my wound, though I know she already knows how.

Tuk rushes into my arms, and her mother chides her to be careful, but I bend down anyway and pull her to me. I feel terrible that Tuk had to witness what she thought was someone dying, at such a young age.

Lo'ak and Kiri greet me similarly, before their parents usher them out, telling them I need rest. Neteyam lingers behind, and I reach for his hand.

"Stay. I don't want to be alone."

He nods. "Of course."

Tenderly, he helps me settle down, and without a word, lays next to me. I'm lying propped up on my back, and Neteyam lays on his side, his arm under his head, staring at me. Having him near me is relaxing, and after what I've been through, it makes me feel safe.

"Stop staring," I say with a smile.

"Never. I thought you died."

I turn to meet his eyes, to tease him some more, but I see his serious expression, the corners of his mouth turned down, his furrowed brow, and I decide not to.

"I didn't. And I don't regret what I did, Neteyam. I would do it every day, to keep you safe."

His frown deepens. "You don't need to keep me safe. I'm supposed to keep you safe."

I reach over, and take his hand in mine once again. "We keep each other safe. I'm safe. And so are you. So we're doing a good job."

A comfortable silence settles over us, and I close my eyes. I have never felt so tired. Neteyam holds my hand in his, tracing soft circles into my skin, and I sigh. I want to lay here forever, just like this.

"I know you're, uh, recovering from being shot and all but... are we going to talk about it?" he asks.

The corners of my mouth reluctantly turn up in a smile, but I don't open my eyes. "About what?"

"Y/N, you believed you were dying, and you asked me to kiss you. I think that makes your dying wish... a kiss. From me."

"Well, you were closest."

I can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, "Lo'ak was holding your hand. You could have asked him. Kiri would have also kissed you."

Finally, I open my eyes, and turn to stare at him. "Fine. I didn't want to kiss anyone else. I wanted to kiss you, and I have always wanted to kiss you. I didn't want to die without you knowing that. But I lived, so you don't have any obligation. We can just pretend it never happened."

"Or, I could kiss you again," he replies immediately, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at me. "I could kiss you every day, for the rest of our lives. Which I promise you, will be long - very long lives."

Suddenly, I can't feel the burning pain in my shoulder anymore. My head doesn't feel so heavy. I am revived.

"Yes, that would be good too," is all I can come up with in response.

Neteyam leans down, slowly, and presses his lips to mine.

Our first kiss was marred by pain, panic and confusion; this is soft and slow, and I can feel the promise of tomorrow and every day after in it.

When he pulls away, we're both smiling.

"I'm glad I got shot," I tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"Go to sleep, Yawne."

So I do, within moments, feeling more safe and secure than I ever have, bullet wound be damned.

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ only, please. Language, sexual themes, beefy Bucky

Masterlist

Sebastian Stan

@sergeantbarnessdoll (sorry it's short, dear, but I hope you enjoy it!)

He texted hours ago hoping you’d be home when he got in. All he could think about was curling up on your couch, cuddling down with some movies and some snacks before taking a very extended nap. Maybe some other fun stuff, too. 

Nap first though, he needed some sleep, possibly food before that happened. 

He smiles when your car comes into view, his driver dropping him off beside it. Every step closer makes his stomach warm with being home, being with you. 

“Hey baby,” He calls out when he swings the door open, “I’m putting my stuff in the bedroom real quick.” The TV is on, the mumble of voices growing faint as he drops his suitcase off. He hears you laugh, a sharp bark, and he grins before slipping into a pair of sweats and making his way toward the living room. 

He hears the music first and pauses in the doorway — it takes a moment to recognize what you’re watching. When the scene shifts and he sees RDJ he laughs — startling you. 

“Dude,” You look back at him, “Oh, Hello.” 

Seb wiggles his fingers. “Hello to you as well.” 

You flush, fidgeting, “Welcome home.” 

He moves through the living room, sitting on the couch behind you. You shimmy until you’re between his legs and he can drop a kiss on your head, “Mind if I ask why you’re watching Civil War?” 

“Yara and I played a drinking game last night for how many times Steve and Tony say each other’s names. We started with Avengers Assemble but made our way to the movies. I got kind of hooked again and had to keep watching them.” Your eyes never stray from the movie, even as your hand reaches back to grab his.

“Right here.” You point at the screen, “They forgot to put your arm on, or CGI it, whatever, but you can see your real arm and lemme tell you -” You lean forward, “Beefy Bucky is the best.” 

“Beefy Bucky?” He squeezes your hand. 

“Yes.” 

Sebastian watches the screen, eyes following Iron Man as he fights against the Winter Soldier. He remembers the choreography of this scene, how many takes it took, and when he’d switched out with his stunt double. 

He follows Chris chasing after him and watches Bucky try to fly the helicopter away.

“Yeah, I got beefy for this movie,” He pauses. “I felt like I had to size up to the others, which thinking about it now, makes no sense. The only one who I was up against, in my mind, was Chris.” 

“Cap is an asshole.” He knows you have a little frown. “Poor Bucky, though.” 

He laughs, “Yeah poor Bucky.” Both of you keep watching the movie playing on and he has to admit it’s been a while since he’s seen it. Everyone did an amazing job and watching Chadwick- it squeezes his heart. 

“Oh! Oh!” You jump forward, “You missed it, ugh. The fucking motorcycle scene. Baby, babe, he literally throws someone off the bike, but my god it’s gorgeous. Bucky is gorgeous.” 

“First off,” He pokes your shoulder, “That’s my stunt double you’re calling gorgeous. Second, you know I play Bucky, right? Me? The man who is currently sitting behind you?” 

“Yes,” You look back at him, “and you’re hot while doing it.” 

He grins at you, raising a brow when you turn around to face him, “You know, when I first saw this movie I was super drunk and told my partner at the time I was going to suck your soul through your dick.” 

Seb jerks a moment, his stomach tightening. “Yeah?”

“Never fucking thought I’d get the chance though, one in a million shot, right?” He didn’t notice you pausing the movie until the music stopped. 

Your hands trail up his legs as you rise to your feet. “You said you read some comics, right?” 

He grabs your hips, sliding his hands up your back as you settle in his lap, “Some. Why?”  

Your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “You’re too tall.” 

Seb blinks, “What?” 

“Bucky is only five foot nine in the comics, I think? I’ll have to check.” Seb shakes his head, your fingers touching the edge of his jaw. “I think you make a great Bucky, though. Really brings him to life.” 

He squeezes your waist, digging his fingers in until you squirm in his lap. “You’re welcome.” 

That earns him a wicked smile, your tongue coming out to wet your lips. He follows the path, thinking about the feels of your lips against his and how warm your mouth would be around him. He leans forward to kiss your chin, then your cheek, over to your lips.  

You pause for a breath, “On a scale of one to ten how cool are you with me shouting Bucky while you fuck me?” 

Seb hums, brushing his lips over yours. “Let’s find out.”

[niobiumao3]

Havoc Marauder Interior

Someone made a post about this a while ago but apparently they de-activated so it is possibly lost to the mists of time. Here is what I put together for myself as a writing reference. Image heavy, meta heavy.

Last edit: 2023/11/03

Edits: Replaced garbage text layout with actual ship overhead. Realized the two concept art images face different directions. This likely explains the magical moving jump seats. Also added discussion of a cargo hold. Added discussion of ship dimensions (specifically length). Replaced old guesstimates with numbers from Dawn of Rebellion. Added commentary about the magical seat.

I think people under- and over-estimate the Marauder's interior potential. Given its overall size and intended use (transporting about 10-15 troops plus assorted equipment and providing air support in a forward area), there's not much room left for creature comforts.

Except the Batch aren't 10-15 people, they're 5, and the shuttle is referred to as modified numerous times. This leaves plenty of room to make assumptions and freeform. So, as to what we have actual, visual evidence for from episodes and concept art, here is a rudimentary floor plan:

An important point about the two concept art images: they do NOT face the same direction. The top image faces to the aft/back of the ship, i.e. the tailgun. The second image faces to the fore/front of the ship.

Number key:

1: We know this is where the ramp and door are located from War Mantle and Metamorphsis.

2: We know about this upper storage area from Cut and Run

3: The access to the tail gun has changed visual from TCW s07e02 and various TBB episodes.

The Magically Appearing/Disappearing Seat

In Cut and Run we have this moment with Hunter and Omega, but in most other shots each of these consoles has only one seat (eg. Tech and Echo in prior frames). I think this is actually NOT a magically appearing seat. I think it's the other console seat, because I suspect they can be moved. I base this one this shot from Replacements:

That looks like a seat with a moveable base.

Obviously this is bad design for a ship which is doing barrel rolls and what-not, so I have to assume they're magnetically locked. Even if it is the same seat, in the shots right before that one above, Omega walks up and it's not in that space. So it's almost like the scene was longer and was shortened, and we missed a few frames of her or Hunter unlocking it and moving it over.

Meta Discussions

tl;dr: I think of the Marauder as a small fishing vessel or a van-conversion RV. You can put a lot into a small space if you get creative.

Bathroom I know the writers have made weird assertions there isn't one and omg they all smell gross from no hygiene but that makes zero sense. Soldiers are constantly under stress, they're getting injured, they need to stay clean when possible or they're going to get sick and die from a systemic infection in short order. Anyone who's glanced in the general direction of military history knows this. You can argue about clone expendibility all you want but the Batch minimally qualify in that regard, being Nala Se's pet project. Can you imagine losing one of them to a staph infection because there's nowhere for them to bust out some no-rinse antimicrobial soap or get their scalp clean? I'm not saying they'll be doing photoshoots in between missions (well maybe Hunter would ) but, come on. (And are you going to tell me Mr. Sensor Sensoria is cool with doing long hauls with 4 people who don't bathe? Just, no.)

But that much aside, anyone who's ever been in an RV, a commercial airliner, or a modest-sized sea vessel knows you can cram a bathroom into a tiny space. Yes, you're going to be spinning in circles doing things, but the benefits of a spot to clean up, manage waste, and tend to injuries far outweigh any other use of that area. So regardless of what the writers say, a transport without a minimal refresher (to use the SW term) is counter to the ship's designed use. It has to be able to accommodate Wrecker, of course, but in the end it can double as storage when not in use. There is zero reason to not have one. Added to this, we now officially have a length for the Marauder, which is 30.3 meters (see below). RVs which are 1/5 of that size have bathrooms. You're going to tell me the Marauder doesn't?

If nothing else, since the TCW episodes and the beginning of S1 have pointed to them going on extended deployments with long hops between stops, they're going to need one or constantly be handling waste in much less efficient and sustainable ways.

Added to all of this, it's specifically called a modified variant of an Omicron. We're probably meant to think this means 'Tech would like to fly faster than the GAR and ship engineers think is reasonable for a shuttle' but IMO it extends to changes like this as well. So, there's a refresher in there, feel free to choose a spot. Right across from the fold out racks is a good candidate because in most imagery it's just weapons storage, and there's an entire upper-deck space which you could use for that.

Galley Definitely not one of these. The Batch are eating rations any time they're not on Kamino. You can make an argument they (and all clone units) have cook kits for improvised eating in the field; in the Batch's case I suspect that's a given, as they'd just start doing it because who's going to stop them? Additionally, the sheer amount of rations you would need to carry around to feed Wrecker would be ridiculous. (Remember when Wrecker talks about never being full in S2E13? I feel like this is an indication they did and still do, in fact, have to improvise a lot of additional caloric intake. Hunter probably thought Cut and Suu's farm was a genius idea. 'Grow your own food! Wrecker will never be hungry again! Fucking incredible.' Then Tech got the ship impounded.) I think you can argue for one being added, like with the refresher. Do they actually need those weapons racks anymore? Definitely no. But, it's not on there by default.

Beds As you can see in the concept art above, there are at least 3 racks that fold out from the wall on the port side. They're at a minimum wide enough to accommodate Wrecker, they may also be long enough for him to not need to curl up (unclear because in this shot from Bounty Lost his knees are bent and he's hugging Lula):

Three is a weird number since originally there were four of them. I figure the options here are:

The pilot/copilot/second row seats all look 100% more comfortable than the racks. We actually see Tech sleeping in one, at one point, so this has actual evidence to support it.

It's war time, they're never all asleep simultaneously. Someone is always flying the ship or on watch.

The floor is in effect the same as a rack, arguably preferable as you can't fall off it in the event Something Happens while you're out. So, one of them might actually be ON the floor sometimes.

They're not really intended to sleep on the ship for extended periods, but narratively we're lead to believe they have, many times, and needed to make adjustments to it as a result. Notice how quickly Wrecker whipped up a bed for Omega? IMO, not the first time they've done something like that--they did it for themselves first.

Cargo Hold Based on that screenshot of Omega above and the below shot from Cut and Run, the 'hold' of the ship is actually a storage area overhead, running the length of the ship. In that shot above of the rack, there are a series of yellow rungs which imply you can climb up somewhere on the port side. This is probably alternate access to that same overhead storage space.

In Cut and Run we see Echo, Omega, and Tech hide in it, coming back out from a slide-open hatch:

Given Tech's height this is probably somewhere around 1.5m high.

We can be reasonably certain the hold isn't under the ship, or at least storage there is minimal, due to a couple of things:

In all instances where the hyperdrive has been pulled, it's under the ship on the belly, and takes up a reasonable amount of space. Eg., in Retrieval, here's a bunch of stuff which has been pulled from the ship:

In instances where they're working on the ship from the outside, like in Cornered, the sides and belly never have panels open which contain empty space unless the ship's hardware have been removed to reach something:

So, the cargo hold is probably that space on the top from Cut and Run. It doesn't have much room; reasonably speaking, the area with the weapons and sleeping racks was probably a cargo hold as well, they just converted it to a more general purpose area. (So IMO this is a stronger argument for putting a commercial airliner-style bathroom in place of the weapons racks, particularly once they bail on the Empire.)

Dimensions - updated 11/3/23 Dawn of Rebellion has a Bad Batch section, and indicates the Marauder is 30.3m in length, 36.65m wide (presumably with the wings extended, and 12.41m tall (this probably includes the central stabilizer).

I will edit this to update it as we get more pictures. Since the toys that I know of have no basis the show from an internal perspective I didn't include anything from them.

Image sources:

All screencaps by me. Use at will.

Marauder underlay

Bad Batch Concept Art, Marauder Interior

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: Obscure Head Canons (and Hypotheses) You’d Probably Develop When Reading the JJK Light Novels, Pt 1

For an anime with literally no filler episodes 🥹... the first light novel provides a brief insight into the days before (and behind the scenes of) the trauma. As someone who thrives on the misery of being a JJK fan, would the experience be complete without them? The answer doesn't matter because everything you need is below the jump! I saved my biggest theory for last so hop to the end for it.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning for Jujutsu Kaisen Summer of Ashes, Autumn of Dust and season 2 of the anime (manga spoilers are vague at best).

Head Canon: Gojo is the Riddler Purely For His Own Entertainment ✨

As someone who can process things the way a Six Eyes holder probably can, there’s no way he allows Yuji and Megumi to get the drop on him during their surveillance of sensei on his day off. But he takes them around (at a distance) doing silly things like record stores and maid cafes because I think it prompts them to enjoy things they wouldn’t. Especially Megumi. It’s kind of sweet, both their inherent curiosity about him but also lonely the way that he explores his whims so far removed from everyone else. It really highlights that “Who is Gojo Satoru?” question when you realize even Megumi’s interest was lowkey piqued at the possibly knowing a bit more about Gojo.

In the second story, Gojo speaks in straight up nonsense (think Mad Hatter) and it is no wonder when he's working alongside the most straight laced sorcerer there is, Nanami Kento. To a degree, I wonder if it’s genuine chaos spilling from his head or if he knows, after years of pushing Nanami’s buttons, how to precisely drive him up a wall. I question whether it's for his own entertainment or to his own alienation. Maybe Geto really was the only one who could follow the winding thread of Gojo’s thoughts.

Head Canon: Gojo Secretly Worries About Nanami

I think with Haibara’s death and the knowledge he would have made light work of whatever caused it, Gojo makes it a point to join Nanami on missions.. just in case. After all, Nanami and Shoko are all he has left from before. He’s lost many people and, as the strongest, I don’t think that fear is something he’d admit aloud, but its reality is demonstrably what pushes him forward physically and philosophically. In the story where they go on a mission together... it almost seems like an unspoken and uncomfortable understanding between them, the elephant in the room neither want to point out. People around Gojo never wanting to acknowledge how his strength eclipses theirs is rather common which we see with Nanami in this story and even Ijichi later. So while he may make light of this chasm, he still pops in as an unsolicited protector. With grace, he allows Nanami to assume he's just being a nuisance but I really think he takes an ounce of prevention where possible when it comes to the people he cares for. After all, imagine the turmoil if he ever came to realize his absence could make or break another person's survival again.

Head Canon: The Elders Have Always Known, If It Came Down to it, Gojo Would Always Choose Geto

There’s a reason they kept the idea of reanimating the dead a secret specifically from Gojo. In fact, they should probably consider themselves lucky that he was so vehemently disgusted with the curse user capable of such puppetry. I wonder if he experienced hope before allowing the reality of the sham magic to break his heart all over again because, in their secrecy, it seems like they know the lengths he’d go to protect and choose Geto. Geto was allowed to walk the earth for 10 years after his execution was ordered. Maybe they were right to keep it close to the chest. Gojo still saved his body, after all. To what end when he knew a body can run the risk of becoming a curse?

Head Canon: Gojo Saved Ijichi's Life but Condemned Him to Something Worse

Okay so this is kind of a manga spoiler (though I believe the flash back is during the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arc) but, as a student, Gojo straight up told Ijichi he was weak and should find something else to do so he doesn't get himself killed. So he does. He becomes a steadfast and detail oriented manager which is a critical fixture in jujutsu society but damn, doesn't it just put Ijichi in an ivory tower of suffering? Years pass as he sends first his juniors, then fresh sets of kids into dangerous battle after dangerous battle. Some survive, some don't and all serve as a reminder of his powerlessness. He can cross every "t" and dot every "i" and it still doesn't prevent what happened to Yuji at the Juvenile center from happening. What does that do to one's soul?

Head Canon: Gojo Still Thinks "We Are the Strongest"

As seen with the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arc, we know that Gojo saw an exponential growth in response to the losses suffered. It seemingly drove a wedge between he and Geto as Geto struggled to grapple with his powerlessness. With his defection, we see where Gojo changes his posturing from "we are the strongest" to "I am the strongest" but in the back of his mind (Alexa, play "Always Forever" by Cults 🫠), we know he still holds a soft spot for his first and last warm spring of youth. At the end of JJK 0, he refers to Geto in the present tense, as his "best friend, [his] one and only." Even after everything, I truly think Gojo leaves space for Geto beside him. This is furthered in the light novel during a story which is placed post Junpei and upon Yuji's return to life at Jujutsu High. Yuji, while still playing dead, helped a kid who had a grade 3 curse that seemed to be resurrecting and, after exorcising it multiple times felt he needed Gojo's assistance. When Gojo refused, he resigned himself to ask Nanamin for help wherein Gojo employed a Teachable Moment (TM).

He approached Itadori, who was hanging his head. "In this world, tragedies too often end in misery, even when it's possible to help. But the problem isn't lack of strength or getting there too late." As Gojo passed Itadori, he patted him on the head without making eye contact. "The main reason it happens is that people forget they have the strength to help."

This was enough to restore Yuji's confidence in his own competence but also sounds informed by what happened between Geto and Gojo in a sense. I interpret Gojo's assertion to center Geto to be the assumed lack of strength (which was most pertinent to how he was advising Yuji) and himself with the poor timing. Ultimately, to Gojo it doesn't matter because he never thought Geto was weak. The insecurity was a product of a situation he failed to reason himself out of, at the time, and it bred resentment within him alone. I don't think Gojo blamed Geto for anything that happened with Riko nor could he blame himself. It simply spurned him to figure out ways to limit his vulnerability in the future. In the face of that loss, Gojo still said they were the strongest and maybe in that moment with Yuji, he was employing a lesson he wished he could have been in a place to tell Geto to quell his festering guilt and grief. You can be strong and still fallible.

Hypothesis: Mimiko and Nanako (and Anyone Else...) Going After Managers is Not a Coincidence

As we saw with JJK 0, Geto's twins were rather merciless in going after the suits who make everything covert about jujutsu society possible. Based on what we knew at the time, the managers provide cover for sorcerers on missions (with curtains, getting them transportation to, providing cover stories) and plug them in with resources as needed. But we begin to realize that managers serve additional purposes. In season 1, we see that they are sometimes part of the investigative force when it comes to getting information around developing situations. With the Shibuya arc and the arc that follows, we see that they are also integral means of liaison and communication between sorcerers and to other points of contact within the community, including windows.

So. Windows are people who can see curses but aren't sorcerers which begs the question, what are managers? As we learn and can infer with Ijichi, who was a former sorcerer in training, managers are people who can see curses and may even be able to manipulate cursed energy. They aren't full blown sorcerers but they aren't completely helpless either. So why go after them?

As we see in the story centered around Ijichi's "boring day" at the office. Managers are sorcerers' only connection to the "human" world. They are what keeps them tethered to their mission in protecting others while similarly upholding the etiquette and traditions around how the rest of the world works. They maintain a very delicate balance of things alongside the supernatural. Without them, you'd have the unchecked ego of teenage Gojo basically just doing as he pleases without curtains or respect to the possible implications of a civilian seeing him work out in the open. To suit Geto's needs during JJK 0, why should sorcerers operate under some guise of hiding their strength for the sake of those who are weak? As to what happens during the Shibuya arc.. imagine the fear, the anxiety. Imagine the chaos! Imagine the curses it would yield.

Hypothesis: Yuji is Still the Main Character, We Just Haven't Seen the Curse that He'd Manifest When Broken Saying it louder for the people in the back

Certain corners of the fandom have largely cast Yuji aside. With the release of JJK 0 and appearance of Yuta, many wonder why Yuta isn't carrying the series. Afterall, his inherent overpowered-ness and ability to copy any technique for sure casts him as the next gen Gojo, right? In the literary sense, we've seen the rise and fall of his story. We haven't seen the last of him by any stretch of the imagination but he is, as we discovered, also jujutsu society royalty. A distant cousin of Gojo's, actually.

Of the main cast of first and second years, Yuji and Nobara are subsequently the only characters who do not have apparent ties to jujutsu society. Nobara, plucked from the countryside, is tested by Gojo upon her initial introduction to the series to make sure she's crazy enough to cut it. Yuji's origin is still a ways from truly coming to light but his inherent strength and the simple ability to house Sukuna and maintain his identity has, in many ways, been indicated to be an anomaly. Subsequently, as the viewer or reader, we know there's more to the story which has yet to come. I won't go into it here given my desire to not spoil the larger manga story but I think laced within the light novels is enough evidence to talk about Yuji and what his power and subsequent threat level is.

Yuji, for all intents and purposes, is an outsider. From what we can tell, he has experienced loss. Most apparently with his grandfather but we also assume he is a victim to the MC syndrome that leaves him orphaned and prime for a journey rife with struggle. He's fifteen with the pure heart of a child despite any previous hardships and just so happens to be armed with the mission to help people.

Yuji approaches the introduction to this new society with the wonderment of a kid finding out superheroes exist. But this naivete, this untempered light, actually has the capability of being something so fearsome when we learn how curses manifest through negative emotions.

In the anime, we see this as Sukuna scratches at Yuji's mental when they realize the possible origin of Tsumiki's curse may have begun killing it's victims when Yuji ate the finger. Mahito employs a similar means of manifesting ill will in Junpei that ultimately also becomes a burdensome guilt that Yuji bears. Countless times in the Shibuya arc, Yuji is forced to witness catastrophic losses of his mentors and friends while he can only stand idly by. The survivor's guilt is compounded by the shame of his own inability to help which only gets worse.

Since Yuji is relatively noble and sincere in nature, he considers these losses personal failures. He takes ownership of any sins against others that Sukuna commits when he is not in control over his body and, subsequently, his spirit takes a beating time and time again. He sought to do good in the world but his ledger becomes increasingly bloody through no means of his own and it weighs on our sunshine character.

It's easy to lend a hand to a child who has fallen, but it's a teacher's job to show a child how to stand up unassisted. It isn't always easy. - Gojo Satoru

The first light novel closes the gap between how Yuji went from training in a basement away from anyone who'd want him dead a second time to being under Nanami's care. While wrapping up Nanami's case, Gojo is uncharacteristically somber in requesting Nanami's assistance. He explains that Yuji requires Nanami's influence as someone who knows human suffering. The losses shared between them are unspoken and are not acknowledged within this exchange but, from what we know, hang as a burden between them. Still, both Nanami and Gojo have continued on as sorcerers somehow, from the grief of their youth into their late twenties. But Gojo gives voice to the concern that, because of Yuji's bravery and altruism, that the reality of what's expected of a sorcerer will one day break his heart if someone with emotional intelligence isn't able to help temper it. They seem to both understand the precariousness of youth and have both been shown to insist in protecting it where possible. This exchange and their mutual understanding is how we have Yuji under the care of Nanamin. It's also where we get the heart rending reminder that "Being a child is by no means a crime," and "You've escaped death many times. But that doesn't mean you've become an adult."

In the last story of the book, as Yuji is reunited with the other first years, he is contemplating a situation he encountered that still lacked resolution. He'd exorcised the exact same demon several times but to no avail. He hopes to enlist Gojo's help but Gojo encourages him to think about the problem more because not everything can be solved by fighting and exorcising when the source of curses is from human emotion. As Yuji races off to resolve the issue that's been weighing on him, Gojo reflects on his responsibility to preparing Yuji for the ups and downs that are sure to befall him.

Itadori's sincerity was a more significant attribute than his being Sukuna's vessel. As a result, trauma had the potential to become a curse more fearsome than anything else, a nasty curse preventable only by confronting one's own heart. Instead of cradling that heart, Gojo could teach it to be prepared. That's what it meant to raise students.

While the story resolves without consequence, we see that Yuji's reflection on the situation is as endearing as one would imagine though still a bit warped. He is galvanized to be stronger, dedicated to providing the help the people need whatever it may be, and to not give those he cares about reason to worry which seems in line with what Gojo was hoping for. But being offset by his consideration for how others feel like Nobara and Fushiguro when he died, it almost feels like he's creating an even larger burden of expectations for himself. This gives rise to Gojo's very real concerns about how far someone can fall into despair, especially someone who is such a beacon of positivity.

[yallthemwitches]

Catch the Wind, Chapter 7: Night Moves

This chapter gives another perspective of a scene I wrote in my oneshot "Slipping Away"--but this time in Lily and James' POV. Feel free to check out that fic here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57349759

Some cute fluff and then finally some more spicy stuff by the end. Its been nice to write the yearning bit of their relationship, but I'm looking forward to the onslaught of romance to come :)

It was the last weekend before summer holidays which meant that The Three Broomsticks’ dance night was going to be well attended. Nearly every student who was capable of going was mulling around the makeshift dance floor that was created in the middle of the hall. Conjured music pumped through the room and bodies buzzed with frenetic energy. 

Lily stood with her mates in a tight circle on the dancefloor. Despite trying to take an interest in the summer plans of the other girls, her eyes kept darting to the front door every time it opened. Maybe it was just happenstance, but she had not seen James on a personal level since their run in with Snape. During classes, he seemed focused on his work and he had canceled their last transfiguration lesson–effectively meaning they didn’t fit in any snogging either. 

The door tinkled open and a raucous banter of boys entered the room. James and Sirius strode arm in arm laughing about something while Lupin and Peter trailed behind. Once inside, Sirius went up to the bar to flirt with Rosmerta while the rest grabbed a seat at a cast aside table on the other end of the dance floor.

 Lily took the drink that Mary levitated towards her and tried to act casual. All afternoon she had looked forward to the moment she would catch James, but now that it was here all she felt was a rock in her stomach and her brain going fuzzy. 

Hadn’t he just asked to stay in contact over summer? So then what is he doing? Just thinking about it made her feel frustrated. Trying to dispel her anxious energy, she bopped her hip to the side in time with the music and took another sip of Butterbeer. As casually as possible she swiveled her hips to get a glimpse of the marauder’s table. She thought she had been discreet, but the second her eyeline caught James, he stopped leaning back in his chair and matched her gaze. A smile pulled at his face. The git is messing with me. 

The song changed. It wasn’t often that the Three Broomsticks played muggle music but tonight they seemed to be making lots of exceptions. Lily jumped with excitement and made a show of snapping and singing along at her friends. 

“Merlin, Lily. You with muggle music. At least one of us finds enjoyment in something when we go back home,” Marlene snorted. 

“Just because your muggle home life sucks doesn’t mean all of it’s a drag,” Lily chided and started dancing up on Marlene, bobbing her shoulders at her playfully. “Besides, I like this song.” Marlene just rolled her eyes and gave Lily a light push. 

“Go on then. I’m sure as hell not dancing with you.” Lily stuck her tongue out at Marlene who reflected it back. After taking a long sip of her drink, she spun on her heel and headed towards the group of people who had already started dancing in the middle of the room. 

She had all the intention in the world to just dance on her own, but like a gravitational pull, she weaved herself past the dancing couples and landed squarely in front of James and his mates who all eyed her with varying degrees of surprise and amusement. James' eyes widened at her presence and his hand sprung up to his hair. 

“Care to show me your moves, Potter?” In an attempt to stave off her anxiety, she kept swaying to the beat, hoping it would come off as somewhat charming. A light pink appeared right under the bottom rim of his glasses and he shifted in his seat. On a second thought, she realized he might be taking her question in a myriad of ways.

“Uhm, I dunno…I–” She had never seen him this flustered before. Of all the bloody years that he practically begged for her to give him attention and now he’s being a timid little knob. Did he get hit with a confundus charm and forget we’ve been snogging the past few weeks? 

Despite being perturbed by his lackluster response, she continued, “ Well then, does anyone else want a go, then?” She smiled at the other three boys who side-eyed James’ warily. Sirius barked a laugh, clearly picking up on her game. 

“Sure Evans, I’ll bite.” Sirius stood up and took his hand in hers. He followed her out onto the dancefloor and very quickly matched her tempo. Without looking back at where they had left James at the table, she snaked her hands around his neck in a loose hold and felt his arms lightly hold her around the waist. For someone who had a wide reputation as an impeccable lover, he was holding an awful lot of space between them. 

“Y’know if I had known you were one for messing with James this much, we would have become friends sooner.” Sirius smirked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lily retorted in a sing-song voice before closing her eyes and singing along with the music. She made it through the first two stanzas before realizing there was a deeper male voice matching hers. She blinked to see Sirius had begun to sing along with her. 

“Like Zeppelin, Black?”

“ Not my fault muggles make better music than us.” Lily leaned her head back and laughed. On the other side of the dance hall, Marlene and Mary caught Lily’s eye and Mary made the dramatic point to mouth What are you doing?

Lily ignored them. Sirius leaned down close to her ear and she could hear the tinkle of his earring from his movement. 

“Don’t look now, but poor James might be having a brain aneurysm.”

Lily craned her neck around to see James exactly where they had left him. He had some color come back to his face, but his hands were balled into fists on the table in front of him and she could see his breathing from all the way across the room. 

“Are you trying to teach him a lesson or something?” Sirius continued. “Because if so, this has been very effective.”Lily removed a hand from around Sirius’ neck and gave a little wave towards James and Sirius followed suit. 

Back at the table James was not ok.

 He thought he had been doing the right thing. He knew what had happened with Snape had been difficult for her. He wanted to give her space to breathe—to work out whatever she needed on her own. Isn’t that what she had always wanted from him? A little patience and thoughtfulness? So why had she come over to ask him to dance—especially when she was not keen on the idea of making their relationship more than secret at this point. And why in the bloody fuck had she waltzed off with Sirius when he had said no to her?

Maybe it was the amount of butterbeer, but James was getting a headache. He watched as Sirius leaned down to her ear. His eyes squinted at him over Lily’s shoulder with sinister intent. Lily let out a laugh at whatever he said and turned around and gave a small wave. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to wait until he is in dog form, put him in a bag, and drown him in the lake.

“Uh–Prongs?” Despite Peter poking James’ cheek for the better half of a minute, he was now just noticing. “Not to be that guy but hasn’t your dream this entire time to be with Evans? Why’d you say no mate…” 

Remus nodded in agreement and popped a cigarette into his mouth. “Sometimes I think she might be right to say you are thick.” 

James' hands curled tighter as Lily and Sirius twirled around the dancefloor effortlessly while belting out the lyrics. 

“Just fucking go over there, mate. It’s that simple.” Lupin huffed out. “You’re bumming us out.” James took a breath and nodded. He rose stiffly from the table and as carefully as possible swerved his way beside the dancing couple. Neither of them moved to acknowledge him and kept singing in unison. 

“Ok, I get it. I’m a stupid git. Will you still let me dance with you?” Lily didn’t didn’t stop singing but her lips formed into a smile. 

“Nice of you to have that little revelation, but no way mate, this is my hot date,” Sirius wagged a finger in James’ face who swatted it away. 

“Piss off traitor,” James’ hissed and Sirius threw his head back and laughed. 

“Alright, alright,” Sirius conceded. “Evans, it has been the utmost pleasure, but I’m afraid James here might murder me if I don’t depart.” Sirius made a dramatic bow and offered Lily’s hand to James. He walked backwards a few steps with a smirk before turning around to where Remus and Peter sat. 

Red formed on James’ cheeks as he stared at the retreating Sirius with slitted eyes before taking his place next to Lily. Without hesitation she raised her hands around his neck. He felt one of her fingers subtly curl its way into the bottom tufts of hair. 

“You are ignoring me,” She stated, looking up at him with an expectant glance. 

“I’m giving you space. Thought you’d want that after—” but he was cut off by a snort. 

“Space? That's rich coming from the bloke that has pestered me for years,” she said, raising her eyebrows. 

“I’m trying to be good–or at least not muck things up like I always do with you. You know, you don’t make it easy, Evans.” He lowered his eyes to hers and she blushed. 

He snaked his arms tight around her low waist and she let out a small noise. One hand was pressing dangerously close to her bum while the other’s fingers lazily stroked the exposed skin from her midriff. 

“Well if you were half as good of a dancer as your mate—” James cut her off with a whistle. 

“Low blow, Evans. Low blow.” They swayed in silence for a moment. Her fingers continued to play idly with the hair at the nape of his neck and he pulled her in closer to the point where she could feel his erratic heartbeat against hers. 

She angled her head up, needing to get on her toes to reach his ear with her lips. She hovered them dangerously close to his earlobe and whispered in a volume barely audible over the music.

“I hate to say it, but I’m going to miss you.” She pulled back her face to look at his reaction. His eyebrows shot to the top of his head and his eyes were wide. She wrinkled her nose and giggled. 

“Can I talk to you?” Any levity in Lily’s manner dissipated at Snape’s voice. They had been too lost in each other to notice him stumble his way towards them. His hands were clenched at his sides and he had spoken through gritted teeth. 

Lily shot a warning glance at James, whose body had tightened around hers. By some miracle, he followed her lead and continued to dance. 

“No,” she didn’t even look to turn to Snape, rather keeping her eyes locked on James in an unspoken agreement. Don’t do anything thick. Not here. 

“Please,” he tried again. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. 

Lily turned her head quickly and paused her swaying while still holding on to James. 

“Don’t you see I’m trying to enjoy my evening?” With a huff, she turned back to James and started to direct their swaying farther into the crowd, leaving Snape behind. 

Snape wasn’t deterred. He took another step towards them and then placed a hand squarely on her shoulder. 

“Lily–” She whipped herself around, finally letting go of James and stared hard at Snape. 

James took a step forward, keeping one hand around her waist and reaching behind his back to his wand with the other. 

“She said no, Snape,” James growled out. So far, Lily had clearly wanted them to be the better party, but enough was enough. After their last run in, he was shocked she was even trying to be civil. 

Snape squinted his eyes at him and started to reach into his robes, but his hand froze before forming a fist and returning back by his side. The whole room stopped moving and waited to see who was going to move first. 

“Fine. Fine Mudblood.” Snape spat and trudged to the door, pushing people out of his way. James turned to follow but Lily grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. 

“Are you mental?” She hissed at him. “We are not replaying last time. Just let him fucking go, he’s not worth it.” 

James stared back at her with gritted teeth. He seemed to be searching for something in her face. 

“Why are you still protecting him?” He finally forced out, and the question hung between them. She had never thought of it that way before.

Marlene burst through the crowd of people before standing stock still in front of them. 

“Oh, what in the christ was that about?” She put a hand on Lily’s cheek and looked on either side of her face to see if she was hurt. 

“Nothing Marlene, I’m fine,” Lily retorted. Marlene stared closely into Lily’s face for a beat before turning to James. 

“Oi, and what do you have to say for yourself Potter, what’d you do to Snape to get his panties in a knot?” James just smiled in response. 

“Just following Ms. Evans’ orders, McKinnon.” Marlene scoffed and grabbed Lily’s hand. 

“C’mon Lils’. This place is a drag all of the sudden.” As Lily trailed after her friend, Lily shot a meaningful glance at James. Before she could get pulled out of sight he saw a word form on her lips.

Tonight. 

—------------------------------------

James stood outside of the Three Broomsticks holding the Marauder’s map in his hand. His eyes swirled around the parchment before landing on Lily’s name which stayed sedentary within the Gryffindor common room. He made a quick note that Marlene’s name was elsewhere—Lily was more or less unoccupied. 

He snuck beside the back wall of Honeydukes and ducked into an open basement window.  Winding his way through the passage and out from behind a statue in the Hogwarts’ corridor, he constantly rechecked the map to see if Lily had changed positions. By the time he reached the common room, other students had wandered back from the party, and were mulling around the couch where Lily sat. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” At his voice Lily jumped. She had been reading some muggle book that looked very loved.

“Mind if I—” he gestured to where she had her legs stretched out on the couch, and she sat up to make room for him. 

He sat with his elbow resting on the back of the couch while his head cradled in his hand. Lily shifted her legs so they were touching him. 

“So….we danced tonight–in public.” He eyed her warily. 

“Yeah with a little convincing,” She raised her eyebrows at him playfully. 

“Like I said, I was just trying to give you space and anyways you seem to love keeping secrets.” His hand lowered to her thigh and started tracing patterns into her skin. Lily side-eyed the other students in the common room, but no one seemed to be giving them any interest. 

She looked down at his hand. A small blush filled her cheeks and she reached her arm to lay her hand just below his knee. James sucked in a breath. It felt like an invitation.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice lowered. She could hear each word heavy on his lips. It had been days since they snogged much less kissed and their last time had not ended in the most spectacular of ways. She glanced back at his hand now on her thigh and remembered how last time it had traveled up beyond her hemline.

She instinctively leaned forward. He had done the same and they were so close, she could feel his breath on her face. She gave his leg a little squeeze of caution.

“I’d like to do that. But somewhere more private.” James pulled back and regarded her. She could tell he was crestfallen. 

“If only you and your mates somehow knew secret passages within the school and somehow had a way of not getting caught.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Quite honestly, if you could explain that, I’d be so impressed I’d snog you right here on this couch in front of everyone.” She smirked at him while he sized her up. He contemplated for a moment, then responded. 

“Ah, Don’t hate me because I’m really lucky and observant.” She frowned. He didn’t take the bait. 

“But, I do know a nice little spot near the portrait hole if you are so inclined—unless you want to reconsider your offer and we can just get to it right here.”

Lily snorted and James gave her thigh a little squeeze. 

“Give me 5 minutes. I’ll meet you around the corner. Don’t look suspicious, Evans. You always do when you are up to no good.”

He slid his hand down her thigh then feigned a giant yawn. Lily followed him with her eyes as he got up from the sofa, ran a hand through his hair, and ducked his way out of the portrait hole. 

She collapsed back on the seat. One, Two, Three….

Once 5 minutes trickled by, she got up and walked as carefully as possible to the exit; trying not to make contact with anyone as she went. It was around midnight at this point— there was no reason for her to be leaving, but everyone in the common room seemed not to give her any thought. Out of the portrait hole, she walked quietly through the darkness until she felt a body sidle up behind her. 

“I think you owe me a kiss.” He swung her body around towards the other wall where a giant tapestry of a unicorn hung. Stroking his finger up the horn of the unicorn, the tapestry broke open as if cut and presented a small alcove behind it.

 Lily didn’t even have time to ask how he knew about the alcove. Their lips crashed together. His hands were all over her body and his mouth moved starving over hers, meeting her tongue with his and moaning into her.

He pushed her until her back was against the alcove wall and behind him she could see the tapestry sew itself back up. She weaved her hands through his hair and made little fists, tugging at the strands. He parted from her lips and moved his mouth to her exposed collar bone, mumbling a thick merlin before attaching his mouth to her skin. She took a sharp intake of breath and clawed at the back of his shirt. 

He had his chest pressed against hers, and she parted her legs slightly to let his knee stand between her. His leg pushed into her lower half and made her body start to buzz. She felt a yearning bubble from the bottom up that was impossible to describe. She pushed herself even closer to him and felt his heartbeat working hard underneath his shirt. 

He detached his lips from her collar, leaving a red mark on her skin and kissed his way up her neck and back to her lips. 

“I’m going to miss you too. So sodding much.” He breathed into her mouth. “Just having a couple days without your touch was hell.”

Lily blinked her eyes open and nipped at his bottom lip. “And whose fault was that.” He didn’t respond, rather grabbing her jaw with one hand and pressing her lips back to his. His other hand roamed under the backside of her shirt, touching her bare skin. It hesitated at her side before moving onto her stomach and then up towards her breast. 

Lily made another sharp intake of breath into his mouth and his hand jumped off her skin and out of her top. He backed up slightly, not quite pushing her into the wall anymore, and rested his hands on either side of her neck. 

“I’m sorry, I should—”

Despite his words, his eyes were closed and his breathing heady. His lips had not left a hovering distance from her own. 

“No,” she breathed out. “I didn’t mean for you to stop.” She took his hand and placed it back under her shirt. Guiding his touch, she let it slide over her breast. He made a guttural sound as he palmed her. She wasn’t wearing a bra. 

“You have no idea what you do to me,” She whispered and ran her hands back through his hair. With renewed vigor, he pressed her body back against the stone wall and his fingers curled softly around her skin. He slid his thumb over the blunt tip of her breast and she moaned into his mouth. 

She couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this much heat inside her body. It felt 

insatiable. Like it was going to eat her alive if something didn’t happen and soon. 

She let go of his hair and moved her hands down to his waistline. Finding his belt, she started to tease it apart, but his hand caught hers and he placed her hand on his chest. 

Breaking their lips apart. He pulled back and his eyes seemed waterlogged with desire. 

“Not tonight. Not like this.” He choked out. She waited for the punchline, but it never came. 

“I can’t muck this up like I do with everything else about you.” He pulled her into a tight hug and placed a kiss on her temple. Despite both of their bodies vibrating with lust, the act of the embrace cooled their minds and brought them back to earth. 

He stroked her hair while she laid against him for a moment. His heart was still beating fast, and he buried his face into the top of her head. 

“I meant it, I’m going to miss you,” she said quietly into his shirt. She could feel the hum of his laugh in his chest. 

“I know.” They stood there holding each other. Tomorrow they would be leaving Hogwarts. 

Lily pulled her head up and he kissed the top of her head, then her temple before resting their foreheads together. 

“Will you write to me? Like you said.” She whispered. 

“I’d do anything for you.” And he leaned in for one last lazy kiss. 

If you want to read this fic in from the beginning, check out the rest of my tumblr or find it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57047455/chapters/145083085

[the-five-bright-stars]

FBS Draft Scene: Still Undone

Word Count: 1600

Author's Notes: This has been a landmark scene in my head for a long time, but I realized recently I had never really told anyone about it! This takes place in the middle of the story. Content Warning spoils the heaviest part of this segment, so try to skip over it if you want to be surprised! Sorry I can't blank it out!

Summary: While searching the abandoned winter grounds of the carnival Taps once worked for, he and Riker discover the body of Hinge, Taps' childhood sweetheart. Title comes from Orville Peck's 'Hope to Die,' Taps and Hinge's theme.

Content Warnings: Dead robot, body desecration, attempted revival and subsequent putting down

Previously: Taps and Riker were being dragged back to New Amida by Kilroy and Lucy, but at a split second opportunity, stole their car and made off. While laying low, Taps is revealed to have an emotion blocker in his head, which Riker hastily removes, causing Taps to start experiencing extreme mood swings and reactions. Afterward, they decide to search for clues as to the whereabouts of Lindy, Taps' missing sister, and the first place to search is where Taps saw her last-- the carnival winter grounds where they worked together, now abandoned.

-

　Taps shuffled through the dusty papers in the desk drawers, keeping the lights of his eyes dialed up. Riker had their one flashlight tucked between his cheek and his shoulder and was picking the locks on the filing cabinet on the other side of the room, muttering under his breath. They’d checked a few other rooms in the deserted building before finding this office, all of them trashed in the time since the winter grounds were abandoned. The rooms had been shifted around after Taps left the carnival, except for the big storage room where they’d found, miraculously, a still sealed gallon of diesel.

　　Taps was trying not to let that diesel’s presence distract him. There were lots of reasons why a carnival might have that on hand, not just the one that he feared. Right now he had to focus on finding clues of where Lindy had gone.

　　“Got it,” Riker said, pulling open the top cabinet drawers. He wrinkled his nose at the contents; they probably smelled musty. “What year did you leave, again?”

　　“1959,” Taps said. “November.”

　　“Right, so--” Riker paused. “You were built in ‘47? Christ, you were still a kid.”

　　Taps silently straightened up and walked around the desk. “Demétrio had to move our contracts fast,” he said. “Medical bills. Here, I found a key, if there’s nothing in that one.”

　　In the second-to-bottom drawer, they found something. The manila folder nearly crumbled as Riker shifted it up into the light. It was unlabeled, but as Riker flipped through the tops of the papers within, he perked up. “Contract receipts. Jackpot.”

　　Taps leaned closer, staring at the papers as Riker jumped to the back of the folder. Focus, he thought. Don’t think about--

　　“Bettencourt!” Riker exclaimed. He grinned at Taps, pointing to a yellow page. “Bettencourt, L. Sale of contract: 1961. I can’t believe we fucking found it!”

　　Taps was frozen; his engine slowed. Riker’s smile began to dim.

　　“Hey,” Riker said softly. “You OK?”

　　“Yes,” Taps said, voice stiff. His illuminators had turned to pinpricks. “Yes. I just--”

　　Riker reached out and rested a hand on Taps’ shoulder. “Relax. This is big, and you’re just getting your feelings together. You need a minute before we get out of here?”

　　Taps vented a small burst of air, his head dropping forward, and he nodded.

　　Riker gingerly folded the receipt along its age-old crinkles before putting it in the inner pocket of his jacket. He stood with a grunt, rubbed his knees, and then held his hands up to his mouth, puffing a faint, misty cloud of hot air over them.

　　After a few minutes, the pair stepped out into the hallway, the shattered window at the closer end spilling moonlight across the floor. They walked carefully toward the exit, but stopped at the door, hearing whooping voices in the distance.

　　“Those damn teenagers are still here?” Riker growled. “Shit. They better not fuck with the car.”

　　Taps opened the door a crack and peaked through. “I can see their flashlights. They’re between us and the car, but I don’t think they’re moving toward it.” Taps paused, thinking. “There’s should be another way around, through the warehouse. I think the door was this way…”

　　They slipped as quietly as they could through the office building to the side door, then darted to the warehouse. Like the office, any sort of padlock had long been broken off, and the door opened with a soft creak. Riker flinched at the sound, then ducked inside, turning to wave Taps through. Taps only hesitated for a split second.

　　The main chamber of the warehouse was a disaster. Riker tried to keep the flashlight pointed at the ground as they walked, but the light would twitch nervously toward any open doors they passed. Riker’s foot collided with something and he yelped as it tumbled forward; Taps froze again, staring at the black diesel canister lying on its side, lit up in the circle of yellow. Riker breathed through his teeth.

　　“Christ, thought that was a rat for a second,” he said.

　　Taps stepped forward and picked it up, sloshing the liquid inside. Riker frowned at him-- or more specifically, at his eyes. Taps could feel his lights narrowing again.

　　“Taps?” Riker asked, voice a quiet hiss. “What’s the matter?”

　　“There was another robot,” Taps said. “His name was Hinge, and he ran on diesel.”

　　Riker stared at Taps for a moment, and Taps stared past him. There was a large doorway with no door just ahead of them, with smears on the ground, grimy shoe prints leading in and out. Before Riker could form a response, Taps had moved into the doorway.

　　There was something in there, against the far wall.

　　Taps’ footsteps were jerky as he took one, two steps in. Even with his illuminators turned all the way up, the shape was hard to make out. But it was big and bulky, crumpled forward over itself.

　　The flashlight shone past Taps shoulder, and Riker swore.

　　Hinge’s body sat with its back against the wall, head bowed forward over its bent legs. The left arm was missing below the elbow, and the chassis and the wall surrounding it were covered in spray paint. The graffiti on the wall made a terrible halo around the slumped form.

　　Taps barely registered his legs moving. He walked forward as if compelled, the carnage that had wracked Hinge’s body more apparent with every step. At some point he had dropped the diesel canister; it wasn’t in his hand when he knelt, almost falling, and reached out to touch Hinge’s knee.

　　“You stayed,” Taps whispered to the corpse. “Why did you stay?”

　　Taps couldn’t stop staring at Hinge’s face-- the hanging jaw, the dark holes of his glass-broken eyes. Some irreverent vandals had messily applied zigzags and meaningless blobs and a singular holographic sticker across his wide torso. Hinge would have hated it. Would hate it. Hated it.

　　Taps stood and turned sharply, nearly knocking into Riker. He ignored the words that stumbled out of Riker’s mouth and snatched the diesel canister off the ground, unscrewing the cap as he hurried to Hinge’s side. His fuel intake was just behind his left shoulder.

　　Taps did not stop pouring when Riker grabbed his arm and pointed the flashlight in his face, but he did start to hear him again.

　　“--can’t do this, buddy, there’s nothing left--”

　　“He has two ignition switches,” Taps said. “One on each side. I can’t reach both at once.” He turned his head and locked eyes with Riker. “I need you to hit the other switch.”

　　Riker’s eyes were round, the whites of them catching the light that bounced back into his face.

　　“What? No. I won’t,” Riker stammered. “Taps--”

　　“Do it,” Taps snapped. And then, venomously: “You owe me.”

　　Riker’s jaw snapped shut, and slowly his brows furrowed, the crease between his eyebrows deepening darkly. For a long moment he said nothing. Taps removed the nozzle from Hinge’s intake, and was just feeling the stirring of hesitation when Riker whipped around. Taps thought he might be storming out of the room, but he turned at Hinge’s feet and came back to his other side.

　　“You’re going to fucking regret this,” Riker snapped, casting the light over Hinge, looking for the switch.

　　Taps reached out and pried Hinge slightly more forward from the wall, enough to slip their hands beneath his shoulder blades. “Just press, and hold for three,” Taps said. “One… two… three--”

　　There was a gurgle and a bang from within Hinge’s chest, and he jerked violently. Black smoke spat from his mouth, and one eye flickered. Riker pulled back, and Taps’ hands snapped out, ready to steady him.

　　“Hinge? Hinge!” Taps cried. “It’s alright, it’s--”

　　Hinge continued to spasm, and Riker jumped back as his only arm swung aimlessly. Sounds gargled out of his voice box, a waterfall of half-words and metallic screeches, and with a full-body jolt he fell onto his left side, nearly taking Taps down with him. Hinge-- his body-- contorted on the ground, thrashing and scraping itself on the concrete, howling.

　　Taps stared and realized what he had done.

　　“Hold his head.”

　　Riker was holding a long metal rod, some piece of detritus from the floor.

　　Taps could have screamed, but with threadbare restraint, he did not. He only knelt and did his best to hold onto Hinge’s head, a hand on both sides. Hinge was--had been-- was so, so strong, and it was difficult to steady the head.

　　Riker missed the first blow, the end of the rod bouncing off the center of Hinge’s faceplate. The second spike hit true, going deep into the eye socket, back into the elongated skull. Riker wrenched the rod to one side, then the other, and with a snap something gave away, and Hinge’s body went still.

　　Taps kept holding the head as Riker-- Riker was crying, Taps dimly realized-- as he pulled the rod free and tossed it aside. The flashlight had been left on the ground, pointing at Hinge, and Riker retrieved it, knuckles bone white around the grip. He was breathing heavily, teeth grit, and his wet eyes shot accusing darts at Taps.

　　‘“I owe you?”’ Riker hissed bitterly. “I should have told you to get in line.”

　　And then he did leave, stalking out into the hallway. Taps heard him begin to retch, and he looked down again. He ran a hand over Hinge’s forehead.

　　“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, love. You deserved the whole world. Better than this. Better than me.”

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 5 ~ Celebration

It’s your anniversary 4 years and you decided to celebrate it by going to the aquarium you have always wanted to go to. Going off on Jon Hamm’s age which is 52. Reader is 34.

“Come on Y/N we are going to be late.” You hear Beau yell from downstairs. “Keeps you pants on old man I am almost done.” You teasingly yelled back. “You weren’t saying that last night, now were you Hun.” He teased back and all you could do is smirk at the memories of last night, you really could not get enough of each other as he was promoted to Admiral yesterday. “Okay you got me there.” You started walking down the stairs with a smile. “You know I just love teasing you. I love being with you. Even if you are old.” You cackled at the look on his face. “I love being with you too baby girl.” The handsome man replied with a smirk.

“You know if we weren’t so late already I would have taken you over my knee right here on this couch.” He grinned and you gasped. “Damn I was looking so forward to that.” You giggled and he just shake his head. “Maybe if we get back you can have me anyway you like.” He pulled you into a breath taking kiss and smirked when you quietly moaned into his mouth before pulling away.

“Okay now that all the kinky shit is out of the way. Let’s go I really wanna see the penguin show, Bradley was there the other day with Natasha and little Nick and they loved the show. They said we can even pet the dolphins after their show so we are definitely doing that.” You giggled racing towards the front door causing Cyclone to laugh at your eagerness and at the look on your face is just doing wonders for what he has planned. “Even Hangman enjoyed it.” You continued grabbing Beau’s keys running towards the car jumping in while he loaded the picnic basket into the back of his boot.

“Is that so.” He questions with a loving look on his face. “Yeah I believe Jake said he got to pet the dolphins and they got him all wet.” He listened to you talk starting the car and reversing out of the garage. “Now wouldn’t that be super fun oh I love you for having this idea for our anniversary.” You smiled at the man you love. “Well I had a little bit of help from you father.” He retorted. “He knows you are a fan of the aquarium and with the last couple of months that has been stressful and rough I decided we need to have a bit of a break.” You grinned as he kissed you quickly at the red light.

“Oh wow. Look at all the colourful fish.” You looked amazed at the scene before you and Beau chuckled. “Hey look there is Dory, Marlin and Nemo.” You squealed like an excited kid on their first field trip pointing, at the smaller tank. “Ahh they are so cute.” You giggled and Beau pulled you into a side hug. “They are cute Y/N, but not as cute as you.” He flirted and you blushed. “Well mister Simpson keep talking like that and I might combust right this instant.” You smiled shyly up at him and he grinned.

“Let’s go a bit forward I think the tunnel is in front of us.” He pointed to the front and he pulled you along with him. Stopping as you reach the mouth of the tunnel and all you can do was gasp at the view in front of you. Looking around you are met with coral and stingrays on the one side and different types of fish on the other. You turned to look at Beau to say you love him again but you cut yourself off as he drops to one knee.  

“Y/N/N I’m so grateful for every second we have spent together and will spend together in the future. I’m grateful that we met. I’m grateful that somehow in this crazy universe with infinite possibilities, destiny paved the way so we could see each other at the right time, at the right place, in the right moment. Even if that that place was the Hard Deck with your dad kicking my ass at pool.” He smiled down as you chuckled at the memory with tears starting to form. “So many things could have happened to keep us from existing together. Yet we met and started something so beautifully wonderful. I’m grateful for us and I never want to let you go.”

“I know it sounds cliche but I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Even when your dad threaten to shoot down my plane when he found out about our first date.” Again you could only giggle. “Not the love that people talk about. But an unexplained attraction, a feeling of home, an urge that I need to talk to you at the end of each day and to make you mine forever. All I know is what we’ve shared since the moment we met is special and meant to be preserved. Your presence alone has made my life so beautiful. If there’s happiness and laughter in my life, I owe it all to you.” He looked up at you with tears forming in his eyes.

“I only want two things in this world right now. I want you and I want us. Will you be mine? Please do me the honour and let me call you my wife.” He concluded and you started nodding as he pulled the ring out of the box. “Yes, yes of course I will marry you. I love you so, so much I also can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” You cried pulling him up and quickly pulled him into a hug hearing cheers around you. Pulling away from Cyclone you are met with you dad and Penny and the rest of the dagger squad and their families.

You smiled at the people around you as they clapped hands as Beau pulled you in for a quick kiss. “Congratulations man.” Warlock pulled Beau into a quick hug patting him on the back before turning to you and congratulating you as well. “Congrats baby, you are going to be the most beautiful bride.” Your father smiled turning towards Cyclone. “Just because you are an Admiral now doesn’t mean I won’t still shoot you down if you hurt my little girl.” Pete threatened and you just groaned. “Seriously dad.” “Seriously Pete.” Penny looked at her husband and just shake her head before pulling you and Cyclone into a hug.

“Congratulations you guys, I have no doubt that this will be a wonderful marriage filled with so much love.” Penny said with a smile. “Thanks Pen, I love you.” “Love you too sweetie.” She pulled Mav away scolding the man and he just apologised with a small smile. As the rest of the squad congratulated you guys and they gushed about your beautiful ring.

For the rest of the day you spend it having fun with your fiancé and the rest of your friends and family. Thankfully you made it just in time for the penguin show along with the dolphin show. Now that was a fun experience. You have never felt so loved before than that day. You would not exchange it for anything in the world. After the trip Penny and your dad invited you guys and the group of friends and family for a barbeque where you guys had just as much fun.

Day 4 | Masterlist | Day 6

Used this link for the proposal scene lines/speech

[pink-devolve]

Yo I haven’t really seen anyone talking about this, but there are certain parts of Hazbin Hotel that can be extremely triggering for survivors of RAMCOA and SA.

I just finished watching the show and I loved it. But episode four was extremely triggering for me.

I will be describing a couple scenes somewhat thoroughly, none of which are super important to the plot, but all of which may be triggering to read. I think it’s important to have a trauma informed description of these scenes out there.

This is NSFW, the episode is 18+ and I don’t recommend that people under 18 read this. However if you’re going to watch this episode anyways, you deserve to have trigger warnings as well.

(Spoilers for episode four and minor NSFW under the cut)

The episode starts off with a warning for depictions of sexual abuse. The warning lasts for about 10-20 seconds, and that was enough for me to read it fully. This warning is very brief and does not describe the extent of what is shown in the episode. After the warning, it jumps into a scene where Angel Dust is tied to a chair, and an interrogator comes out and starts to have s3x with him. This is shown to be a CNC ✨film✨ when it zooms out to show Angel Dust playing it for the residents of Hazbin Hotel. Even knowing it is just a ✨film✨, I found it a little odd that it was the first scene shown, especially without prior context.

The next scene I wanted to talk about is when Angel is about to start filming with his boss, Valentino. Again this is going to include spoilers, I’m going to try and keep them minimal but yk.

Charlie decides that she is going to go to Valentino’s studio and demand that Angel spends more time at the hotel. She trips and causes an accident. Valentino pulls Angel into his dressing room, and starts physically abusing him. He uses his smoke abilities to shackle Angel’s hands and neck, putting Angel on a leash. He then drags Angel forward and shows Angel the contract he signed at one point, letting Valentino own his soul. Afterwards he says a series of lines reminding Angel that he is unable to say no, one being “If I say you’re fvcking 20 guys before lunch, you say..”

As a tr4ffick1ng survivor myself, this scene kinda fucked me up. What is going on between Angel and Val is blatant tr4ffick1ng, and it doesn’t say anything about this in the warning at the beginning of the episode.

Soon after this, Angel has a musical number. The music video for this shows a lot of k1nk gear, “C”NC, Angel being clearly distressed and scared, etc. With the added context of Angel being unable to say no, all of this was again, pretty triggering for me. In one scene, Angel is blindfolded and has something out on to keep his mouth open, he is then thrown onto the floor, and pushed “onto” someone. This was the most upsetting scene for me.

The only notable scene after this, is when Angel goes to a bar and a guy spikes his drink. It’s pretty unrealistic and didn’t personally upset me, but I do think it’s important to mention.

Honestly??? Even with it being triggering, this was my favorite episode. I was able to use coping skills and watch it with a friend, and I took a break after the musical number to talk and eat food. This episode in general does a really great job at fleshing out Angel’s character, and gives him a lot of depth that we haven’t previously been that exposed to. After the scenes I described, it gets better and Angel is able to open up for the first time, which I think is nice.

With all of that being said, I do think this is a weird episode to have in a serious typically marketed as 16+. In the warning on this episode, it does say that it’s for people 18 and older. But idk how they expect a 16 year old to just not watch the one episode said to be 18+.

[randomfoggytiger]

"Something Approaching a Normal Life"

(Fictober, Day 10)

Prompts from @agent-troi ("Scully invites Mulder to Thanksgiving dinner because it’s close to the anniversary of Samantha’s disappearance and she doesn’t want him to be alone" and "Mulder and Scully try to plan and host a dinner party, inspired mainly by the comedy of errors that is the dinner party episode of frasier...") and one of my sisters ("October in Christmas", "Thanksgiving", and "Signs the movie".)

*****

Mulder had another thing coming if he thought he could squizzle out of a foolhardy trip to the Bermuda Triangle with nothing more than a healthy bruise and a sweet word or two.

Although-- truthfully-- the blame lay more with his loopy bedside confession than any earlier, clear-headed, ill-advised action. 

***** 

“Thanksgiving?” 

Scully shifted her stance, heels rocking as she folded her arms a little tighter. “Yes.” 

“With your family?” 

This time she focused on the bullpen carpet, lisping out a softer, “...Yes.” 

Mulder didn’t know what to say. Everything seemed too polite or too ungrateful. 

“I know we don’t usually….”

There were a lot of things they didn’t usually, but holidays were high on the list. And considering the batch of Thanksgivings they’d experienced, always apart-- last year jumping straight from a botched team building seminar into small town shenanigans, the year before that caught up with Krycek and Congress, the year before that strung tight between secrets and diseases carted around in explosive train cars, and their first ever one nearly spent in volcanic quarantine-- broaching him to celebrate this one was…

Unexpected. 

"Are you... sure, Scully?"

“Mulder….” Scully stepped a little closer, craning her head back further. Utterly baffled. “Are you… shy?” 

Sometimes he forgot that his five-foot-almost-nothin’ partner had his number from day one. “I think a better word would be hesitant. And,” he rushed on, “not without precedent.” 

She was smiling too smugly for him to continue pursuing whatever point he was trying to make. “Christmas in October didn’t count then, Mulder, and it doesn’t now.” 

“‘Well, that’s another opinion--’,” he mush-mouthed. 

“‘And I respect it’, yeah.” Scully leaned even more forward, eyebrow pushing its customary way up. “Are you coming to Mom’s party, or do I have to tell her that you refused a personal invitation to sit at home in the dark?” 

Maggie Scully already knew about his lonely, isolated couch nights-- far more than Scully herself was aware.

Mulder couldn't bring himself to ruin her Thanksgiving, too. 

*****

Twelve hours later he and Scully were setting out dinnerware while studiously trying to ignore the escalating toddler meltdowns howling behind them. 

Her mother's house was packed, sardines of all shapes and sizes amiably chatting, swapping stories, or helpfully guiding the endless schools of Catholic children with admonishments and head pats (though he was amused to notice which cross wearers scowled at each other over unspoken but blatantly different opinions on birth control.) It had been subdued, pleasant even: Bill hadn’t taken the easy Mulder bait, Tara had darted here and there after Matthew, and various faces swam curiously in and out of their bubble to acquaint and chit chat. It had been easy to navigate strange waters-- Mulder kept an aquarium at home, after all. 

The problem started when one little tyke fell backwards against his sister or cousin (or an unholy mix of the two), a loud smack resounding mere seconds before both burst into tears. Then the other children got caught in the emotional tow; and the chaos spilled over until most of the room was either screaming or consoling. 

Scully practically fled the scene, Mulder following in her wake. And now they were setting an already set table together.  

When everyone's emotions began to settle and calm, Scully apologetically sighed. He waited, knowing there was more. 

“‘Christmas in October’.” She ruefully smiled. “How do we do it?”

“It’s part of the job-- the unexplained finds us.” Neither mentioned there wasn’t much unexplained in their current scutwork. “But…” he paused, letting her sweat a bit, “despite a few…”

“‘Unexplained’ things,” she filled in, flatly. 

“--happenings--,” he supplied. She snorted at his exhaustless ability to grab for the last word; and he rewarded it with a soft shoulder tap. “--I’ve been having a whale of a time.” 

*****

The post-turkey tryptophanic haze loosened up Mulder's subconscious mind enough to make a few gnarly connections. 

Tomorrow, November 27, 25 years. Black Friday. 

He looked across the room, locked onto Scully’s eyes and waited until she met his. They immediately confirmed his suspicions-- a good liar his partner was not-- and blinked with indecision, one lash closing faster than the other. But it never took Scully long to recover her footing: she let something like pride (and a sentiment that matched his black and blue cheek) take shape and sparkle at him before ducking away.

Mulder knew her own haunted holiday was coming up soon, ghosts hovering around every corner. He’d have to find a way to return the favor. 

“Who ya gonna call?" he sang under his breath. "Ghostbusters!”

Bill, walking by with three of the messiest children over five Mulder had ever seen, scowled at him. 

Muzzily, he decided relaxing via tryptophan might work if the tv ever went kaput.

*****

Maggie packed her favorite invite two large to-go containers (one filled almost exclusively with sweet potato pie) and waved off his half-hearted volunteers to clean up. “Fox, I wouldn’t dream of having a guest help out. And Dana’s your ride home, so you two better get going.” 

Taking one last look at the aftermath, Mulder understood now why his mother had kept celebratory dinners intimate or large gatherings outside during respectable daylight hours.

He drove on renewed energy from his doze while Scully picked at something she called a cheerio salad and he called a marketing gimmick. 

“You know, Scully…” he mused, waiting for her assenting hum, “I think tonight went well.”

“In what world,” she scowled, digestive funk breath spilling towards him in a huff. 

“Nothing bad happened. No major damage was done. I even have a fan club.”

“Mulder, Uncle Moses taking one look at you, running over, and having the nerve to be naively disappointed that ‘the jury’s still out’ on your ancestry does not even begin to cover tonight.” 

“And then he sat for thirty minutes listening to swamp monster stories."

"He thought you starred in a nonexistent movie called 'Signs', Mulder."

"What I mean, Scully, is that there were good people tonight. Good food, even. Better than my usual fair. It was-- it was nice. Thanks for inviting me over.” 

Mulder suspected she was smiling, widely, relieved and touched. “Any time, Mulder.” 

*****

Over the holiday weekend, he got a call from Area 51. 

Christmas plans would have to wait.

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

[lightandfellowship]

The flashbacks never lie to you

(Major KHDR spoilers)

So, one plot point of KHDR that has been really confusing for a lot of people (myself included) are the flashbacks to the upper classmen’s deaths in Enchanted Dominion. Each time the story revisits this flashback, it feels like the events shown aren’t consistent with previous flashbacks, which has led to the belief that certain flashbacks are simply inaccurate, with the implication being that the character recounting the events of the flashback is either mistaken or lying. However, upon closer inspection, this is not the case. The flashbacks never lie to you, they merely use strategic character placements, camera framing, and cut-off points in order to manipulate your comprehension of events.

I think the best way to illustrate this will be to simply go over the sequence of events chronologically.

#1. The first flashback in this sequence comes from Baldr when he reveals to his classmates that his sister died because of him. It goes like this: Hoder breaks in to Maleficent’s castle in order to defeat the evil fairy and is apparently a formidable enough foe for Maleficent to change into her dragon form. The two battle. Baldr rushes into the room that the battle is taking place in and sees that his sister is in danger. He runs towards her, yelling at Maleficent to leave his sister alone. Hoder looks back at Baldr with surprise, and upon realizing that Maleficent will likely shift her attention to Baldr and attack him, jumps in front of Baldr to shield him from the dragon’s flames, getting burned instead. Maleficent, apparently satisfied with her “kill” and deeming Baldr as a non-threat, backs away and goes off-screen, leaving just Baldr and Hoder in frame.

Baldr and Hoder have a short conversation while Hoder starts to fade away. They try to reach for each other, with Baldr yelling in despair and panic. Important: the flashback ends before Hoder fades away completely. She is still present and alive. The flashback wants you to think that this is the moment that she dies, but it is tricking you.

#2. The second flashback in this sequence happens when Darkness Baldr goes over the people he’s killed to Vor. Here is where we see what happens directly after the previous flashback. As Baldr and Hoder try to reach for each other and Hoder starts to fade away, a slash of darkness comes from the top right of the screen (where we can assume Dragon Maleficent is located) and attacks Hoder. 

She collapses. The dark slash manifests into a vaguely human shape in front of Baldr as Baldr grabs his head in fear, screaming. The flashback fades out. This is presumably the moment that Baldr got possessed by an entity that was being harbored by Maleficent. Again, when the flashback ends Hoder is still on screen and hasn’t faded away completely yet.

#3. The next flashback in the sequence comes from Heimdall and the others as they explain their deaths to Xehanort and Eraqus. Heimdall, Helgi, and Sigrun arrive at the scene where the Maleficent battle took place and see Hoder collapsed on the ground, in the process of fading away but still managing to hold on. Baldr is nowhere to be seen (but judging by the next flashback he was hiding somewhere on the left side of the room). Hoder tries to tell the others that Baldr needs help, but she can barely speak. I assume that she was able to hold on for so long because she couldn’t bear fading away without first trying to inform the others of what happened. Heimdall runs towards her as Hoder finally fades away completely. 

When Hoder dies, Heimdall, Helgi, and Sigrun rush forward to face Dragon Maleficent, who never left the room but merely shifted to the far right side. 

They vow to avenge Hoder, taking their keyblades out to fight Maleficent. The flashback ends. This is the actual moment that Hoder dies.

#4. And finally, the last flashback in this sequence of events again comes from the scene where Darkness Baldr goes over his kills to Vor. We see Heimdall, Helgi, and Sigrun exhausted, having fought against something off-screen to the right (again, even though she’s not in frame this is consistent with Maleficent’s location in the previous flashback). Maleficent is either just out of frame or was on the brink of defeat and ran away. Because they were distracted fighting Maleficent, they never see Baldr coming, and get attacked by a dark shockwave from behind them and to the left. Presumably Baldr waited until they were weak from their battle and then finished them off. They collapse and start to fade away. The camera pans to the left to show Darkness Baldr, surrounded by a dark aura. The flashback ends.

As you can see, there are no obvious inconsistencies to be found. Merely strategic character placements, camera framing, and cut-off points. IMO, there’s no reason to believe that any of these flashbacks are inaccurate or blatantly lying to the viewer. They are just intentionally misleading.

If any of my information is wrong, please let me know.

[all-mirth-no-matter]

So I pretty consistently watched DW through Nine, Ten, and Eleven. I started watching Twelve, and then fell off like near the end of his first season. Then I watched a few episodes with Twelve and Bill, but again fell off. Then watched almost all of Thirteen’s first season except the last special, then jumped back in and watched her last two episodes in prep for these 60th specials.

And really, I’ve always wanted to go back through and watch the whole thing. Even back through Eleven’s since aside from a few episodes I pretty much only ran through his seasons once. But obviously motivation hasn’t been there for me to sit down and do it, and I kind of found all the little bits that I’ve learned through the years about the Gallifrey stuff a little daunting to try and get my head ready to wrap around.

Here’s the thing though. Fourteen’s emotional breakdown in this second special, talking about the Flux (which I have no idea what that’s about) and timeless child and idk even what else make me so want to go back and watch so badly, just so I can fully understand and appreciate these scenes and emotions.

And honestly I can’t think of a time I was watching a new regen’s season or special and thought that.

One of the aspects of the regens (especially when it’s a new show runner) that I’ve always been a little sad over is that there’s very little reference to the Doctor(s) they were before, and especially the companions and events they went through. I get that they want to distinguish these new chapters as their own, and that the Doctor is not the same Doctor as they were before. But it just feels like such an amputation and makes me so sad.

Like don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon that David specifically is back to have this adventure with Donna. But it would just make me swoon to see another of the Doctor’s faces speak with the same love for their former companions. Another example of this is in Thirteen’s last episode with the classic companions, we just got a bite of Thirteen’s face with them before it switched to their personal Doctor’s faces (which again, I’m more excited as a fan watching knowing these are actors who are so excited to work together again and that we’re so lucky to still have these actors appearing, than as a follower of the story seeing the current Doctor with their old friends).

Anyway, that’s not my point here. My point is that the carry over of story and influence of previous Doctor(s) emotions/thoughts/feelings is something that I adore and it motivates me to go back and learn more and get the whole story. Because if RTD is giving us this for just the specials, I look forward to his approach for the next Doctor and season so much!

[lennoxlorian]

WRITING: GETTING THROUGH THE DRAFT

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve done NaNoWriMo and I am looking forward to jumping back into it full force this year. And as I start prepping with outlining, last minute research and setting up a special Scrivener file for the project, I remembered a post I wrote of the things I did that helped me smash NaNoWriMo the second time and wished I’d had these tips the first time around.

I found the post I wrote but over the years, (you can read that here) and since then I’ve gathered more practical tips to getting through NaNoWriMo. Remember, these tips are basically, to push through and get that first draft - which seems like the hardest part. How can you revise and edit something before you have something to even revise and edit, right? So, here are my original tips, plus some extras.

Set up a “Notes” file. This may seem like a weird tip. But I promise that it will be worth it at the end. The “Note” file can be a word document, pen and paper or even a Scrivener type program that has a notes section attached to the file. This will be a place where you will be jotting down every comment, note and idea you have as you write your novel. The purpose is to keep yourself from going back and falling into the downward spiral of self-editing/editing as you go. Because we know that it tends to lead to a novel in a perpetual unfinished state. My suggestion is to divide your notes into “Chapters”, “Parts”, “Page Number-Ranges” - depending on how you’re writing your novel and writing subsequent notes and ideas under that particular one. This helps you to find relevant information during the editing process.

Keep moving forward. No matter what. Don’t worry about the details. Don’t worry about changing something, even if the scene seems really long, dialogue heavy or you are describing the heck out of the setting. Don’t waste time thinking about how to change a small detail. Chances are you will probably not end up using it anyway. Just make a note of it in your “Notes” file and keep pushing forward.

An outline helps - even if you consider yourself a “Pantser”. Not everyone has an outline. For me, I LOVE outlines and mine tend to get crazy detailed. But what I appreciate about having an outline is that it helps me to keep my story in the direction it needs to go. Mind you, even with an outline, sometimes I do get into a flow that deviates from my original outline (It’s the tiny, rebellious pantser inside of me!). And that’s okay! I do suggest, even as a pantser, that you create a simple action breakdown. You want to have a clear idea where your characters are headed. Even a little.

JUST WRITE. Simple as that. Moreover - and this is important - write as if no one will ever read it. Don’t get caught up with how you think your novel should sound or even how you want it to sound. Just write it because it will create a voice of its own. YOUR voice. And that’s pretty freaking awesome. Putting myself into that mindset took away all of the inhibitions and self-doubt that I had and it created much of my best work. So write those cheesy action scenes or embarrassing love scenes. At the very least, it’s good character/plot development, it will get it out of your system and you’ll realize, later, that those scenes weren’t even needed. No harm, no foul.

Over write. Though many of the tips I'm giving can be applied to writing your first draft, this particular one is mainly for NaNoWriMo. As much as we would like to sit in front of our computers everyday or 30 days and just write, the truth is that we have lives and responsibilities that oftentimes takes us away from writing more than we’d wish. Sometimes for a whole day! (Boo!) But life happens. So over write. Write more than your daily word target. Especially, when you have extra time. That way, you won’t get behind and you’ll probably reach your goal sooner than you thought.

Stick with it. If you get #PlotStuck, don’t give up. What helped me, was to write chronologically. Meaning, I forced myself to get through whatever writer’s block I thought I had. Even if it’s introducing a new character, object or location to get the juices flowing, again. Some may say to skip over it and come back to it later but that’s how I got into a habit of not finishing novels. For me, waiting to get over that barrier - whether it was taking a quick break or a walk or reading - got me through several of those hurdles. What I’ve learned is if you’re serious about writing, you have to get through it because writing is not easy and it won’t be the last time you’re Plot Stuck. Trust me.

These are some things that helped me write and finish my first drafts. They may not work for everyone so take what you can and leave what you can’t. These aren’t the only tips I have but just the ones I have at the moment. I’ll be sharing more of those tips when they come to me. Or if you have a different question about my writing or my process or the blog or even my first draft, just ask me!