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thewayofthemandalorian · 2 years

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dreams dashed and divided - chapter six

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Rating: M

Chapter Rating: M

Word count: 4,874

Notes: A lot happens in this chapter. Lots of information and revelations are discovered. This has one of my favourite scenes in the entire fic, so I’ve been particularly excited to share this one. It’s another heavy chapter in parts like the previous one was but we’re almost in the home stretch. I hope you enjoy!

This fic is cross-posted to AO3 under the same name and my taglist can be found linked in my bio as well as my masterlist which is linked below.

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Chapter warnings: Canon-typical violence, stabbing, drugs/medicine (morphine-adjacent), fear, distress, death mention, loss of parents mention, grief/mourning, angst, near-death experiences, passing sexual references, age gap: older man/younger woman (in flashbacks reader is 20 to Din’s 27, and in current day is 29 to his 36).

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“I’m sorry I shot you,” you say, your voice gravelly. “And for… saying what I said that first day when you came to find me.”

Your head is leaning against his shoulder, his pauldron removed for your comfort. One of his hands is in yours, the other on your leg.

“It’s fine…” he pauses, considers. “…Cyar’ika,” he says hesitantly. You missed hearing him call you that. “You were angry with me. You had every right to be.”

You sigh and close your eyes. “Will you ever tell me the whole side of your story?” It isn’t that you don’t believe him—you do, but you’re missing information that would give you the entire picture.

Mando’s quiet for a long minute. Considering. “Yes. Not right now, though. Let’s wait until we get out on the other side of this. We have enough to worry about.”

You can agree with that. Around a yawn, you ask, “Why did Xi’an end up in a New Republic prisoner transport ship by your hand? And how?”

He’s asked himself that very question. “I considered killing her,” he admits. “It would have been easy to, but I knew that would be the easy way out. I wanted her to live with herself, knowing that there will be no redemption or getting out of this. She’ll have to live the rest of her sorry life with the knowledge of what she’s done and the consequences of those actions. As for the how, I… found myself having to work with her recently against my better wishes. Aside from the obvious, she double crossed me on this job and I gave her some long overdue comeuppance.”

You nod against his shoulder. “‘S a good reason.” You yawn again.

“Go to sleep, cyar’ika. I’m not going anywhere. You need your energy for tomorrow.”

You mumble something. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I can go without sleep for a little while.”

You’re just on the cusp of sleep when an ember from the fire pops, making you jump.

“It’s all right,” Mando reassures. There’s a pause. “Gimme a second.” Untangling himself from you for a second, he unclips his cloak and wraps it around you. “There,” he murmurs. You hum sleepily as he puts an arm around you.

You must fall asleep because the next thing you know, the sun is just beginning to peek its way over the horizon. Mando has moved you so that you’re lying down, his cloak still wrapped around you; vaguely you remember him coaxing you onto the ground so that you can rest easier. You blink slowly. The others are still asleep. Glancing at Karga and his crew, your hackles raise. You don’t trust him. His answers were too easy last night.

Mando’s still sitting on the log, statue-still. You wonder if he might be asleep. Now that you’re beginning to wake up, the ground is hard and uncomfortable. You need to stretch. Get ready for today. Stretching your legs, you pull the cape off you and drape it over Mando’s lap. You lower your head so it’s touching the top of his helmet, put a light hand on his shoulder. He stirs. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper apologetically.

“‘S fine. I need to get up anyway. We need to get going.”

The words of last night hang between you. Not in a necessarily uncomfortable way. It’s clear to both of you that there’s still more to be said. Now is not the time to say them. You’ll have time later, though how much time, you’re not sure as he’s still bringing you back to Kijimi when this is over.

Not for the first time since being picked up by Mando, you wonder what it would have been like if things had gone according to plan. You’ve wondered that a lot over the years.

- - - -

Nine years ago, 0ABY

“Mando made me an offer last night,” you whisper to Zarah as you’re getting ready to open the cantina for the day. Your friend looks at you expectantly. “He’s joining the Guild of Bounty Hunters on Nevarro and he wants me to be his partner,” you say excitedly.

Zarah raises her eyebrows. “Wow,” she says. Though she tries to hide it, she’s clearly not impressed. “Did you say yes?”

You nod, unperturbed by her cynicism. “I’m finally getting out of here.”

She makes a noncommittal sound. “You as a bounty hunter, though?” she asks, giving you a once-over. “Can’t really see it, no offense. Just… doesn’t seem like you,” she remarks.

Ignoring the jab, you say, “That part doesn’t really matter. I’m finally getting out of here, Zarah.”

Zarah can tell there’s no dissuading you. “When are you going?” she asks.

“Mando had to go and finalize everything with Karga, turn in a bounty as well. He didn’t specify. A few days at most.”

Little did you know, the bounty that Mando was charged with was Xi’an’s brother, Qin. He frightened you. They both did, but he didn’t annoy you the way Xi’an did. The sooner he’s done with the whole lot, the better. Something you both agree on.

“I’ll be back soon, cyar’ika,” he’d said to you the night before as you handed him your packed bag of things you could go without for a week. Clothes, trinkets. “I’ll take care of everything and we’ll be seeing the galaxy together in no time.” You had leaned up and kissed him on the cheek of his helmet.

“I’m glad you’re excited,” Zarah’s voice interrupts your memory, “but are you really sure that this is a good idea?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes. It’s something I want to do. And when have I ever done anything that I want to do?” For once, she doesn’t have an answer. “We’ve been living in fear and in hopelessness and misery for a long time. When the rebels destroyed the Death Star a few months ago, it felt like the possibility of something new. Is it so selfish to hope for a better life? To strive for it? To do something for myself for once? This is my chance to do that. With someone that I lo—really like.”

That shuts her up. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“I’ll miss you,” Zarah offers honestly. “You’re the closest thing I have to a sister and you’re finally doing what we all wanted to do.”

You give her a hug. “It’s not goodbye forever. Plus, I have to come and see you in action as the queenpin of Kijimi once Zella retires.”

Three nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when you hear movement downstairs. Your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.

You can’t wait for him to come up the stairs, so you go downstairs to meet him, ready to be on your way. “Mando? Is that you?”

There’s no answer. Odd. Usually he says something in the affirmative. It’s dark. Curfew was hours ago, all the lights off. Ordinarily, you’d leave a light on for Zarah, but she spends more nights at Arden’s or Zella’s these days.

“Who’s there?” you say.

A giggle. Xi’an. Your hackles raise and you back up, wishing you had your blaster on you. She sighs before saying, in an almost sing-song voice, “You really should have stayed out of things that don’t concern you. This will take care of that from happening again.”

That’s all you hear before a literal stab of pain erupts in your ribcage on your left side.

Darkness.

When you come to, minutes or hours or days later, you’re in an unfamiliar place. It takes a minute to register that you’re in Kijimi’s medcentre. You don’t feel much of anything thanks to the cocktail of morphling and bacta coursing through your bloodstream. It’s all a bit hazy, like you’re floating a bit. You think you might want to stay here. It’s warm and comfortable and it’s soft, like you’re on a cloud. Everything’s soft and blurred at the edges and you don’t think anything is capable of hurting you. There’s no pain, but there’s nothing else either. Your vision is blurry, but you think you see Mando standing over you. You blink and he comes into focus. He’s standing stock-still, barely composed. “Who?” he asks, his voice pure steel.

Your voice is raspy; it feels like someone stuffed your throat with burlap. “Xi—” He hands you a glass of water that’s on the bedside table, helping you take a sip. You try again, voice hoarse. “Xi’an.”

Mando doesn’t say anything and you find yourself struggling to stay awake. You need to talk to him, but first you just need to rest your eyes for a second…

When you wake up again later, Zarah is sitting at your bedside. Mando’s gone, if he was ever there to begin with. “Thank the Maker!” she breathes when she sees your eyes are open. “Don’t try to move just yet, okay? I’m going to call the medic.”

Your eyes are hot with tears you refuse to let fall. “What happened?” you croak.

“You were stabbed. By one of the Mandalorian’s former associates,” Zarah explains.

You vaguely remember the events that she’s describing. It seems more like a half-forgotten dream now.

“You’re very lucky. The medic says that if the officer had been even a few minutes later in finding you, you would have died. I’m going to stay with you in the flat until you’re back on your feet.”

That piece of information bounces off you. You notice that the bacta and the morphling has worn off. You can feel the stab wound now, practically radiating pain.

You want to see Mando. He was here, you were sure of it. He has to come to take you away from here. You’re supposed to see the galaxy together. Just you and him. “Mando?” you dare to whisper, blinking against the hot tears that are very close to falling.

Zarah shaking her head is all the confirmation you need. He’s not here.

The twin tears that have been threatening the entire time finally leak from your eyes and you let out a shuddering sigh, forcing yourself not to shed any more tears. He’s just delayed, that’s all. Had to go apprehend Xi’an. He’s coming for you. He’s not leaving you behind.

He promised.

You repeat those words in your mind over and over as the medic administers more bacta and morphling and you return to your hazy, dreamy cloud.

Mando’s coming back for you.

He promised.

- - - -

Present day, 9ABY

“Cyare, are you all right?” asks Mando.

His voice pulls you from your memory. “I’m fine.” You shake your head, attempting to clear the memory away.

Mando clearly wants to say more but the others are beginning to wake. You walk back to the campsite to gather what you brought along with you.

“We should head out,” says Karga.

The monster last night killed two of the Blurrgs, so you allow Kuiil to take the last remaining one. Mando and you walk in step a few paces back from Karga and his Guild entourage, the child right behind you in his pram, and Kuiil taking up the rear on his Blurrg.

Up ahead, you can faintly hear Karga discussing something with his Guild members in low tones. Exchanging a glance with Mando, you ask, “Do you think they are having second thoughts?”

Mando shrugs. “Could be. Keep your eyes on them,” he instructs.

You nod. “I will,” you reply.

Along the walk, the groupings change. By the time the town comes into view, Karga is walking alongside you and Mando and the child with the Guild members and Kuiil behind you. Karga takes a few steps forward. “I guess this is it,” he says.

Before either you or Mando can react, Karga’s shot the Guild members behind you. You and Mando pull out your blasters as quickly as you can, the Guild members falling to the ground, dead. He holds his blasters upright, showing that he’s not intending to shoot again. That doesn’t encourage you or Mando to lower your weapons.

“There’s something you should know,” Karga says, walking over to one of the downed members, pushing him over with his foot and kicking away the blaster before turning to face you. “The plan was to kill you and take the kid. After what happened last night, I couldn’t go through with it.” You keep your weapons aimed at him. “Go on. You can gun me down and it wouldn’t violate the code. But if you do, this child will never be safe. Let me take the child to him and then you two…”

“No.” Mando lowers his gun. “He’s right, but he’s going about it the wrong way. The client is obsessed with getting the kid. He won’t stop until he gets him.”

“At the risk of sounding obvious, it’s a trap,” you point out.

Mando holsters his blaster. “Take me,” he suggests.

“What? Bring you?” Karga repeats.

“Tell him you captured me. I’ll get close to him and take him out,” Mando explains.

Greef likes this idea. “That could work. Give me your blaster.”

“This is insane,” you say as Mando hands over his blaster.

Mando agrees. “It’s the only way.”

“I’m coming with you,” you insist.

Karga is about to disagree but then he thinks of something. “You can be the one that brought him in. It would fit well with…” He gestures at the two of you. “And you can bring the child!”

Mando shakes his head. “No way. We’re going to fool them instead.” Explaining his idea, Mando turns to Kuiil. “Can you bring the child to the ship, lock yourself in?”

Kuiil nods. “I will protect the child.” He hands Mando a commlink and picks up the child from the pram as Mando takes out his cuffs, handing them to you. You don’t lower your gaze as you put them on him, making sure that they aren’t on too tight. The three of you walk into town in silence, the empty pram following close behind you.

After a tense, almost standoff at the entry to the town, you notice something’s not right. “Why are there so many stormtroopers?” you whisper. “I thought you said there were four.”

“The client travels with four. Security has increased since Mando took off with the kid,” Karga replies.

Your heart won’t stop pounding. You can practically hear it in your ears. There is so much room for error and you can’t shake your feeling of trepidation. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” you murmur.

“Me too,” Mando replies.

You arrive at the safehouse and Karga shoves Mando in, you coming in last, your blaster pointed at Mando. Your hands are shaking. You need to summon your queenpin energy. Deep breaths. Steadying your hands, you school your features. Don’t show anyone that you’re afraid. Don’t let them see your bluff. You did this for nine years, you can do it now.

“See?” Karga mutters. “Four stormtroopers.” He ushers Mando to a table where an old man is sitting. This must be the client. “Look what I brought you. As promised.”

The client stands. “What exquisite craftsmanship. It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans.” He touches the beskar of Mando’s chestplate almost in awe. Mando doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. You can feel the nervous tension radiating off him in waves. He turns to Karga and offers a drink. Karga agrees and you all sit down at the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice more stormtroopers coming in. You don’t hear what the client has to say. Something’s not right.

“The Empire improves every system it touches.” You choose that minute to resume listening and you nearly crush your blaster.

“Is that so,” you say calmly, so calm it almost unnerves you.

Karga and Mando both turn to look at you. The client doesn’t seem bothered. “Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare it to what is happening now.” Your hand is shaking again beneath the table. “Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but destruction and chaos.” His beady eyes dart between the three of you as he speaks. He sets your skin on edge. You’d love to give this man a piece of your mind. Not just for hunting down an innocent child, but also for his views and undoubtedly what he did during Imperial rule. Does he know what happened to your father? You can’t say anything. Can’t risk anything. Not now. Were the situation different, though, there would be no stopping you. “I would like to see the baby,” the old man says suddenly.

“Ah…” Karga smacks his lips. “It is sleeping,” he says, thinking quickly.

This doesn’t seem to bother the Imperial officer. “We all will be quiet. Open the pram.”

Your heart must stop. This is it. You risk a glance at Mando. Just as your fate is about to be decided, the client’s hand inches away from the control panel that would open the very empty pram, there’s radio chatter and a stormtrooper comes over to the table, whispering something in the old man’s ear.

“Please do not think me to be rude, but I must take this call.”

A tiny reprieve.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, you hiss, “Give him his blaster. This is our chance.” In your panic, you missed Mando slipping his cuffs off. Karga hands Mando his blaster. “What are we going to do? There are a lot more than just four of them.”

Karga doesn’t know what to say to that. “You get one shot,” he tells Mando in an undertone.

You can’t hear what’s being said on the holocall. The client is speaking in hushed tones to presumably another Imperial officer.

The client looks back and then he falls to the ground, a blaster bolt hitting him square in the chest. He’s dead.

An explosion of noise erupts as blaster bolts start raining fire on the cantina. Mando pushes the table over, giving the three of you protection, guarding you with his body. It’s absolute carnage and chaos. Droids and stormtroopers alike going down left and right. You’re shaking so violently you’re sure you’re going to pass out.

The blaster fire stops suddenly, just as quickly as it had started. Mando touches your arm, says your name. “Are you all right?”

You nod shakily. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too, by the way,” Karga says. “Thank the Maker, the child isn’t here.”

The three of you get up from your hiding spot, weapons in hand, and dart over to the viewport that’s been shot clean away. “Kuiil,” you hear Mando whisper into the commlink. “Have you made it to the ship yet?” You don’t hear the answer. “Get the kid on the ship and get him out of here. We’re pinned down!”

None of you notice the two stormtroopers speeding away.

Outside there is a small army of death troopers, weapons out and at the ready. Another squadron of stormtroopers is quick to follow. A lot more than four. “This is bad,” you say. An understatement if ever there was.

- - - -

“You have something I want.”

Din Djarin is going to die here. You all are. He knows this. He runs through a list of options in his head of every possible way this could play out, and they all end the same. His only hope is that the kid gets out of here and is safe. He was ready to die for the child once before and he’s ready to do whatever it takes to keep him safe now. He made a promise and he fully intends to see this through, regardless of whether he lives or dies.

Din remembers what he said to you on Kijimi all those many years ago. About his parents and how they wouldn’t have been proud of who their son was. When he was a small boy in the days and years following their sacrifice, Din had struggled to understand the meaning of sacrifice and the importance of theirs. He found it completely unfair; their loss had left and still leaves a hole in his chest that he’s struggled to fill for almost his entire life. He only really began to understand their sacrifice when he began working with Ran and the others. The first life he took. The innocent bystanders on Alzoc-III that he’s never told anyone about. When he met you, things really started to change. He already wanted to be a better man, to better honour their sacrifice. Meeting you just gave him the push he needed.

And then the kid came into his life. When Din was sure he was going to die protecting the child in the immediate aftermath of storming the safe house he finds himself in again, he finally understood why his parents did what they did to save him.

He likes to think that if his parents could see him now, they would be proud of their son and the man he became out of the ashes of his former life.

“You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not.”

He just wishes things were different. He’s dreamed of you for years. You never left his head, not for a single day; you are his greatest dream, his greatest wish unfulfilled.

He never got a chance to tell you so many things. What happened back on Kijimi. You never got to see his face. Never got to see the galaxy with him. You’re never going to be able to truly mend fences. Grow old together. He’s going to die without ever having heard you say his name. You’re going to die afraid and alone and so far away from the people you know and it’s his fault. Again. For the second time, he’s failed you.

“In a few moments, it will be mine.”

All Din can do is hope that, despite the lack of response, Kuiil made it back to the Crest with the baby and they’re safely away from here. He never meant to get attached to the kid. Never meant to fall in love with you. But he couldn’t help himself. It was so easy, on both counts. He was starting to think — starting to hope — the three of you could be a little family one day.

“It means more to me than you will ever know.”

Din looks at you. You’re trying to put on a brave face as they set up an E-Web outside, but he knows you. He knows you so well. Your eyes say it all. You’re terrified. You know it’s over. He wants to reassure you that everything will be all right. That you’ll be safe. But he can’t make promises that he can’t keep, especially not to you. He learned that lesson long ago. He can’t fix everything. But he can at least fix one thing. You deserve to know his name before the end. His real name. He says your name, strokes your chin with his thumb. “I need to tell you something.”

“Right now?” you manage to ask. You try to keep your voice steady, try to maintain the facade of stoicism, but Din sees right through it.

“Yes, right now,” he says. “It’s important.”

Rapid gunfire interrupts you. You and Mando turn to look at Karga who’s overturned a couch and is shooting at a sewer grate. He attempts to kick it in, but that does nothing.

“Your astute panic suggests you understand your situation,” says the Imperial officer from outside. “I would prefer to avoid any further violence, and encourage a moment of consideration. Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster.” Though you saw them assemble it, your heart still sinks. The Imperial officer explains what it is and how it operates. “Perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordnance…”

Din doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Neither do you. Din was this close to telling you. He didn’t want you to find out his name this way. In a moment of taunting and jest. He wanted to be the one to tell you.

“Is that your name?” you breathe. “Din Djarin? Is that who you are?”

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, his name being spoken by you. All he can do is nod.

“And perhaps Kijimi’s queenpin,” the man continues, saying your full name, “can speak of relatives to this heavy blaster. Given that she runs several weapons out of her cantina of similar ilk. I wonder what her dearly departed father would think of his precious daughter participating in such behaviour. Or maybe she knows of such weapons from her estranged ex-lover Din Djarin himself. The two of you have been tracked since you were reunited and engaged in what can only be described as a lovers quarrel at Kijimi’s starport before departing to Arvala-7.” You and Mando share a look, a shard of glass piercing your heart at the mention of your father. “You really should have listened to Zarah Bliss, Din Djarin,” taunts the man, “and stayed away from your darling queenpin like Miss Bliss told you to those many years ago. You were doing such a good job of it, too, staying away from her, doing as you were told. But you wanted to be with her again. You just couldn’t stay away. I can’t say that I blame you. And you, queenpin, should know better after all this time than to stick your nose in places where it doesn’t belong.”

Din’s heart sinks. This isn’t the way you were supposed to find out the rest of the story. Or at the very least, find out who’s involved with the prevention of your ill-fated reunion nine years ago. He can’t help but think this man—Moff Gideon, he thinks it might be, based on what little evidence he has—who knows so much about all of you for one reason or another, might be right. If he had listened to Zarah, you wouldn’t be in mortal danger right now. You’d still hate him and think the worst of him, think that he abandoned you and had Xi’an try to kill you, but you would be safe. You wouldn’t be about to die in a dingey, shot-out cantina with him and Greef Karga. He’s failed you, Din thinks again. Moff Gideon is right. He couldn’t stay away from you. Even if he tried. And he tried. Maker knows he tried so hard. He knows that he should have done things differently. He should have told you his name the first time he met you, should have shown you his face the first time the two of you made love. Should have ignored what Zarah Bliss said and gone back to Kijimi to take you away from there. Told you he loves you long before he did. Made you his wife.

You turn to face Mando—Din. Confusion is now mixed with your terror in your eyes, beginning to make its way to the rest of your facial features. You can no longer retain your look of practiced stoicism. All Din wants to do is explain. Keep you safe. Protect you. He doesn’t want anything to be going the way that it is, but he doesn’t have a choice. If there is any consolation in this dire situation, it is that he has known you and your love, and that is no small thing. If he had to do it all over again he wouldn’t change much outside of the things he would do differently with you. His decisions early in life led him to you. Led him to the kid. And he wouldn’t change any of that for the entire galaxy.

“What is he talking about, Mando?” you ask, your voice sounding very far away. “What does he mean? What does Zarah have to do with—?”

Din doesn’t have a chance to answer because Moff Gideon chooses that moment to continue in his monologue. “I also advise disgraced former magistrate, Greef Karga, to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside.” The three of you share a glance of do we listen to him? “The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end.”

Moff Gideon and Karga go back and forth for a minute and it is made very clear very quickly that you cannot trust this Imperial officer to make assurances that he will keep. Not that you did before.

“I will give you until nightfall, and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.” With that, he walks back to his TIE fighter, leaving the three of you alone.

You look at Din and repeat your question from a few minutes ago, knowing that now is not the time, nor do you have the time to discuss it. “What was he talking about?”

--- taglist in reblog.

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fan fiction #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dreams dashed and divided #my writing #my fic

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pesterloglog · 2 months

Text

Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas

Page 291-293

DAVE: i dunno who the flower is in this case

DAVE: shit what if im the flower

KARKAT: SO

KARKAT: DAVE

DAVE: no hold up that makes no fuckin sense i gotta rewind back to the beginning

KARKAT: ARE YOU GONNA KEEP MUMBLING TO YOURSELF OR CAN--

DAVE: oh shit sorry what

DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit

KARKAT: YEAH THAT WAS PRETTY FUCKING EVIDENT.

DAVE: my b bro

DAVE: what were you saying

KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING.

KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.

KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.

KARKAT: AT THIS POINT I'M EITHER GOING TO NEED YOU TO SPEAK UP OR FOLLOW ME THE FUCK ON OUT OF HERE, BECAUSE THIS IS EXCRUCIATING.

DAVE: ok fine ill do the first one

KARKAT: GREAT. TURN UP THE FLOWER TALK VOLUME.

DAVE: so uh

DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story

DAVE: except the flower was a person

DAVE: because it was a metaphor

KARKAT: YEAH LIKE YOU SAID,

DAVE: really convoluted metaphorical horseshit

KARKAT: REALLY CONVOLUTED METAPHORICAL HORSESHIT.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture

DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again

KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY

DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said

DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose

DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that

DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing

KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT

DAVE: gotem

DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long

DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer

DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy

DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean

DAVE: are you ready

DAVE: karkat you havent made any kind of comment about how youre ready in a few seconds so

KARKAT: YEAH DAVE DROP THIS FUCKING BOMB ON ME.

DAVE: ok thanks

DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing

DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there

DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up

DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about

DAVE: so if you were looking for a more concentrated point

DAVE: the real point thats that point simmered in its own juices into a perfect point reduction

DAVE: here it is

DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified

KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.

KARKAT: I’M GOING TO RESIST THE URGE TO CONTINUE YOUR REDUCTION METAPHOR EVEN THOUGH I HAVE SOME INARGUABLY GOOD SHIT LINED UP FOR IT BECAUSE I’M AFRAID OF US GETTING TOO FAR OFF TRACK, HERE.

DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least

KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED.

DAVE: nice

KARKAT: YEAH.

KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS?

DAVE: absolutely

KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF.

KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.

DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from

DAVE: so uh

DAVE: like i said i talked to kan about it some

DAVE: and its not like weve not talked about it either but i dunno

DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them

DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out

DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok

DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror

DAVE: and then if i think about either of them then its only a matter of time til i have to think about dirk too

DAVE: its an if you give a mouse a cookie situation but instead of more snacks its just another layer of fear about my loved ones

DAVE: and with dirk its

DAVE: whew

DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time

DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there

DAVE: like if wed kept up better maybe there woulda been a point along the line where i could have said the right thing somehow and hed idk

DAVE: not stolen rose away on some nightmare family trip

DAVE: forcing us to accept the fact that hes our enemy now and chase after him for an unreasonably indeterminate number of years

DAVE: also like

DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but

DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down

DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that

DAVE: i just

DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i

DAVE: ugh

DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him

KARKAT: IS THAT ALL? I’M POISED ON THE PRECIPICE OF REASSURANCE WITH MY COUNTER-RANT LOCKED AND LOADED BUT IT FEELS LIKE YOU’VE GOT MORE SHIT YOU’RE HOLDING BACK ON.

DAVE: yeah i got another thing

KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.

DAVE: ok fuck its just

DAVE: ...

DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take

DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up

DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that

DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine

DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable

DAVE: but well survive it

KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON.

DAVE: but you

KARKAT: DAVE.

DAVE: no lemme say this

DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it

DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered

DAVE: come up with some kind of plan

DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it

DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now

DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die

#homestuck #homestuck^2 #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck^2 act 1 #page 291 #page 292 #page 293

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vodika-vibes · 10 months

Text

Post Order 66, part 4

The crew of the Starsinger, plus 2, are on their way back to Alderaan to pick up the kids, and inquire about the Rebellion. Conversations happen.

This was supposed to be the trip and Alderaan, but this got away from me. Again, I do all of my typing on my phone, so this is minimally proofread. And I might have jumped tenses. Sorry.

Tagging: @starrrgazingbunny and @thestarwarslesbian

If you dont want to be tagged, just let me know, and I won't do it again. Promise.

For the first time in 2 years, Dusk was grateful that his kids were somewhere else. And he was even more grateful for how long it took to get to Alderaan. He pretended not to notice that Cody was taking a very roundabout way back to Alderaan.

Fox needed the time. And so did Kanna.

But, he hadn't seen Kanna since the day they moved Fox out of the med-bay and into the room that Kanna would be using. He knew that Kanna would sooner cut off her own arm than let Fox starve, and he knew that Bee had been bringing them meals but...

He worried.

He finally had his ori'vod back, and he couldn't even speak with him.

Couldn't bring himself to speak to him.

Oh, he'd had the chance. He could have knocked on the door and asked Kanna for permission to speak to his ori'vod, but every time he came to the door and raised his hand to knock, he just froze.

What would he say? What could he say? "I'm sorry I left," or "I had no choice," both sounded weak to his own ears.

Dusk slumped against the wall across from Kanna's room. In spite of the fact that he hadn't seen much of her, having her on the ship was settling. But then, she'd always had that effect. He hoped it was working on Fox.

But then. Fox had always been a little softer with Kanna than anyone else. Fox used to get so angry when people commented on it though...so naturally they teased him mercilessly every time Kanna left.

Dusk's lips curled up at the memory. It had been ages since he thought about his brothers without feeling a pang of regret.

There was the sound of a door sliding open, and Dusk jerked when the slight frame of Kanna stepped into the hallway. "Kanna,"

She turned to him, and she smiled, "Dusk,"

"How is he?" Dusk asked, well demanded. Same thing really.

Kanna hummed, "Better than I feared, but worse than I hoped." She finally replied, "You could see him, if you like."

Dusk froze, "Does he...I mean, earlier he didn't-"

Kanna seemed to consider her words carefully, "He had his reasons, Dusk. It wasn't because he didn't want to see you though." Her smile softened, "He missed you."

"I...will I make anything worse?"

Kanna shook her head, "If that was even a remote possibility, Dusk, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Go. Talk to him." She paused, "Commander Cody is in the cockpit?"

"Yeah. He," it was Dusk's turn to pause, "He could use your specific brand of help, kid."

"He has it," Kanna promised, giving him a small wave as she brushed past him and headed down the hall.

Dusk waited until he heard Kanna slip through the door that led to the main part of the ship, before he pressed the button that opened the door to Kanna's room.

The first thing he noticed was that the room smelled like antiseptic, the second thing he noticed was Fox was sitting up in Kanna's bed, watching him cautiously.

Dusk stared at his brother, his mind blank for a moment, and then he spoke without thinking, "I knew Kanna would get you into her bed eventually." And then he slammed his hand over his mouth.

Seriously? He hasn't seen his ori'vod in two years, and that's what he says?

But Fox...Fox starts laughing. "She does tend to get her way, doesn't she?" His voice sounded rough, like he hadn't used it in a while, but he sounded so painfully fond, and Dusk couldn't help but smile. Fox tilted his head back, "Can't believe she survived. Closest damn thing to a miracle I've ever heard."

"She's always been tougher than anyone expected," Dusk offered, finally sitting on one of the chairs in the room, "Fox, I..." He hesitated, "I'm so sorry, ori'vod. I should have come sooner, I-"

"Why didn't you?" There was no heat or blame in Fox's voice, just Fox, looking for answers.

"...I have three kids, at the time one of them was just an infant-"

"Are they well? Happy? Safe?"

"I...yes? Of course. I spent the last two year making sure that they would remain safe-"

"Then there's no need to apologize."

Dusk stared at his brother, stunned. That wasn't what he expected.

"Your kids are Jedi, right? Kids you saved during the-...at the temple." Fox's stumble was blatantly obvious, but Dusk ignored it, "In which case you had every reason to stay away."

"Yeah. I guess." Dusk finally said, after he managed to find his words.

Fox regarded him for a moment, and then he settled back against the wall, "Tell me about your kids, vod'ika."

Up in the cockpit, Kanna settled herself in one of the jump seats, and she watched Commander Cody through her force sight.

He was hurting, they all were, with good reasons, but she was concerned. "Do you need any help, Commander?" She asked.

"...no offense, but I'm not sure how much help you'll be." He was curt, but polite. She could work with that.

She hummed thoughtfully, "I am a pretty good listener, if you wanted to get something off your chest."

Cody stilled, and for a moment Kanna thought he was going to yell at her. But instead, he seemed to crumple on himself. "Vader turned me into a Purge Trooper. I spent the last two years hunting down and executing people like you...why don't you hate me?"

Kanna smiled, though he wasn't looking at her, "I'm a Jedi," she said as if it was explanation enough, and, for her, it was. Plus, if I might be so bold, it seems you hate yourself enough for the both of us." Her voice was gentle, but he flinched like she had just brandished a pistol in his face.

"...I killed my General." Cody admitted, "Shot him right off a cliff."

"It wasn't your fault, Commander." Kanna said, "you were used, just like all of your brothers. I don't blame you, and your General wouldn't either."

She really should have paid more attention to battalions outside of the Guards, because she couldn't, for the life of her, remember who his General was.

He released a humorless laugh, "No, General Kenobi always was the forgiving type."

Kanna froze. Oh. Oh.

He thought-

Of course he did. The holo would have remained secret to anyone who wasn't Jedi-

Kanna exhaled slowly, "Commander," she said slowly, gently, as though she was speaking to an easily spooked child, "Commander, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi survived the Purge."

His head whipped around so quickly Kanna had to bite her tongue to keep herself for checking him for any sudden injuries, "You're sure?"

"He sent out a holo, to all Jedi, warning us against returning to the temple. I dont know where he is, but as of two years ago, Commander, he was alive. I swear it."

Cody slumped in his chair, "I didn't kill him." He breathed out, "he's alive." He stood suddenly, "Thank you. For telling me." And then he left the cockpit.

Kanna watched him leave, thoughtfully. She would keep an eye on him, just in case, but he did feel a bit lighter now.

She cast her senses out a little more, checking on all of the people on the ship. Dusk and Fox seemed happy enough, though Fox was starting to get stressed, so she would have to put an end to their conversation soon. Bee was in the med-bay, cheerfully organizing his equipment. And Cody was heading towards his room.

They would be arriving on Alderaan soon. Kanna hoped that it would help.

#star wars #tcw #clone oc #captain dusk #jedi oc #kanna rae #droid oc #Beesix #the borrowed ship is big?#idek

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ciaossu-imagines · 22 days

Note

hiii! nix here! i saw that you opened your ask box, but i don’t have any requests just yet, so i thought i’d just chat with you instead. i did mention before how your match-up made me consider self-shipping (and you’re so great at promoting it, too). since you are sho-chan and i’s biggest shipper so far, i’ve decided to share some of the self-shipping headcanons i’ve come up with over time, just to supplement the headcanons you did for me. feel free to ignore this if you find this tedious, but here they are:

i’m actually a night owl, so there might have been some misinterpretations of a piece of information i previously gave you (which is totally fine!). whenever i go out with my friends at night, i tend to head home early, but then i spend the rest of the night lying in bed, glued to my phone, until it’s 3 or 4 a.m.—or until the sun starts to rise. like shoichi, i can get myself up early if i have to, so i’m used to getting only 2 to 4 hours of sleep whenever i have morning classes. not gonna lie, i’m a little scared that it will eventually take a toll on my body. shoichi’s also concerned about that, but i suppose he doesn’t have much room to comment since he’s also a night person himself 🤣 we’re both the same in a way that we find joy in the peacefulness of doing our own things while everyone else in the world is asleep.

my mom can basically whip up anything in the kitchen, and i wouldn’t trade her homemade dishes for any restaurant food. i could see her letting shoichi try most of her culinary creations, and she’d always invite him to any of our family occasions where her food was served. on the other hand, my dad is also a huge guitar enthusiast, so i can envision him and shoichi finding common ground and enjoying conversations, despite being quite different in many other aspects.

shoichi doesn’t really hang out with my two best friends. sure, they do get along well, and my friends have a high regard for him—after all, they know sho-chan fits my ideal type and support him as my boyfriend. however, whenever i’m with them, shoichi understands that i need my time with my girls. he wouldn’t be bothering me at all or demanding my attention, but i still make sure to let him know where i’d be and what i’d be up to with my friends so that he wouldn’t get worried.

i’m quite a picky eater (i don’t know why i forgot to mention that), so whenever sho-chan and i go out to eat, i’ll mostly end up passing the stuff i don’t like (e.g., pickles, tomatoes, eggs) from my food to his plate, and i think that’s something he’s gonna put up with for the rest of his life. sorry, sho-chan.

whenever i’m being introduced to a new board game, i struggle to pay attention during the instructions part (and those board games that involve using strategy? god, i’m so dumb at them!). you mentioned sho-chan being into dungeons & dragons, but i had no idea about the game itself, so when i looked it up on the internet and saw some pictures, i immediately thought, “oh my god, that looks complicated.” 🤣 but for shoichi, i’ll definitely give it a try. i hope he doesn’t mind me looking at him with bedroom eyes while he’s explaining the rules because he’s just so nerdy and enthusiastic about it that i find it cute 🙈

i tend to suffer from hyperacidity, which is triggered when i skip meals or indulge too much in carbonated drinks. it’s quite a hassle, but i never seem to learn my lesson. i could be stubborn as hell, so shoichi sometimes scolds me if he catches me holding my second can of cola. that’s also the reason why he brings travel-size tums in his bag whenever he’s with me because he knows it’s my lifeline sdfhjksdafk

my college course sometimes requires us to perform return demonstrations for specific medical procedures—for example, intramuscular injections, inserting intravenous lines, and such—and shoichi lets me practice on him for those because my brothers flat-out refused (those poor things chose to miss out on the opportunity of becoming my lab rats ☹️). sho-chan does his best to play the role of a patient, even though he’s so awkward and tense, and we often end up stealing kisses from each other in the middle of it. but i’m truly grateful to him. one day, if things go well for me, he’ll be one of the reasons i make it through this hell of a degree (especially since i’ll be graduating next year, and nothing could make me happier).

of course, it goes without saying i’ll do my best to support him with his studies if he requires my help, even if my knowledge is mostly limited to general or medical-related topics rather than those specific to his courses.

i can see sho-chan being roped into my hobbies. occasionally, in the dead of night, i have this thing of trying on some not-so-modest dresses from my closet that i’d probably never wear out and playing around with makeup just to snap a few photos before wiping it all off. shoichi, albeit reluctantly, becomes my makeup practice dummy (he's only cooperative when i promise not to share his photos with akiko). i’m a woman of my word, of course 😉

i actually got my driver’s license last month, so i’m looking forward to having road trips with him as we sing our hearts out to our favorite songs, and then maybe we could hit the beach or go on a camping trip. i see it as a brief escape from our academic obligations for even just a couple of days.

i’m sorry that it’s long, and thanks for taking the time to read it 🧸🧁⭐️

Yay! Hey Nix! It’s always such a treat to see you in the ask box and thank you for stopping by to chat with me 😊 It makes me really happy and I’m so glad that you’ve been having fun with the self-shipping. It’s really flattering that you think I’m great at promoting it too; I really do try hard to promote anything considered too ‘cringe’ in fandom, since I really feel very passionate about fandom being a safe place where you can be happy doing whatever, without having to worry about whether you’re being ‘cool’ enough to fit into the fandom spaces or if you’ll be teased for this or that. ‘Cringe’ is dead to me, as is gatekeeping or anything else that actively keeps people from fully enjoying something that is meant to be relaxing and fun for everyone. I definitely was so happy to read these to because I am for sure such a fan of this ship! I love all of my reader’s ship, but you and Sho-chan? Just perfect together! These weren’t tedious at all!

I love the idea of you and Shoichi both being night hours and him being worried about you not sleeping enough, but not being able to say anything because like…he’s the same. I can see late night texts to each other definitely being a thing between the two of you, haha, though Mama Bear on this side encourages both of you to get some sleep! Sleep is essential (this is definitely a do as I say, not as I do, but my Zopiclone got taken away because it interferes with another of my pills and that was the only surefire thing that helped my insomnia) and you both deserve it! Though I definitely relate to feeling at peace because the rest of the world is off and sleeping so everything’s quiet and lovely and you get to feel like you’re the only one in the world for a little bit so like, that sentence very much resonated with me.

Your mom is amazing to me, honestly! So much kudos to her because I am not the best chef and I think Shoichi would love getting all that homecooked food. While he loves his mom, cooking was never her real strong suit, so your mom might actually succeed in fattening up a bit. Despite you saying they’re really different in a lot of aspects, I can definitely see him and your dad bonding over guitars and music and general and Shoichi makes friends with your dad, for sure! He might actually really look forward to visiting your home (of course because he loves you and every chance to spend time with you is precious to him) but also just to talk to and chill with your dad! I also fully agree that Sho gives you all the space you need to hang out with your friends and I can see him hanging out with the friends that you’re not really super-close to and you being the same with him. He really would appreciate the fact that you even think to let him know where you are and what you’re up to though, just so he doesn’t worry about you.

Sho would actually be super into the fact that you try so hard to learn D&D for him but he’s quick to realize that you have trouble with the really complicated rules of the game, so I think he convinces the group he plays with (him, Spanner, Gokudera, Byakuran, Chikusa, Haru, Longchamp, Fran, Reborn, and sometimes Dino) to run a one-night more simple, one page tabletop rpg campaign that will be a lot easier for you. I’m thinking something like Himbo Treasure Hunt or something silly and fun like that. (Also, yeah, D&D can definitely be complicated, especially depending on how strict your DM is about all the rules and such…the only game I’ve met that was worse in terms of all the rules you have to learn and all the things you have to keep track of was Magic: The Gathering).

Sho not only carries travel-sized Tums with him everywhere, but when your hyperacidity acts up really bad, I think he eventually starts sharing his stomach pills with you because I definitely believe that boy has stomach pills and definitely has a bleeding ulcer by the time Choice rolls around in the future arc. Note because I work in pharmaceuticals and feel it must be said– please don’t share your prescriptions with people. He’s also more than happy to eat all the food you don’t like for you, especially the eggs. (Side note but you don’t know how happy it made me to learn someone else out there hates eggs too because I get treated like a freak for hating them.) Him being treated as your patient for your demonstrations…that he had to get used to at first but he’s so happy to be able to do something to support you and he’s getting paid in kisses, so he actually might feel like he’s winning there. Same with being used as a guinea pig for you playing around with make-up. He gets to see you in those not so modest dresses after all, so who’s really winning there? Him. He feels it’s definitely him, though please never, ever share those photos, the poor boy would die!

Aww, I just honestly loved everything you typed and shared and just, it put a huge smile on my face so thanks again for sharing!!

#i ship this so hard #sho/nix #ah you don't know how happy my friend's self-ships make me #thank you so much

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deputy-buck · 6 months

Text

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @acorrespondence for the tag!💚

How many works do you have on ao3?

11 currently, soon to be 13 if I can just buckle down and write the two requests in my askbox-

7 - Generation Kill 3 - Justified 1 - Band of Brothers

What's your total ao3 word count?

5,952 I'm not a LongFic writer by any means-

What fandoms do you write for?

Published: Justified, Band of Brother, Generation Kill

Not published: The Pacific, Game of Thrones, UFC ahem...

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Docile Alpha (36) Silver Wrapped (30) MOLLE Pouch of Memories (20) Sold For Temporary Use (6) Good Coffee and Good Mornings (6) Gracious (5)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Every time that I can provide a response of substance, but if I really can't come up with a response, I appreciate it silently and mark it as read.

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I hate writing angst so I simply don't have anything angsty :) Maybe MOLLE Pouch of Memories counts as angst but it's really not.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Either Sunshine or Good Coffee and Good Mornings both are cute as could be to me.

Do you get hate on fics?

NO and idk how people get hate comments??? On fic??? grow the fuck up and just click away, nobody wants to hear your complaining about FICTION.

Do you write smut?

Yes, it's my favorite to write and read, but it's hard for me to get the feelings down into words, so I'm very slow in writing it. (sorry to the two amazing prompts in my Ask Box, I promise I'm writing for them both, just... slowly.)

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No and I don't enjoy crossover fics, so I filter them out/don't click on them if they make it through the filter. (hate commenters take note of how I handled media I don't enjoy)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, I haven't been writing long enough nor will I ever be popular enough.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also no for the same reason above.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sort of. Back way back I was bouncing ideas off of other people in the Ghost (band) fandom and one got posted, I think it's still up on Ao3, something about Rain/Dew fucking where the rest of the Ghouls could watch, posted 2019.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

God I wish I could say but I would get shit for it so here's each fandom. Gen Kill: Brad/Trombley OR Brad/Poke BoB: Speirs/Liebgott The Pacific: Eugene/Sidney Justified: Boyd/Raylan/Tim (second fav) GoT: The Hound/Gendry/Tormund UFC: Islam/Charles

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I can never publish it so it sort of gets put on the back burner but the title is "Holy Mother, Let me Taste Him" which is two characters that have been together for Years having a discussion about Character B wanting to get with someone new, Character A is a little hesitant for specific reasons revealed by Character B (otherwise Character A would be fully on board) and it gets a little sad and immoral but it's based in love, respect, and loyalty. I might figure out a way to change some names and pronouns and ranks, maybe I can post it some way.

What are your writing strengths?

Daydreaming- Okay, I really don't know, I think that's something you're told about by readers. Dialogue comes easy to me but I'm not sure if it's good.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The act of writing- Probably setting, trying to cohesively write what the atmosphere is like and keep it relevant to the rest of the story is very hard for me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it for a couple characters but I don't like it because I don't trust any translator apps to do a language justice.

First fandom you wrote for?

Fuck, probably Supernatural (🤢 I know)

Favorite fic you've written?

Marines on Watch or Docile Alpha

Sorry if I missed you imagine your @ in the following list: @merriell-allesandro-shelton @caffeinated-fan @ableedingpen idk anyone else but I'm not kidding, if you see this and want to do it, I'm tagging you!!! I am!! You've been tagged!!

#buck builds #tag game #band of brothers #the pacific #justified #generation kill

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tysonrunningfox · 2 years

Note

Hello!

I wasn't sure from your post if you were soliciting prompt requests, but if you were, may I please request either 1. "I didn't know you wore glasses, and I'm thinking normal and platonic thoughts about you right now I swear," or 10. "I have never been this sick before I'm sorry did I, haha this is so weird, but did I confess my love for you? f- four times? yeah? haha oh" with Hiccstrid, because I'm a simple lady with a fierce devotion to that ship. Thank you for your consideration and sorry you've been dealing with writer's block!

So here's the first one. I also like the second, and am trying to get back into drabble brain so I hope I come back to it.

Also, this prompt struck me as needing to belong in my hencetoforth undiscussed art thief Hiccup AU, so this is that?

Send me prompts

------

"I didn't know you wore glasses, and I'm thinking normal and platonic thoughts about you right now I swear."

It hasn’t been a secret that Astrid isn’t thrilled to work with Hiccup. Not to the agency, after her near miss in Paris. Not to Hiccup himself, after her continued attempts to turn him in on increasingly tiny scraps of evidence.

No, it’s absolutely been a surprise that no one has pulled out handcuffs or a surprise escape.

They’ve been working well, in a practical sense, as in they both have valuable intel at each of their carefully arranged meetings and they never ask where it came from. But something had to give, eventually.

“Sorry, Jetlag,” Hiccup says to cover a yawn, his voice a little lower in a distinctly sleepy way, “where did you get that information?”

Then he pauses for her to answer, pushes his glasses up his nose and waits. They’re not particularly stylish, blocky and black rimmed, obviously thick in a way that makes his eyes look bigger, greener between the bluish, exhausted tinge of his eyelids.

Astrid can’t stop staring.

Maybe it’s the vulnerability, the chink in the master thief armor, the humanity of it. Maybe it’s just how his eyes look so big and green and his hair is flicking up above the arm of them where it meets the shell of his year makes him look huggable in a way she refuses to comment on.

He looks like he’s warm.

“Inspector Hofferson?” He clears his throat, one eyebrow quirked above the thick rim of his glasses and she swallows hard.

“Yes?”

“Where did you get that information?” He gestures to the grainy security camera pictures of the painting they’re after with a casual, long-fingered and freckled hand, and she blinks hard, clearing her throat.

“I don’t believe we agreed on sharing sources, Mr. Haddock, if that’s changed—”

“No, no.” He waves her off, scratching behind his ear, and his hair looks redder against the black of his glasses, glinting in the fluorescents. “Just, I thought you might have shared the file on the server. Again, jetlag.”

He pushes his glasses up slightly onto his forehead to rub his eyes and she barely refrains from biting her lip.

“Have you always worn glasses?” She blurts out, which in the grand scheme of things is not the worst thing she could say.

Hiccup pauses, readjusts the cursed frames on his face and smiles that lopsided smile that has always been infuriating in the past, when he was escaping her, but only looks soft now.

“Since I was about six, I guess. I got contacts as soon as I could, which wasn’t soon enough. Are we here to go over my elementary school trauma or are we here to find the Night Fury?”

He still has that singular way of referring to art like it matters that makes Astrid’s breath catch in her throat. Like there’s something more than billionaire’s trading in status, like it still matters that at one point masters painted things with meaning. And that’s why she’s here, working with him.

It doesn’t matter how his glasses magnify his tired green eyes and somehow make his globetrotting look more sympathetic than glamorous.

It doesn’t matter, and yet.

“Of course. Of course.” She flips through her notebook, clicks between windows on her laptop.

“What?”

“I’m…” She clicks to the last few windows she has left, her expense spreadsheet and a comparison of best shoes to walk all day without breaking them in.

“You’re what?” He huffs, but it makes him paler, more stark behind the glasses, and his eyes are green, green, green. Staring right through her in a way that she’s avoided previously so well that she got this job, which for the first time she recognizes is impossible.

It’s the glasses, focusing that gaze. Humanizing it. Making the master thief into a tired, handsome guy who she’s unfortunately entwined with.

“You look good,” she says, like an insult, even though it’s not. “With the glasses. They look. Your face…” She gestures, alarmingly like he’s rubbing off on her.

He blinks, big green eyes magnified.

She doesn’t like it. Not at all.

“Is that um.” He clears his throat, adjusts his glasses again across the sharp bridge of his nose, “is that all?”

“I still need to know you what you think of the pictures,” she forces her eyes to his, forces her mind to The Night Fury and where it might have ended up and what could happen if they don’t find it.

Hiccup blinks at her and yawns, glasses rendering his sharp angles soft, all big green eyes and chapped pink lips, and she tries to keep a straight face.

“Tomorrow?” He asks, stretching like that helps anything, sweater that smells like airport and Hiccup riding up just enough to show that he’s not wearing a shirt underneath.

“Sure!” She agrees too loudly, slamming her laptop shut. “Tomorrow. That’s. Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She doesn’t look back, even though it makes her worry all night that he fell asleep on the table. Glasses on.

#httyd drabble #hiccstrid #modern au #hiccup art thief au

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 years

Text

The Reaper and The Death Angel Part 37

I've got covid and I feel like death. However, if I don't write, I'll do nothing all day long and it's the only thing taking my mind off how I feel. Please enjoy!

Part 36

Series Masterlist

Contains: Fluff, angst, violence, canon typical misogyny, smut (oral sex F receiving, fingering, P in V)

7.K Words

Comment if you wanted to be tagged or follow #the reaper and the death angel

Home again, home again, jiggety jig.

"Oh Herman, you're gonna want to hear what I just found out."

Holt came screaming around the corner with the stack of faxed papers in his hands, waving it with a strange look on his face, "you sure?"

You nodded, "yep, positive. I've got to have this phone call then I'll be in to go over my theory."

"Sorry about that. I just crossed referenced some things, the developer Hale is trying to get into Charming is a serial arsonist or is hiring one, to burn down buildings so he can buy then at a lower price. So far all the fires have been in Oakland but it's only a matter of time before it happens here."

"Shit, I'll have Miles and Phill go to Lumpy's make sure nothing goes wrong, thanks for letting us know so soon."

You could hear him yelling orders in the background, "I've got some Anvil guys to go down there as well, we can never be too sure. What happened to Shepard?"

"He bailed, dude had the heart of a bird that was scared of its own shadow."

It wasn't a surprise, "alright friend, I've got to head back to work but I've faxed all the details to you. I'm going to see if there's someone in Oakland who will lend me their ear."

Kozik chuckled, "who you got in mind wonder woman?

"Damon Pope."

"The IRA already put out a kill order."

Stahl huffed, "if you want to get reduced time for the Club you need to try harder."

Jax hung up, as he walked up the stairs, Maureen came down them, "I'm not sorry about Trinity, but I'm really glad you told her."

She waved her hand, "you did the right thing Jax, thank you."

He pulled her into his arms, "I've got something you boys might want to see." They walked into the inn and Maureen handed them an address, she didn't know what it was for but she hoped it would help them find Jimmy.

When they showed up, they found Sean Casey dead and a stack of paperwork that put Jimmy squarely in the Russian's pocket. When Happy found Casey's teeth at his feet Chibs was rushing off to find his family while someone called Juice.

Sam went over the strewn about files, "Putlova? He's in Norcal, right?"

Clay picked up the bit of paper, "yeah, he is. Call Tig see what he can find out. Remind me again what your sister's guy came up with?"

Sam shrugged, "standard Russian Mafia stuff, they own strip clubs and brothels throughout the state. They have a small gun-running business but nothing close to what the Irish have. Nothing she found was of much help past that."

Clay nodded, "get some of this Cyrillic to her, see if she can translate it before we find Jimmy."

Sam was halfway to dialing you, "already done, it will take her five minutes tops."

"Hey little brother, how can I help?"

You could hear the shuffle of papers, "I just sent you some photos, can you tell me what's going on?"

You huffed, "that was a silly question."

The photos came through on the Anvil app seconds later, "it's the names of shell companies, four to be exact. One is shipping, one is moving and packing specifically for large shipping containers, one is trucking and the other is load security. I'll send you the names but it looks like they're all California companies."

"You are a life saver, we owe you so hard." He hung up after a very quick goodbye, "Clay, y/n came through. I've got something."

********

You straightened your lab coat one last time before walking into the building, "hello miss, how can I help you today?"

You smiled warmly, "I'm Dr y/n, I need to see Mr Pope. Please tell him I'm here about some fires in a handful of low income properties in one of his neighbourhoods, I'm not with the cops, I'm just a concerned citizen."

She smiled, "he's very busy but I'll see what I can do, have a seat right over there."

Half an hour later, you were being called into his office, "hello Dr l/n, how can I help you today?"

You smiled and accepted his extended hand, "you don't remember me do you?" He tilted his head, "we were at a funeral for a little girl, Heather Willams, she went missing, I was the one who identified her."

He nodded softly, "I do remember you, you came with all the staff from the lab where her body was being held."

"Yes, fortunately, I'm not here about dead children today. Have you heard of a Mr Mason Tutler?"

He squinted and picked up his office phone, "yeah Jenny, send August in, please." About a minute later, a tall man in a grey suit walked in.

"What do you want with Mr Tutler?"

It sounded like he didn't like the man, "I believe he's responsible for fires that took the lives of people in your old neighbourhood. I have all the proof I need to send him to prison for the rest of his life but I can't go to Charming PD because all the fires happened in Oakland. I also know that some of the fires happened in buildings you were going to buy so you have every reason to want this man behind bars."

"What's in this for you?"

You turned to August, "this man he's working with is Charming's main developer Jacob Hale, who almost hired a Neo-Nazi to beat a holocaust survivor. You can understand that I don't want fires catching at home." Pope smiled, it was hard to tell if it was false.

"Let me call a detective I know and we'll go over this together. Are you here because of that huge warehouse fire, last I heard it was a drug cook gone wrong?"

You shook your head, "nope, had our machines not picked up on the minute traces of accelerant, it would have been ruled that way but it was there. I had someone I know and trust look into other fires in buildings Mr Tutler owned or was interested in and found the same thing."

The defective arrived much faster than you expected, "Dr l/n has something I'm sure will interest you."

You went over the information, pausing to answer questions and give more details. The detective looked over the photos of the burn patterns, "why do you think he's done this?"

"Personally, I think he loves money but if I was to go with what I'd say in court? He chooses properties that are either owned by small businesses or ones slated for low income and subsidised housing. My guess he's using the tax breaks and government handouts to fill his pockets while using poor buildinng materials and cheap labour. The rest of the money goes into his pockets.

"Well this is… I can arrest him the moment I leave with all of this. Can you fax the lab reports to me in organised crime and I'll file them with the arrest paperwork?"

You nodded, "done."

Pope locked his fingers together, he looked like someone out of the Godfather, "what do you really get out of this?"

You smiled, "I told you, justice for the six burnt bodies I had to wade through over the last few days. However, if you feel like you owe me something, you don't."

"At least let us pass your name on to the people affected, I'm sure their lawyers would want to know this before he hits the courts."

You shrugged, "if you want to do something, make sure you find a link to Jacob Hale. He'll do this to my neighbourhood if given a chance and I can't let that happen."

Pope nodded, "that's all you want?"

"Yep, I have no motives other than bad people getting what's coming to them. What happened to Heather's killer tells me you want the same thing."

He looked at August then gave you a half smile, "you are an impressive young woman. Here's my card, if you have anything else you want to discuss please don't hesitate to call."

You took the business card from him, "thank you, Mr Pope, August, the offer goes the same way. I'm sure the kids you buy ice creams for would love a tour of my museum."

****

"Are we any closer with a location?" Clay shook his head, "nothing panned out, can your sister do some more digging?"

Sam nodded, "I'll talk to her but she's swamped with a problem with Hale, something about a dirty developer."

Clay didn't look impressed, "leave her to that, we can have him growing another head while we're here."

Before the others could suggest something, the priest showed up. "We have word on Jimmy, we think he's about to board a Russian plane back to the states, I think I've managed to convince the Kings to allow you to handle it but they still need to decide. The moment they come back with their decision, you have to move."

They shared a look, "get us his location and we'll do it."

Jax turned towards Sam, "call Russo, tell him we'll be leaving soon." Sam was already on the phone by the time Jax was done talking.

"I will be back with news soon."

The priest left and there was silence in his wake, "he can't get out of the country."

Juice was understandable upset, "we know, we'll get to him in time." It took an hour before the kings came back with their decision.

"One of Jimmy's soldiers gave up his location, you are to follow your task then leave Ireland, we will be in touch when you land back in the states." They raced off as soon as they were allowed to, heading to the address that they were given.

It was an aeroplane hanger, the wheat fields around it were damp with the rain and they could smell the farms in the distance. As they drove up, they could hear people moving around, Jimmy voice was clear, along with a handful of thick Russian accents.

Clay put his finger to his lips as the others pulled their guns. They rounded the corner and the men stopped still for the briefest of moments before drawing their guns and firing, the Sons returning with their own bullets.

"Get him into the plane." There was a rush of bodies and the rage of the muzzle flashed as they loaded Jimmy into the plane, the Sons were pinned down by heavy fire as the pilot started pulling out of the hanger, as Sam raised his gun to aim at the plane, Jax pulled him back, they couldn't focus on Jimmy now.

"Fuck."

Jax turned around to see Happy clutching his arm, yelling over the gunfire, "you right brother?"

Happy cursed again, "it's just a graze."

Jax nodded, "we need to get out of here." They retreated slowly, at this point the small Russian force was on the back foot and got onto their bikes.

As they pulled into the safety of the road, they watched the plane climb into the sky.

"Fuck."

********

You were driving down the highway with Ima and Abel in tow, the stars had just starting to come over the sky. "Is there a reason you were asking Cindy about her design business?"

You nodded, "yeah, Anvil's looking to do some more high-end stuff, including luxury boat rides for their wealthy clients who want to party in safety and style. I saw some of her stuff and thought she'd be a good fit. Billy's sent her the contract just before I left."

"Wow, that soon?"

She seemed very surprised, "yep I own a large amount of the company, Billy trusts me."

She smiled softly, "when does their Oakland field office open?"

Abel was babbling along, doing his best to contribute, "two weeks, I wanted to ask Jax if he wants to come to the opening party but he's got so much going on right now."

Ima shrugged, "I'm sure he'd love to go, it's only one night." She took out her phone as you stopped at the lights, a car pulled up behind you, close enough that it was rude. Out of habit, you checked that all the doors were locked, they were. Your ears pricked as you heard the doors of the other car open, you looked in the rearview mirror to see two men with guns on their hips getting out.

"Act natural, someone's about to try and carjack us. This thing's a tank, they'd need a bomb to get into it so we're just going to sit here, call the cops."

Knock knock

One of the men was standing at your window, "can I help you sir?"

He was doing his best to act normal, "yeah, we're really lost. Can you point us to Charming?"

You gestured behind you, "you're on the right track, keep following his road then turn left and you'll be there. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Ima was on the phone, you could hear Hale saying he was on his way.

You got out your phone and snapped a picture with the flash on, "sir, if you're going to try and rob us it's not going to work. This thing is a tank, did Jacob Hale send you?" His eyes went wide as he looked to the other man, Ima was keeping herself together.

"My child is in the car, I will not hesitate to kill you if you put him or my passenger in danger. I have your faces, leave now and this stays between us."

He went to pull his gun but you were faster, "not a good idea, I've killed far more men than you, would you like to test me?" His friend checked Ima's door, "they're all locked, you can check all of them if you want." Another car pulled, and they turned their heads.

"Keep driving." But the driver didn't move at the sight of the gun, and with the opening of the door, Hale and two of his deputies we getting out.

"Put the guns down." They went to run but you opened the door on one of the men, the shock of the heavy thing hitting him stunned him enough that he hit the ground. He took one look at your gun in his face and put his hand up.

"Move and you die." The other man was frozen to the spot as Hale put him in cuffs, something about the way he looked at Ima, you imagine his smug smile set her off and she was coming out of the car. The deputy holding the man was shocked enough that he didn't react right away, then Ima's fist flew at his face.

"You fucking asshole, my nephew's in the car." Hale made no move to stop her as her knee met his crotch as he flopped over, it was only after her shoe met his face did someone pull her away.

"Shit Ima, you know how to hit a guy."

She smiled, "it's been a long week, I really wanted to hit something."

You held up a finger to signal to the deputies to stay where they were, "I've sent their photos off to a friend of mine, she's going to get back to me in ten minutes. That's the time you have to come clean or I'm going to ask Charming PD to add child endearment to your rap sheet, I'm sure that will make jail fun."

"It was his brother, but he just wanted us to scare you, I swear."

David walked off and the men were loaded into the back of the car, "David, do nothing, we have no proof."

He swallowed, "I'll keep them away from the phones, I hope you know what you're doing."

You climbed back into the car and drove away, "you good?"

She nodded and looked behind her, "he has no idea what just happened."

You smiled, "I think we should head home and eat ice cream on the couch."

"Good idea."

****

"We know that Jimmy is heading back to Northan California with the Russians. You'll only have a small window to get to him, we need you to kill him." This flip-flopping was really starting to get to them. They shared an unimpressed look, "it's come with rewards, a massive expansion to your gun business."

Clay put a cigar in his mouth, "if you do this, we'll give you access to our full arsenal. AR-Fifteens, MP5s, RPGs, everything. Plus all of Jimmy's contacts in the Western US. It means putting up more charters, creating more alliances. You think The Reaper is up to that challenge?"

Clay nodded, "yeah, I think we can help you out."

There was a knock on the door, it was Juice with their bags, "time to go guys." They left soon after, waiting at the hangar for the plane to arrive, just before they boarded, Jax got a phone call.

"Hey Darlin, we're just about to fly home. Is everything ok?" It struck him as strange, you would be at work right now, there's no way you call outside one of your breaks.

"Jacob Hale just tried to have me killed, while Abel and Ima were in the car."

Jax took a sharp breath, "is everyone ok?"

He was starting to shake, "we're all fine. One of the guys said that he was just sent to scare me but when David went through his phone they found the opposite, it was a paid for hit."

"We're getting on the plane now, we'll be home by the time you wake up in the morning."

You could hear the fear and anger in the voice, "we'll meet you there. We're ok, I promise."

****

Billy laid a hand on your leg, "they'll be here in twenty minutes, stop worrying."

You bounced your leg anyway, "this is the second time something almost happened to Abel on my watch, what kind of mother puts their child in that much danger."

Billy shook his head, "you had him in a bomb proof car in the car seats that are rated to be used for high ranking government staff, nothing was going to happen to him. Ima is fine and Hale is probably going to prison. Stop worrying, that's on order."

You chuckled, "me not worrying? You don't know me very well."

He shook his head, "go inside and play with Abel, I'll wait out here." Billy came to get you just as their bikes pulled up.

You raced up to Jax and he all but lifted you into the air, "I miss you so much Darlin."

You rubbed your nose with his, "I missed you too." Billy handed him Abel, who lifted his little hands and tugged on Jax's beard.

"I missed you too little man." Before the reunion could continue, Clay got a call. The call was short, Clay spoke very little and seemed unimpressed, he almost crushed his phone as he hung up. "That was Arizona, they'll be here in two days. They're working closely with the Mayans charter in Santo Padre and want to talk about a bigger cut if we start selling them more guns."

Jax huffed and his head dropped against your shoulder, "the work never ends."

You shook your head, "no it doesn't."

Sam cleared his throat, "I'm here too."

You rolled your eyes at him, "yeah well, you smell like a foot so I'm not hugging you until you've had a shower."

He laughed and pulled you away from Jax, hugging you so hard that your face was pushed into his chest, "I missed your too sis."

Jax and Sam slept the whole day and into the night when they got home, Jax only waking up when Abel wouldn't stop crying. "You feeling better now?"

He shrugged, "still a little jet lagged but I'm happy to be home, have you heard anymore about Hale?"

You nodded, "yep, they're drawing up the warrant now."

"I don't want you leaving the house without protection. We have church, then I'll be home."

You went to protest but Jax put a firm hand on your shoulder, "I almost lost you and Abel twice in as many months, I know you can look after yourself and I know you'll do anything to protect our son but please do it for me."

You smiled softly, "alright, are you going to tell Kip about his patch today?"

Jax chuckled and buried his head in your neck, "yep. I love the fact that a local politician is trying to kill you and you're thinking of someone else." His hand came up to put a strand of hair behind your ear.

"We'll be home for a late dinner but don't wait up if you're tired."

You nodded and Jax pressed a firm kiss to your lips, "can you give us everything you have on Hale and his buddies?"

You walked to the bench and handed him a thick file, "that's everything, but Penelope is expecting your call, I've put her number at the top."

Thank Darlin, I love you."

"Love you too."

****

"Take off the kutte." Kip's eyes went wide as he pulled the leather off his back, "put in on the table." He placed it in front of Chibs, who sliced off the prospect patch. Just as he was about to walk out, the table burst out into cheers and the other rockers were placed on the now blank kutte.

"Welcome to SAMCRO Sack." He sat down next to Chibs and they started to go over the events of the last few days.

"I didn't know y/n's guy was actually a woman."

Sam smiled, "Derek Morgan, the tall black guy setting up Anvil's Oakland office, is her husband. She's the biggest ray of sunshine on the planet."

"Y/n said she talked to some Oakland hot shot about Mason Tutler. From what she said we won't need to worry about him after this guy gets to him."

Kozik shook his head, "you old lady is one scary chick."

Jax smiled, "I know, who did she talk to?"

"Damon Pope, apparently he used to be a shot caller for the gangs in Oakland, he still helps with The Niners, but now he's a community leader. She told me he had a child molester who she helped put away get killed inside."

Sam huffed, "I like this guy already."

Jax tilted his head, "was that the Heather Willams case? I remember when she read about the guy's death in the paper. She said she thought someone at the funeral might have been responsible but she didn't go into it."

"If she thinks it's him she won't say anything to us, she would have said something to him though."

Juice flipped through the paper in the files, "I'll call Penelope, we'll see it she has anything else to say."

"Hello gentlemen, y/n told me you'd be calling."

She did sound like a ray of sunshine, "what can you tell us about this developer?"

There was the clanking of keys, "nothing now, he's dead. Killed by a tenth street killer gang member four hours ago. The killer said his little sister was burnt in a fire in a building he owned, said he saw him and couldn't contain himself."

Someone huffed, "wow, this Pope guy really comes through. What about Hale?"

Penelope tutted, "we have enough of a paper trail to put him in prison for the rest of his life. He'll have to pull out as mayor now. Can I help you with anything else?"

Clay shook his head, "no thanks, you've been a huge help."

"It's nothing, I hope to see Jackson at Anvil's opening party in two weeks. Call me whenever you need a hand." Jax blinked in confusion, you have never mentioned the party to him.

"What's next?"

Sam rubbed his face, "we've reached out to the Russian but we're still waiting to hear back, other than that, there's nothing to report."

Clay slammed the Gavel, "head home guys. Arizona will be here early in the morning but they won't be here for long. I know we've got a lot going on but this could be big for us so I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour."

****

"Hey."

Jax pulled you into his arms, "hey." You walked him to the kitchen and handed him a ladle, "we're just about to sit down for dinner, help yourself."

Jax piled his plate high and sat down, "did I hear right that you kicked one of the guys in the calls?"

Ima nodded, "yep, he deserved it. What should Jax wear to the Anvil party?"

Your eyes went wide, "umm, it's doesn't matter, there's so much going and I can guarantee it won't be any fun."

Jax waved his hand, "I want to go, this has been in the works for months."

You rolled your eyes, "a three piece suit, sorry."

Jax smiled, "done, I can't wait to see your dress."

The conversation went on late into the night, "I beat, I'm heading to bed. They're letting me back in the lab tomorrow but only if Hale's arrested. I'll be at the Clubhouse for when Arizona shows up."

Jax walked into the bedroom soon after you, "I'm really sorry all this is happening."

You shrugged, "this is nothing Jax. When I was overseas, the biggest bounty on my head was forty million US dollars, I get offended if someone isn't trying to kill me."

Jax chuckled, "your grandfather would be proud, a Neo-Nazi wants you dead."

You smiled softly, "yeah he would be. I miss him so much sometimes. He didn't care I'm into women, I brought a girlfriend to the house expecting him and my grandmother to never speak to me again but he hugged her and said that the only thing that mattered was that I was happy."

"I'm sorry I never got to meet him."

You dropped your forehead onto his chest, "he would have loved you, probably would have asked you to help him with one of his old cars."

Jax pulled you into his arms, "let's hit the hay, it's been a long week."

"Good idea, good night beloved."

"Good night Darlin, I love you."

****

The pounding on the bedroom door woke you up, "aah, what?"

Sam pushed and the door flew open, seconds later the newspaper was being thrown and your head, "read it." Sam yelled it as he walked away, Jax was looking around bleary eyed.

"What was that?" You showed him the front page.

"Trouble in paradise, how Jacob Hale might spend the rest of his life inside."

"Shit, you going to work today?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'll have David come to the lab to take my statement, I'll be at the Clubhouse just after five."

Jax smiled, "are you forgetting something?" You tilted your head then it hit you, so you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Good morning beloved."

****

"Ahh, a Mr Pope with a handful of tiny humans at the door for you."

You smiled, "send them in, they're here for the tour." Seconds later, Pope and a group of ten children arrived, "Hello everyone, when I offered Mr Pope some tours for his friends, I didn't think he would act so soon. Where would everyone like to start?"

All the hands went up, "can we start with the Dinosaurs?"

"Of course we can." Pope walked next to you while you showed the kids around, "I hope that young man has a good lawyer, temporary emotional distress is a valid defence."

Pope nodded, "don't worry, he'll be taken care of. All these kids lost their homes, we're helping but I figured they enjoy a break."

You nodded, "this is the best part of my job, I need it just as much as they do."

He smiled, "yeah, I get that. Thank you for bringing up the issue that started all of this. August and I do our best to keep the neighbourhood safe but with guys like this, sometimes they slip through the cracks."

The tour finished just after three, Pope pulled you aside as the kids were getting their faces painted by Angela and her intern, "my offer still stands, if you ever need anything, please call. I think we could do a lot of good together."

"Thank you Mr Pope, I can say the same thing for you. You have my numbers."

****

You put on a simple outfit for the Club party, jeans and a nice button up black top with sheer sleeves and a mesh back that showed off your crow. Jax walked over to you as you got out of the car, Arizona was already there, milling around the compound.

"Hey, how was your day?"

You shrugged, "good, I'm halfway through a case and I got to give some kids from Oakland a tour. Have you heard anymore about Hale?"

Jax nodded, "he's been at the station all day, it looks like he's going to plead to a lesser charge but it's hard to say."

The sight of Billy's car pulled your attention away, "did you call him?"

Jax shook his head, "nope, did you?"

You waved to your friend, "nope, he must be here about the field office." Sure enough, Billy spoke to Sam and Jax about T-M doing the vehicle maintenance for Anvil.

"It's pretty simple, you send your guys our way, we train them for a week at our expense and then they do all our cars. You don't all have to come all at once but we'd like it if you all did the training."

Jax tilted his head, "why didn't you bring this to Clay?"

Billy was blunt, "because y/n didn't endorse him. You guys can handle it, I'm sure Gemma will be fine doing to programing. I have no problem telling Clay why."

Billy actually waved Clay over to speak to him, "while you do own this business, I like to work with people I know well and I know these two far better than I know you. I'm sure the two million dollar advance, the free top notch training and this massive contact make up for the fact that I brought this to you step-son and not you?"

Clay nodded, "I get it, you know these guys and you don't know me. I'm grateful we chose us. Stay tonight, drinks are on us."

Billy looked over at you, "why not, free booze is free booze."

****

The night was fun until the party really started, the man who caused problems for you last time Arizona was here was still in the Club, even if no one liked him. You were talking to Billy and Jax when you saw the man talking to the new Arizona prospect, and then he was coming up to you.

"You still with Teller."

You drew back away from him, "do I know you?"

He crossed his arms, "I asked you a question, are you still with Teller?"

You nodded, "yes, why do you want to know?" He was acting like Jax wasn't even there, when he went to intervene, you put your hand up.

"I don't appreciate your attitude. As you can see, I'm still with Jackson, why do you want to know?"

He was getting pissed off and you had no idea why, "because you're a bitch." Your eyes went wide, Billy had moved in front of Jax so he couldn't do anything.

"Can I help you or are you just going to insult me?"

He huffed and turned to Jax, "you shouldn't have an old lady that everyone hates."

Billy was working to keep Jax at bay. "How about this, I go around and ask everyone how they feel and say you told me no one likes me."

He looked like he didn't want that, "you really love the sound of your own voice, don't you." You looked behind him and the other member was watching on, "walk away dude, if you have a problem with me, take it up with Clay." He went to walk away but when he met the eye of the Arizona man, he turned around and slapped you across the face.

Billy put all his weight into stopping Jax from moving and the Clubhouse went silent. You looked the prospect in the eye and started to talk, "who put you up to this? No prosepct in their right mind would hit the old lady of the mother charter's VP. Was it your friend behind you?" He looked behind him and did his best to backtrack but you were walking past him and standing in front of the man.

"Don't bother lying, was it you?"

He sneered, "yeah it was, you need to learn your place."

You smiled, "don't be a coward sir. If you want to hit me, let's put on gloves and head to the ring now. I'll sweeten the deal, we do two ten-minute rounds, MMA, and if you win, I'll never come to a party while you're here again."

He crossed his arms over his chest, "fine but no tapping out, until we're pulled apart, it doesn't stop."

You stuck your hand out, "done."

Jax was shifting from foot to foot, "what is she thinking?"

Billy smiled, "she's thinking she wants to beat a man to death tonight. This has happened before and she almost killed him. It's going to end every bad for him." You walked up to them, having dressed in clothes from your car and gotten tap and MMA gloves from your trunk and handed the tap to Billy.

"Please don't kill him, it would be bad for business."

You smiled, "I'm not going to kill him, I can't say if he'll ever ride again when I'm done with him." With the tapping done and your gloves on, you stepped into the ring.

Bobby came between you two, "now, you've agreed among yourselves the rules. But we don't want any problems so no cheap shots." Put placed your glove out for him to touch but he ignored it. Billy leaned in with a sadist smile on his face and it started.

The man didn't stand a chance, after one well placed hit to his jaw he was stunned and couldn't recover. They watched on as he took hit after hit after hit. His face was soon bloody, and he could bearly stand up.

"Are you thinking this is hot or scary?"

Jax couldn't take his eyes off you, "both. Oh fuck." He shrank into his skin when you placed a well aimed kick to the man's knees, the crack noise filling the air and the man hit the mat. You were on top of him within seconds, shoving his hand away from you while you pummeled his face.

Jax noticed you were holding the man's head off the canvas by his hair and he can recall when Sam told him that most of the damage from punching someone came from hitting them against a hard surface. You were pulled off him spitting mad when he went limp, Billy and Jax jumping in when Bobby was struggling to keep you back.

"I'm not fucking finished."

Jax held you tighter, "yes you are. It's done, look at him." He was still motionless on the mat, you shrugged Jax off you and walked up the Armando who was watching with Clay.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

He put his hands in the air, "no ma'am, he made his bed and now he needs to lay in it. I'm going to have a serious talk with my men about respect. I've always liked you, so do the other guys, I'm sorry this happened."

You nodded, "great, if it does happen again, you'll be the one bleeding on the mat."

You looked at Jax and put a still tapped hand out, "what to help me clean up?"

Jax smirked, "sure Darlin." You took his hand in yours and walked to his old dorm. Before you could blink, Jax was slamming the door and pushing you against it.

"That was so fucking hot, I swear to God, I've never seen something so sexy in my life."

You smiled, "I wanted to kill him, I could have too, if I could have gotten away with it."

Jax had Sam's voice ringing in his head, "it means the death angel."

"I would have let you." He pulled away and looked at your cheek, "you ok?"

You nodded, "I'm fine, it won't even bruise."

He took your hands in his and unwrapped them. "Now that that's taken care of."

Your back was against the door as he leaned in to kiss you, it was firm and you could feel his teeth meet your lower lip. "You want this?"

You nipped his lip, "yep, nothing better than sex after vanquishing a foe."

Jax smiled and ripped your top off, then yanked your pants down your legs for you to kick them off. He shoved you against the door again, then pulled you away and pushed you into the bed.

He was on top of you within seconds, smirking down at you like he was going to unhinge his jaw and eat you. "I can't believe you're mine. I am the luckiest man in the world."

He kissed you like you had the last breath on the planet in your lungs. Then he was pulling his own clothes off while you ran your hands over his firm torso. "See something you like?"

You bit your lower lip, "every fucking day." He yanked you to the edge of the end and dropped to his knees, lifting you towards him as he buried his face into your core.

"You taste like heaven."

You pushed his face towards you, "less talking more action." You felt him smile against you as his tongue darted out to lick your clit. His beard was scratching your skin as he slid two of his thick fingers inside you, "oh my God, more please." Jax chuckled and sucked your clit into his mouth, his other hand gripping your leg firmly enough for you to bruise.

"Jax, I'm close." He doubled down, adding a third finger before crooking them and rubbing your G-spot. "Ah fuck." You clenched around him as Jax used his forearm to stop your hips from bucking, Jax pulled away before the orgasm ended, making your groan in frustration.

"You're being a dick." He smirked and wiped his face with his hand, spreading your legs as wide as he could before stepping between them and lining himself up with your entrance.

"Please." Jax nodded and slid inside you in one hard thrust, setting a rough pace that made you hold onto the sheets so you weren't shoved up the bed

"Tell me you mine."

You smiled and ran a hand up his chest and to his face, Jax leaning down to kiss you, "I'm yours."

Jax grunted against your lips as his hips slammed into yours, "I love you so much."

His hand went to rub your clit while he lifted your lower half off the bed with the other. "I love you too." Jax grunted again, his knees shaking a little.

"Jax please." He smirked and rubbed your clit faster as you squeezed around him, then he was pulsing inside you and falling onto your chest. "That was amazing, but I need a shower."

He laughed and took a deep breath against your skin, "really? I think you smell amazing." You shook your head.

"I stink and I'm pretty sure I have blood on me."

He smiled again, holding you tight so you couldn't get up, "Jackson, let me go or I will bite you."

Jax shook his head, "you say that like it's a bad thing."

You laughed and nipped his shoulder, "will you let me up if I let you join me?" He smirked, "of course Darlin, I was waiting for you to ask."

You shook your head, "you're insufferable."

****

After your shower, Jax drove you home and now you were sitting in bed in his lap while he ran his fingers over your bruised knuckles. "I'm really sorry that happened to you, I should have stepped in long before it got violent." You lifted his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to his fingers.

"My brave knight, I wasn't going to let you and neither was Billy. I can handle myself."

He huffed, "I can see that, I don't think that guy's ever going to think about you again, let alone try and talk to you."

You turned over in his arms and buried your face in his chest, "I love you so much Jackson, I hope you know that."

He gave an affirmative grunt, "I know, I love you too."

You kissed him softly and you felt something prod at your tight, "really Jax, I'm not that hot."

Jax smiled and nuzzled his nose along yours, "bullshit, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He rolled on top of you and sucked on your neck while his hand moved down your body, just before it could slide into your pants, someone knocked on the door.

"You guys decent?"

It was Sam, "morally or am I currently in the middle of something? No to the first one, yes to the second."

He groaned behind the door, "you guys need to see this."

Jax climbed off of you and opened the door, Sam showing him a Fax.

"Jacob Hale, witness protection application."

Jax took the paper from Sam's hand, "what the fuck is this."

Sam shrugged, "looks like he turned on someone, David will be here tomorrow to talk to everyone about it."

You shook your head, "the bad guy never gets what he deserves, does he?"

Jax smiled sadly, "I'll fix this, I promise."

Part 38

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ruewrites · 1 year

Text

Kinktober 2022 Day 18: Video Call

AO3

Ship: Asmodeus/Solomon

Word Count: 1179

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I am incredibly happy with how this one came out. I hope you all enjoy a little more Solodeus! I know I love writing it!

Comments are appreciated!

“I miss yoooou.”

Asmo purred. Solomon’s laugh crackled across the call. His reception wasn’t the greatest, but it was enough for Asmo. The demon was propping himself up on a pillow and wearing a sheer pink nighty. It was planned of course, and he was more than happy that Solomon could get enough of a signal to have his video working.

“I miss you too, but it’s only a few more days and then I’ll be done.”

“And I’m not allowed to be beckoned to you?” Asmo could feel the pout forming on his lips. Normally Solomon wouldn’t say no to him, it was rare. But this time-

“I’m sorry Asmo,” Solomon sighed, the screen shifted for a moment as he readjusted, and then that handsome face of his reappeared on the screen, “One of the rules of the retreat is that none of us are allowed to have supernatural companions. They made us swear at the beginning.”

“And you can’t bend the rules just a teensy bit?”

Solomon couldn’t help but crack a smile, “Not even a teensy bit love.You know I’m already quite infamous in my own right, so I have to try extra hard to keep the peace.”

“Peace feels an awful lot like a cold and lonely bed,” Asmodeus’ crackled pout from the other end tugged at Solomon’s heart. Asmodeus always made it hard for Solomon to say no, not that he ever really wanted to deny Asmodeus in the first place. “Are you sure I couldn’t slip into your bed just for a little bit? For the night? I promise I’ll behave. It’s cold.”

“Maybe you should put warmer clothes on then.”

“Are you complaining?”

Solomon grinned and angled his phone downward to the obvious start of a forming tent in his pants, “Not in the slightest.”

Asmo whined, and both of his feet dropped to kick at the mattress in a mini temper tantrum, “You’re going to touch yourself without me? Unfair!”

“Now didn’t you go through all that work to seduce me? And you’re not satisfied knowing that I’ll be thinking of you later?”

“I was hoping that I might have been able to be there with you.”

That was when the idea struck Solomon. He moved his position slightly and changed the position of his phone slightly so that he could get as much of his body in the shot as possible.

"Who said you had to leave for the fun part?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, and then a little giggle, "Oh Solomon you naughty naughty man."

"I'm naughty?" Solomon asked, undoing his pants, "I'm not the one who decided to put on lingerie that I know my partner loves seeing me in in hopes of being summoned even if it meant getting him to break the rules."

"I just wanted to test your resolve a little, is all."

Solomon could see those eyes locked onto him, enjoying every second of the show he was putting on, in a bit hopefully he'd be able to ask for a little something in return. Asmo's nighty had fallen off his shoulder slightly, reminding Solomon of how many of their tender moments started.

Coy smiles.

Suggestive looks.

A little slip of clothing.

Then a kiss, the touch of hands on flesh, and two bodies becoming one.

The thoughts alone had Solomon touching himself before he even knew what he was doing. His breath hitched, imagining those wonderfully warm, wonderfully soft hands touching him instead.

"You make the cutest noises." He swore he could feel Asmo's breath on his neck, "You make such a pretty view baby, it's torture not being there."

"I want to touch you."

He wanted to kiss Asmo's neck and leave his own marks, to draw his own little noises out of his pretty mouth. He wanted to be in between his legs no matter what form he took. After all, in every form Asmodeus was his, and his Asmodeus was beautiful. He loved when those soft thighs squished his head and when his nails scratched against his head when he gripped his hair. Of course sex with Asmodeus was addictive, but it was mostly because Solomon got to be with him.

His thighs twitched. The pleasure was taking hold of his nerves, threatening to spill over. He dared a look at his phone screen. Asmo's hand was between his own legs, the movement was controlled and subtle. He cocked his head to the side and smiled at him amidst the pleasure, "Want something darling?"

Solomon felt his pace quicken as his hips thrust up into his hand.

"You," he breathed, "I want to see more of you."

"That soon? Well you would have been able to touch me more if I were there with you."

Solomon whined.

But Asmo loved it when he got whiny.

"Don't worry, you'll be getting plenty of pictures of me later tonight," he promised, "I do hope you have some self control, I wouldn't want a funny walk to give you away in the morning."

He could only imagine what pictures Asmo had in mind. His demon had plenty of toys to choose from. In any case, he would most likely choose whatever he thought would leave Solomon a squirming mess. He would want to have him begging to see him. Asmodeus would be surprised if Solomon wasn't on him the second they were reunited and alone.

Solomon knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He was enamored with his partner, every line his eyes traced set Solomon ablaze. It was almost too much to handle, and the way Asmodeus was staring-

“Solomon,” Asmo gasped, “Cum for me.”

His other strap fell, and that did it for Solomon. With a groan he jolted upwards and came. He stroked himself through his orgasm, and fell back onto the pillow below him.

“Heyyyy! Don’t just leave me here!”

Solomon picked up his phone once more and smiled as he met Asmo’s eyes once more.

“Now I normally love looking at your abs, but I would like to see you before I say goodbye,” Asmo purred.

“I love you Asmodeus.”

“I love you too, now every time you finish I want a picture.”

“Wha-”

Before Solomon had the chance to ask Asmo what he met, the phone was hung up. He was just about to place his D.D.D on the counter when a notification went off.

“Mercy.” His words came out breathy as soon as he laid eyes on the image Asmodeus sent him. Well, his demon was certainly making use of his toys tonight, and the night was far from over. Solomon would have to return a few images of his own. He chuckled, tilting his head back and stroking himself back to hardness as he stared at his partner’s pictures. More photos made their way to him and he was enjoying each image that made its way to him. He had know idea what he had done to deserve Asmodeus, but oh did he love him.

#ruewrites #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #solodeus #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon

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purplegori · 1 year

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Intruding on your asks because I can't @ people in replies and have it work

No I get what the individual stories are about on their own, what continues to baffle me is that the film/stories are presented as a connected plot centred around there being Something Wrong With The House

in the trailer and description and stuff it heavily implied that it would be similar to other stories told by showing a couple of generations of occupants experiencing the same haunting years apart

I just think that they didn't convey what they wanted to very well with the house thing, cause in the first story it seemed to be materialism and making deals with the devil

The second one was fairly similar,

And then the third one was clinging to what little you had when everything else seems out of control,

Not mention the fact that the first story has humans but the second two were animals, which lead to a weird disconnect between the stories and a break in immersion while I tried to bring them back together

Idk, sorry for ranting in Ur inbox lol I completely forgot about that film until you commented, just had a bunch of wild rambling thoughts

(also dw about it being a year old, this is Tumblr, we drag posts from 2012 around here)

that's valid! and sorry this is a bit delayed i literally saw this just now, oops. unfortunately i have no comments on the trailer and description— i watched this completely blind one night only knowing it was psychological horror (?) and stop-motion. there definitely is a dissonance between each story, which COULD be unintentional considering that this movie had three directors! personally though, the dissonance carries meaning, and i'll get back to that.

the concept of the house being the thing that's wrong is true! but to me, the house having Something Wrong With It draws to the fact that it's more of a physical representation of each story's struggle, in multiple ways. notice how it's never actually the house making problems — only how characters interact with it

in the first short, raymond and penny idealize owning a new, fancy home. van schoonbeek holds their materialism over them by promising them a happier life— one only obtained through lush fabrics and decorated fireplaces. it's not the house itself, it's the idea that richer things mean richer lives. the only ones who notice the house's dubiousness are the children, who suffer the consequences of their parents' greed.

in the second short, mr. rat wants to sell a house he's been pouring his sweat and time and money into; he renovates out of his own pocket, he invests in dolling it up and making it look nice. but he only looks at it all from a surface level, hence the bug infestation— cheap solutions will do that to a man. he didn't think of it as a house, he thought of it as a goal with the intention of reaching perfection: something utterly buyable. obviously, ignoring all these problems lead to a massive infestation of rot

in the last short, rosa tries to make the house something it's not despite the circumstances around her. she wants a nice home, and that requires money, which requires tenants. she holds her wish to her heart, in spite of the flooding clearly being a bigger issue. she actively IGNORES the flooding, marking it as less of a problem than the peeling walls and the missing floorboards. she only let's it go when she realizes she CAN leave— she doesn't have to abandon her home to find new places, she needed to change her idea of what home IS to her. she didn't have control over a lot of things, but she could finally live with the house she'd been fighting against. realizing she might not have needed a house, but a ship: she moves on with the help of the people around her.

each story revolves around a house, but the focus isn't the house's effects on it's tenants— it's how each tenant chooses to live in it. there's dissonance because these are all different kinds of people, being stressed by different species being used, different eras, and different settings.

there really are lots of things i intentionally missed touching up on— the third story's ending possibly being a metaphor for death, the second story possibly being a whole delusion. i choose to do this because, well, they're all different interpretations. i spoke about the ones that i made on my own and that make the most sense to me, but those other perspectives are entirely possible and valid. they don't take away from the idea of the house being a manifestation of each character's struggle/flaw either!

in the end, The House is about our relationship with homes. it's about how our living spaces change us, represent us, but more importantly: how it reflects our ideals. in the pursuit of a perfect home, an ideal house, we lose ourselves in logistics and materialism— we lose the spirit of home. it's a problem that crosses boundaries and leaves no person untouched. everyone can experience it, everyone handles it differently. but in the end, the last tenant of the house puts to rest the cycle we've seen progress throughout the film. she finds home in her friends instead of constantly pursuing a house where she PLANS to make memories in. in a way, they DID all experience the same haunting. the haunting was... an empty, hollow life with even more hollowed ideals.

"and heard within, a lie is spun

then lost is truth that can't be won

listen again and seek the sun"

that's all what i think though! would love to hear any other thoughts you have too. that's all! have a good one :)

#the house netflix #netflix the house #the house 2020 #THANKS FOR THE ASK I HAD A LOT OF FUN THOUGHT DUMPING LOL

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nought-shall-go-ill · 2 years

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Writer ask game - 1, 6, and 32

Sorry for taking so long to reply to this, wonderful @hpeveryonelives! I’ve actually started a Tumblr hiatus, but I wanted to quickly answer before I good and proper delete the app. Thank you so much for asking though! They were so fun to answer.

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

I started reading fics as a wee bairn in around 2005. I started writing fanfic not long after that (2006 maybe?), but the first fic that I ever published publicly was made in mid-2007. I was then really into fanfic for about 2 years before taking a 12-year or so hiatus and returning last year.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I go through stages! When I first returned to fanfic I was aware that the world had changed a lot since my days on MNFF and HPFF, so I just searched online for recommendations. I then found a lot through Reddit, though I quickly became disillusioned with that, and then I became fully committed to Ao3, so I would just search through the tags/filters/ships on there.

These days, however, I am quite a bit busier, so I rely mostly on Tumblr (after creating my page) and Discord. I am aware this makes me miss a lot of smaller fic writers though, so I am hoping to rectify this (and return to my Ao3 strategy) when life calms down a little.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

This is a hard one, as I can be super critical of individual sentences after the fact, but here are a few from some recently published fics that I don’t entirely hate:

① Until the Tree Dies, Chapter 2:

The second rumour limped in on a Tuesday morning and haunted the castle for the rest of the day.

I like it because I think it encapsulates the combined disgust and ever so slight fear of Remus I imagine Snape having just several years after the prank.

② The Other Half of the Sky, Chapter 1:

Yet just as from time to time she saw the most exceptional sights in the rundown areas of this otherwise quaint coastal town, she often wondered if exceptional things might be possible from her very own brand of filth.

I’m not 100% satisfied with the composition of this sentence, but I do so very much love the meaning behind it for my protagonist. I think it embodies a lot of what her journey will be.

③ The Other Half of the Sky, Chapter 2:

Emmeline had the sort of handshake that made Lily think she would be rather good with horses.

This is nothing special, but it made me chuckle when writing because I felt people would just know what Emmeline was like from that one sentence. And I was right! @mabeltothknows commented pretty much saying exactly that.

Thank you so much again, lovely!

#fic writer asks #asks #still on my tumblr break but wanted to answer these asks before I do the big app delete

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bean-face · 1 month

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i feel terrible for the tf2 community

think about how much easier it would be to handle the topic of "ms. pauling might be a lesbian" if they allowed themselves to use the proper grammar for the subject

it's ship. they ship ms. pauling and scout, that's what it is.

and there's nothing wrong with that, there's a precedent for it in canon, but it's still a ship.

and the absolute refusal to ever even acknowledge that someone might not agree with that, that anyone could dare to imagine a world where ms. pauling wants to kiss a girl instead, is met with instant destruction, is nothing short of tragic.

Image ID: "You know what I hate? People changing characters'sexuality irl or not. Take miss Pauling for example, just because it was mentioned once as a joke that was later removed by one of the writers, doesn't mean that she is a lesbian So instead of trying to make Miss Pauling gay, how about you just keep that in your head, okay? Okay."

this comment is kinda funny because first it makes the ultimate hard stance based off nothing evidence that ms. pauling is straight, because as we all know very well, straightness is the default state of humanity, and characters must pass a long test with 100% accuracy if people are to see them as gay ever. and then makes the second most ultimate hard stance, that anybody who doesn't agree with that should keep it to themselves, because imagining a character as gay when no solid alternative has been offered, is morally reprehensible, and should stay locked away forever. (as an aside, even if the characters are confirmed to be knocking down straight sex sloppy style and loving it, having a gay headcanon is not a moral failing, sharing this gay headcanon is not a moral failing, and someone not wanting to see it is not reasonable action for them to tell you to never share it, but that didn't seem relevant to the point at hand)

to me this is just obviously homophobia, like, they haven't outright stated "i don't like when all my characters are straight and then someone sees one of them as gay", but that's what it means, because that's what they're saying it in context of, similar to the "why can't they just be friends, why does everything have to be romantic" crowd only showing up to protest people shipping two same-sex characters.

i didn't really have a point with any of this besides the obvious of homophobia sucks and is everywhere and for a lot of people who aren't very familiar with this sorta stuff, is very easy to miss.

everybody who follows me probably already knows this, so sorry if i made your day worse by reminding you of it

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streaming-yn · 3 years

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Hi, its Grim anon! I was wondering if I could request a platonic bench trio with y/n (she/her) who is very open about her affection for the three (constantly complimenting them, saying ily, etc.), but lately she's been worried that people will take it the wrong way so she's stopped? And now they're like. Where's my Y/N validation? :(

yep yep!! here you go, grim anon! ^^ sorry if I got a bit off track? I'm not sure if I did or not!

platonic!BenchTrio x affectionate!y/n

pronouns: she/her

other information on the reader:

. minor

. very open with her affection

. minecraft streamer

. faceless streamer

. it's against her boundaries for anyone other than friends to use her real name

warnings: sexism/misogyny (ends well, the haters are addressed), idk but the "girl near streamer I like? ew wtf 😒" type of hate (also gets addressed n shut down), little angst, distancing yourself from friends, trying to change yourself, cussing, mention of "weird comments" made towards y/n *ALL OF THESE ISSUES ARE ADDRESSED AND SHUT DOWN THOUGH !!!

form: headcanons

summary: y/n is super openly affectionate with all of her friends! unfortunately, a lot of people think that's a negative thing, though Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo notice y/n's change and get to the bottom of it to fix the issue ^^

genre: platonic, little angst, fluff(?) after it gets found out, hurt to comfort type of deal ^^

abbreviations: s/n -> streamer name, y/n -> your name

note: I'm not very good at angst yet so I'm sorry if it kinda sucks !! :(

you were very in touch with your loving side and showed all your friends affection very openly and however you could

unfortunately, since y'all didn't live near each other that meant that you had to wait for visits for like hugs n stuff :(

at first you didn't think much of it, affection was a normal thing between friends, why do it differently on stream?

you would often tell the boys how much you loved them and we're genuinely happy and grateful that y'all were friends

complements and validation paired with this, naturally

the boys looked forward to streams with you, not only because you where best friends but for the serotonin that your affection brought :D

actually!! on streams with all of you together, it wouldn't be uncommon for tommy, tubbo, and ranboo to playfully fight over your affection

it would be in different ways though, like with Tommy, you would complement either ranboo or tubbo and if you didn't state a name tommy would be like "THAT WAS MENT FOR ME, (TUBBO/RANBOO)" after they thanked you

meanwhile tubbo would either go on about betrayal and how you didn't love him anymore and he's going to run away or he would do something along the lines of ":(( what about meee"

and ranboo, if the compliment wasn't aimed at him, even if you clearly added tommy or tubbo's name at the end, would always reply "thank you" or something similar

however it's different if the compliment is directed at them!

ranboo would thank you, do a small laugh that's half flustered half awkward, and then complement you back (he got less awkward and flustered as he got more used to it though!)

you could hear the smile in tubbo's voice as he loudly thanks you and gives you like 3 compliments in return

tommy, it would depend if either of y'all are streaming or not! yes? "I know" all jokingly cocky like. no? "thank you, I guess" he says it as a half joke, it's a genuine thank you, but he likes keeping it playful so the "I guess" is thrown on, it's random if he gives you a complement back or not, it's literally not even dependant on how he feels, it just at random

also I feel like you and Tommy would have like a "ily!! /p" "ew /j" bit, very often I will add 👍

like while your streaming you like "tommy!! I love you, thank you for being my friend :)" and him, completely disregarding the last bit, would reply "EWW, Y/N YOU DO KNOW IM I MINOR CORRECT??"

if him ever saying ew hurts your feelings then he won't say it, however he will say the rest, unless him deflecting your "ily" makes you feel bad as well, it's fairly easy to crack him to say it back since you're best friends

a lot of back and forth, but not too hard since he never wants to genuinely hurt you

ALSO if you complement him (on stream ofc) he will find a way to turn it around, not onto you, but just turning into something too tame to be labeled and insult but definitely something close!

"I like your sunglasses!!" "oH??? SO YOU DONT LIKE MY EYES??? THANKS S/N"

(also feel like tubbo might do this)

ofc would stop if it makes you sad/uncomfortable/etc

with ranboo though, he might occasionally do that, but it's way more often for you two to get into complementing matches (just going back and forth with complements)

you also sometimes do the "ily more" thing, just because it's funny bc it's like a cringe romance movie thing, y'all never do it on stream though because ppl might make it weird, and some friend quirks are better kept private anyway, just a you two thing :)

occasionally the "no you hang up first" too, except you both play they teen girl waving her hand and saying it the most high pitched voice she can. it's so funny hearing ranboo going so high 💀💀

as a rising streamer, of course you have Twitter, and your subtwt isn't toxic – due to your personality and stuff, the people you attract to your content are all pretty loving and chill! ofc there's a few bad eggs, but that's just what happens, you choose to ignore those few

but since you've gotten more popular, people finding you through your more popular friends, you've seen a rise of tweets mentioning you, whether it be in general or in the boy's replies

you're glad to be getting more popular, now you can find more people who seek comfort from your content, which was your goal when you started anyway! so it's all exciting! ..at first.

rise in people means rise of people in the toxic 1%, and also means rise of haters or people who just don't like you

sometimes you come across tweets like "why does y/n feel the need to be around ranboo, tubbo, and tommy? leave them alone ffs, she got her fame she wanted, she can leave now 🙄✋" and "we get it, girl streamers are less talented so you needed to leech off they boys' talent! like is she done yet or??" or occasional tweets saying something about shipping – which is against not only your boundaries but all of they boys' as well.

the replies being full of "use s/n, using her real name is breaking her boundaries! and if you have an issue, then don't watch the streams she's in, dickhead!", "you could just mute her name on here and not follow her twitch, you're being overdramatic for no reason", "hey hey, remember that s/n checks her indirects", "ew, deactivate", "aw, are you scared bc a girl is better than you at gaming? aw you gonna cry??", etc, makes you feel a bit better, but the punch from the original tweet lingers

after seeing a bit more, you saw the majority of the haters – and weird people – you saw the root of it was probably because you were so affectionate towards you friends and just being around them in general

so, it'd be best to stop, right? don't participate in as many streams, stop being so affectionate in general, to be honest you were already quite anxious that you being so "clingy" was annoying, the hate just solidified it

so you have a plan in line, the hard part is executing it :(

to start, you stopped complimenting them as much on stream, and the late phone calls lessened, and those became more and more noticeable before you "got too busy" to be in as many streams as you used to

I feel like ranboo would notice first and try talking to you before bringing it up to tommy and tubbo, but when you replied "oh! yeah I'm good dw :)" he knew it was a lie and went to the others

"what do you think is going on?" "I'm not sure" "whatever it is, do you think this is why she stopped being so affectionate? I miss it"

then it clicked for tommy while ranboo and tubbo still tried to figure it out

"do you think it's family problems?" "no, last time they has family problems they became more clingy and their phone calls were more frequent, not-" "wait wait wait"

tommy checked your social media platforms, of course they had more followers than before

"what? tommy?" "I think it's more of an online hate problem" tommy leaned back in his chair, running his hands over his face before looking over at the discord call as the two others made sounds of shock, "yeah, this started after her platform got bigger and she got more well known" "..you're right" "how- how do we fix it?" "address it on a stream?" "no, no, not yet, I think we should contact y/n first, see if she'll tell us if we're right or not" "I could try? last time I texted her she responded pretty quickly so maybe that still applies?" "yeah, tell us if we're right or not and we'll continue from there"

so ranboo texted you, making sure to form the text to get to the point but not scare you, he knows how anxiety inducing confrontation, especially from friends, can be for you

you didn't know exactly how to respond, would it be better if you lied? or would the truth be better?

after a few times of the "..." appearing and disappearing on ranboo's screen before you message of ",, yeah, that is the reason actually ;; I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I thought it'd be better to just distance myself :(" sent through

the boys on call could hear the frown in ranboo's voice when he sighed and said "oh" "were we right?" "just a second"

ranboo replied to you, reassuring you that you don't don't have to apologize for not telling them and it isn't your fault, making sure to remind you that you can come to either him, tommy, or tubbo whenever you want

"yeah, she got hate, and I guarantee that if we go through her indirects then we'll see what exactly happened, we may have to scroll a bit though" so they searched around on Twitter and found some, then tubbo spoke "do you think she would want to join call so we can figure out what to do to fix this?" "I can text her, though maybe we can more of distract and comfort her tonight? we can talk about the hate and stuff another time" "yeah yeah, I think that's a good idea"

so he texted you to see if you'd like to join the call, you accepted and ended up playing video games with them – mainly Minecraft servers – for a few hours before tommy had you and ranboo (assuming you're in the US or close) sign off to get some sleep (if you're in the UK or close, he had you and tubbo sign off and then signed off himself for some sleep)

the next day you guys hopped back on call to discuss how you guys would fix it, as well as them giving a bunch of positive comments about your affection :)

you guys decided on a serious stream from Tommy's account, it was either tommy or ranboo's account, but you guys chose tommy bc he's not anxious about turning off donos and other things

you guys discussed that the hate you were getting was uncalled for, and the weird comments were to be stopped immediately.

"I think that's everything? y/n, anything else?" "yeah I think that's about it, thank you guys so much!!" "alright, one more thing before we go- chat- chat, if you have an issue with y/n being in our streams just don't watch our streams! if you don't like y/n we don't want you here" "tommyyyy :(( (/pos)" "wait wait!! chat, if anyone asks or is being rude either spread clips on the stream or screenshots of the tweets we posted!! we want to make sure that everyone – even those not watching the stream – are informed!" "alright, bye chat, I better not see any more y/n negativity!!"

there wasn't negativity in chat when you went to check btw :)! it was in emote-only bc they thought it'd be the best thing to do and most of the chat was filled with hearts and other positive emotes! <33

now whenever hate stuff it posted the replies have screenshots of either tommy, tubbo, or ranboo's tweets, links to the VOD, or clips, stating the most important and the tweet is usually taken down within a matter of hours – days sometimes

and after that everything was back to normal!! you started complimenting them again, telling them how much you love them again, etc etc! you even got back into late calls :)

2K notes · View notes

slothgiirl · 3 years

Text

the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet.

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship.

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war.

It was what you kept telling yourself.

You would.

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath.

And spot the Red Paladin.

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him.

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle.

You don’t even think.

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance.

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough.

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin.

But he doesn’t pull away or argue.

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure.

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy.

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?”

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number.

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.”

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.”

You laugh.

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill.

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away.

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen.

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die.

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination.

You didn’t understand why.

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished.

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely.

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars.

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes.

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step.

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was.

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith.

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.”

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you.

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers.

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive.

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered.

You meet his gaze head on.

“I might need some help,” he allows.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing.

War made quick brothers out of everyone.

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.”

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features.

You follow his lead.

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space.

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters.

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true.

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,�� you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.”

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana.

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.”

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly.

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science.

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak.

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks.

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining.

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him.

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy.

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities.

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason.

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself.

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging.

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these.

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you.

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls.

“It’s true,” he says simply.

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here.

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe.

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease.

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in.

It was an unprecedented reaction.

He must feel it too.

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun.

You shift your weight from one foot to another.

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away.

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers.

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave.

He says nothing.

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors.

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone.

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job.

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing.

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl.

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away.

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip.

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest.

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew.

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity.

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours.

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room.

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates.

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel.

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you?

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far.

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers.

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you.

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint.

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt.

In the hall.

Where anyone could see.

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome.

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip.

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you.

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards.

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires.

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy.

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed.

You want more.

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket.

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron.

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge.

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off.

He’s watching.

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well.

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer.

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter.

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat.

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours.

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected.

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out.

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans.

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers.

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in.

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his.

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin.

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.”

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it.

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you.

Keith aquieses.

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you.

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out.

“God, yes,” you utter dazed.

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour.

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down.

You come.

Leaving you boneless.

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out.

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you.

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands.

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds.

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure.

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room.

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth.

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame.

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed.

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you.

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess.

“Right there, right there,” you utter.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax.

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks.

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up.

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life.

You got what people meant about the right partner.

The right sexual energy to match.

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you.

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed.

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in.

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of.

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you.

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed.

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself.

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you.

You wanted to lay there with him.

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway.

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt.

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows.

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow.

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours.

He closes his eyes.

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly.

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.”

So he could joke.

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met.

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring.

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side.

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours.

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed.

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out.

So you say nothing.

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled.

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up.

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing.

You close your eyes.

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check.

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods.

You exhale.

There’s no way to mark the passage of time.

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you.

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely.

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft.

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you.

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you.

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling.

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back.

You give in, sinking down onto his cock.

He moans your name, shutting his eyes.

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat.

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you-

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise.

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh.

Your stomach was taunt.

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly.

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat.

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think.

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out.

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped.

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away.

You falter. Had you read things wrong?

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…”

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform.

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there.

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it.

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears.

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come.

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically.

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely.

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .”

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted.

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take.

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk.

Getting up the next morning is hell.

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages.

Nothing from earth.

That was expected.

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel.

You shower.

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being.

Come was gross.

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens.

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again.

No.

Not going there.

No space weirdness this morning.

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space.

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut.

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked.

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring.

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way.

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish.

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away.

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit.

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful.

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now.

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap.

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon.

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

You connect the dots.

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra.

Only that made no sense.

He was from Earth.

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra?

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days.

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud.

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels.

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks.

Still, it was your assignment.

“It is vital.”

They always said that.

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space.

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.”

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours.

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze.

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it.

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet.

It was intriguing.

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor.

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters.

Keith is pacing outside your door.

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him.

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off.

Your heart ached.

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all.

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first.

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness?

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect.

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge.

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought.

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning.

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all.

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants.

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things.

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony.

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.”

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips.

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb.

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips.

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more.

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #keith kogane imagine #mine #smut #surprisingly soft for being esentially a take on the whole galra heat thing in fanon #part 2 will b just sex lol #feedback much appreciated (as a motivator too)

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