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1-800-gaygentsofshield · 3 years

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you + me = ? | n.r.

summary: after the war you and Natasha settle down, deciding to start a family in your cozy little home. The problem is though, how many times can hope be ignited before it fully burns out?

warnings: (trying to get pregnant) reader, canon/sterile Nat, swearing, Nat and you cry, post-endgame, sprinkle of angst with a very fluffy ending

word count: 4,016

im having baby fever rn im so sorry

-flashback, pre-endgame-

"I wanna have a family." Your voice is barely above a whisper as you both look up at the night sky, laying in the garden atop the Avengers compound. "What?" Nat asks softly, breaking out of her trance as she looks at you. You're laying on her chest and her arm is wrapped your back, Nat's other arm folded up behind her head.

"I wanna have a family, with you." You repeat yourself, making eye contact with your girlfriend as her brows furrow. "Y/n.." Nat's voice is hesitant and panic floods your chest, your eyes widening as you move to sit up. "Oh my god I'm so sorry, that was so quick-" You apologize quickly as you avoid Natasha's gaze, the redhead sitting up with you.

You've dated Natasha for two years but everything has been slow, knowing how the assassin will close herself off if you try and move too fast (emotion wise).

"Hey Y/n no." Nat says softly as she looks at your side profile, a soft frown forming on her face as she sees you. "That's not the reason why." She says as she gently turns your head to face her, fingertips delicately grabbing your chin. "I do want to have a family with you, moya lyubov'..it's just that I can't." Nat whispers and you finally lock eyes with her, seeing the pain and sadness on her face. "What do you mean?' You ask carefully and she sighs, waiting a beat before deciding to tell you. "In the Red Room me and all of my other group mates were sterilized..it was like a sick graduation ceremony that prevented us from having a family of our own." She tells you and hurt immediately grips at your heart, seeing Nat avert her gaze for a moment.

"Why?" You question and she purses her lips together, one of your hands rubbing her knee gently. "So we would never have any distraction from our mission..so that our only purpose in life was to kill and be used as a weapon." Disgust drips from Nat's voice at the last part, your soft hands on her wrist bringing her back to reality. "Im so sorry Nat, I shouldn't have anything I didn't know-" You start to apologize again but Nat stops you with a soft shake of her head, a bittersweet smile on her face. "Don't apologize, Y/n. I'm the one who should be sorry for not being able to give you the family that you deserve." She says and now it's your turn to shake your head, grabbing Nat's hands and caressing them gently. "Its alright baby." You smile gently before an idea pops into your head, your eyes lighting up and Nat gives you a look of curiosity.

"Besides.." You start, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "If you really..truly..wanted a family with me, there could still be other options. Like adopting or getting a surrogate..or I could get pregnant instead." You suggest and Natasha's eyes light up like the stars in the night sky, a small laugh escaping your lips as you see the excitement on her face.

"Really?! You'd do that?" She asks and you nod your head, giving your girlfriend a soft kiss before laughing. "Mmhm, but you'd have to put a ring on it first, Miss Romanoff." You giggle and Nat wraps her arms around you again, both of you laying back down on the blanket. "Im planning to, future Mrs.Romanoff."

-present day, post-endgame-

You nervously pace around the bathroom as you wait for the three minutes to be up, Natasha sitting on the edge of the bathtub and observing you walk back and forth. The pregnancy test is laying by the sink and you can’t help but glance at it every few seconds, not having felt this nervous since battling Thanos and his army. You’ve faced gods, powerful Titans, super soldiers, but you’re sure this the most nerve wracking thing you’ve ever had to do. Once the timer on Natasha’s phone goes off, you practically jump towards the sink, Natasha leaning forward a bit more on the bathtub. Picking up the white and pink pregnancy test, you nervously turn it over in your hands, eyes scanning the small window for the results.

Natasha doesn’t even have to ask for the results when she sees your shoulders slump and your face drop, quickly getting up from the bathtub to wrap you up in her arms. Hugging you from behind, she can see the negative test in your hands, gently kissing your cheek when you don’t say anything. “It’s okay baby, we can try again.” She says softly and you shake your head, slowly placing the test down and closing your eyes.

“Nat, what if somethings wrong with me?” You whisper and her arms hug you closer, tears pooling under your eyelids in frustration. “Nothing is wrong with you malysh.” Natasha reassures you and you turn in her arms, releasing a shaky breath as you press your face into her neck. “Three times Nat..three fucking times..” You sigh and she only holds you closer, knowing how much hope the both of you had for this one. “I know, I know.” Nat hums softly as she rocks the two of you back and forth gently, feeling the hope starting to dwindle from you. “What if we just weren’t meant to have a biological children? What if we weren’t meant to have lives after the war?” You question out loud and Natasha pulls back, gently tilting your chin up so you can look her in the eyes. “Hey no, don’t say that. We were meant to have a family Y/n, biological or not.” Nat takes a pause to brush some hair out of your face.

“Let’s try one more time, okay? And if that doesn’t work then we can look into other options.” She continues and you think for a moment, not knowing if you could go through the hope and pain again. “Okay.” You whisper softly and Nat nods her head. “Okay.” She echos you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, pulling you back in for a hug.

————

Nat’s leg is bouncing up and down as she watches the timer tick down, only ten more seconds before you can check. This is the last try, all or nothing. You’re too anxious to pace this time, instead opting to sit next to Natasha and leaning into her as you watch her leg bounce. “You know..whatever happens, I love you.” Nat says softly when she sees you blankly stare at her knee, lost in thought about what’s going to happen. “I love you too.” You reply equally as soft as you look up at your wife, grabbing her hand and intertwining them slowly.

Leaning into each other, you both share a soft kiss, love shining through the small interaction. You both only pull away when the timer dings, Natasha rubbing your back as you sigh and get up. It feels like time slows down as you walk towards the sink, heart pounding in your chest as you reach out to grab the test. The bathroom is silent as you pick it up and flip it over, looking at the little window for the results. You’re silent as you look at the results, body frozen in place as you stare at the test. Natasha’s brows furrow and she gets up, sighing as she rubs her temples.

“Baby I’m so sorry-” “It’s positive.” You interrupt Nat midway through her sentence, your voice in disbelief as you see those two pink lines. “What?” Natasha asks, unsure if she heard you right. “It’s positive.” You repeat as you turn to face her, pregnancy test in hand as you smile from ear to ear. “You’re pregnant?” Natasha asks, almost in disbelief as she stares at you. “I’m pregnant.” You nod your head and Natasha immediately sweeps you up in her arms, hugging you right and picking you up from the ground. “Holy shit! We’re gonna have a baby!” Nat laughs as she spins you around, joyful giggles falling from your lips as you cling onto your wife.

“Oh my god we’re gonna have a baby.” Nat breathes out as she comes to a stop, quickly putting you down once the realization hits her brain. “Shit, you’re pregnant we need to be careful.” She says and you only laugh, pulling her down a bit to kiss her. “You don’t need to be that a careful dummy, but yes..I’m pregnant.”

————

“Tony gave us an iron man onesie.” You laugh as you hold up the tiny piece of clothing, Natasha grinning as she watches you. Even though the announcement was made a week ago, the gifts have been steadily pouring in, Tony insisting that he pays for the majority of the things that are needed for the new arrival.

He paid for the crib, the high chair, the car seat, most of the nursery, and all the bottles and toys a newborn could ask for. Pepper had a huge part in it too, having experience since bringing Morgan into the world. “That man is self centered.” Natasha laughs as she walks over to where you’re sitting, her heart full of love as she kneels down next to you.

“Mmhm.” You hum in agreement as you fold the article of clothing away, Natasha handing you the next gift. You’re about sixteen weeks along and you’re already showing, a small baby bump forming from your midsection. You both decided to wait until the second trimester to tell the rest of the team, wanting to enjoy the first few months in peace.

Natasha watches you wordlessly as you open a gift from Steve, a smile tugging on her lips as she sees the captain america pacifier. “I love you so much.” She blurts out randomly and your head turns to face her, a smile on your face as you gently kiss her.

“You’ve gone soft Romanoff.” You tease and she only laughs, gently kissing you again. “I blame you, you’ve made me domestic.” She grins and you roll your eyes, placing the gift to the side.

————

As the pregnancy goes along, you start to notice Natasha’s lack of touch, the redhead only going as far as running her hands through your hair or holding your shoulders. You have no idea what has gotten into her and you're determined to investigate, missing the way Natasha used to spoon and cuddle you all day.

Your questions were finally answered when one day you and Natasha were watching TV in bed, the redhead's arm slung around your shoulder as you lean into her. When the commercial break finally came on, you turned your head to look at your wife, curiosity written all over your face. "Why don't you cuddle me anymore, Nat?" You ask softly and she looks at you with confusion, lowering down the volume on the TV. "What do you mean? I cuddle you all the time baby." She says and you shake your head, reaching up and gently toying with her hair.

"Ever since I've gotten pregnant you've treated me like I could break at any moment, what are you so afraid of?" You question and Natasha sighs, glancing at her lap for a moment before answering. "With these hands I've done some awful things Y/n..things too horrific to say out loud. I feel like if I touch you or the baby I'll just ruin it, or hurt you..like everything else in my life." Nat confesses softly and your heart melts at how scared your wife is, knowing how much she's struggled with her past and with the red in her ledger. "Natasha Romanoff." You whisper, gently grabbing her hands to put them in between the two of you. "You are the kindest," You start, gently kissing her knuckle. "Most caring." another kiss, "Most selfless" another kiss, "Person I've ever met" another kiss. "And I know, with my whole heart and soul, you would never do anything to hurt me or the baby." You look up at her and gently rub your knuckles over the back of her hands. "So please stop acting like you will. These are the hands that I love, the hands that will raise our child, they're strong and secure, so stop thinking otherwise." You finish as you wordlessly move both your hands towards your belly, gently placing Natasha's hands over the bump.

The redhead is stunned as your hands rest over hers, the baby suddenly kicking. A wide smile spreads across your face as you both look down at your belly, the baby never having kicked before. "That was the first time they've ever kicked." You inform Natasha and you could see her still processing that fact. "That's our baby?" She asks softly and you laugh, nodding your head. "Mmhm, that's our baby. They recognized their mama." You say fondly as the baby kicks again, Natasha's heart bursting with warmth as she looks at you.

Slowly, Natasha moves to lay down on the bed, resting her head right beside your bump and holding it gently. "Hi malen'kiy golub'." She whispers softly, your hand coming down to gently play with her hair. You smile as you watch Natasha gently cuddle with your bump, knowing without a doubt that she's going to be a great mother.

-----

Placing the stuffed animals down on the table, you turn to look at Natasha, a giggle coming from your lips as you walk over to her. "What?" Nat grins as she turns to face you, putting the paintbrush down to the side.

"You're a mess." You laugh as you rub some pastel green paint from her cheek, both of you deciding that the nursery would be painted a light grey with a pastel green accent wall. "I'm still hot though." She teases and you only roll your eyes, cupping her face as you gently kiss her.

"Yeah yeah you're always hot." You laugh and Natasha looks around the room, grinning at the stack of Avenger's themed stuffed animals your team gave you. "They're all trying to be known as the cool uncle aren't they?" She asks softly and you nod your head, knowing that whatever Avenger your child takes after will forever have that bragging right.

"Let them have their fun, they're happy for us." You smile and Nat only sighs, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

-----

You feel like Natasha was more anxious than you when you went into labour, your water breaking in the middle of the night. There wasn't any dramatic screaming or freaking out, you just calmly pushed the sheet back and let out a soft "huh" as you saw the damp bedsheets.

"Oh, okay we're doing this." You say before turning on the light, acting like it was any other day as you gently shake Natasha awake. "Nat, baby wake up." You whisper softly as Natasha stirs, squinting at the light once her eyes opened. "Y/n? What's wrong?" Nat mumbles sleepily as she rubs the sleep from her eyes, seeing you in a sitting up position.

"My water broke." You say and it takes a second for the words to process in Natasha's brain, the redhead suddenly sitting up and fully awake. "What? Okay okay it's happening. It's happening." Nat says as she pushes the sheets off herself, her mind immediately going to all the books she's read over the past nine months. You've already packed your hospital bags a few weeks in advance so you aren't too stressed about it, only needing to change and grab a few extra things. Natasha, on the other hand, is working on full overdrive, pulling on sweatpants and making sure everything is in order.

"Natasha, baby." You say as you gently grab her arm, needing your wife to slow down if you're going to survive the next few days. "You need to calm down my love." You say softly as you hold onto her shoulders, making the redhead look at you and take a few deep breaths. "Okay..okay. I'm sorry. I'm just nervous." Natasha admits and you nod your head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's okay to be nervous Nat, you just need so slow down. We haven't even gotten to the hospital yet." You laugh softly and she nods her head, waiting a few more moments before stepping back slowly. "Okay, let's have a baby."

---

Your head is resting back against Natasha's shoulder as she acts like a backrest to you, allowing you to grip onto her hand when your contractions hit. Nat has been nothing but supportive the entire time, humming reassuring words into your ear as the pain washes over your body.

"Fuck." You whimper once another round of contractions end, Natasha's hand coming up to gently push back the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead. "You're doing amazing baby, I'm so proud of you." She hums and you sigh, closing your eyes as you feel your wife rub your back. It's quiet as you feel Natasha's hands move down to your bump, rubbing your stomach softly as she sighs.

"Come on malen'kiy golub, your mommies are so excited to meet you." Nat coos and you smile into her neck, warmth flooding your chest as you listen to her. "And I know all of your aunties and uncles are excited to meet you too. We're so excited to hug you, and kiss you, and watch you grow." She hums as she rubs small circles on your belly.

"So please come out before your mommy kills me." Both of you laugh and you snuggle more into Natasha's embrace. "You're going to be an amazing mom." You whisper and Nat grins, looking at you with a quirked eyebrow. "Yeah?" She asks and you nod your head. "Yeah..I couldn't have asked for a more amazing wife, best friend, and now..a mother to our daughter." You hum and Nat blushes, kissing you gently.

----

Your eyebrows furrow as you grip onto Natasha’s hand, pain coursing through your body as you deliver the baby. “You’re doing amazing y/n, almost there.” Nat says as you practically crush her hand, hiding the pain in her face as she watches you. "Congratulations, it's a healthy baby girl." The doctor announces as the baby's cries fill the room, your chest heaving as you lay back. Nat cuts the umbilical cord ("I've seen worst in Budapest") and they place the baby on your chest, draping a blanket over the two of you to keep you warm.

"Hi baby." You coo as you hold your child close to your chest, Natasha standing next to you with unshed tears in her eyes. You look up at her and sniffle (you're crying so hard at this point) as you see the look of awe on her face, smiling as you gently reach out to grab her hand. Softly placing her hand atop of the baby's blanketed back, she slowly moves her thumb, the child's cries quieting at both of her mother's touch. Nat is speechless as she watches the tiny newborn cling onto your chest, loving the warmth radiating off of your body.

"She's a boob man, just like her mama." Nat whispers and you laugh, that being the first thing that comes to her mind. Your child's hand slowly comes up and wraps her fingers around Natasha's thumb, that being the breaking point for the tears as they finally fall down her cheek.

----

"Are you gonna hold her or are you just going to stare at me?" You ask as Natasha watches you and Mila sit on the bed, the two of you now alone with your child. Natasha looks hesitant as she walks over to you, never feeling so nervous as you look up at her.

"You aren't going to break her Nat." You say and Nat's eyebrows furrow, seeing the tiny infant look up at her with Y/c/e. The baby took from both you and Natasha, having scarlet red hair from her and beautiful y/c/e from you. "I just don't know..I mean what if I drop her? What if I do something wrong?" Nat worries her bottom lip between her teeth and you only beckon her to come closer, scooting over so she can sit on the hospital bed.

"You won't Nat, I promise." You reassure her and she slowly sits down on the bed, following your instructions as she places her hands out. Gently transferring the baby into her arms, you smile as Mila looks up at her mama, letting out a soft "gah". "See? She loves you already." You hum as you rub Mila's hair gently, seeing the love on Natasha's face. "Hi Mila." Nat breathes out as you rest your head on her shoulder, watching your wife interact with the baby. The tears return to Natasha's eyes as the newborn looks up at her, her emotions going everywhere as she processes that this is her child, her little bundle of joy that she gets the privilege of sharing with you. "Thank you." Nat whispers out as she looks at you, a smile on her face as she sniffles.

"For what?" You question and she only kisses you softly, smile still on her face as she pulls away. "For giving me another reason to live for." She whispers and her statement covers a wide range, thank you for being her wife, thank you for giving her a chance, thank you for her daughter, thank you for giving her the family she's always wanted, just thank you.

----

Mila's cries ring out through your room and pierce your eardrums, rousing you and Nat from your slumber.

"Mm, I've got it." You sleepily mumble out of instinct as you start to get up, now used to getting woken up in the dead of night.

Mila still doesn't have a sleep schedule since she's a newborn so sometime's she'll sleep for a few hours and other times only for ten minutes.

This time around though, you get gently pushed back onto the bed by Natasha, feeling a comforting kiss placed on your temple as your wife gets up. "I've got it, moya lyubov'." She whispers and you don't have enough energy to resist, watching as Nat walks over to the bassinet. "Hi malen'kiy golub, you have a healthy set of lungs don't you?" Nat mumbles sleepily as she pulls the newborn from the crib, cradling the baby to her chest and gently rocking her back and forth. "Yeah I know, it's okay baby. It's okay, mama's got you." She hums as the baby's cries slowly die down, you still sitting on the bed as you watch your wife in awe. "Your mommies need their sleep huh little one, that sounds nice doesn't it." Nat yawns and you cant help but smile.

"But don't worry, every time you wake up we'll be here okay? We'll love you and hug you each time you cry. And I'm gonna protect you, malen'kiy golub. I won't let anything happen to you or your mommy, I promise." Natasha coos as she continues to rock Mila, not noticing how you're wide awake now. It's a soft, quiet vow, spoken in the dead of night, that Natasha will protect her family with everything she has in her..and it makes you fall more in love with her, if that's even possible.

Getting up, you make your way over to your wife, gently placing your hands on her shoulders to notify her of your presence. She knew you were coming as soon as she heard the bedsheets rustle, even in her tired state she was looking out for the two of you. "Hi." Nat greets you softly and you only hum, a tired smile on your face as you rest your head on her shoulder. Your hand comes up and is gently placed on Mila's back, rubbing soft circles on her onesie. Natasha's heart swells as she looks at her small family, smiling when you kiss her cheek. "I love you." You whisper before looking down at your daughter. "And I love you too." You hum, gently kissing her fiery red hair. Nat kisses your temple gently and closes her eyes, finally at peace with her daughter in her arms and you at her side.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #marvel #black widow #mcu #black widow x reader

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andromedasstarship · 3 years

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in the stars - chapter 3

photo credit - unknown

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, depictions of murder/violence, angst, verbal fighting, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking (cigarettes)

summary - “If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought this was what ‘seeing red’ meant

a/n - hi besties! im so sorry this update took so long! i really wanted to make it perfect and was struggling with putting this together. to make it up this chapter is a whopping 5.9k words so uh enjoy lol!

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 2 // chapter 4

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You had to physically stop yourself- gripping the desk chair beside you so hard your knuckles turned white- from following Aaron out the office door and demanding he make sense of the whole good cop- ha!- bad cop show he’d been putting on since the two of you had been horribly reunited outside of the police station.

This had been the second instance of him implying or accusing you of somehow worsening the case. And he hadn’t even been in LA for over 24hrs. It wasn’t fair, you thought, angrily grumbling to yourself about all the different ways you’d love to give him a piece of your mind. If he’d been a regular man, that you’d never met before, you probably wouldn’t consider his current behavior to be so- out of pocket? disgraceful? insulting?- offensive. You knew he had a reputation for being...,a hardass on the job, but that didn’t mean he had to go overboard in his treatment towards you. Maybe he wasn’t going overboard, maybe this was just how he treated every- you weren’t sure exactly how to define yourself in the case- witness? Maybe this is just what his team expected in terms of his behavior towards people he didn’t know.

But he did know you, he knew you quite well. He knew you well enough to know you’d never purposely attempt to slow the case down. Even without his fancy profiler skills, you were certain Aaron Hotchner knew every little thing about you. Or at least he used to.

And while Aaron may know everything there was to know about you, you were beginning to doubt if you actually knew anything about him. As expected, over the past two months the case had been taking an extreme toll on you; constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that someone was lurking behind every corner. What made it worse, was that it was yet another situation that required you to keep a secret. You ‘had’ the officers at the station and your agent, but besides them you were dealing with this completely on your own. Making the situation about yourself felt wrong, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how hurt you felt at Aaron's accusations that you were somehow more part of the problem than you were a victim. Yes, you hadn’t gone up to him and explicitly told him how badly you were hurting, but it’s not like it took a genius- or a profiler- to reach that conclusion themselves.

It hurt, to have someone whose validation you had once- still did- crave so much, suddenly act as if you were a ‘bad guy’. Maybe you were being dramatic, you thought. Maybe you were overreacting and reading far too deep into such short interactions. On the other hand, you reasoned that it was perfectly acceptable to have feelings. Before you could delve deeper into that mental tirade, a sharp knock on the doorframe grabbed your attention. Looking up, you saw JJ leaning halfway into the room.

“Sorry,” you said, awkwardly letting go of the chair, “I uh, got caught up with uh, just you know, thoughts about the case!” Smooth. You tried to put a cheery tone in your voice. You tried to subtly study her reaction as you walked over to her and it was clear she wasn’t exactly buying into your sudden happy attitude. She didn’t press you though, something you were grateful for. Instead she just moved out of the doorframe, letting you join her in the hallway.

“The rest of the team has split up already, would you like to start in the basement?” JJ asked. You had only spoken to her a couple times, briefly at that, but you already found great comfort in her presence; you could see why she held the position, her ability to comfort and connect with others was unbeatable. Definitely need to send JJ a case of wine as a gift.

You nodded dumbly, joining her in the hallway and taking her down towards your basement. Internally, you guessed the little ‘tour’ would only take an hour tops, considering all the little spiels you’d have to give about each room.

You felt a bit like when you went through airport security or when a police car was on a road you were driving on. That sinking feeling that somehow you were going to get in trouble even though you knew you didn’t have anything to hide. Damn Aaron. His apparent lowly opinion of you was definitely messing with your head. Oh well.

As you lead JJ towards the basement, you could vaguely hear the other agents throughout the house. A door opening here or the sound of papers rustling over there. You hadn’t exactly asked how they would be able to tell if something was missing or out of place. But honestly? You didn’t really care what the team did in your house, as long as they figured out how the unsub had gotten in there.

You’d already come to terms with the fact that the unsub had managed to steal your clothes and jewelry, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he had gotten into your house. Part of you secretly wished he had pick-pocketed you on a busy street or was stealing stuff off a film set instead. It would’ve been equally as bad and creepy and horrifying, but it would’ve been worth still feeling safe in your own house.

Smacking the lightswitch on the wall behind you, the entire basement became illuminated. “So,” you started, really drawing out the word, “this is the basement. It’s technically one big open floor, but well,” you gestured lazily with your hand, “you can see it’s kinda still split up. There’s a movie room behind those doors right there.”

JJ stepped ahead of you, walking towards the high windows in the basement. You watched as she ran her fingers along the window edges, carefully going over each one. “Do these open?” She asked, turning back to look at you.

You quickly shook your head. “They’re mostly just for, like, decoration purposes.” You responded, giving a slight shrug. “I um, I’m not down here much unless I’m having people over. And those stairs we came down are the only way to get in here.” You added, thinking that’d probably be helpful.

JJ gave you that nice smile again and started towards the movie room. “I’m just gonna look in here real quick and then we can go back upstairs, okay?”

You stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, rolling back and forth from your heels to your tippy toes, awkwardly playing with your hands in front of yourself. You knew her movie room scan wouldn’t take wrong, there were zero windows in there and no other point of entry besides the door she had walked through.

Just as you expected, JJ came back out no longer than five minutes later. Once she got closer to you, you turned slowly on your heel and started back up the stairs. “We can start upstairs and then meet the rest of your team on the main level?” You offered.

“Lead the way.”

“There’s um, two ways to get upstairs. There’s that main staircase you saw in the foyer and also there’s a ‘servants stair’ in the back,” you said, making air quotes with your fingers at the ‘servants stair’ part, “I have people that work in the house sometimes, but it’s not an actual designated staircase for anyone.” You explained, unsure of why you were feeling so anxious.

“Why don’t we go up using the second set of stairs? Since I’ve already seen the main set.” JJ said.

You nodded dumbly again, and walked in the direction of the back stairs. Once upstairs, you gave the same room spiel to JJ about six times. This is ‘x’ room, yep those windows can open, nope no one regularly comes into this room, yes the balcony doors do lock from the inside.

Just as you thought earlier, the little tour took just a couple minutes under an hour. You and JJ were standing in your kitchen, both of you leaning against opposite countertops. According to JJ the whole team had agreed to meet up in your kitchen once they were done with their scans, so it seemed that you two were the first to finish. Also expected.

You were lucky you hadn’t run into Aaron the entire time. At times you could vaguely hear his voice coming from another room and all that did was pull on your heartstrings and remind you of when the two of you were together. Aside from the sadness factor, you still weren’t sure you could trust yourself to not yell at him as soon as you saw him again.

“That’s funny.” JJ said amusedly-more to herself than to you-, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What is?” You asked. She had moved from her spot by the countertops, to standing in front of your liquor wall, staring up at a bottle you couldn’t quite recognize from your position.

“Oh, just Agent Hotchner? Out there,” she said, gesturing broadly out to where the rest of the team might be, “he loves this brand of scotch. We joke sometimes that he’d pick it over us if he was given the choice. But apparently it’s super difficult to get. He started getting lucky a few years ago and found a way to buy it, but recently I guess that luck ran out and he hasn’t been able to find it anymore.”

Your eyes went wide at that. Yes. That scotch was super difficult to get and it was ridiculously expensive. And yes, Aaron loved the stuff. The two of you used to constantly argue over money. He hated that you were always the one paying for everything and had created a ‘rule’ that you weren’t allowed to buy him any gifts. Of course, you managed to find a way around that rule and found that this specific scotch was his gift achilles heel. So, you used to send him a steady supply while also keeping a bottle at your place for the rare occasions he was over.

“Oh?” You squeaked.

“Yeah, it’s super rare or something. They only make so many batches a year don’t they?” JJ asked, turning back to look at you.

You quickly pulled your emotions in when she turned towards you, just giving her your third dumb nod of the day. “Yep, super hard to get. Super super hard. I uh, got as a gift once, I don’t even like the stuff.”

“You should tell Hotch. I bet he’d pay pretty well for it.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head. Definitely will not be doing that.

----

Upstairs, Rossi and Hotch were looking through your upstairs office. While your downstairs office was more work based- you stored scripts and had meetings down there, etc.-, your upstairs office was used for your more ‘personal’ work tasks.

“If the unsub is taking her clothes, we might have better success scoping out her closet. See the potential entry and exit points from her room that the unsub must be taking.” Rossi proposed.

Hotch nodded at that, putting down the stack of fan mail he’d been flipping through, trying to find any repeats or ‘creepy’ letters. He made a mental note to have Reid come and read through the piles of other mail you had neatly stacked around the room.

Your attention to fanmail had been one of the things that had quickened the process of him falling in love with you. He had had his doubts in the beginning of you relationship- he had stereotyped you for sure-, your age and status giving him somewhat valid concerns that you’d be insanely disconnected from the normal world. You’d proved him wrong in many ways since the beginning, but one of those ways had been the many days you’d call him from this room, reading through every single letter you were sent and always making sure to send a small note back.

“Good idea, let’s go.” Hotch said. He walked out of office and didn’t think twice, his body automatically walking towards the room a few doors down from your bedroom. You didn’t keep your closet in your bedroom, you had actually put a little couch and sitting room in your bedroom closet space. Instead you’d taken an entire guest room and converted it into a full dressing room/closet that was a better fit for your needs.

As Hotch went straight into the room, he missed the narrow look Rossi was giving him from the doorframe. It only took a couple minutes, but eventually Hotch looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Rossi. “Are you going to come in?” He questioned.

“You knew her closet wasn’t in her room.” Rossi noted, amusement clear in his voice.

Hotch’s face paled, before he steeled his emotions back over. “I saw the clothes while walking past earlier and made the deduction.”

“She’s pretty, isn’t she Aaron?” Rossi teased, clearly finding a lot of enjoyment in this conversation.

“Dave,” Hotch groaned, running a hand over his face, “just, not now okay?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice.

Rossi certainly didn’t have the entire story figured out, but he wasn’t dumb either, he could piece things together. As much as he’d love to keep busting Hotch over this, there was something about how gentle he had been with you in the conference room and his current clear discomfort that persuaded Rossi otherwise. Rossi grinned at Hotch and raised his hands in mock surrender.

“So, we know the unsub doesn’t have to necessarily be quiet, her room is at least what, 3-”

“Four and across the hall.” Hotch huffed out, not looking up to meet Rossi’s eyes.

“Four and across the hall away. So he doesn’t need to sneak past her if he’s coming in at night...”

----

Back in the kitchen, you turned your head at the sound of the back patio doors opening, showing Morgan and Spencer. Guess they’d be the second pair done with their house tour.

Just as you were about to open your mouth and offer the two of them something to drink, you noticed the rather grim expressions on both their faces. Upon better inspection, you saw Spencer was tightly gripping on to a dirty journal.

“What’s that?” You asked curiously, trying to get a better look at it.

“I found this uh, journal out by the edge of your property line. I think it may belong to the unsub.” Reid responded, giving you a tight lipped look.

It was terribly cliche, but you couldn’t help but gasp at that. Your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open.

“I flipped through it, there’s nothing that clearly identifies him, but it seems like he was keeping track of your comings and goings. As well as keeping a list of the things he took from your house, we can cross check that list with-”

“Can I look at it?” You interjected, a morbid curiosity consuming your mind.

Reid gave an unsure glance at the two other agents in the room. “I think it’d be better for the rest of the team and I to look through the journal first, and make sure there’s nothing uh...upsetting in it.”

----

With the new revelations that the unsub had managed to break into your home multiple times, the team decided it would be best for at least one of them to be with you at the house at all times; during the day they would assign a plainclothes officer to discreetly sit watch. It was comical, the way they decided on the watch and then promptly assigned Aaron the first shift of the night.

You wondered why he agreed to it, knowing he could’ve easily pulled a seniority boss card and taken himself out of any and all future watch shifts as well. He probably didn’t want you to get closer with any of his agents, should you accidentally say something a bit too personal. He also probably assumed that with the late hour of the night, you’d immediately be going to bed or at least locking yourself away in your room for the rest of the night.

The team had stayed hours after their first walkthroughs of the house, the new list and notes from the unsub giving you all a better idea of what to look for. You had gone through the list of clothes and jewelry in front of the team, giving them a base description of what you assumed the unsub had meant, whether or not you had considered it missing and where you thought you’d last seen it in the house.

Unfortunately, whatever Aaron had been banking on wouldn’t be happening. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling that your house was no longer a home anymore. It was painfully cheesy, but you knew that trying to sleep would be futile. Nor did you really feel like being ‘alone’ in your room. That didn’t mean you were going to strike up a conversation with Aaron or ask him to play a board game or something, but you wouldn’t be shutting away from the rest of the night.

After the team left, you had gone upstairs and changed into a more comfortable outfit for the evening; just your trusty sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were now walking back down the stairs and towards your kitchen; you grasped a lighter and your emergency cigarette pack in one hand. As you made your way into the kitchen, you could feel Aarons eyes on you from wherever he was seated in the living room. You pointedly ignored him, instead setting the pack and lighter down, freeing your hands so you could mix yourself your favorite drink.

Once your drink was prepped, you balanced all your things in your hands and made your way back through the living room and out the grand French doors that lead to your backyard. You walked over to one of your lounge chairs that overlooked the pool and had a beautiful view of the sky and bright lights of the city. You turned on one of your favorite playlists and made yourself comfy in the chair, lighting up one of the cigarettes.

With the first inhale, you felt your body relax. It was a horrible habit- you knew that-, but if there was ever a time to stress smoke, you reasoned it was probably now. Over the sound of your music, you faintly heard one of the doors open again, but you didn’t bother turning around.

“I thought you quit.” Aaron said, quite literally coming out of the shadows. Even though you didn’t turn to look at him, you could perfectly imagine him in your mind; probably leaning up against one of the legs of the cabana, arms tightly crossed and a deep scowl on his face.

“I did.” You replied plainly, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of your mouth. Using your free hand you picked your glass back off the chair side table, twirling it slowly. As you took a long sip, you could hear Aaron walk closer, not quite coming into view yet.

“Drinking and abusing substances in response to a traumatic situation is widely frowned upon.

“Thank you Surgeon General,” you said, rolling your eyes before adding, “no offense Agent, but right now, I don’t really think it matters.” You didn’t even bother attempting to argue that you were on your first drink and first smoke.

“It matters, when my team will be counting on you tomorrow. The expectation is that you’ll be a useful and legitimate resource.” Aaron said, voice tight.

“Do you really think I’m dumb enough to actually believe, that you believe that a single drink is going to render me useless?” You asked, finally turning your head so you could give him a pointed look. When he didn’t answer you rolled your eyes again, turning back away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Agent, I’m unavailable to be a resource tomorrow.”

“What do you mean, unavailable?” Aaron asked. He finally walked into view, sitting down on the chair next to you. He positioned his legs over the edge facing you, resting his elbows off his knees.

“What do you mean unavailable?” You said mockingly- the alcohol in your system and stress of the day emboldening your behavior. You paused for a moment to take another drag from your cigarette; Aaron didn’t miss the way you turned your head further from him during your exhale. “You have your job Agent, I have mine.”

“There is a dangerous free man out there with a special interest in you. He’s not only managed to break into your house but is also murdering surrogate women in place of you,” he said, voice growing louder as he went, “and you think you should go to a film set? How immature and irresponsible are-”

“Stop doing that!” You cut him off, snapping your head to face him. For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how close he’d been sitting. “Stop painting me to be some dumb self centered girl. This is the fourth time today.” You said, staring him hard in the face, neither of your breaking eye contact. He always looked so good with a beard- stop that.

“I’m trying to do my job and protect you,” he paused, eyes scanning your face, “I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.” In that moment, his voice was so painfully honest and it almost made you want to agree to do whatever dumb rules he had for you.

Almost.

Instead, you swung your legs to the side of the chair opposite to him, standing up in a quick blur of motion. “Stop doing that too!” You exclaimed, running your free hand over your face. You took a long drag from your cigarette, placing one hand on your hip. Aaron was giving you a genuinely confused look and you just wanted to wipe it off in one big swipe. “Stop doing some weird little bait and switch between acting like I’m a diva and then trying to end it with some vaguely little sweet comment.”

“You actually think I don’t care about your safety?” Aaron asked, the faintest bit of hurt in his voice. He stood up as well before continuing. “You think this isn’t a difficult case for me?”

“You do not get to do that!” You said angrily, pointing a free finger out at him. “You are not allowed to try and make yourself a victim in this story while you simultaneously make me part of the problem. How the hell can you see yourself as even remotely ‘good’ when you left the way you did?” There it was. Maybe it was immature, dragging the breakup into the argument, but the days’ tension- not to mention the months of bottled up emotions- was finally snapping inside of you.

“If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought that this must be what ‘seeing red’ meant.

“Do you treat all your witnesses like this?” You were full on yelling now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Is this your version of appropriate conduct, Agent Hotchner? You’ve proven to be nothing but incompetent! You can’t even see two inches past your own fucking face to consider this from my perspective!”

Your words had their intended effect. Aaron’s face fell for the briefs of moments before years of bottling his own emotions took back over. You had to give him some credit for keeping it, outwardly, more together than you were. “I won't fight with you over something as trivial as this. You’ll report to the station in the morning with the rest of the team.” He ordered, voice dangerously low.

“I have to work!” You exclaimed, putting heavy emphasis on each word.

“Going to work isn’t safe. Do you understand that? Your stalker is well acquainted with your schedule, you need to step away from what’s expected of you. It’s dangerous-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head, “are you even listening to yourself? Your job is dangerous every single day, hell you didn’t even step away when the job was dangerous specifically to you! How am I supposed to take advice you can’t even follow?” At the end of your sentence, you angrily stubbed out your cigarette in the ashtray, leaving the butt in the tray.

“This isn’t about me.” Aaron snapped, voice loudest it’d been all night. “I’m trying to keep you safe. What part of that don’t you understand?” He asked, giving you a tough look. You found yourself at a loss for words and he took your silence as an opening to continue. “I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“Are you finally understanding how exhausting it was to love you!” You blurted out, the words catching even you by surprise. You forcibly blinked back the tears forming your eyes. “That this, is how I felt each time you were called away on a case?”

Aaron was equally as shocked, his mouth opening in vain a few times as he searched for the proper response. “I made sure you were properly aware of the risks and demands of my job before we started our relationship.” Bad answer.

“And I never complained,” you replied, a defeated tone creeping into your voice, “not once, did I?”

“If you’re going to accuse me of hypocrisy, you should recognize it in yourself. You were equally if not more in demand than I was.”

“I thought you liked that I was so ‘in demand’!” You said, the frustration growing again. “What was it you always said? You liked not having to worry about me alone at home, waiting up for you.”

“You’re coming to the station tomorrow Y/N. Final order.” Aaron repeated, completely ignoring your last statement.

“You know what,” you said, the fight in your voice gone, “I don’t have to put up with this and your lame attempts at trying to be a good guy. I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You quickly leaned over to swipe your cigarette pack and glass of the little table.

“Are you actually going to run away from this?” He asked, almost as if he was trying to bait you back into the argument.

You scoffed loudly, staring him dead in the eyes. “You did.”

You angrily walked around him, nearly stomping the entire way to the door. As you were halfway into the house you paused for a moment, not even slightly turning your head back towards him. “Blankets are still in the same spot in the living room.” You said, slamming the door behind you as soon the sentence left your lips.

-----

The next morning, promptly at 8am, an email from your agent was sent to Aaron. It was incredibly petty and inherently personal, but to an outsider it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of your status. Aaron was near furious, as expected, but even in his stubbornness he could see you had the high ground. Long story short, the email plainly stated vaguely threatened that if your work schedule were to become an issue for the team, you could easily send a ‘spokesperson’ from your team to deal with any and all future communications. Y/N 2, Aaron Hotchner 0.

Back at your house, you were having a lovely morning. The victory tasted sweet in your mouth as you got yourself ready for the long day. Sometime around 4:00AM Reid had switched out with Aaron and the two of you were currently in your kitchen; Reid sitting at one of your countertop stools while you stood over the stove. After being angrily informed by Aaron that you wouldn’t be required to come into the station with Reid, you decided to make a simple breakfast for the two of you. Reid had wanted to leave sooner, but he was also under orders to not leave you alone until you were safely in your own car and on your way.

You weren’t sure how he felt, but you thought you and Reid got along quite well. He was the closest in age to you and even though he didn’t really seem to understand any of the little jokes or references you made, there was still some level of mutual understanding there. It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes as well, of course he wasn’t Aaron by any means- stop that!

Over breakfast, you spent the entire time answering Reid’s many questions about various actors and actresses he was a fan of. Lucky boy, you thought; as all the people he mentioned were quite nice even when the camera was off. What was it that people said about never meeting your hero?

He graciously offered to do all the clean up, as you had cooked, which gave you a bit of extra time to make sure you were ready to go. When you both were ready and Reid had confirmed the plainclothes officer was positioned on your street, he helped you to your car.

With one hand on the top of your car, just as you were about to sit down, you stopped and turned to Reid. “I enjoyed breakfast, would you please tell Agent Hotchner how sorry I am that my schedule’s gotten in the way?” You asked, giving him your sweetest smile. It was another petty move and Aaron was sure to see right through it; the team had amazing skills at reading people, you knew that, but you were an equally talented actress. “I’ll make sure to let you guys know when I’ll be back at home tonight.” You added, before sliding into your car. Reid closed the door gently behind you, waving from the outside of your garage as you pulled out and drove off.

-----

Case wise, the next two days were quiet. You had won the ‘going to work battle’ by a longshot and happily went about your scheduled days. Aaron hadn’t taken another watch shift since the argument, something you were grateful for. It wasn’t until the fourth day, that the case started to pick up again.

“Agent Hotchner?” A young officer stepped into the conference room, holding out a thick manila envelope. “This was just dropped off at the front desk, addressed to you.” That certainly captured the entire team’s attention; every head turning, as if off on a swivel, to face the officer.

“Who dropped it off?” Hotch demanded. ‘Who dropped it off?” He repeated, an added aggression in his voice.

“Some kid! Some kid dropped it at the front and left before anyone could get a word out!” The officer said hurriedly, raising one of his hands up in a meek surrender.

Hotch stepped up to the officer, easily snatching the envelope out of his hands. “Assure that my technical analyst has access to your entire security feed. Now.” He ordered, not giving the officer as a second glance. “Morgan, call Garcia and make sure she accesses those tapes and identifies the kid immediately.”

Hotch went back to standing in front of the long table in the middle of the room, setting the envelope down in front of him. “Gloves, I need-” A pair were placed in his outstretched hand by Reid before he could finish. “I don’t want anyone touching anything that comes out of here without gloves, understood?” He said, not looking at anyone in particular. His focus, completely drawn to the angry penmanship that spelled out his name. After quickly pulling his gloves all the way on, Hotch grabbed the envelope again, internally shoving down his emotions before ripping off the top edge in one clean pull. Nothing could have prepared him for the way the envelope was overflowing with hundreds of photos of you. He tilted the envelope and they all came falling out, covering the table in front of him. Reid mentally estimated there were over five hundred photos of you- some seemed to be cut, some looked to have writing and designs on them- and there were even a few slips of paper thrown in the mix.

“Hotch, Garcia managed to grab the plate from what the kid drove off in. She's running it-” Morgan said, his sentence running off as he took in the table full of photos. “Holy shit.” He said quietly, making his way closer to the table as well.

Hotch reached down, picking up the closest photo to him. There you were, standing on a boardwalk with your hand blocking the sun from your eyes. You looked beautiful- stop that. As Hotch further studied the photo, he picked up a second one, taking another good look. It struck Hotch and the team then, the majority of the photos were grossly intimate; as if the unsub had taken them by himself. Hotch’s stomach twisted when his eyes fell on a photo that looked like you were posing for it, throwing a big smile and peace sign up at the camera.

“Did Garcia get any hits on any scorned lovers?” Emily asked, holding up a photo of you and a man. The face and body of the man had been aggressively scratched over and cut up, but Aaron had a sinking feeling it was of him.

“Yea, I got another potential ex photo right here.” Reid said, holding up another picture. In this one you had clearly been looking up at someone, but the photo had been crudely cut up to exclude whoever it was.

Morgan held up one of the slips of papers, giving it a confused look. “You lost Aaron?” He said, reading off the paper. “What’s the reasoning for singling out Hotch rather than someone closer to her age like Reid” He questioned, not expecting anyone to answer.

“I got one of Hotch’s face scribbled over. He must’ve gotten the photo online.” Emily added, holding up a professional headshot of Hotch. “Is anyone seeing photos of the rest of us? The unsub could see all of us as interfering with his connection to Y/N.”

Hotch’s stomach was twisted in all different directions. He knew the moment of truth was coming and was internally cursing himself for not coming clean sooner. But that paled in comparison to the sickness he felt over the unsub clearly being someone who had such personal access to you. He was certain that some of these photos dates back years. The idea that whoever was doing this had been so close to you, for so long, could’ve brought him to his knees.

“Hotch…” JJ said, her voice accusatory. She looked up at him, face a mix of confusion and a hint of betrayal. She held up another photo and the entire team went quiet. This photo was clearly taken at a distance, but there you were looking lovingly up at a man who was certainly Hotch.

Hotch had one hand clenched tightly on the edge of the table, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his agents staring expectantly at him.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you all,” Hotch started, running his free hand over his face, “I met Y/N five years ago and we were together for three, until I ended things.” He was sure someone had audibly gasped at that. “I know you all may have various concerns over my proximity to the case and are valid in any anger you may feel towards me. But right now, I need to go call Y/N and make sure she’s safe.”

Hotch didn’t give anyone a chance to reply, instead whipping out his phone and near running out the door. Leaving a team of confused and shocked agents in his wake.

-----

a/n - of course, thank you all for reading. it means the world to me! also just the quickest of shoutouts to @kylorendrip and @ssahoodrathotchner who both constantly put up with my writing complaints and all the random ideas i bounce around their dms on the daily.

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @alexrodriguez1269

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #hotchner x you #hotch #aaron hotchner/you #aaron hotcher/reader #'stori writes #in the stars #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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miceenscene · 3 years

Text

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 6.2k / 28.5k

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Din Is In A Cult, angst with an eventual happy ending i swear

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Eight: The End

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Anella held onto Nia as if in fear that she might slip through her fingers again. Both of them talking through tears over the other.

“I’ve missed you so much! I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you–”

“Niæna! I thought you were–Niæna, cyare’se–”

Loved one.

They stopped talking at the exact same moment to listen, making them both laugh and wipe away tears.

Anella cupped Nia’s cheeks and pressed her forehead to hers, frowning in a joy so bright it had to hurt.

“Me'vaar ti gar, ba’buir?” Nia whispered, sniffling.

How are you, grandmother?

Anella nodded slowly, swallowing hard before speaking in a rough voice. “Ner bu’ad. Yaimpar. Ori’sol gedetyar.”

My granddaughter. Returned. There is much to be grateful for.

Watching their reunion made something deep inside Din ache. He had never felt like more of an outsider.

He stepped back once, twice, hoping to let them share this moment as long as they wanted to without an audience. But–

“Ke’mot!”

Halt!

Even if it hadn’t been the exact order used by his training instructors, the tone Anella used would have stopped a runaway Star Destroyer. Din looked back, shoulders automatically hunching to brace for whatever was coming next. Anella still had an arm around Nia, but was giving him a very familiar looking study.

“Is he with you?” she asked Nia.

She smiled. “Yes, he’s with me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

Anella looked slightly mollified. “Do you have a name to go with all that beskar?”

“He goes by–”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

For half a second, he had the same feeling as when he gave Nia his true name on their first meeting. WHY? But the warm and open look in Nia’s eyes immediately quenched any doubt he might have had.

Anella looked between the two of them then snorted. “Come, let us leave this drafty high rise and you can explain. You too, Din-Din Djarin.”

Huh. It’d been a long time since he’d had relatives.

Anella took them to her small apartment many thousand levels down from the twin-spired penthouse. It was cramped, and there was some sort of betting ring happening on the street corner, but they could still see the sky, so better than most on Coruscant.

Inside was about as luxurious as being aboard The Razor Crest, which made Din feel a lot more at ease, truth be told. Anella managed to find an extra crate for Din to sit on as she only owned two chairs, but it didn’t feel too tight at the table.

Anella was a small woman, slight and barely reaching his chest. But she still had a commanding Presence that made him continually straighten his posture every time she re-entered the room. The long burn scar through her whitened eye probably helped, but even then…

Nia hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Ba’buir, sit. We’re fine.”

Anella grunted disbelieving and tossed two ration packs their way. “If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten the good ones. But I at least have this.” She placed down three metal cups on the table and brandished a bottle half-filled with golden liquor.

She filled the cups with the very strong smelling booze and then lifted hers. “K'oyacyi.”

Cheers. Literally, ‘stay alive’.

“K’oyacyi,” Nia repeated before sipping. Din lifted his glass, but did not drink.

Anella gave him an odd look. “I can assure you, this place is safer than it looks.”

“Din doesn’t remove his helmet in front of others,” Nia explained before he had to.

A knowing look crossed through Anella’s eyes that turned to a pointed glare towards Nia, who avoided it by paying very careful attention to opening her ration bar.

“I see. Well, it will keep just fine,” Anella said before taking Nia’s hand in hers and giving her a soft, concerned look. “Now tell me, my Comet-fire, what has happened since I saw you last?”

Nia let out a long breath. “A lot, but… I’m not even sure when that was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a control chip put in my head,” Nia said, making Anella’s face harden and her grip clench. “Din made sure it was removed, but it took… everything. I wasn’t even sure of my own name when I woke up.”

Anella’s face was disturbed, but she nodded and sat back. “Tell me what you know then. And I will clarify.”

“I remember Mandalore. My parents and you, our home. I remember you raising me, training me–training us. We found the school. Ba’buir, it was attacked–”

Anella held up a hand “I know this. Continue.”

Nia kept going. “I remembered the Vod’oya after we found the headquarters. Going through the mission log brought back a lot of good memories.” She smiled for a moment, but then it disappeared. “But there’s gaps. In the records themselves. We have a contact seeing if it can be recovered, but haven’t heard anything yet.”

So far none of this seemed to surprise Anella. “And then?”

Nia’s face grew very carefully blank. “I know I killed Phasia,” she said in a small voice. On instinct, Din reached out and took Nia’s other hand. He could feel Anella’s gaze rest on him for a moment. “I don’t… know why, but I remember doing it. Ro saw me shoot her, she told me.”

“You found Ro?” Anella asked, sounding actually surprised now.

“Yes, she was… angry. I would be too.”

“What brought you here then?”

Din spoke up, making them both look his way. “I had a bounty, some years ago, for Phasia. I delivered her to that building. Nia remembered being chipped there when we arrived.”

“I remember a man. Human. He wanted to know where the school was…” Nia’s face threatened to crumble. “And I told him. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Because you were chipped,” Anella reminded her, her voice fierce with determination. “Do not take guilt that is not yours, Niæna.”

She didn’t look like she quite agreed with her, but she let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for eight months, and there’s still so much we don’t know. Please, anything will help.”

Anella nodded and considered for a moment before speaking. “I hope you have re-discovered it, but your gut instinct is… uncanny. As a child, it was unsettling.” A wry smile twisted her mouth for a moment. “But as you grew older, and especially with the path you and the others chose, it gave me some measure of peace. So when you came to me a year ago and told me that you felt one of the Vod’oya had betrayed the group, I trusted you. But I told you that you would need hard proof to convince the rest. And you had it. The collection of missions the Vod’oya had completed all under false pretenses, all proposed by Phasia. You showed it to me not long before… before it all ended.

She finished her drink and set the cup down. “The owner of that building is a man named Terreck Basslan. He is rich, which makes him powerful. Even with your proof, we weren’t sure how he’d gotten his hooks into Phasia–” She looked pointedly at Din. “But it was clear that she was the turncoat. Through her, Basslan was using the Vod’oya as his own personal army. The seven of you could take out his enemies, remove his competitors, or just cut down anyone in his way. I am sure he lined Phasia’s pockets with more credits than she knew what to do with for her assistance.

“When you told me, I thought it best to disband, but… you wanted to know why she had betrayed the sisterhood. I told you to be careful. She had kept up the ruse for years; she was probably deeper in than even we knew.” Her face grew even more somber. “And then I was woken up very late by Kolo, who told me that Phasia was dead. And you were missing.

“I went after you immediately. You made it to the spaceport before I could get to you. I followed you, tracked you to that building.” She shook her head, a grim light in her eyes. “At the time, I hoped you were dead. That would have been better than most of the fates that waited there.”

“I got lucky,” Nia said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” Anella replied, looking at Din. “By the time I returned to the school, the Empire had already come through. Basslan must have told them where we were; Mandalorians are not technically wanted, but far from welcome. They killed some, took most. Where and for what purpose, I do not know. I buried the dead and burned the stormtroopers in the woods. Set out to find my students.”

“You think Basslan knows where they are?” Din asked.

“I think Coruscant is a good place to hide when you still need contacts. I have a scanner nearby; it logs every ship that comes and goes from Basslan’s.” She smiled slightly. “My curiosity was sparked when the same pre-Imperial ship that landed at my school three weeks ago showed up here. Though the Mandalorian was more a surprise than your survival, Comet-fire. Where did you find him?”

Nia laughed slightly. “He found me. On Tatooine. When I was chipped, everything felt foggy. Except for this… compulsion. Kick the guard off the barge. I did, and then he showed up out of nowhere.”

“And what brought you to Tatooine, Din?”

“I took a quarry and had my own… instinct. Go to the Dune Sea, and follow the barge.”

Nia smiled at him. “Though the next thing I remember is waking up to a stormtrooper swinging a staff at me.”

“You wouldn’t stay on the ship,” he replied, making her laugh.

Anella was looking sharply between the two of them. “I see.”

“We’re Matched,” Nia added, resting a hand on his arm.

“Good. Glad you have figured that out yourselves.” She refilled the two empty glasses and sat back in her chair. “Are you bonded yet?”

Nia’s confused frown reflected the one on his face. “No…?”

“It will come in time. What clan are you from, Din?”

“I don’t have one. I was a foundling, raised in the fighting corps.”

“Outside of Keldabe, right?” Anella asked, though it seemed she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Nia asked, pulling the conversation off track. She nodded to the corner where a few bags were packed.

“I was, yes. I have received a tip on where my students may have been taken. Was going to investigate when you two arrived.”

“I want to come with you,” Nia said.

Anella held up a hand. “No. I do not know yet if it is true. If it is, I will leave word at the school. But you need your evidence back. Prove yourself to Ro and find the others together.”

Nia nodded, though it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her grandmother again.

They stayed up talking, reminiscing till late in the night. Not stopping till Nia could barely keep her eyes open. Anella wouldn’t hear of them returning to the ship, making a few spare beds out of the blankets and furniture she was leaving behind.

Nia curled up on the couch, immediately dropping into sleep before she’d even managed to pull a blanket over herself. Din watched Anella drape a quilt over her and smooth her hair, something deep inside him aching again.

Anella caught him staring from the table, jerking his head back to look down at his still full cup. However, instead of retiring herself, she sat down across from him and refilled her glass.

There was a quiet minute as she sipped and studied him carefully. She and Nia really were related.

“Tell me, Din,” she said in a low voice. “What are your intentions towards my granddaughter?”

He didn’t know how, but he suddenly felt that every answer that came to mind was wrong.

“As long as Nia wants me by her side, that is where I’ll be,” he said finally. True in spirit, but not his full hopes.

She huffed in amusement. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.”

Her choice of words gave him pause.

“Because it seems to me like you have already chosen her,” she continued.

Kriff, he’d hoped he was more subtle than this.

“Not formally…” he admitted. “But… I am… settled.” He looked to where he could see the top of Nia’s head. “I do not know if she agrees with me.”

“What of your tribe? Do they agree with you?”

Din looked back at her, frowning. “Nia is my Match, what is there to argue with?”

Anella chuckled into her teacup. “Since when has that stopped Mandalorians?”

Under his helmet, he frowned. The idea had not even crossed his mind…

“You know, Nia’s mother was of your tribe. The Faithful Ones up the mountain,” she added.

“Really?”

She nodded once, looking at him closely. “When she and my son chose each other… her tribe cast her out for choosing someone who was not faithful.” A black pit opened in his stomach. “It was difficult for her, and admittedly, I had my doubts at first about the wisdom of my son’s choice.” A wistful smile filled her eyes. “But before long, she made me as proud as if I had birthed her myself. It was through her foresight and her sacrifice that Nia and I survived and escaped when the Empire invaded our village.”

“Nia never told me.”

“Nia does not know. Her mother wanted to leave that part of her past behind her. And she did…” She drained her cup and stood. “I may be biased, but I think she was happier for it.” She patted his shoulder as she passed by. “Good night, Din Djarin.”

Din finished his cup and settled for the night, leaning against the couch with a long sigh. Nia, still asleep, turned and threw her arm across his chest. He slipped his glove off and held her hand, the usual something flickering beneath the surface as he drifted off.

The next morning, Anella saw them back to The Razor Crest, not before giving them a small case of ration bars and the quilt Nia had slept under. She probably would have foisted more, if Nia hadn’t gently yet firmly assured her they weren’t in danger of starving.

“One last thing,” Anella said, making Nia suck in a breath and Din bite back a chuckle. She reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped, rather flat package, handing it to Nia. “You should have this. It is time.”

Nia unwrapped it and both their mouths dropped open. It was a beskar cuirass, battle-worn and painted grey and white.

Nia looked up at her. “I cannot accept this–”

“I cannot wear it anymore. It is right that you should have it, cyare’se.” Anella ran a hand over her beskar, thumb rubbing at one of the scuffs. “It will need to be fitted to you. And deserves new paint. Perhaps a new color if you think it fitting.”

The color of a Mandalorian’s armor was symbolic. Grey meant mourning a loved one, while white meant a new start.

His own red set was in honor of his parents. Perhaps it was time for a new color on his own as well.

“I will take good care of it,” Nia promised solemnly, her hand pressed over the iron heart in the center.

Anella nodded. “I know this.” She rested a hand on her shoulder and waved Din in to rest the other on his, looking between the two of them. “Look after one other well. Mandalorians need each other, now more than ever.”

They looked at each other, a warm smile passing between them. “We will,” Nia promised, not looking away for a moment.

Anella patted Din’s arm and kissed Nia’s forehead one last time before letting them board the ship.

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Anella called, waving from the landing pad.

Maybe we’ll meet again. A Mandalorian farewell.

Nia watched her from the cockpit, waving back as Anella grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view.

Din was setting coordinates for Nevarro when a message came through. Peli’s voice was crackly but clear.

“You two are in luck; I was able to recover most of the data. Come back to Tatooine when you can–and don’t forget the rest of my money.”

He immediately plotted coordinates for Tatooine. Unfortunately, Coruscant being Coruscant, it was actually almost two full hours later till they made the jump to hyperspace and he could leave the flight deck.

He found Nia down in the hull, putting away the armor cleaner that usually only he used.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking her now shining beskar into the armory. “Yes… Part of me wishes we didn’t have to be apart, but we’ll see each other again.” She smiled back at him. “She liked you, you know.”

He chuckled. “I liked her too.”

Her eyes shone, warm and open. “Din. You… you have saved my life in so many ways. Without you…”

The look in Anella’s eye came to mind – I hoped you were dead – making him pull her into his arms. Safe, she was safe now.

She leaned back enough to look at him. “It means so much to me that you like my clan. Maybe… the next time we see Anella, I could ask if she would let you join. You could claim clan Vard’on when people ask. If you wanted.”

“A clan of three,” he said, trying it on for size and finding it a perfect fit.

She smiled, so much brighter and more beautiful than the stars that he just had to kiss her.

Din slipped his helmet on the next morning and opened the bunk door. Nia was already up, doing the final meditation of her stretching routine, completely still and her back straight as a saber.

He admired her form, the slope of her waist and the absolute control over her body she commanded. By the Mythosaur, he was beyond merely lucky to have a Match like her.

“You’re staring, my absence,” she said, without turning around to see him.

He smiled and went to sit behind her, pulling his helmet off before tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck.

Sea air and wildflowers.

“Absence?” he asked, interrupting the end of her meditation in more ways than one.

She relaxed back against him. “When you’re helmeted… I can feel the space where you should be, rather than actually you. You’re my favorite absence.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear.

A contented hum echoed from her chest as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

They sat there in the quiet perfect ordinariness for a while. That feeling of Something hurtling towards them returning. Though this time, it arrived.

Connection.

“What is this?” she murmured.

Pure and powerful.

It went beyond star bursts and comet fire.

It was… the birth of a galaxy. The miracle of Something from Nothing.

And at the same time, it was simply just her. And him.

Devotion flowed through his hands, tempered with loyalty and admiration. Strong and fierce. Familiar, but decidedly not his.

“Nia,” he whispered, head swirling with the rush.

“I thought the bond was just… a metaphor. A fairy tale…”

Surprise and awe joined the cocktail before simmering down into an amusement that sparkled.

This was her, Din realized after a moment. It was Nia. She was feeling all of this, and through where he touched her, he felt it too. Was she feeling him? How did she not drown in all these emotions?

Concern flooded the riptide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a hand slipping up to cup the back of his neck. Every place she touched him, Awareness flowed, nearly overwhelming. “Din?”

He nodded, finding his footing slowly but surely. “Yes. I… I feel you.”

Concern ebbed, replaced with shimmering adoration.

“Din Djarin, you like me,” she teased, curling against him.

He had to laugh. That was too small a word for everything he could guess she felt from him.

“I do.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, holding her tightly and basking in her. Without any effort at all, the words slipped out, soul-deep and earnest. “Will you marry me?”

Surprise detonated.

She breathed a giggle. “Grandmother warned me that Mandalorians move fast. I just assumed she was talking about sex.”

He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know…” Thoughtful consideration welled up.

She had to feel his nerves, his longing for this.

Instead of answering, however, she turned to face him, eyes already closed without any reminder. Her hands reached out for his face, and he guided them to his cheeks. She pulled him close again, pressing their brows together.

“Yes.”

Star bursts and comet fire. Coming from both him and her.

A smile so bright it splintered into a laugh bubbled up from within him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling too, eyes still closed.

He nearly asked her to open them. Breaking his Oath seemed almost worth it to see her eyes with his own in that moment.

But something deep recoiled at the thought. So instead he kissed her, soft and sweet.

“When?” she asked, lips still brushing his.

He kissed her again. And again. And again, moving slowly up her jaw, fingers brushing through her curls. “Now?” he asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Really?”

“Mhi solus tome–”

We are one together. The first line of the vows.

She gasped and pulled half back, but he reeled her back in, laughing and nowhere near done kissing her. Her surprise and amusement bubbled.

“Grandmother would never forgive you if you married me on the floor of your ship.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “Would you forgive me?”

“I’d have to think about it,” she teased with a grin he happily kissed away.

“Where should we go then?” A kiss to her forehead. “Naboo?” A nibble to her chin. “Coruscant?” A rub to her nose with his. “Mandalore?”

She laughed. “Yes, reclaim Mandalore for me, and I’ll marry you by the lake outside of Keldabe.”

“De ner haat.”

By my honor.

Still smiling, she kissed him once more and then relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, a hand stroking through the hair by his ear. Her happiness sparkled under his skin everywhere she touched him.

“I don’t care where… but I would like to have my eyes open. When we marry, I want to see you.”

A thin curl of worry smoldered in his throat. “Will the helmet be enough?”

She was quiet for a long moment, considering again. “Yes. I will never ask you to break your Oath for me, de ner haat.”

The worry immediately extinguished. He kissed her forehead. “Vor entye.”

I accept this debt. Or thank you.

“Of course, ner riduur.”

My husband.

He smiled and held her tighter, the edges of his person threatening to burst from their shared joy too large to be contained within just himself.

“Din Djarin of clan Vard’on, chosen of Niæna, has a nice sound to it,” she said, smiling too.

“Yes. It does.”

They arrived in Tatooine the next day, Peli extremely happy to see her money. And also them.

Nia flipped through the recovered data, the proof of Peli’s hard work evident in the relief in her eyes. “It’s here. This can all be traced back to Terreck and Phasia,” she said before tucking the drive away.

“Thank you, Peli,” Din said, offering a hand.

She looked surprised then shook his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t that difficult. And tell you what, next time you come to Tatooine, I’ll get rid of that dent on the back side of the ship for you. Half-price.”

Now with the evidence in hand, it was time to reach back out to Ro.

Nia left another puzzle box on the doorstep of her house, hoping that it hadn’t been abandoned.

But even if Ro was still around, there was no guarantee that she would answer.

However, about a week after they left the message, they got a holo request. Nia looked back at him from where she sat in the captain’s chair, face twisted with worry. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she accepted the call.

Ro appeared, her semi-translucent face completely neutral.

“Ro, I’m glad you called,” Nia said, offering a slight smile.

Ro nodded once. “Your message said you can explain what happened.”

“I can, yes. Phasia… she was working for someone else. Someone bad. And I can prove it. I swear by the Manda’lor. I swear by Anella.”

“Fine, fine. Bring your proof and I’ll listen. But I want to meet with just you. Leave the buckethead behind.”

Nia looked his way. He pulled off a glove, brushing fingers against her hand out of view of the camera. Her worry flowed through the contact, but changed to gratitude as she felt his understanding.

“Alright. Tell me where, and I’ll come alone,” Nia promised.

“I’ll send coordinates.” But instead of hanging up, Ro paused. “If you… after we clear the air… it might be nice to… catch up.”

Nia’s whole face brightened. “Do you want to go camping? Like old times?”

“You remembered,” Ro said with a small smile.

“I did, yeah. Finally.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Since Nia was going to be with Ro for a few days, Din decided he’d be better off finding something to do with his time rather than just wait. Luckily, Ranzar Malk had a job that fit very neatly within their schedule.

And it was only slightly illegal.

“Why do you work with Ran?” Nia asked as she adjusted the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

Din picked up a few extra ration bars from their supply in the hull wall and slipped them into her backpack, as well as a flash grenade. Just to be safe. “He pays. And we need the money.”

She turned around. “The Guild also pays.”

“He pays more.”

He was wearing his gloves so he couldn’t feel her thoughts when she threaded her fingers with his. But he could see them plain on her face anyway.

“You’re disappointed,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I understand survival. But… I don’t know, hopefully someday we can choose between the right thing and the job.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Just please be safe. Don’t let Xi’an stab you.”

“Don’t let Ro stab you,” he replied, making her smile.

“I promise.”

This was the first time in nearly nine months of being together they were going to purposefully part for more than a few hours. As she made to step away, he pulled her back in, close enough to rest the brow of his helmet on hers.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he whispered, even as he reminded himself that they weren’t physically joined at the hip.

She smiled softly and touched his helmet as if she was cupping his cheek. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one apart – the second line of the marriage vows.

Heart surging up into his throat, he reached for his helmet before he could change his mind. Automatically, she closed her eyes. “Wait. Don’t,” he whispered, something deep inside him shaking.

Her eyes opened slowly, surprise drawing them wide as he reached up again. He lost sight of her as he tipped the helmet up just far enough to kiss her good-bye, gently yet meaningfully.

It wasn’t quite an Oath break, right?

Her fingertips brushed over his jaw, his lips. The awe tingling through the connection made him smile, the first one she’d ever seen.

She gasped and pressed a kiss to the bare spot in his facial hair where a beard stubbornly refused to grow. “You have a beautiful smile, Din Djarin,” she whispered, a fingertip brushing his dimple.

He lowered the helmet back into place and she came into view again, her warm smile still on her face. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” he replied, leaning over and opened the hull door.

Sunlight flooded the room as Nia grabbed her staff from its usual resting place. Ro was waiting just outside of the treeline, hands folded behind her back and her own bag at her feet. Her expression softened as Nia came into view.

Nia jogged down the ramp, stopping one last time to wave back at Din, before running to join Ro. They spoke for a few moments before Ro grabbed her bag and they fell into step, heading down the path together.

Din watched them go till Nia disappeared between the trees, already counting the minutes till he could kiss her again as he closed the hull door and flew away.

As Ran’s quick, easy, and not-all-that-illegal job turned out to be none of those things, Din promised himself this was the last time he’d work with this crew. The two of them could make it by with just the Guild from now on. Dodging fang and knife attacks from your supposed partners was not worth the pay bump.

Ignoring offers for drinks with most of the crew (and far more than just drinks with Xi’an), Din immediately grabbed his share and jumped into hyperspace. Ran’s poor planning had made him a few hours later to meet Nia than he’d originally hoped.

Din half-expected her to be waiting by the treeline as he landed in the exact same spot he’d left her in two days ago.

But she wasn’t there.

That was fine. He knew where they were planning to camp, not even half a mile down the path, near the river.

Maybe he could surprise her, he thought as he headed down the trail, fallen leaves squishing underfoot. Huh, they probably got rained on quite a bit.

He heard the babbling of the river first. And soon after the path through the trees widened with the bank, revealing a near panoramic view of the river bend.

It’d be the perfect spot to camp. But he didn’t see any signs of fire pits or sleeping rolls in the softened earth.

No sign of Nia or Ro either.

What he did see, drew him to a full stop.

Nia’s staff laid abandoned in the mud.

He stared at it for a long moment, before looking around. “Nia?” he called, loud enough to be heard in the nearby vicinity. But there was no answer.

He wrenched the staff from the mud, the weapon half-buried as if… as if it’d been left for some time.

“NIA?” he yelled again before searching for the story in the river bank. However, the heavy rain had washed anything useful away, leaving only rivulet trails and puddles behind. Not even his visor could identify footprints.

A black pit opened up in his gut, large enough to swallow him whole.

He ripped off his helmet, breath fogging slightly in the air, and looked around wildly with his own eyes.

“NIA,” he bellowed, voice breaking as it echoed between the spaces in the forest and across the water.

Silence was the only reply.

Nia was gone.

It was several weeks later that Din was back in the Vod’oya headquarters, this time alone. He set up the holo recorder on the table and activated it, stepping back to the foot and trying to pick a place to begin.

“Anella, I have… Something’s happened.”

He looked at the glowing light of the recorder and knew that this wasn’t the right way to do this, for so many reasons. But fear more than Creed kept his helmet on his head.

“Nia’s gone missing,” he said, face screwing up from the stabbing pain of it. “She met with Ro, they were together for two days, and… and she wasn’t there when I returned. I don’t know if Ro did something, or if someone took them both, or…

He shook his head, just barely holding together enough to get out the words. “I have searched everywhere I can think. Ro’s house is abandoned. No one’s been through the school but me. Even Basslan seems to have gone underground, his staff haven’t seen him for months. I’ve thought about putting out a bounty for Nia, but… I don’t want her getting hurt.

“I’m never going to stop looking for her, de ner haat. But I don’t know what to do. And I’m out of credits. When you get this message, if you want to reach me, you can find me on Nevarro. Leave word at the cantina or with Greef Karga.”

He made himself make eye contact with the glowing lens, as if it would make a difference behind his beskar barrier. “I’m sorry, I…” He sucked a shaking breath. “I’m so sorry, Anella.”

And he ended the recording.

There was one last place he hadn’t gone yet for help.

But now with nothing left, and him nearly ready to believe he deserved it, he returned to the Covert.

Visored gazes felt heavy, pressing in on his armor. Did they know? Would they hate him for losing what so few were lucky to find?

He ducked his head and didn’t pause till he reached the armory, sitting down in front of the forge. Hoping – praying – that this would fix… anything. Something.

The Armorer put down her hammer and sat across from him. Even through two barriers of beskar, her gaze was leaden. “What is it you seek?”

Din dropped his view to his lap, shoulders bowing under the weight of Everything. “...My Match. She was taken,” he finally admitted, breath cutting out of him unevenly through his meager remaining control.

“By who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have searched… everywhere.” His control snapped, throat tightened. It was like he suddenly couldn’t breathe for the weight of his cuirass. “She’s… she cannot be found. Even by me.”

“Did she see your face?” she asked calmly.

Her question, in light of everything he’d just told her, everything he’d been living through, everything he’d lost, scalded and immediately scarred.

He stared at her for a moment. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

No. No, it didn’t. It DID NOT MATTER.

Outrage making his hands shake, he wrenched off his helmet, throwing it to the ground with such force it bounced and rolled away.

But the Armorer saw his intent and turned before she saw his face.

It just fueled his rage. He wanted her to see, to take this away from him too.

“She was my Match!” he shouted, standing to his feet. “How was she, above every other living thing in the galaxy, still forbidden from knowing my face?”

The Armorer tipped her helmet slightly, but didn’t look away from the opposite wall. “This Is The Way.”

“It was not The Way for other Mandalorians! She was clan Vard’on; her ancestors were there to ride the Mythosaur. I met her clan! I saw their faces!”

“Some Mandalorians have abandoned the true ways. But you have not yet answered my question. Did she see your face?” she asked again, completely unfazed from his outrage.

He sucked in several shuddering breaths as the cruel truth welled up in his throat.

Nia was his Match. She was bonded so closely to him he felt her emotions. She had agreed to marry him. She wanted to be one when they were together, to be one when they were apart, to share everything, to raise their children as warriors, and yet–

“No. She never knew my face.”

The only sound was his low gasps as he wept for all that had been stolen from his care, stolen because he hadn’t been vigilant enough to protect it. Reckless, careless, and now–

Matchless.

He dropped back onto the bench, head in hands as the truth ran its course through him, leaking out drop by drop, till he was Empty.

Only once he’d grown quiet again, did the Armorer stand and walk calmly to where his helmet had landed. Never once looking at him.

“Even in your hardship, you have been given a blessing.”

Din stared down at his hands, empty and disconnected. “What blessing?” he asked, bitterly.

“The galaxy can take your Match. It can take your parents, your planet. And one day, it will take your life,” she said calmly as she circled around to stand behind him. “But it cannot take your belief.”

She set the helmet down on the bench next to him and continued, “Hold fast. And do not surrender what can never be taken from you, Mandalorian.”

He stared at the helmet for a long while.

If he walked away right now, he would truly have No One. Nothing.

And he would deserve it.

He rested a hand on the top, and the emptiness between his lungs cauterized to a permanent hole. Ragged, but not bleeding. Not anymore.

He picked the helmet and slipped it over his head, seeing the world only through his view screen once more.

“This Is The Way,” the Armorer said.

“This Is The Way,” he repeated.

After all,

What’s a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

End of Part I

Interlude I ; posting soon!

taglist: @loversandantiheroes ; @kelenloth ; @keeper0fthestars ; @sarahjkl82-blog ; @thirstworldproblemss ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @i-belong-in-fandoms ; @gallowsjoker ; @nova646 ; @darnitdraco

#The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #Din Djarin x ofc #mando x ofc #din djarin x oc #mando x oc #din djarin fanfiction #soulmate au #star crossed #my writing

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itsthemoofacewriting · 3 years

Text

Take your time (I’ll wait)

I have a head canon that Sanji’s full of hot air, he believes he’s the woman whisperer, but should an attractive woman actually flirt with him, especially the woman of his dreams, he wouldn’t realise or know what to do.

Also, I wanted Nami to make the first move for once.

This is for my wonderful friend @fangirlingwithnoregrets. I told her I was writing something for her but told her I had no idea when it would be done. Well, I lied.

Summary:Black leg Sanji, self-proclaimed ladies’ man, can’t even see when he’s being flirted with. Nami has her work cut out for her. Rating: M- just to be safe.

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy!

For eight long years, Nami had gathered money, week by week, month by month, never taking a break. It was hard, it was painful, and it was relentless. But despite all of that, she’s never had to work as hard as she is right now.

“Oh, Sanji-kun!” Nami called after him like she was surprised as the cook came into view. She’d heard the kitchen door open and the familiar pattern of his steps and she’d sprang into action.

“Yes, Nam-” He stopped dead, words lost at the sight in front of him and Nami had to bite down her grin.

There Nami stood just outside the women’s door, her hand pressed to her chest to hold the front of her dress up with the back unzipped, exposing her creamy back. Sanji looked like he was going to have a seizure, his eyes as round as golf balls and mouth agape.

In her most innocent voice, she asked, “Could you zip me up?”

He didn’t reply straight away, and if her ears had heard right, he actually gurgled. It was exactly what she was going for and she only had to wait another long moment before he was taking a tentative step towards her, like he was expecting it all to be a joke.

She played it oblivious, like she hadn’t noticed his struggle and turned to display her back- to show off what she needed done, of course, no other reason. She may have also scooped her hair up out of the way and curved her back more than necessary, but she needed to exaggerate.

He just wasn’t getting it.

When she felt him finally standing behind her, she turned her head to the side to look at him and fluttered her eyelashes. “Thank god you came by when you did, I’ve been struggling with the zip for ages.”

She’d waited twenty minutes behind her bedroom door for him to leave that damn kitchen.

Sanji nodded at her stiffly, staying silent but his reaction spoke volumes. His hands jittered nervously as they reached for the zip of her dress and he stopped breathing at it slowly dragged upwards. His hands lingered when the zip reached the top and before he could pull away, she was speaking, “Oh, could you also do up the clasp?”

He nodded dumbly, fingers fumbling to follow the new request and it took him three attempts before he finally managed it. He breathed out loudly when he was done and she felt it dance along her neck, causing her to shiver.

Letting her hair down, she spun around to face him. “Thank you for doing that, Sanji-kun.” Her hands smoothed the front of the dress and Sanji watched their journey like a hawk. It was incredibly satisfying but so frustrating because that’s all he ever did. Look. Not touch.

“Maybe you can help me out of it later.” When all he did was gape at her, she spared him and explained, “With the zipper, it gets stuck.”

She truly commended him for holding it together, not one sight of blood. Where was he finding all of this self-restraint from all of a sudden?

He found his voice then, “Of course,” he croaked.

Nami beamed at him and he took a step back, turning to leave. His footsteps were uneven, like he was going to faint at any moment, and it was such a stark difference from before that Nami grinned to herself. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but it was something.

“You have no shame, woman.”

Nami turned to look behind her and Zoro was peering down at her, having just turned the corner. She grinned at him cattily, unaffected by his words and shrugged.

“Keep it up and maybe his balls will finally drop,” were his words of encouragement before leaving and although they sounded harsh, she knew he meant well. She sure hoped his words were true because this was exhausting, she wasn’t sure just how many moves she had left in her arsenal.

Why was she trying so hard, you ask? Because she’d finally realised, after all this time, how she felt about Sanji and getting him to make a move was harder than she’d expected.

Oh, and she’s pretty sure everyone knew about it at this point, except for Sanji, of course.

Nami was going to have to up her game.

Again.

Sanji’s zipped up another dress since then, an even skimpier one this time, where the zipper went all the way down her back and she’d even had her sexiest underwear on, purposefully shifting to show it off. He’d seen it, she knew he had. Heard him gasp, unable to hold it back, and she’d looked over her shoulder to give him a smouldering look, to silently encourage him but instead he’d just got his act together.

He’d taken a deep breath in, zipped up the dress and left.

She’d tried not to take it personally. Maybe she was just rusty.

So she had a new plan. A plan that she knew was going to get him. He was going to have to actually touch her this time.

The plan was put into motion as soon as everyone had left for town and Sanji had retreated to the kitchen. She’d changed into her bikini and laid down on her sun lounger she’d unfolded and waited.

It was a good 20 minutes before he’d come out of the kitchen, and briefly she’d wondered if he’d actually gone into town and she’d missed it. But then he’d flung open the kitchen door, drink in hand, ready to call her name but it died on his lips at the sight of her. She leaned up on her arms, smiling up at him like nothing was wrong but she was no fool, she knew he had a great view of her cleavage, she’d positioned herself that way.

He was motionless for a second, his brain trying to compute what was happening and then walked over, forcing his eyes to look away.

That’s fine though, she’d planned for this. It was time to up the stakes.

Putting on her best smile, she sat up as she accepted the drink and thanked him. She took a large a gulp and put it down next to her lounger. Then she reached up behind her neck, undoing the strings tied there, her other hand cupping her chest to hold the bikini top up.

She wasn’t quite at the stage of flashing him yet. Especially if Chopper wasn’t around.

His hand twitched at his side and he no longer tried to avert his eyes; they watched her hands shamelessly.

Time to bring this home.

Leaning down, she grabbed the sun lotion next to her abandoned drink with her free hand. “Will you put some on my back?” She asked innocently, shaking the bottle at him when all he did was stare, “I don’t want my skin to burn.”

When he nodded wordlessly, still stunned, she took it as a cue to lay back down on her front, carefully positioning herself so her bikini stayed put. When he didn’t move, she held the bottle over her shoulder, ready for him to take.

It was kind of cute. She shuffled over for him to sit and he sat cautiously, like any wrong move and he’d wake up from a dream.

“Can you undo the other bow, please?” She asked sweetly, pulling her hair out of the way to reveal the tied strings at the middle of her back.

“Yeah,” his strained voice replied, and it took a second but then fingers were pulling at the strings. She felt them flutter across her skin to fall either side of her body on the lounger.

It took a second after that, and she wished she could see his face, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. The first touch was cold as his lotioned hands made contact and Nami hissed at the temperature difference on her skin and he muttered a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.

He was clumsy at first, unsure. His hands skittered across her skin, trying to keep the touching to a minimum, which was ridiculous considering the task. Nami was having none of it, so she hummed in contentment, relaxing under his touch and it seemed to have an immediate effect. He relaxed, his posture slackening next to her and he no longer looked like he was going to take off at a moment’s notice. His hands found their purpose, surer of themselves and moved with more rhythm against her skin.

Now she could really start to enjoy this.

“Sorry, Sanji-kun, could you make sure to get rid of the streaking? White marks ruin a tan.”

He complied so easily, his hands running large strokes along her back and although it was a hot day, she could feel goosebumps erupting along her arms. His hands were soft on her skin, but firm in their actions and she briefly wondered if he moisturised them regularly considering how much he probably had to wash them.

At one point, he daringly ran his hands down the side of her waist, she wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not, but she would see that behaviour was rewarded. It was the most she’d got from him since this all started. She sighed loudly, almost making it sound like a light moan and wiggled her hips.

It was a cheap trick, but it had the exact effect she was going for. His hands were back at her waist, slowly stroking up her sides and daringly reaching higher up, not brave enough to brush the underside of her breast but enough to make her shiver.

Finally.

“You’re really good with your hands,” she said softly, laying her head against her arms and looking at him from over her shoulder. “If you weren’t a chef, you’d make a great masseuse.”

He had a light blush on his cheeks, but he smiled down at her boyishly, “Maybe something to consider if we’re short on money?” He joked, laughing lightly at the end.

“Hmmm,” she paused, as if mulling it over, “it’s not a bad idea but maybe I want to keep you to myself.” She leaned back up on her forearms, turning as much as she could to look at him.

It was bold and she really was putting herself out there, half naked on the deck and basically telling him she wanted him all to herself, but it was worth it. He leaned closer and she didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down to her lips quickly. His hands had stopped their travels over her back and rested heavily on either side of her waist.

Time to bring this home.

“A man who can cook, dress well and is good with his hands, a catch if you ask me.”

She had him.

He was blushing brightly now, speechless but leaning closer by the second, she could almost count his blonde eyelashes. His breath was light against her face, and she shivered again. He was going to kiss her, this was it.

The spell was broken with the thumping of footsteps hitting the deck.

Zoro had ungracefully climbed back on board, unaware he was interrupting something, but it had the effect of splashing cold water on their moment. Well, not so much Nami. But for Sanji the effect was instant. He clammed up, all the tension she had eased out of his body back tenfold, his hands were off of her body and he pulled away like a shot.

It was game over.

She had been so close.

Under his breath he muttered an excuse, stood up and made a quick journey across the deck, retreating into the kitchen. He was still somewhat in character, he made sure to shoot Zoro a dirty look before disappearing but that didn’t help Nami as she watched his retreating figure.

Even Zoro looked concerned.

If it wasn’t for Sanji’s obvious interest and reactions, Nami might have started to doubt herself.

It took a few days for Nami to get back up on her feet and try again. It wasn’t exactly easy putting yourself out there to be shot down each time. Well, she wasn’t shot down, he reacted, but it wasn’t what she wanted. God, even Zoro, in his own blunt and brash way, had given her a pep talk.

Zoro!

And in those few days, Nami wondered if maybe she’d come on too strong. Maybe the best form of action wasn’t to hit on Sanji half-naked. He was hardly the most composed person and she could always ease him into that later.

The new plan was subtle but friendly.

They were having a small party on the deck after Luffy’s and Usopp’s impressive fishing haul from earlier today. There was a large table filled with food and drinks in the centre of the deck, with chairs scattered around in an unorganised fashion. It was a bit of a free for all, but then when was anything with them involved anything but that. Luffy’s currently doing impressions of various people they’ve met, much to the crew’s amusement, and they’re all guessing who it is.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sanji leaving the kitchen, finally finished with the food as he held the last dish in his hand. As soon as the dish was set down, he was scanning across the deck for somewhere to sit and jumped eagerly as Nami waved him over to the empty seat next to hers.

Which, honestly, was nice considering the lengths she’d gone to recently.

If Sanji noticed that their chairs were closer together than anyone else’s, he didn’t say anything as he slid down next to her. She smiled at him but frowned shortly after at his empty hands.

“You’re not going to eat anything?”

“I taste and test as I go along to make sure everything’s okay, I’m good for now.”

Nami snorted, “Don’t tell Luffy that, if he gets to eat along the way, he might actually take an interest in cooking.”

Sanji laughed lightly, smiling down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Her thigh brushed against his as she shifted but she didn’t move away, just settled in closer.

“Do you mind?” Sanji asked, hand nervously twiddling the cigarette between his fingers and she bit down the grin. She’d learned over the last few weeks that if he was nervous, it showed through his hands.

“Not at all,” She replied, “It reminds me of home, actually. Bell-mère used to smoke non-stop.”

“Oh really?” He encouraged, before taking a drag and blowing it out the other side.

“Yeah, our village doctor used to nag her. Kind of like Chopper with you,” she smiled and Sanji laughed.

It was always nice talking to him, he made it was so easy. If it wasn’t for his perverted tendencies or his lack of knowledge with flirting, she might actually be worried about him with other women.

“By the way, do you know who this is?” She asked lowly, as if she were telling him a secret and leaned in. She had his attention instantly, she knew she did, but it didn’t stop her from lightly touching his knee under the ruse of getting his attention.

“Uh, it’s-” he fumbled over his words for a moment before finding his feet, “the new navy admiral. It was on Dressrosa, I don’t think you’ve seen him.”

Her hand was gone then. Small steps. “Yeah, I definitely haven’t.”

They continued back and forth like that, at first guessing who the impressions were, a game within a game almost- who between them both could guess the impression first. It didn’t last as the topic changed and instead, they ended up just talking quietly between themselves and Sanji soon settled into it. His arm was across the back of Nami’s chair and they were leaning into each other, like they were sharing secrets and her hand found a permanent place on his arm.

Neither of them new what game was being played, or if it was even the same one anymore, they had become too wrapped up in each other. At one point, Sanji had got up to get food for himself and a drink for Nami, returning back swiftly. He even flicked his cigarette overboard so he could use that hand to pick at his food, the other arm never moving from around her chair.

Time to step this up a bit.

“Oh, you got the fish. That was really good today, did you do something different?”

He came alive at that question, his face brightening as he started to explain what he had done and tried, apparently it was a different technique.

It started out innocent, just a hand on his knee and he barely blinked at it. She’d been scattering in touches to his knee all evening. Except this time her hand didn’t leave, and it was only a few seconds later that she moved it further up his leg.

His eyes flicked nervously down to her hand and then back to her face, he looked like he was trying to assess what was going on.

She kept a poker face and asked a different question about dinner.

Just as he was telling her about a new cookbook he’d bought, her hand slide further up his leg until it rested comfortably on his thigh. It rested as high as it could without accidently touching something else. Not that she had an issue with that, but she’d rather they were on the same page first and didn’t have an audience.

He almost choked, then. She wasn’t sure on what, he’d stopped eating since he’d started discussing their dinner, but his eyes watered, and she passed him her drink.

His eyes almost bulged at that, but she didn’t truly shock him until she rubbed his thigh, being so bold as to run her hand down to his inner thigh.

“Are you okay?” She asked, half in mock concern and half real concern. He did look like he was about to have a heart attack, after all.

With a bright red face, he nodded, almost wheezing but he shut his mouth before that could come out. She smiled reassuringly at him but as soon as she squeezed at his inner thigh, he was on his feet. His chair clattered from the sudden move.

“Ah, um, the kitchen’s a mess,” he blurted, dancing between his feet, “I should-” he pointed at the kitchen.

“I can help,” she offered, leaning forward on her chair.

“No! I mean- no, thank you. Enjoy,” he finished awkwardly, gesturing at the deck, towards their friends and stiffly walked to the kitchen.

And then he was gone, not looking back once.

Nami was utterly defeated. She had nothing left. That was her last trick and nothing.

Unbeknown to Nami, who was still dejectedly looking at the kitchen door, Zoro was frowning at her from the other side of the deck after witnessing their little display. But it wasn’t just Zoro, Usopp next to him nudged his arm and made a ‘what the hell’ gesture. Zoro shrugged at him, as bewildered as he was.

This was stupid. She was Nami, cat thief and navigator of the infamous Straw hats; she was a gorgeous, wanted woman (in more ways the one). Yeah, it stung that she’d been rejected, but she’d get over her little crush on Sanji. At least she had her answer now anyway.

The pep talk didn’t do much to make her feel better right now, she wished it did, but it didn’t. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like partying anymore.

Before she could make up an excuse to leave, Usopp got up and went to the kitchen. Normally she wouldn’t think anything of it, but she’d seen his expression. He looked serious and stern, like he was about to tell someone off and marched to the kitchen like a man on a mission.

Maybe she’d missed something during her brief period of wallowing.

Except, when she looked around the deck, everyone looked normal. They were still talking and laughing, completely unaware of Sanji’s exit or Usopp’s huffy departure. Zoro caught her eye and he jutted his chin out towards the kitchen. She turned to look and Usopp was just about to swing the door open. Looking back at Zoro, he nodded but she didn’t get the chance to get anything more from him because then he was throwing in a comment to the rest of them, causing them to laugh.

A diversion.

She got up to her feet and walked over to the kitchen casually, so she didn’t attract attention. Except she didn’t enter as she arrived, instead squatting outside so hopefully she’d be a bit covered by the railing from the others on the lawn deck. They were facing the other way, but one careless look and she’d be spotted.

Maybe she didn’t have to worry about that. Zoro didn’t look over at her again, but he was keeping them distracted. God damn it, she’d have to increase his spending money at the next island.

She ignored that and got to the task at hand. The door was cracked open and she wondered if it was left like that by design. She craned her neck towards the crack in the kitchen door and she could hear the voices inside.

She’d missed the start, but it seemed she hadn’t missed much.

“What’s wrong with you!?”

Usopp. He sounded irritated.

“What’s your problem?” Sanji sounded confused and she didn’t blame him. It was rare to come across a cranky Usopp. He was almost as fun loving as Luffy.

“I don’t have a problem, you do! I’m not the one currently brushing off the advances of the woman I’m interested in.”

Oh. Usopp was talking some sense into him, for her.

Ah shit. She was going to have to give him more spending money too. She was going to be poor at this rate.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god! Nami! Nami’s interested in you and you’re doing nothing!”

There’s a long pause and Nami wished she could see their faces, or at least Sanji’s.

“Nami’s not interested in me,” he said it with such surety that Nami questioned her skills.

Usopp spluttered before saying, “You’re kidding right? She’s been all over you the past couple of weeks; the touching, the sun lotion and don’t even get me started on the dress incident.”

“How do you-”

“Zoro told me,” Usopp cut in. “Even Zoro’s caught on before you and that’s Zoro.”

“Nami-san just needed her dress done up.”

“Twice? Doesn’t she room with Robin, a woman that can sprout multiple hands?”

Nothing. Silence.

“Has she ever asked you before?” Usopp’s not letting up though.

There’s a long pause.

“Or put her hand on your thigh, or spend the evening whispering with you or offered to help in the kitchen?” No response. “And that’s just the shortened list, I could keep going if you wanted.”

There’s some shuffling and she wondered if it was Sanji. He did that when he was unsure of himself.

“Nami’s not interested in me, not like that. That’s just Nami being Nami.”

Usopp groaned. “Then how do you explain-”

“It’s a nice thought though,” Sanji interrupted, his voice sounding final, like he’s done with the conversation, and then she can hear footsteps walking further into the kitchen.

“Sanji-!”

“Do you want coffee? And can you ask Nami-san and Robin-chan.”

That’s a dismissal if she ever heard one. She never expected it from Sanji though, it wasn’t like him at all and she frowned at the thought.

No one spoke then and she wondered if they were staring each other down, Usopp could be stubborn when he wanted to be. But then there are footsteps walking towards the door, but they sounded defeated so Nami didn’t scramble away like she wanted to.

Usopp didn’t look surprised to see her, he closed the door after him and stood in front of her. He gave her a solemn look as he delivered, “Good luck getting through to him. He’s convinced nothing’s different.”

Nami stood up then, frustrated as she said, “He’s such an idiot. When has he ever needed this much prompting?”

“Maybe when you weren’t seriously trying, and it was just a pipe dream?” He shrugged

Nami groaned, why did Sanji have to be complex?

“I suggest going direct, now’s not the time to be a coward.”

Rich coming from him. “Like you can talk, coward!”

“I’m not currently trying to woo someone.” He even had the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows at her.

“I am not trying to woo him!” She can feel her cheeks reddening.

She was seducing, it’s a very different thing.

Except Usopp doesn’t stay to argue with her, he spun on his heel and walked off back to the lawn deck. His job was done apparently.

Rude.

She stood there for a second and Usopp and Sanji’s conversation rolled over her, replaying in her head. The longer she thought about it, the more irritated she became. Feeling wound up, she used that energy to get it over with and marched into the kitchen, throwing the door open, only to slam it closed behind her.

Sanji turned at the sound and his face lit up at the sight of her, seemingly over what happened on the deck earlier.

She didn’t give him the chance to greet her or sputter off nonsense.

“Why do you think I’m not interested in you?”

It came out more aggressive than she’d intended and Sanji blinked at her, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

The brightness on his face dimmed when what she’d said settled in and he’s reaching into his suit pocket for a cigarette. “I don’t know what Usopp or Mosshead said to you, but just ignore it.”

Really. Really.

“I’ve been throwing myself at you for over two weeks. They don’t have to say anything to me.”

He looked stunned, the hand with the cigarette in fell to his side, mouth trying to form around words, eventually all he managed to croak out was a, “No?” He didn’t even sound sure of himself.

“Yes! Sanji, I rubbed your thigh!” She said incredulously. “I almost touched-” she gestured between his legs and he blushed- “there, with no problem about it whatsoever, in front of our friends. I don’t go around doing that to just anyone.”

She used her feminine wiles to get what she wanted, sure, but she never went that far. Never had to, men were so easy.

The frown on his face looked out of place against the blush still on his cheeks and he doesn’t quite look her in the eyes. “But you’re…” He trailed off.

“I’m what?” She really needed to take the impatience out of her tone, it wouldn’t help but honestly, how was he this slow?

“Out of my league.”

She doesn’t know whether to be flattered or angry.

If he truly believed that, then no wonder all her attempts had failed, but did he really not see himself? She almost couldn’t believe she’s going to say this, but apparently it needed to be vocalised because he’s just not getting it.

She took a few steps forward, moving closer towards him. “No I’m not.” Another few steps. “Your kind, sweet, thoughtful, one of my closest friends,” she listed, closer with each attribute she listed, “and you in a suit should be illegal. You fill it out well.”

She was in front of him then.

“Really?” His eyes tentatively flickered to hers and the cigarette in his hand is still unlit.

Progress, she’s getting there.

“Really, really.”

There’s a long pause, but this one’s okay because she thinks her words are settling in.

“Then… can I kiss you?”

All the fight that’s been spurring her on left her so suddenly and his question’s so innocent, but it does something to her. She could feel her cheeks heating up and she has to fight the urge to bashfully look down at the floor. She feels like a schoolgirl and it certainly didn’t help when he cupped her face with his free hand.

But it’s the look on his face that really gets to her. It’s so soft and earnest, but there’s still some doubt hidden behind it, like he couldn’t believe this was happening and it could all be taken away at a moment’s notice.

She nodded, eyes never leaving his face.

He sharply breathed out, like he’d been holding his breath waiting for her answer, and she felt it play again as lips.

It’s nothing compared to when their lips actually touch. It’s soft and tender, a quick brush. Which then turned into more brushes and his other hand cups the other side of her face, she’s not sure what happened to his cigarette. His touch is as delicate as his kisses and it has her clutching at his vest to ground herself.

“Took you long enough,” she spoke against his lips.

“I’m an idiot,” he replied and it’s another brush of lips against hers.

“Understatement,” she murmured, and she’s had enough. Just as he’s about to brush against her lips again, she leaned up on her toes as far as she could to properly kiss him.

It got the reaction she’s been after. It’s still gentle, she couldn’t imagine Sanji being anything other than that, but there’s urgency now, his lips move against hers with purpose. Her hands move up his vest to fist in the lapels, clutching him to her and refusing to let him pull away but he doesn’t even try.

She pulled away after a moment, taking a step back and his hands slide off of her face. He’s surer of himself now, his hands reach for her as she takes another step back to stop her from walking away, but she evaded them. Instead she grabbed his tie, pulling him gently after her and when her legs bump the kitchen counter, he seemed to be getting the idea.

She hopped up onto the counter and the moment she parted her legs, he’s filling the gap between them with his body. She tugged his tie, “This is handy.”

He doesn’t have a chance to respond because she’s tugging it again to bring him back into another kiss. His hands don’t find themselves back on her face, instead they rest low on her hips and she’s happy with the progress he’s made in such a short amount of time.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere when the heels of her feet push into his thighs to press him flush against her. His hands tighten their hold on her hips, and she can’t resist the roll of her hips when his tongue found hers. His mouth is hot against hers and they find their rhythm as they exchange hot kisses. Her hands run up his chest, squeezing his shoulders and the muscles there before stationing themselves in his hair.

They parted to breathe but didn’t go far.

“The last few weeks have been torturously good.”

“And you didn’t question why it’d changed all of a sudden?” She’s not sure she’ll ever be over this.

“I thought I’d been imagining it all. You know, convincing myself something was different when it wasn’t. I was so sure.”

“It was frustratingly impressive. I’ve never seen you so composed.”

“I wasn’t. Well, I was around you but as soon as you were out of sight? I was a mess. You’re so sexy and alluring and well, you. The sun lotion almost broke me, you were so responsive under my hands.”

His jaunty, stiff walk came to mind when he’d scampered away after that and she tried not to laugh as a puzzle piece slotted in. “Sanji… were you turned on after that?”

He didn’t answer her verbally, but he did hide in her neck from embarrassment, nodding after a second.

She shouldn’t be pleased at that, she’d made him suffer, but well, she lapped it up. After what she had thought were failed attempts actually weren’t, it was nice to hear.

“Oh god,” he moaned, lifting his head from her neck as a thought came to him, “and the bath towel?”

Oh yeah. She’d forgotten about the bath towel.

That one had been an accident, not planned at all but she’d used it to her advantage. Well, tried to. She’d taken one step out of the steamy room after having accidently left her clothes in her room and bumped into Sanji who was leaving the toilet. It’d been short lived; he’d taken off before she could do anything, but his immediate reaction had been satisfying.

His hair had almost stood on end just at the sight of her, a hot flush colouring his neck and face. She’d wondered just how far that flush had gone down but she had been distracted by the look on his face. He’d looked like he wanted to devour her.

Kind of like now actually.

“The bath towel was a happy coincidence,” Nami assured him but it didn’t take the look off of his face.

He dived down to reunite their lips and this kiss was hurried, bruising and his hands squeezed her hips. Her hands tugged lightly at the strands of his hair and it was clearly the right move as his hips jumped against hers.

Oh.

He was hard.

It didn’t deter her, if anything she made sure to really emphasise the roll of her hips and he made a breathy sound that made her head light. Just like that, a switch had flicked on and they were barely kissing anymore as they grinded against one another, chasing the feeling caused from the friction. His hands finally slid under her dress, hands pawing at the flesh of her behind and helping her grind into him. The fabric of her dress was bunched just above her hips, but she didn’t care because he felt so good against her and her underwear was wonderfully thin.

A particularly good thrust, good angle, had them both moaning and it was way too hot in the kitchen for this. Distantly she wondered if they were missed outside, but it was pushed to the back of her mind almost instantly.

“Nami, we need to stop or I’m going to embarrass myself,” he panted, but his hips didn’t slow. A quick glance down confirmed there was indeed a wet patch on the front of his trousers.

“Sanji,” she gasped against is lips and became distracted when he licked at the corner of her mouth, “lose the pants.”

He groaned in the back of his throat, “I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

The boner pressed intimately against her disagreed.

“We don’t have to go all the way right now, there are other things we could do instead.”

At his confused look, she raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to catch on. When he still looked confused, she brazenly palmed him through his trousers.

“Oh! Oh!”

Apparently, there wasn’t a great deal of blood left in his brain.

She smirked at him and her fingers deftly started to work at the buckle on his trousers. When his hands pulled hers away, she almost moaned in displeasure but the smoky look he gave her stopped the sounds from tumbling out.

He held her hands in his, pressing a lingering kiss to the knuckles of one of her hands and then promptly dropped to his knees, face hovering between her legs.

“Ladies first.”

Outside on the lawn deck, Luffy was picking at what was left of the food on the table.

“Do you reckon Sanji has more of the octopus?” He didn’t wait for anyone to respond, “I’m gunna go ask him.”

Zoro just managed to snag the back of his top to stop him from going any further. “You’ll have to wait, eyebrow’s busy.”

“Huh? Busy with what?” Luffy turned to look at him, confused. “More octopus?!” He suggested, face lighting up at the thought.

“No. His balls finally dropped.”

Across from Zoro, Usopp laughed.

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

If I’m not shipping Zoro and Nami, they’re going to be bros. He totally has her back. Usopp’s always a bro, that’s just his default.

As always, please ignore any errors.

Thanks for reading.

#SaNami #SanNami #SanjixNami #SaNa #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #Nami #Sanji

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bestworstcase · 3 years

Text

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 9-10

it’s been a hot minute! previous installments here, in case you’d like to refresh your memory first.

- this chapter opens with rapunzel observing that cassandra is angry and concluding, correctly, that it’s because rapunzel followed her. i think this is a very interesting choice for howland to make. tts rapunzel is not like this. she often, particularly in s1, fails to notice when cass is frustrated with her and is startled when that frustration erupts into anger after repeated pushing. she is also generally quite bad at linking cause and effect together like this; she might recognize that cass is angry, but miss why. she stomps all over cassandra’s boundaries in large part because she doesn’t know any better. she can’t see how her behavior is hurting cass. but lagoon rapunzel does know better. she’s far more emotionally intuitive, and she can see right away that sticking her nose into cassandra’s business upsets cass, yet she will continue to do it. part of me wonders if this change is to facilitate the character growth lagoon rapunzel gets (which tts rapunzel does not)? it’s much easier, after all, to fix poor behavior if you’re able to see how it’s hurting people you care about.

- rapunzel here also observes that cassandra’s “eyes were wide and vulnerable,” indicating how afraid cass was of the water situation. cass denies that she was afraid when rapunzel asks her. this has a lot of similarities to how cass acts in fanon, cassunzel fanon in particular—outright denying her feelings, even when rapunzel accurately identifies them. and i know i’m beating a dead horse here, but tts cass is not like this. tts cass readily expresses her feelings to rapunzel—except when she thinks rapunzel isn’t willing to listen to her. in COTB, her reticence with rapunzel comes on the heels of rapunzel doing something cassandra pleaded with her not to do. in RATGT, rapunzel outright tells her to ‘be okay with’ the way rapunzel treats her, and in RDO cass bottles up her feelings and refuses to talk until rapunzel forces her to. actively hiding her feelings is a behavior she develops after becoming friends with rapunzel, because rapunzel continually dismisses or ignores her feelings. this is probably not the last time i am going to harp on this over the course of this little reread. it’s a huge pet peeve of mine.

- re: romance novel: “I hadn’t seen Eugene since the night before. After Cassandra left my room, I sent Pascal to follow her. I instructed him to come get me if she went anywhere.” ksdkjf

- cassandra, of course, wants the lagoon to be their—or rather, ideally, her—little secret, because she’s decided this is the thing that will prove she’s ready for the guard. her approach to getting rapunzel on board with this secret-keeping is to imply that frederic and arianna might compromise corona’s national security if they are informed. i think this is very funny.

- (again, contrast this to what happens in tts: when cass begs rapunzel to keep their midnight excursion a secret, she explains her reasoning in detail, because tts cass knows how to communicate like an adult.)

- “It’s so…blue” jksdfl cass has a way with words huh

- i do not think ms howland knows what a lagoon is, because what she is describing is absolutely not a lagoon. it appears to be a cenote. i suppose ‘rapunzel and the lost cenote’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, though, does it?

- cassandra reveals that she doesn’t know how to swim. i will get into this in a moment.

- corona has 315 miles of coastline, according to ms. howland. for purposes of comparison, rhode island has around 380 miles of coastline. now! in addition to those three hundred odd miles of coastline, corona has 212 lakes, 121 ponds, 67 rivers, of which 17 are significant in size and let out into the sea. with some cursory research i haven’t been able to get a precise count of the number of freshwater bodies of water there are in rhode island, but wikipedia tells me that about 90% of the inland freshwater in the state is contained in 237 lakes and ponds, which is a bit less than corona’s 333 total lakes and ponds, so… assuming the other 10% of rhode island’s inland freshwater is contained in a few dozen smaller lakes and ponds, those numbers are quite close as well. and according to wikipedia, rhode island has 59 rivers, of which 17 are ‘considered major rivers either geographically or historically.’

there is not really a point to this digression except that i think it is interesting. rhode island is 1,214 square miles in size and based on the general closeness of these numbers i have decided to tentatively conclude that corona is meant to be roughly similar in size. let’s call it a nice even 1,250 square miles for the sake of ease and to account for the greater number of lakes and ponds.

this is quite a bit larger than the kingdom appears to be in tts—unless the kingdom is very lopsided and island city is situated within a couple dozen miles of the nearest border—but it’s also quite small for a country. (europe has a few very small microstates and city-states, but excluding those, the smallest country in europe is almost twice the size of rhode island).

for my own writing, i decided that corona was quite a bit larger than this—bitter snow corona is in the neighborhood of 13,125 square miles, of which about ⅓ was formerly saporia and another ¼ is the disputed territory/province of malinar, meaning saporia is/was about 4,375 square miles, malinar is about 3,288 square miles, and pre-conquest corona would have been about 5,462 square miles—but, if you’re writing fanfiction and looking for an approximate ‘canon’ size for corona, 1,250 sq miles is not a bad guess. just remember that that big old wall rapunzel’s so eager to get to the other side of has to be within about twenty miles of the island capital in order for horses to be able to comfortably get there and back in less than a day! so either the island has to be very near the nearest border, or the wall isn’t actually corona’s border but rather a defensive wall around the capital or something like that.

- now back to cassandra, and the matter of her inability to swim. i think, given that they live on an island and the generally high standards to which he holds his daughter, it beggars belief a little that the captain did not force the issue of her learning how. it’s a safety matter. if you live near water you need to be able to swim. but, fine, she has a phobia, whatever. it’s for the romance novel™

- but i hate this. i hate it. ms. howland expects me to believe that:

1 - cassandra hasn’t been in swimming lessons since she could walk

2 - cassandra’s phobia was so severe that the captain never forced the issue of her learning to swim, while living on an island

3 - rapunzel magically knows how to swim, because the three or four minutes she spent almost drowning in a slowly flooding cave and then being spat out into a river and dragged to the bank by eugene was sufficient for her to become a great swimmer.

4 - all it takes for cassandra to overcome her debilitating phobia of water is for rapunzel to spend maybe ten or fifteen minutes gently coaxing her into the water and teaching her how to tread water

5 - swimming in the lagoon with rapunzel then becomes one of cassandra’s most treasured pastimes, and

6 - merely a few months after this, cassandra is a strong enough swimmer to (in fitzherbert pi) DIVE INTO THE FUCKING OCEAN FULLY DRESSED WITH HER BOOTS ON in order to rescue shorty before he drowns.

and NO!!!!!! NO! THAT’S NOT HOW SWIMMING WORKS THAT’S NOT HOW ANYTHING WORKS!!

now i get it. i get it. this is a romance novel and the symbolism of rapunzel liberating cassandra from her fears and teaching her a valuable new skill that they bond over and becomes their shared special secret thing to do together is obviously powerful and a staple trope for the genre. but it makes so little sense for this to be a skill that rapunzel has but cassandra does not. it feels almost infantalizing of cassandra and aggrandizing of rapunzel. like… rapunzel is an exceptionally competent young woman, yes. but no she can’t fucking swim you can’t learn to swim from that one time you almost drowned in a FUCKING cave. fuck!

- i’m still on the first page of chapter 10 and i am steamed.

- “It’s amazing how fast you can pick something up when your life depends on it.” FUCK you, ms. howland. you don’t learn how to turn sommersalts or swim laps by almost drowning. at most you might teach yourself how to doggy paddle.

- this scene would have worked just as goddamn well on the romance novel front if cass were the one who knew how to swim and rapunzel desperately wanted to learn and made big sad puppy eyes until cass caved and agreed to teach her. like! ffs you could even squeeze in the phobia stuff - rapunzel freaks out when she gets to a certain depth because it throws her back to being in that cave and cass, who has plenty of experience dealing with her own panic attacks, is able to gently calm her down.

- but that would require ms. howland to allow rapunzel to be bad at something. grumble.

- i don’t think rapunzel is qualified to give cass exposure therapy.

- this is nitpicky but i’m annoyed. this is not how you clean plate armor. “First you hang your suit of armor up to make sure every piece is properly aligned and that there’s no rust” WHAT? it’s not… like, it’s not like a onesie. plate armor is a bunch of individual components tied or buckled to an arming doublet or, in some cases, to other pieces of plate. you can’t ‘hang up’ a suit of plate armor the way you’d hang up, like, a jacket. you can put the pieces together on an arming doublet that you’ve hung up on a dummy, but… why would you do that in order to clean it.

“Then you attach the foot coverings” gjksdfjk just… the mental image of cassandra painstakingly putting a suit of armor together on a fucking mannequin and buckling the sabatons to the greaves or what the fuck ever she means by this and trying to clean the set that way is destroying me

“Then you need to polish the chest plate, with a soft cloth, work in circles, going outward” okay yes but you’d do the cuirrass separate from the rest of the set and you’d do the inside too and cass ought to know the proper name for all of these pieces please it’s not hard

“The arms can be tricky because the joints” WHAT. for arms you’ve got, like, a pauldron (or spaulder and rondel), rerebrace, couter, vambrace, gauntlets. these are separate pieces. you clean them one at a time, inside and outside. does howland think you just… don’t need to clean the inside of a set of plate armor? does she think the inside isn’t just as if not more susceptible to rust as the outside? does… does she realize that you can take plate armor apart i am CONFOUNDED

WHAT is a “mouth cover” in this context. is she refering to a visor. hinged pieces like on an armet? does she mean a bevor? the bevor isn’t even part of the helmet aljksdflkjsfdj

cassandra refers to cuisses and greaves as “thigh plates” and “shin [plates]” respectively i’m die. she also completely skips the poleyns. i do not think this cass has ever cleaned a suit of plate armor in her entire life.

i am losing. my. mind.

- in the immediate aftermath of cass learning how to tread water i think rapunzel asks her more personal questions than she does in the entirety of tts itself. like, it’s almost jarring how much more interested both rapunzel and eugene are in cassandra as a person in this book than they seem to be in tts. compare this conversation to the way cass opens up to rapunzel in beginnings - here, it’s prompted by rapunzel asking questions, expressing interest in cassandra’s feelings and encouraging her by telling her she’s brave. in beginnings, rapunzel builds a pillow fort in cass’s room because she wants to force a bonding moment and cass, after initially trying to kick her out, relents and volunteers some personal information as a kind of apology for being hostile. the vibes are completely different, so different that it feels like i’m not even reading about the same characters.

- like can you imagine tts rapunzel saying something like “it’s your story, that makes it important” to cass? lmao

- cass reveals that she’s afraid of water because she got dragged out by the undertow at the beach when she was small, and her dad saved her and then got so mad at her that she remembers being as afraid of him as she was of the water. this is not unrealistic per se, but… if cassandra was as scared of her dad that day as she was of drowning, then… shouldn’t that have more of an impact on her relationship with him? like…he screams at her after she almost drowns and she walks away with this debilitating phobia of the water but zero lingering fear of him?

- this chapter has given me a headache

- re: romance novel: “Rapunzel gripped my hand. This time I didn’t flinch.” snrk.

#lost lagoon reread #rta #cassunzel #i know it's juv fic i KNOW but i -#the plate armor thing it kills me

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the-rad-pineapple · 3 years

Text

mercury

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Supernatural fanfiction: Post-canon fix-it fic. After they defeated Chuck, Dean locks himself in his room unable to deal with losing Castiel now that everything is over. Jack lost his powers in the fight against Chuck and follows Dean's example and locks himself in his room, leaving Sam to try and help them get back on their feet.

Words: 11k (first 1k included in this post)

Trigger warning: Thoughts of suicide and alcohol abuse.

The title “mercury” is based off of Imagine Dragons’ new album: Mercury – Act I. This album inspired this story. The chapter titles: Wrecked, It’s Ok, #1, Giants, Easy Come Easy Go, Follow You, and One Day are all songs from the album.

Here's a playlist I made for this fic if you're interested.

And Wrecked totally feels like it was written for Destiel to me.

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ao3

fanfiction

wattpad

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They won, but Dean feels emptier than ever. When they took on Chuck, the fight between him and Jack left them both powerless. It didn’t really feel like winning. Especially since Dean can tell Jack is having a hard time adjusting to being a human. Or whatever he is now. He’s just a kid stuck in an adult’s body. It’s fucked up, and Dean can’t handle it.

He’s managed to push aside all his feelings about Cas when they were still hunting fucking God. They all were. But now it’s over.

Dean felt numb the entire drive back to the bunker. Sam was sitting in the back of the Impala, checking on Jack. Dean didn’t even say a word. It was all too much. When they got back home, Dean locked himself in his room. The second he was alone in the quiet and the stillness of his room with his jacket with Cas’ handprint hanging on his chair, he lost it. It all came crashing down on him. He’s never cried harder.

It’s been days, and Dean’s only left his room to grab booze. His drinking has never been worse, but he doesn’t care. Honestly, the only reasons Dean hasn’t completely given up are Jack and Sam. He can’t off himself after all they’ve been through. And the visual of Sam walking into Dean’s room to find his corpse makes Dean nauseous. He won’t do that to his little brother.

Dean doesn’t even know how Jack is, but he can’t bring himself to go talk to the kid. Then he feels guilty for not checking up on him, so he drinks, and the cycle repeats.

He drinks to empty his mind and numb his feelings. He stares at the handprint on the jacket. The tv is always on to bring some noise into the deafening silence. He can’t stand to be alone one second with his thoughts.

Time has lost all meaning. It’s always been difficult to tell the time in the bunker where’s there’s nothing but hallways and florescent lights, but any last sense of time Dean has is gone. The alcohol has disoriented him enough to mess up his internal clock, and he doesn’t leave his bed. Sam checks on him every once in a while. He brings food, but he doesn’t say anything. Dean is grateful.

Dean is perpetually tired but also too wired to get any restful sleep. He’s created his own personal Hell, and he’s glad. He doesn’t deserve to be happy since he is the literal reason Cas is dead. He doesn’t deserve to be happy, because he has always treated Jack like shit and is continuing to do so. He doesn’t deserve to be happy, because everyone is better without him.

Dean stares hazily at the tv and finishes his beer. They’re running out of booze, and Sam isn’t restocking. He’s doing it on purpose, and Dean resents him for it. Dean tosses the can on the floor, where the rest of the cans and bottles lay. It’s filthy in here and probably smells. Dean can’t make himself care.

The door opens with a low creak. Dean doesn’t look. It’s probably Sam bringing him food. He knows it’s bad, because Sam has been bringing him burgers and milkshakes. He doesn’t deserve it.

There’s a pause, and Dean thinks he might’ve imagined hearing the door open, but then he hears it creak shut. Dean rubs his eyes with a sigh and looks over, expecting to see a plate with a burger on the ground, but Jack is standing there, watching him. One of his hands is on the door as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to be here. The kid is in dinosaur pajamas Dean bought him months ago. His eyes are puffy and blood shot. Parts of his hair are sticking up at jagged angles.

They lock eyes, and tears well up in Jack’s eyes. “I miss him.” Jack’s voice breaks when he says it, and he covers his face with his hands. His shoulders start shaking, and a terrible sob escapes him. Dean is across the room before he even realizes he’s moved.

Dean pulls Jack into a hug, and Jack clings onto Dean like he’s drowning and Dean is his lifeguard. Jack cries into Dean’s shoulder. Dean can feel the tears soaking through his shirt.

“I—” Jack begins then hiccups. He sucks in a shaky breath, but he doesn’t sound any more composed. “I was going to save him. After—” he hiccups again “—after we defeated Chuck I was going to bring him back.”

Dean holds him tighter, tears slipping down his face now.

“I should have done it before,” Jack sobs.

Dean finds himself pressing kisses into Jack’s hair. “Jack,” Dean says. It’s the first word he’s said in days. His voice is rough and ragged. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is!” He hiccups again. “I—” another hiccup “—I should have—” a third hiccup. The kid’s on the verge of hysteria.

“Okay, shh, shh, just take a minute,” Dean says softly. He rubs Jack’s back with one hand and runs his other through Jack’s hair.

Jack cries, and Dean isn’t sure how long they stay like that. Dean closes his eyes and lets his world become the kid. He blocks out the tv playing in the background. He blocks out the acrid smell of the days-old beer cans on his floor. He focuses on Jack’s warmth and holding him close.

Jack’s breathing finally settles down. He sniffs and swallows. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” Jack says it so quietly Dean almost misses it.

“In my room?”

“No. I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

Dean’s blood runs cold, and he kisses Jack’s head. He knows he should tell Jack not to think that way, but all he does is murmur, “Me either.” It’s probably the worst thing he can say, but he’s just too tired to think of anything else. He doesn’t have it in him to lie and make up some positive bullshit right now.

Jack’s suddenly laughing.

Dean blinks in surprise and pulls back far enough to look at Jack. Jack has tear tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are even more red and swollen than before. His hair is plastered to his face where he had been leaning against Dean, but he’s laughing.

Jack manages to compose himself for a second and says, “I don’t think Castiel would be very happy with us right now.”

It isn’t funny, but Dean laughs, too. It’s a little hysterical, but Dean can’t stop himself. “No, I don’t think he would.”

They both laugh again, and Dean pulls Jack back into an embrace. They eventually calm down, and Dean closes his eyes again.

“Dean?” Jack asks quietly. It’s tentative, as if Jack is bracing himself for something.

“Yeah?”

“Can…Can I sleep here tonight?” He sounds so small, and Dean is reminded that he is a literal three-year-old.

“Yeah, of course you can.”

Jack sniffles. “Thank you.”

Dean swallows. “You don’t have to ask, you know. You can always come to me.”

“Okay, Dean.”

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justheretobreakthings · 3 years

Text

Hold On Loosely

So, this was originally in the process of being written for a zine, but I wound up dropping out due to aphobia in the project. Which, well, sucked, and was one of the contributing factors of my less-than-great mood these past few days.

But, I wound up finishing the fic as its own thing, so I hope y’all enjoy. Have some pre-canon broganes fluff to lift the spirits.

Word Count: 2,545 Characters: Keith & Shiro Read on AO3 My house, my rules, my ko-fi

“Ooh, you know what looks good?” Shiro said, looking up from the table’s menu to grin over at Keith. “The chocolate lava cake. What do you say, you wanna split it with me?”

Keith shrugged, tilting his head to glance at the menu as well. He swallowed his bite of steak before slowly replying, “I dunno, it’s - it’s kind of expensive.”

“I told you, Keith, tonight’s my treat. Come on, if you don’t split it with me, I’ll just order it and eat the whole thing myself, and I will definitely get sick. So…”

“All right, fine, I’ll have the cake.”

“Great!” Shiro’s grin broadened as he waved their waitress down to place the order. “Every celebration needs cake,” he added to Keith as the waitress left. “Anyone who tries to limit it to birthdays is just close-minded.”

“I still don’t really think we, um, need to be celebrating,” Keith said.

Shiro huffed in mock exasperation. “Bud, your grades were great, you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I didn’t even get all A’s or anything. And I had a C in Professor Antonsen’s class - ”

“Keith, I assure you, her class is the hardest in the whole academy. Matt didn’t even get an A in it. Chin up.” Shiro reached across the table with his fork, the last bite of his salmon still on the tips of the prongs, and tilted Keith’s head up to look at him. “Hey. I’m really proud of you. I mean it. You did great work, and you deserve to celebrate.”

Keith stared at him for a moment, as though mulling his words over, then a tiny smile escaped him as he tilted his head down and ate the bite of salmon off of Shiro’s fork, too quickly for the latter to move it out of the way.

“Barbaric,” Shiro gasped. “Have you no manners at all?”

Keith just smirked, making a show of chewing loudly before he swallowed and said, “Still, we didn’t have to go somewhere all fancy like this. I would have been fine with just burgers or pizza or something.”

“Well, sure, but I was really in the mood tonight for a place with tablecloths, you know? It’s a big night.”

“They’re just grades.”

Shiro shrugged and set his fork down. “All right, time for me to confess. The reason I decided to go fancy is that we’re actually celebrating two things tonight.” Keith raised a brow, and Shiro went on. “I actually got some pretty big news today. And since Adam’s busy until tomorrow and my parents are in another time zone, you, my dear friend, get to be the first to celebrate it with me.”

“What is it?” Keith asked.

“Now, I will tell you, they’re not officially announcing this until Monday, so don’t go spreading the word to your classmates before then and ruining the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

“So if anyone asks, you don’t know anything about it, okay? You’re gonna be just as excited by the announcement as - ”

“Shiro,” Keith groaned. “Now you’re just doing this on purpose.”

“You caught me.” Shiro smiled. “So. Guess who has been officially selected as the youngest pilot ever to lead a Garrison exploration mission.”

Keith’s eyes slowly widened. “You - you got the Kerberos spot?”

“I got the Kerberos spot.”

“That’s awesome!” Keith breathed. “Holy - you’re going straight to the edge of the solar system! Oh my god, you’re gonna be in textbooks, Shiro! You’re gonna be, like, a legit historical figure. That’s huge.”

“We always knew Earth’s atmosphere couldn’t contain me forever,” Shiro said with a smirk. “So, you’ve managed to get settled into the Garrison pretty well by now? Fitting in with your class? I know you’re doing well grade-wise so…”

“I guess, yeah,” Keith said with a shrug. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Shiro said, waving his fork dismissively. “I’m going to be pretty busy for a while, is all, and then I’ll be gone for the mission after. Just wanna make sure you’re ready for that.”

“Oh.” Keith's smile flickered, the corners of his mouth drooping for half a second before returning to their place. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course I’m ready. I mean, I - I knew you were gunning for that spot on the mission, so it’s - so, yeah, you know, I knew this was coming. I mean obviously it was coming, you’re the best pilot in - you’re, um, you’re definitely - ”

“Keith?” Shiro raised his brow. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t really thought about, uh, what I would be, um - ” He drummed his fingers against the table, then moved to lift his knife and fork and start carving up what remained of his steak. “But that’s - that’s not important. It isn’t. We’re celebrating. And - and - and you got the Kerberos spot, and I got my grades, and that’s good, this is good news, it is, I’m happy! I’m happy for you. I’m very - ”

Gently Shiro reached across the table and laid his hand on Keith’s arm. “You’re starting to carve up your plate, there, bud.”

Keith blinked down at his knife, then, with a slow breath, he dropped the cutlery and pulled back. “Sorry. Sorry, I wasn’t… paying attention. Shit, hang on.” He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and mumbled, “I’m okay. I’m fine. Got a little… overwhelmed… by the good news. Just need a minute to, uh, to process.”

“Everything all right here?” came a soft voice behind Shiro’s shoulder, and he jumped in his seat, banging his knee on the table and whipping his head around to see their waitress, their cake in her hands and her face apologetic. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Shiro said. “You’re fine. Thanks, it looks delicious.”

“Can I, uh, get you anything else?” the waitress asked, glancing toward Keith who was hastily trying to scrub at his eyes as she set the cake down on the table. “A drink refill or… some tissues, maybe?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Shiro replied. “Uh, take your time with the check, please.”

The waitress nodded and hurried from the table. Keith, meanwhile, pushed his chair back, his head down and hair falling into his face as he mumbled, “I think I need the restroom…”

“Hey, hang on,” Shiro said, holding out his arm again as Keith stood. “Keith… you know, it’s okay if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Keith snapped.

“Uh-huh. I’ve told you before, bud. If you’re upset - or any other emotion - ” He added when Keith opened his mouth to protest - “You can tell me. I’m not gonna judge you for it, you’re not gonna be punished. It’s not good to bottle things up. Come on, talk to me.”

“It’s… nothing,” Keith said. He sighed and collapsed back into his chair. “It’s stupid. Sorry, I’m ruining tonight, aren’t I?”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“Yes I am. You took me out to celebrate and I’m freaking out on you and raining on your parade and - and I should be happy about this. I am happy about this, I’m happy for you, so there’s - there’s nothing even to talk about.”

“Mmm.” Shiro tapped a finger thoughtfully against the edge of the cake plate. “You know, you’re allowed to feel more than one thing. You can be happy for me and still be upset. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Sure, but - ”

“Want me to start?”

Keith frowned. “Start what?”

“Sharing.” Keith still looked just as baffled, so Shiro continued. “I’m thrilled about the news, and I’m excited about the upcoming Kerberos trip, and I’m really proud of myself for having made it this far, especially so early in my career.”

“You should be,” Keith said with a fervent nod.

“But I’m kinda freaking out too. It’s a lot of pressure and responsibility, and I’m scared of messing up. There’s a ton of prep work that has to be done before the mission, which is going to be stressful and exhausting. And the mission is going to last for months, so I don’t know how claustrophobic or homesick or lonely I’ll get. I know I’m going to miss you. You, and Adam, and everyone else on Earth.

“I’m happy, yeah, but I’m all those things too. It’s a lot. But, I gotta admit, putting it all out there, out loud, it’s a bit of a relief. It’s on the table instead of on my shoulders, so now I don’t have to think so hard about what I’m dealing with, I can move on to actually dealing with it. And now it’s your turn”

Keith paused before saying, “I feel like you missed your true calling as a psychologist.”

“I’m young, I’ve got time to chase a bunch of callings. No changing the subject.”

Shiro waited patiently as Keith fidgeted in his chair, chewing at his bottom lip and focusing intensely on the dishes in front of him. Finally, though, he spoke up, so softly that Shiro had to strain to hear him: “I guess I’m… not ready… for you to go.”

Slowly Shiro nodded. “That’s understandable, Keith. I - ”

“It’s not, though,” Keith bit out. “It’s not like I haven’t been on my own before, right? And, hell, I’m a couple years off from being an adult, I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t still be - and it’s selfish, right? This is, like, your dream, Shiro, and all I’m thinking about is how I’m gonna - how I’m - ”

“Hey, hey,” Shiro said, keeping his voice low and soothing as he watched Keith bunch up the edge of the tablecloth in his fists. “It’s not selfish. Okay? I don’t want you thinking that for a moment. It’s you feeling your feelings, and there’s nothing selfish about that. If you were selfish, you wouldn’t be nearly so concerned about how your reaction is making me feel, right?”

Keith only shrugged. “And Keith, what’s this about being on your own?” Shiro continued. “Me being gone doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”

“It - it kinda does,” Keith mumbled. “I, um, I - I may have exaggerated, a bit, um, how I’m fitting in with my classmates.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “Are those other pilots still giving you a hard time? If they are, we need to go to your CO, file a report.”

Keith shook his head. “No, they aren’t - there haven’t been any other incidents or anything, just - I’m still not really - I’m not part of the group or anything. We have classes together, but that’s all. And you know I can’t get an ‘Adam’ of my own, I’ve - I told you about that, about how I don’t - so I don’t have friends, I don’t, not really. And I definitely don’t have a ‘partner’ or whatever, so that just leaves family, and - well, that’s you. Just you. That’s all I’ve got. And so if you’re gone…”

He let out a sniff and wiped his nose with the tablecloth. There was only so much the Garrison could do to instill table manners into their cadets. “Forget it. Like I said, it’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing, Keith,” Shiro said. “That’s… that’s fair. That’s fair and valid and I’m glad that you told me.”

“Kinda ruined the whole ‘celebration’ vibe, though.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to celebrate before the mission. I, um - did - were you always worrying about this? The whole time I’ve been applying for the Kerberos spot?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really thinking about it. Was trying not to, you know? It, um, wasn’t important.”

“When am I ever going to finally convince you that your worries are important?”

“More important than Kerberos?”

“Equally.”

Keith snorted. “Shiro - ”

“You know, in the coming months I’m gonna be spending a lot of time preparing for the mission. Maybe we should come up with a game plan so you can do the same.”

“Shiro, you barely managed to convince the Garrison to let me into the academy, you’re never gonna convince them to let me join the mission.”

“Much as I’d love to have you, that’s not what I meant,” Shiro said with a little smile. “I meant that while I’m getting ready to go to Kerberos, we can get you ready to stay on Earth. We’ll go through the things you’re worried about, the things that you need to prepare for, and we’ll start planning for them.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, okay, you’re worried about being lonely while I’m away. So let’s plan for that. We can talk to Adam, and Colleen, make sure you’re able to turn to one of them if you need anything at all. And we can even schedule some weekends out, get you some vacation from the Garrison to wind down. If you’re worried about keeping up with schoolwork while I’m around, we can contact your instructors to let them know, maybe see about any extra credit work you can do while I’m gone.”

Keith nodded slowly. “Okay. And, um, if I’m worried about… you know…” The tips of his ears went red as he mumbled, “Missing you?”

Shiro resisted the urge to tease him about the blush of embarrassment and instead broadened his smile. “I’m gonna miss you too, you know. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?” Keith bit his lip, and Shiro would bet any amount of money that it was to hold back a smile. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll make sure to get a ton of pictures together before I go, for starters, and I can let you babysit my hoverbike while I’m gone.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open. “You’ll let me be in charge of your hoverbike?”

“Promise not to crash it?”

“I… can’t make that promise.”

“Promise you’ll try not to crash it?”

“That I can do.”

“I’ll take it. So we’ve got a plan in place, and we have plenty of time to come up with more. And if it helps, I swear, I’ll come back from Kerberos as soon as I possibly can. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Do you need a hug too?”

“No,” Keith said, spreading his arms out to accept one anyway. Shiro scooted his chair around the table to embrace him, rubbing Keith’s back as the latter sighed into his shoulder, and he didn’t let go of the hug until he felt Keith finally pull away.

“Now,” Shiro said, scooting back into place. “This cake has just been waiting to be eaten, and we should really help out.” He nodded toward Keith’s dessert fork . “Come on, I’ve seen the memes, I know you love cake.”

Keith let out a breath of a laugh as he lifted his fork and started to cut off a piece from the cake. “If you’d seen all the memes, you’d know I also love pizza.”

“Well, in a few years, when we’re celebrating you getting your first big mission and breaking the youngest-pilot record, we can go out for pizza instead. Deal?”

“Deal.” They both took their first bites of the cake at the same time, and Keith rolled his eyes as Shiro made a show of moaning in contentment at the taste. “By the way,” Keith said as he moved in for his second bite, “I really am happy for you. Cadet’s honor, I am.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Shiro said with a grin. “I’m happy too.”

#vldgen #vld fic #keith #shiro #broganes #my writing #fic: hold on loosely

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

Note

Mista Whump headcanons? I loved his chapter in the dadbacchio fic!

Hi! I’m glad you’re liking Communication Breakdown so far, the new chapter should be out once I’m done with my Halloween stuff! <3

//content warning for whump-related shit (sickness, major injury, etc..)

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I feel like I should just shove in my pre-established headcanons that I always have for Mista before I start like what I did for my man Jonathan:

-Oldest in the family and (ironically) has four younger sisters!

-His parents worked a LOT growing up so he was often treated as the third parent growing up, doing almost everything for them in search of their approval

-It made him very responsible, but it also made him feel like he had to be responsible for everything and everyone

-That mindset followed him to where he is now; no matter how relaxed he seems to be, there’s always a feeling in the back of his head that he has to manage everything and be responsible for everyone’s safety and health

-Loves physical affection but would rather die than be an “active burden” on anyone

-Not in any form of contact with his family since he went to prison (and misses them a lot) ;(

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Pain Tolerance

-Getting shot? Been there, done that. Kidnapped and interrogated? He can hold off for a surprisingly long amount of time. Drugged? Barely even phases him.

-We all know he probably has the highest pain tolerance in the entire team

-Partially because it seems like he always gets hurt no matter what he’s doing

-I headcanon him as the oldest in his family so he was always brought up to have really thick skin and was always thought to be the most responsible growing up

-His parents were working all the time, so that meant he had to take care of his siblings whenever they were hurt

-But meant when he was injured as a kid, he had to deal with it himself :/

-When he first joined the gang, it was:

1) weird not being the oldest, and

2) really weird having people actually worried about you when you got hurt

-Even with Giorno having Gold to help them out all the time and Giorno insisting that its literally his stand’s purpose, he still feels this weighted guilt every time he needs someone else’s help

-Our man acts all whiny about it but truthfully, if he was given the option, he would much rather ride it out on his own or deal with things himself :(

Injury

-In all honesty, he’s probably one of the only members of the team that wouldn’t be opposed to going to a hospital

-Whereas Bruno or Narancia would be fucking terrified of stepping foot in one again for obvious reasons, the rest of the gang are just pretty stubborn about it

...

-He tends to be overdramatic most of the time when he gets hurt, but you can tell when something is really hurting him when he’s absolutely silent

-It’s almost the opposite of his other team members; most of them get uncharacteristically loud and panicky when they’re in serious serious pain but it's almost like his brain just completely shuts down

-He gets so quiet that he’s basically unresponsive and his body keeps trying to numb itself as the pain gets worse and worse

-It always bites him in the ass later when his state starts wearing off and all the pain his body was blocking out comes back tenfold and it's just OUCH

...

-Mista’s a pretty touchy guy. He practically lives off human contact

-Except when he’s hurt.

-His body kicks into this weird overdrive where he wants no one to touch him and he’s just supposed to deal with it himself

-Idk how accurate this actually is in canon but I headcanon that Gold Experience’s healing methods don’t actually hurt that much, it's actually pretty soothing for most people

-The reason Mista always freaks out whenever Gold is healing him is because of his weird defense mechanism that kicks in when he’s hurt

Sickness

-His chapter in Comm Break was pretty much just a sickfic because I decided to give him appendicitis, but I have other headcanons hehehe…

-I was actually going to make him lactose intolerant in the first draft and the chapter being about him having no fucking idea why he was sick and Abbacchio just being like “...dude...”

-I eventually dropped it for something with similar elements but more of a dramatic plot, but I still like the headcanon that he’s too dumb to know that getting sick all the time after eating dairy just isn’t normal

...

-He loves taking care of other people because it reminds him of taking care of his sisters; like he’ll be willing to do anything and he’s a master at making people feel better :)

-But him?

-Oho,,,he fuckin hates being sick >:)

-Maybe not Giorno in The Unknown levels of hatred, but the fact that everyone does nothing but makes sure he’s okay the entire day gives him this warm, fluffy feeling in his chest that MAKES HIM EMOTIONALLY CONFUSED because no one ever gave a shit about him pre-passione

-Is he the type of person to completely deny any feeling of ailment until it’s definitely too late? YES. DEFINITELY.

-Usually it's one of the bucci gang who will figure out he’s under the weather before he does.

“You’re looking a bit pale...”

“Nope.”

“Are you feeling alright? You don’t look so good.”

“Totally fine!”

-He’ll refuse to rest until he passes out, is pressed up against the tiles on the bathroom floor, or someone (usually Bruno) shoves a thermometer in his mouth and proves that he absolutely HAS to

-Give him some medicine and he’ll pass out for HOURS. All he’ll do is sleep because he wants to get over it as soon as possible

Emotional Stress

-Mista’s like an open book when it comes to most emotions

-You might not know when he’s hurt, but you’ll sure as well know when he’s sad or stressed

-He’s not afraid to cry, and even though he probably won’t tell anyone why he’s sad, bottling up his emotions was just something that he was never prone to doing

-Bruno’s gotten used to finding him in the kitchen at 3am waiting for his bread to toast and there’s just tears and Bruno’s like “...Meesta ;-;”

-but then there’s hugs so it's ok :,)

-Also Mista is definitely the type of person to just kind of slink into a room and have someone be like “what’s up?” and he’s like “I’m feeling fucking terrible!! :))))” and before they can even reply BOOM WATERWORKS-

-He’s ultimately not ashamed of it because it helps keep him regulated in the long run (and the homies are always willing to provide him with that good comfort) :)

This sad shit is the exception though…

-When he’s with the bucci gang, he’s not afraid to let his emotions run wild sometimes because he knows it’s always little things to keep him chill

-Not about this, though. Because he actually considers this big

...

-Mista has eternal homesickness for his family.

-His parents, his sisters, his uncles and aunts and cousins.. they all cut contact when he went to prison

-It wasn’t a huge fight, but a slow burn of distancing from each other.

-He misses them so damn much. He misses his childhood home, and the way his Madre would cook, and the stupid shit his sisters used to do...

-It comes and goes in waves; most days the feelings don’t hit him but sometimes, especially on holidays, birthdays of his family members, and even his own birthday, it hits hard.

-Normally when something’s bothering him he doesn’t see a problem in just talking or venting to someone

-But with this it's different because he knows if he starts talking about it, it’ll just be uncontrollable and he’ll be a fucking mess if he even tries

-Mista, despite his demeanour, is extremely good at hiding his feelings when he has to ;-;

-He’s too embarrassed to tell anyone, so he spends a lot of those days curled up in his room, sobbing into his pillow

-Even on holidays, when it’s hard to celebrate at all, he manages to hold it in until celebrating is over

-He knows they all suspect something is up, but he also knows that they won’t push him to say anything

-They can all tell he gets fragile certain times of the year, so they try their best to be extra soft with him when he does decide to come out and spend time with them <3

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I really do love writing for Mista. I should do it more sometimes!!

Got a headcanon you want fulfilled? Askbox is open!! <3

#jjba #jjba headcanons #ask-c-c-cherry #guido mista #whump #headcanons #jojos's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #vento aureo #hurt/comfort

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scullysexual · 4 years

Text

Time Can Heal (9/ )

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | AO3 |

Mulder realises his request for the truth costs too much.

Tagging: @today-in-fic @bevh78 @mypanicface @weseeusinthefall @impulsive-astrophile @enigmaticxbee

This is probably my favourite character I’ve written so far!

- - -

Mulder’s apartment in Minneapolis is a lot bigger than the one in Virginia. Bigger apartments costs less here, he tells her but Dana already guessed that.

“Want something to drink?” Mulder asks as he heads towards the kitchen.

Dana shakes her head, hanging her coat up on the rack.

“Suit yourself,” says Mulder disappearing through the doorway.

Dana surveys the room. In many ways it’s a similar layout to the one back in Hegel Place; couch against the wall, TV opposite it, coffee table in the middle. The only thing missing is the fish tank, the fish given to the Lone Gunmen maybe.

She feels a tug in her chest at the absence of the fish. If they were here, maybe she could believe nothing had changed.

She does manage a smile, however, upon seeing a blanket folded on the back of the couch and the pillow tucked between the wall and the armrest.

Not everything changes.

“Still haven’t got a bed?” she asks when Mulder re-enters the living room carrying a glass of orange juice in one hand and a bag of sunflower seeds in the other.

Mulder shrugs and takes his place on the far side of the couch. Dana stays standing, watching as he places his drink and snack down and pulls out the report.

She plays with the strap of her bag and watches. Mulder thumbs through bits of papers, past autopsy photos and eye-witness accounts. It dawns on her in this moment that apartment visits were rare. Work would be done alone in their respective homes or together in their office. He came to her apartment more times than she ever went to his and in this moment she feels like a stranger, her eyes casting across the TV unit to the VHS’s stacked in a pile, bits of clutter that cover his desk and coffee table, unwashed dishes in the sink. All evidence of a man who lives alone. All evidence of someone who is lonely.

“You can sit down,” Mulder’s voice cuts through her thoughts. Her attention is brought over to him by the sound of it, he’s looking at her smiling. “I don’t bite,” he jokes.

It eases her how comfortable he is around her, even after all these months. It’s like nothing has really changed for him. Time apart, a bumpy start, but she is still his Scully, his partner, ready to crack jokes with any time, ready to infuriate with his theories or look at her with concern when he knows something is bothering her.

She begins to see his leaving her in a different light. It was his quest after all, he must feel some guilt towards everything that happened to her.

The movement is spontaneous, an action before the thought. Mulder would often ease his way into her personal space, touch her arm, touch her hand to get her attention. Dana’s always tried to maintain a sense of professionalism, they were co-workers before they were friends, two agents before they were people. A hand through his hair to check for injury but nothing more.

Now her hand lands on his knee, the feel of it having Mulder’s attention diverted from folder to his knee, to her.

Dana wills herself to keep it there, tells herself that it is nothing more than him in her personal space or touching her arm.

“I don’t blame you,” she tells him. “For the abduction. It wasn’t your fault.”

For extra sincerity she squeezes his knee before bringing it away and reaching into her bag to pull out her laptop.

“I always…” Mulder begins and she turns her head towards him again, halting her action of switching on the computer.

He’s searching for the words.

“I blamed myself for it,” he admits not quite looking at her. “I thought I should’ve done more to protect you. I thought you were really gone.” He looks away completely now, putting the folder down to stare at his hands instead. “My mom always said she didn’t blame me for Samantha but I could see it…in her eyes. And when you were gone…I saw it again in your mother’s.” He chances a glance at her before adverting his eyes away again. “And I always thought I saw it in yours.”

Dana begins furiously shaking her head. She can’t speak on behalf of her mother, on behalf of his, but she can speak on behalf of herself.

She reaches for his forearm, bringing his eyes back to her.

“I’m sorry I made you think that,” she says willing her gaze to make him believe. “It was never true.”

“It was Duane Barry’s fault,” Mulder says, his tone having a hint of scepticism behind it.

“Yes, it was,” Dana confirms, her voice strong. “Nobody else’s.”

It has some affect on him and Mulder begins to nod. He reaches back for the folder and takes out the profile he wrote, handing it her way. She goes to take it but he doesn’t quite give it away.

“Are you sure you’re okay reading it?”

This case still shook her, for reason she didn’t quite want to think about, but she was here to do a purpose and that purpose was to bring justice to the victims- dead or alive.

“I have a job to do,” she answers, taking the report from him.

Mulder nods but he doesn’t quite believe her.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“You amaze me,” Scully says after a while of just staring at him. Mulder takes a swig of his beer as he waits for her to continue.

A while has passed, the awkward murky beginnings long gone. They ordered food, he even convinced her to have a beer. Their reports and file lay on the coffee untouched. Scully sits in the gap between the couch and table, legs crossed and rolling the neck of the bottle back and forth between her fingers. He’s never known her to be so…relaxed.

Scully had been concerning him lately. He was worried for her, it’s not like her to run out of rooms after all.

Of course, the case was a difficult one, nobody should be expected to walk into something like this and not react, especially somebody as green as her but underneath all that Mulder was certain there was something else.

“It’s just…” she continues and shakes her head as if to discourage herself from saying anymore.

“No,” says Mulder with a chuckle. “Tell me. What were you gonna say?”

She moves onto her side, resting her arm on the seat of the couch and her head in her hand, looking at him.

“Okay,” she starts. “For arguments sake, why isn’t it aliens? Why is it not some…hair devouring slug that preys on dead people?”

He leans closer to her with false curiosity and a smirk.

“Do tell me more about this hair devouring slug theory of yours.”

She punches him in his leg and rolls her eyes. Her weak attempt has him falling into fits of laughter which just leads to frustrate her more, her eyes narrowing and a cute little pout forming on her face.

“I will shoot you.”

He doesn’t think she’s joking.

Mulder brings himself to stop laughing and goes back to his upright position. He plays with the label on the bottle as he talks.

“Certain cases have a distinct smell to them.” He shrugs. “This one doesn’t.”

“This one, out of 40 other cases, doesn’t have a distinct smell?”

Mulder chuckles again. “They’re rare but it’s been known to happen.” He glances her way. “What do you think? Do you think it’s a hair devouring slug?”

Scully grows sombre. She places her beer on the coaster on the table and hoists herself up onto the seat next to him.

Without looking at him, she mumbles, loud enough to for him to hear. “I’d like it to.”

“Why is that?” he asks as quietly as she spoke.

Mulder watches as she takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Because it’s easier to believe that monsters and aliens are the only ones capable of these things.” She looks down at her hands, fingers tangling together. “Not other human beings.”

She pulls her hands away to sit beside her, her head pointed towards the ceiling as she lets out a deep sigh.

“Scully, Duane Barry—”

“Duane Barry was insane!” Mulder feels himself physically jump back at the loud tone of her voice.

“You think it wasn’t aliens.” He realises.

“I know it wasn’t aliens.”

He looks at her with amazement.

“Scully, how? How do you know? Your memories…are they returning?”

He watches as her eyes shut almost immediately, her face crunching up as if she’s trying not to see what she’s seeing. When he looks down at her hands, the one closest to him is balled into a tight fist.

He reaches out to hold her hand, to comfort her through whatever it is she’s remembering but the moment he makes the slightest bit of contact, she’s jumping; eyes bursting open, vaulting her hand away.

“Scully—”

But she’s off the couch before he can finish his sentence.

“It wasn’t aliens.” She looks around the room, trying to remember where she is. Her eyes land on her laptop and folder and she rushes to pick them up.

“I need to go,” she says beginning to pack her stuff away.

But no, she can’t go, she’s remembering. Remembering her abduction or remembering something.

“Scully,” Mulder starts, getting up from the couch himself and walking towards her, trying to stop her from packing away her things.

“Stay,” he says. “It’s late, you don’t even have your car.”

She pauses at that, realising, before she shakes her head and resumes her task.

“I’ll book a cab.”

Mulder has nothing more he can say to her. Nothing more that wouldn’t make him sound like a selfish bastard for trying to get her to stay. Instead he nods and heads towards the telephone.

“Let’s get you back to your partner, eh,” he tries to joke but it lands flat. No response from Scully.

They fall to silence. Scully packed away and standing by the door in her coat. Mulder on the phone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks when the call is over and her taxi is booked.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She turns to leave and Mulder busies himself with tidying up.

“Mulder,” she calls and he stops what he’s about to do. Maybe, just maybe…

“You’ll always be my partner,” she says instead.

It’s not what he wanted but it warms his chest up anyway. A slight smile crawling it’s way across his face.

“And you’ll always be mine,” he answers back.

It earns him a smile of his own before she turns and disappears through the front door.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She tosses her bag onto the bed as she enters, unconcerned for the contents inside it. She kicks off her heels, leaving them in a heap at the foot of her bed and heads towards the bedside drawer.

Just as her hand touches the pack of cigarettes and lighter, there’s a knock at her door. Dana rolls her eyes, slamming the rickety drawer shut and marches her way towards the door.

“What do you want?” she asks upon opening.

Davis leans against the doorframe.

“Not a nice way to greet your partner,” he says. He barges his way into the room and Dana is not in the mood to deal with this right now.

“We’re not partners,” she retorts, closing the door. There’s a thought to keep it open but no, her gun is at her side. She’ll use it if she has to. There’s no reason for the door to stay open.

Davis sits on the edge of the bed and studies her.

“Where have you been?”

“Excuse me?”

“First time I’ve heard the door go all night. Where have you been?”

“What’s it to you?” She crosses her arms in front of her.

“I’m your partner,” Davis answers. “Do I not get to know where you’ve been?”

She’s too exhausted and angry to deal with this. She wants him out.

“Please go.”

But Davis is up quicker than she thought he would be. He moves towards her and she flinches, moving herself, her lower back colliding with the edge of the desk and sending a brief bout of shooting pain rippling through her nerves.

She let’s out a surprise breath.

“Alcohol,” Davis observes. He backs out of her personal space and Dana feels her heart beating loudly against her chest. “Drinking during a case is grounds for suspension,” he tells her as if he’s a follower of the book.

“I wasn’t drinking,” she argues. “It was one beer.”

“With Spooky?”

Her face gives her away.

Davis smirks. “So now you’ve come back all pissed off. What happened? Spooky got you all hot and horny then left you out to dry?”

The unexpected crudeness of his words shocks her, a small gasp falling out of her mouth before she regains herself. Her eyes turning to steel, she asks:

“Is there something you wanted, Davis?”

He does nothing to hide the leering look he gives it. A cold chill runs down Dana’s body, her stomach and throat tightening. She tries her hardest not to let these reactions show to Davis.

“Nothing you could give me,” he says. “I’ll show myself out,” he calls backs as he walks to the door and Dana feels the urge to throw the nearest thing to her at the back of his head.

Once he’s gone, she runs over to the door and locks it. With no adjoining door and Davis’ room one down from hers she feels safer knowing there’s no real way he could enter.

With her unwanted visitor gone, Dana resumes her task. She grabs the cigarettes and lighter and stalks over to the window, yanking it up and hurrying to light the cigarette.

Her anger slowly drifts away with the smoke. What wound her up, she’s unsure. Maybe Mulder’s pushing? Her outburst was sudden but she knew what he was going to say about Duane Barry.

Aliens didn’t take him, Mulder. I think, deep down, you know that.

Her memory had been just as sudden as her outburst. They’ve never came to her conscious before. There was a light and men were talking. It was briefer than her dreams- or felt briefer- less paralysing.

Aliens didn’t take me, either.

She flicks the cig away, watching it falls down towards the street below and debates having another one.

Instead, she brings her head back inside, shuts the window, and decides sleep would be the better course of action, the time already approaching midnight.

She drops her bag onto the floor, strips herself of her clothes, leaving them in a heap at her feet. She takes the t-shirt she packed, her usual silk pyjamas at home needing to be washed (a task Dana hadn’t had much energy for anymore) and climbs into the bed, foregoing anything else, telling herself she’ll deal with it tomorrow.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She knows it’s happening before it’s happening.

A weight on her chest. Her body frozen.

It’s dark, at first, much like it is when she wakes up in the night and her eyes have yet to adjust.

Then there’s a burst of bright, white light coming to life. Her eyes shut tight in response to it before they slowly open again.

She tries to move, to sit up, but when moves her eyes, wire is binding her wrists, pinning her down. Panic begins to grip her, her heart beating wildly against her chest. Instinct tells her to clench her fist but the best her finger can do is tap frantically against her palm.

There’s the sudden sound of movement near her feet and Dana chances a look down with her eyes.

She’s spread-eagled on the table, the way they had her during the experiments.

She tries to fight against her restraints but she can’t move, the binds too tight it begins to cut into her skin of her wrist. The gasps at the deep red blood against the pale white of her skin as it begins its descent downwards, pooling below.

There’s heavy breathing, not coming from herself, and when she moves her eyes to the other side a yelp is released from her mouth, her body growing cold as a devil stands over her, his skin as red as her blood.

He leers at her body, eyes moving south before he begins to follow. Dana follows him, her eyes trained on him as she fights to control her breath, fights to even breath. She swallows and gulps when his red arm slowly begins reaching towards her ankle. His finger is cold when it touches her skin, sending shiver up and down her body and gooseflesh forming.

She tries to fight it off but just as like her wrists, are ankles are restrained, too. Unable to run, unable to fight, she shuts her eyes as the devil man’s finger begins tracing up her leg, a hand joining when he reaches her knee.

He moves to the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and fear grips her, her eyes shooting open, darting towards him.

“Please…” she just about manages yet the devil’s hand still makes his way towards that place.

He looks at her, sadness or pity in his eyes and, with his other hands, reaches out to brush a tear away from her face with a finger. With the other, he strokes her outer lips.

Her body reacts, begins to respond and Dana wants to cry and scream and run. She begins fighting against the restrains again, not caring for the pain as they cut deeper into her wrists. Maybe it will snag a vein and she will die, ending all of this.

She stiffens and stops at the feeling of a finger entering her. The devil man is looking away from her now, focused on his task and there is nothing Dana can do to stop him.

She stills, facing her fate, facing the fact that this is about to happen, that they’re about to take something else from her, as well. Her eyes loll to the side, vision blurring as all sensations but the sensation of the weight upon her all fall away.

In her clouded vision, a figure approaches, the smell of cigarettes, and a voice.

“What are you doing?”

Mulder…

Dana blinks a few times, forcing her eyes to remain open but her vision is still blurry.

“She is mine,” Mulder says.

“Mul…Mul…der…”

Mulder’s face approaches hers, his hand in her hair stroking.

“Shh…” Mulder says. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

#txf #txf fic #season 2 #canon divergence #abduction arc #irresistible fic #time can heal 9 #i write

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advena87 · 4 years

Text

Aiden & Lambert’s love story because we deserve more than one and we didn't get any (at least not in canon). Long Post!

check out also Kaer Morhen Shenanigans

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story and… this.

I love playing with incorrect quotes. The ones below are already used a few times in Kaer Morhen shenanigans, but I modified and changed them, and added a lot of new ones.

So the idea is that young witchers from the griffin and cat schools come to Kaer Morhen - including Coen and Aiden. The purpose of the visit is for aspiring witchers to learn something from each other, and in fact it’s just an excuse to play with the idea of Lambert x Aiden. Of course, Lambert’s witcher brothers will try to help him with his crush, and they will not miss the opportunity to make fun of him.

The setting is like this because the idea that Geralt, Eskel and Berengar will be Lambert's wingmen is simply priceless. I know that this configuration had no right to happen in the canon, but the canon has hurt us more than once. That's why we always have to fix everything. And that's why Berengar appears in my posts. In my opinion he deserved it and you can't change my mind. And I think he and Lambert have so much in common that it's really a shame they never met in games. I think that they would have a beautiful dynamics of the oldest and youngest brother.

Anyway I hope you enjoy it! :)

Aiden: Hi, I am-

Lambert, shaking his hand: Handsome.

Aiden: -Aiden. And you are?

Lambert: Apparently not as straight as I thought I was.

***

Lambert: Can I ask a dumb question?

Berengar: Better than anyone I know.

Lambert: Is it gay to think about your best mate in the shower?

Berengar: …

Geralt: …

Eskel: …

Lambert: Asking for a friend.

Berengar: …

Geralt: …

Eskel: …

Lambert: But now seriously: I’m not gay if I wanna date Aiden as like bros, right?

Geralt: I’m no expert but that does sound kinda gay.

Berengar: I’m an expert. That’s gay.

***

Lambert: I swing both ways.

Lambert: Violently. With a sword.

Lambert: Also, I’m bisexual.

Lambert: … promise you won’t tell anyone?

Berengar: Your secret is safe with me. I wasn’t even listening.

*later*

Eskel: The printer messed up the invitations. It was supposed to say “Lambert’ birthday”.

Geralt: What does it say instead?

Eskel: “Lambert’ bi”

Berengar: Well that could still work.

Geralt: Wait, what? No, Lambert is straight.

Berengar: Trust me, he isn’t. The only straight thing he is gonna do is that he is gonna go straight to hell.

Eskel: Wait, Berengar, isn’t this thing between Lambert and Aiden supposed to be a secret?

Berengar: Hardly. The only people who don’t know Lambert loves Aiden are Lambert and Aiden. And Geralt for some reason.

***

Eskel: You and Aiden seem very close.

Lambert: We're just friends.

Berengar: Oh please, we all know you're a heartbeat away from getting his name tattooed on your ass.

***

Lambert: You look nice, I want to kiss you.

Aiden: WHAT

Lambert: I SAID IF YOU DIED I WOULDN’T MISS YOU

Berengar, behind Lambert's back, mouthing to Aiden: LIES

***

*Aiden and Coen talking and laughing*

Lambert: *staring at them silently*

Eskel: You’re really quiet today, Lambert.

Lambert: Nobody plans a murder out loud.

***

Lambert: Why does this griffin dude keep talking to you?

Aiden: Lambert, we are friends.

Lambert: I know you two are friends but…

Aiden, deadpan: No, Lambert, I meant you and I are friends.

Lambert: Yeah, we’re friends, but I’d fuck you if you asked.

Aiden: What?

Lambert: What?

Berengar, eating popcorn: He said he’d fuck you if you asked.

***

Lambert: Fuck, Aiden, you look like hell!

Aiden: Yeah? I just got back.

Lambert: Dude, who hurt you?

Aiden: Do you want a list or something?

Lambert:

Lambert: *grabs sword* Actually, yes.

Aiden: No, wait, we can’t solve all our problems with murder.

Lambert: How about just this problem?

***

Lambert: I think I might have a crush on Aiden…

Berengar: Congratulations, you’re officially the last one to know.

Geralt: Aiden would never date a jerk like you.

Lambert: Fuck you, shouldn’t I be one of your best friends?

Gerelt: Yeah, which is how I know you’re a jerk.

Eskel: So what are you going to do?

Lambert: I don’t know, something dramatic I hope.

Berengar: Oh for fuck’s sake, just ask Aiden out! What’s the worst that could happen?

Lambert: Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

***

Aiden: Can you ride?

Lambert: *looks at Aiden up and down* Yes.

Aiden: I meant the horse, Lambert.

***

Lambert: How do I politely ask him to slam me against a wall and make out with me?

Geralt: Lambert, it’s four in the morning, if you want to make out with Aiden just do it quietly, I don’t care how you ask him!

*next day*

Aiden: *hands Lambert a water bottle*

Lambert: *drinking it* Thanks, what’s it for?

Aiden: Geralt says you get thirsty around me.

Lambert: *chokes on water*

***

Lambert, smirking: So when are you gonna go out with me?

Aiden, smiling back: I don’t know, when are you gonna ask me out?

Lambert, freaking out: uhhh....

*later that day*

Berengar: So you ran away like a fucking coward?

Lambert: I DIDNT EXPECT HIM TO FLIRT BACK!!

***

Eskel: Why are you ignoring Aiden?

Lambert: I’m playing hard to get.

Geralt: Why would you do that? You’re already hard to want.

***

Eskel: I shouldn’t be interfering in this but give him a chance. Lambert would throw himself in front of a speeding horse for you.

Aiden: Lambert would throw himself in front of a speeding horse for fun.

Eskel: Ok, point taken, but don’t worry, he grows on you.

Aiden: Oh, really?

Eskel:

Eskel: No, actually, he just gets worse.

***

Aiden: I’m having problems with Lambert.

Geralt: Problems like ‘his dead body won’t fit in your cupboard’ or problems like ‘you like him’?

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Problems like ‘I like him’.

Geralt: Too bad, I could have helped with the other one.

***

Aiden: I have 4 friends.

Eskel: But there are 5 of us. Me, Geralt, Berengar, Lambert and Coen.

Aiden: Lambert is my special idiot.

Aiden: That’s different.

***

Aiden: Lambert, look me in the eyes and be straight with me.

Lambert: So… Do I look at you? Or do I be straight? I can’t do both.

***

Lambert: I’m in love with you.

Aiden: That’s… a terrible idea.

Lambert: Yeah, I have a lot of those.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Well then, let's try.

Lambert: Wait, does that mean you like me? For my personality?

Aiden: I know, I was surprised too.

***

Lambert and Aiden: *walk into the room together with happiness written on their faces*

Berengar: So who finally confessed?

Lambert: It was me, I made sure it was short and sweet.

Aiden: You yelled, “Listen here, you little shit, I have feelings for you and it’s about time you acknowledged them!” from the castle tower.

Lambert: It worked though.

Aiden: All in all, this may come as a surprise to you, but Lambert and I are dating now.

Geralt: Damn. Now I owe Eskel 20 crowns. You guys couldn’t have waited another week?

Lambert: Wait, what?

Eskel: You two just earned me 20 crowns is what, so thank you.

***

Aiden: When you're gay in your house with nobody else, you're homolone.

Lambert: When you're bi and there's nobody else around, you're biyourself.

Berengar: You're two morons.

***

Coen: So, you've already made friends with Eskel, Geralt and Berengar?

Aiden: Yeah.

Coen: Great, just a little advice - stay away from Lambert.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Lambert is my boyfriend.

Coen: Oh...

Coen: Um...

Coen: So, what's he like?

Aiden: Have you ever met a human version of a headache?

***

Coen, pointing at Lambert: Is this guy bothering you?

Aiden: Yeah, but he’s my boyfriend, I signed up for this

***

Aiden: You’re annoying.

Lambert: But you love me >:3

Aiden: Doesn’t make you any less annoying.

***

Lambert: *spills water on his shirt* Oh, what have I done? Now my shirt is all see-through.

Geralt: *rolls his eyes* And so are you. I know what you’re doing.

AIden: So do I, but I am enjoying the show immensely.

***

Lambert: Did it hurt?

Aiden, rolling his eyes: When I fell from heaven?

Lambert: No.

Lambert: When you fell for me.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Actually, yes. It’s hurts every day.

Berengar, from distance: BUUURN!

***

Coen: It’s so exhausting having a boyfriend! You’re lucky you don’t have one.

AIden: Actually, last time I checked I did have a boyfriend.

Coen: No, you have a Lambert. That’s not the same thing.

Aiden: What do you mean?

Coen: Well, he’s more like a puppy. Excitable, loud, always happy to see you, protective, and he bites anyone who threatens you.

Aiden: …

Aiden: Point taken.

***

Aiden: YOU’RE SO ANNOYING! I CANT BELIEVE IM DATING YOU!

Lambert: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOURE THE ONE WHO CHEATED!

Aiden: Because YOU cheated FIRST!

Lambert: YOU STUPID-

Eskel: I think we’re done playing gwent for tonight….

Geralt: Wait, no. I’m enjoying this.

Aiden: Don't you call me stupid!

Lambert: Okay, then how about 'bitch'?!

Aiden: Arrogant dick!

Lambert: Spoiled asshole!

Aiden: Fuck you!

Lambert: Fuck YOU!

Aiden: FUCK YOU!!!

Lambert: FUCK!!! YOU!!!

Aiden: ...

Aiden: My room, ten minutes.

Geralt: Okey... not what I expected.

Eskel: And we're done here.

***

Lambert: I have an idea, but I’m going to need your permission.

Aiden: Sudenly you need my permission? Why?

Lambert: Cause if I mess it up, I don’t want it to be just my fault.

Aiden: That sounds like a really risky and gay plan.

Lambert: So? You in?

Aiden: I thought it was an obvious answer.

***

Aiden: I want to hear those three little words.

Lamber: I love you.

Aiden: Try again.

Lambert: Fine.

Lambert: I will behave.

Aiden: :)

***

Aiden: Close your eyes and hold out your hand.

Lambert: I played this game once with my brothers and got slimed by a toad.

Aiden: It’s not a toad.

***

Lambert: I didn’t raise you to be like this.

Aiden: You’re my boyfriend. You didn’t raise me at all.

Lambert: And yet you still call me daddy.

Aiden: Oh for the love of-

***

Eskel: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Geralt: Weak. I sleep with a sword under mine.

Lambert: You’re both pathetic.

Berengar: What killer weapon do you sleep with then, Mr. Badass?

Lambert, proud and confident: Aiden.

***

Aiden: The food's too hot, I can't eat it.

Lambert: You're too hot and I still eat you.

Berengar: It's family moments like these that we will never forget.

Geralt: With a good therapist, hopefully I will.

Eskel: I'm not hungry anymore.

Vesemir: One dinner. ONE NORMAL DINNER!!

***

Lambert: *phone starts ringing*

Eskel: *looks at who is calling*

Eskle, laughs: So you call Vesemir 'daddy'?

Lambert: *answers call and makes direct eye contact with Eskel*

Lambert: Hey, Aiden.

Eskel: *chokes on drink*

***

Geralt: Okay Lambert, truth or dare?

Lambert: Truth.

Geralt, smirking: Why did you get kicked out of the brothel?

Lambert, looking absolutely horrified: Oh no…

Aiden, whipping his head around so fast Eskel almost shits himself: You fucking what?!

Lambert: Look, you can’t be mad at me! I was just there, minding my own business-

Aiden: We both know that’s a load of crap, Lambert, you’re lying!

Lambert: Does this look like the face of a liar?

Aiden: You really don’t want to hear my thoughts on your face right now.

Lambert: Ok, you know what? Fuck you!

Aiden: Later. Now listen here, you little shit-

Geralt, laughing: Living my best life.

Eskel: Oh my God, Geralt, what did you do, they’re going to kill each other.

Geralt: This isn’t about them.

Aiden, siting on Lambert and beating crap out from him: Really Lambert, I expected better from you!

Lambert, rolling them and pinning Aiden to the ground: Then that’s your own fault! I’m not responsible for your expectations!

Aiden: Bite me!

Lambert: Where?

Aiden: ...

Lambert: So you going to take a swing? Or you just going to staring into my eyes?

Aiden: Hmm, what was that? I was busy staring into your eyes...

Labert: Oh you beautiful bastard! Just punch me already!

*Berengar enters room*

Berengar: What the fuck is going on here? Are they fighting or making out?

Eskel: At this point, I honestly can't tell.

*later*

Lambert: Eskel, how do I get revenge on Geralt?

Eskel: The best revenge is letting go and living your life to the fullest.

Lambert: …

Lambert: Berengar, how do I -

Berengar: Brick.

***

Aiden: How do you usually get out of these messes?

Lambert: I don’t, I just make an even bigger one that cancels the first one out.

Aiden: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Lambert: Oh, I’ve had worse.

***

Aiden: I’m fucking an idiot.

Eskel: Isn’t that grammatically wrong? Shouldn’t it be “I’m a fucking idiot”?

Aiden: No, I’m fucking an idiot.

Eskel: ???

Aiden, sighing: Ok, watch out.

Aiden: Yo, Lambert, are you high?

Lambert: What?

Aiden: High!

Lambert: Hello!

Aiden to Eskel, pointing to Lambert: That’s the idiot.

***

*witchers face complications during the contract. Lambert is abducted for the ransom*

Lambert, offended: You think I’m only worth 10.000 crowns?!

Kidnappers: What?

Lambert: Give me that *takes the megaphone*

Lambert: Make it 1 billion and we can think about it.

Aiden, from outside: LAMBERT SHUT THE FUCK UP!

***

Lambert: Okay, okay, what if I microwave a spoon? Steal some bees? Oh, oh, let's try to fuse corn and apples!

Aiden: What the fuck?

Aiden: Lambert, I asked you how we should spend our anniversary, I clearly do not remember requesting for ways to disappoint your family.

Lambert: Sorry, force of habit.

***

Lambert, drunk at 1AM: *in pajamas and blasting ABBA in his room* Gimmie gimmie gimmie my man after midnight! Won’t somebody help me-

Geralt in the other room: Aiden is dead. Get over it and go to bed! There’s your help.

Lambert: [drunken sobs]

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grapefrutjuce · 4 years

Text

Is it just me or is Dani looking more shiny and clean than usual in the rooftop clip haha

I have many mixed feelings on this story line. I’m an Arab Muslim but I’ve lived almost my entire life in the US, and I’m not very knowledgeable on the more religious accuracy aspects. Besides that, I’m just not sure what the takeaway of this relationship is supposed to be.

Long meaningless rambling under the cut.

I’ve only seen the OG SKAM before this, so I can only compare to that version of Yousana. But my impression was that Yousef and Sana were very strong on a few fronts - cultural context, history, and shared values. The conflict was over religion as a practice or moral philosophy. Things conclude on a fairly positive open ended note, despite this.

So how does that compare to Damira? Dani doesn’t have a shared cultural context with Amira, at least when it comes to her religion and background. Not much evidence he is actively trying to remedy some of his ignorance. Or at least, evidence that he is eager to do so.

He does have an established friendship and history with her, but I feel the show wants us to accept that as fact rather than show us many meaningful examples. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt there, though.

To be honest, I’m not sure at all if Dani and Amira have many shared values. Yousef made a point of taking a hit for Sana when it came to her parents suspecting drinking. So far, I don’t think Dani has taken any hits on Amira’s behalf, and that’s not for lack of opportunity. She continues to shoulder much of the burden.

Additionally, I really don’t jive with the concept of befriending people who treat others badly. It’s not even like most of his friends were respectful and polite, it’s that most of them were not. What does that say about Dani? That his concern is chiefly with how his friends treat him rather than how they treat others? What exactly does he value from these friendships? And as many people have pointed out, his joke about the kid still hasn’t been properly addressed. Does that mean we shouldn’t perceive this as a possible mismatch of his and Amira’s values?

Finally, the conflict aspect is different this time around. This is probably the only realm I think could be an interesting ‘benefit’ of choosing the Dani route for Yousef. In the OG, Yousef seems to have had his experiences with organized religion and definitively chosen to discontinue participation. For Dani, he has also had his own experiences with organized religion, but perhaps hasn’t felt any particular need to really commit one way or another. In fact, it seems that Amira’s own conviction in her faith is part of his attraction to her (note: they need to be very careful with this). Maybe he has found some sort of kinship with her on some level, in a way that encourages him to think about things differently.

So, where Yousef made a conscious decision to leave religion, here is a chance for Dani to make a conscious decision to join it. His relative ambiguity allows Amira to explicitly say that conversion would eventually be on the table, if they pursued a relationship. Why not explore this route, then? Not converting solely for Amira’s sake, but being inspired by her to start that kind of spiritual introspection within himself. I wish the dialogue would hint that maybe the reason Dani began to consider Amira in this light was because these were things that he did think about, but couldn’t share with other people he knew.

Some might say that this isn’t realistic. Why not? And why is Amira’s relationship confined to strict 'realism’? How many people in real life actually marry their high school sweetheart? Yet there are no problems with accepting other ships as 'endgame’ for all intents and purposes (within the show canon). I don’t think it’s fair that those relationships are portrayed as strong or developed enough to go the distance (these are still just a bunch of teens) but a Sana relationship is too challenging or 'mature’ to maintain.

If a lot of these ships can be fanfic-y or wish-fulfillment flavored, why not give Amira a relationship that isn’t painted as DOA (this is of course, notwithstanding the giant missed opportunity w/Kasim, but I’m not even going to go there)? Yes, Amira wants different things from a relationship than other characters. And perhaps she is satisfied being single. My issue is giving her the possibility of a loving relationship that respects her boundaries only to take it away from her, like she was asking too much. I know 21 year old white guys like Dani will have difficulties with this different style of relationship. But if it ends badly, to me it will almost read as a cautionary tale. If it’s so obviously an exercise in futility, why should I be invested at all?

I want the show to say that Dani believes Amira is absolutely worth it, not 'eh I was celibate for a few weeks and I’m not feeling it.’ That would also make both Dani and Amira look incredibly naive, if both acknowledge that they can only interact physically after marriage, yet still start dating now (doubt they plan to marry any time soon). So does the show mean to punish Amira for this naivety? I would much rather they provide a hopeful resolution, even if people say it’s 'unrealistic.’

Obviously pursuit of a relationship shouldn’t be the sole motivating factor of a major lifestyle or behavioral shift. But careful framing of Dani’s decision making and helpful insights into his mindset could avoid this. I know it would be perfectly fair for him to conclude he isn’t ready to commit to anything serious at this stage in his life. But…being that this IS a fictional story written by real people (with their own biases and preconceptions), there is a message that could be interpreted there…that Amira is, in fact, not worth the effort.

I’m also not sure what Dani’s expression meant when he was watching Amira take a drink from the bottle. I think it was a look of realization, but I’m not convinced that was necessarily realization of love or respect or something like that. I know it’s supposed to basically mirror the OG breaking fast scene, but the circumstances are different enough that I can’t assume Dani feels like OG Yousef did. Often times I get the vibe that Dani doth protest too much when he reassures Amira.

True, the season is only half over so my opinion could change. It’s just that, I don’t doubt that Dani and Amira have chemistry, enjoy each other’s company, and are very comfortable with each other. But I doubt the… substance? Content? Of Dani’s feelings for Amira. And I don’t even know if that’s intentional, or me being overly suspicious of the writing or what.

For me to think there is potential for real love at some point, I would need to feel that these two people very much want to protect each other and look out for each other’s well being. For Dani to merely accept or even admire Amira’s faith isn’t enough to sustain anything. It’s not just about being content in your own bubble, but about being partners and reinforcing that bond outside of it. I’m just trying to contextualize Dani’s approach to and motivations for this relationship, and at the same time validate Amira’s own wishes for herself and ensure that Dani is capable of fulfilling those needs.

I really like Damira. I am *really, really* rooting for them to work. I think they have a lot of untapped potential and a great tender affection for one another. That’s what makes me nervous that the show will pull out the rug from under me.

#damira #danmira #amira naybet #dani soto #skam españa

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ghostmartyr · 4 years

Note

(1/3)Hi, Immi! I’m sorry it will be a long-read, but I can’t keep it bottled anymore. When you say you feel tired about Historia’s situation I can easily relate because I feel the same, exhausted and irritated. It’s just exhausting to keep looking for some positive signs when it becomes more and more obvious that Isayama just made her irrelevant because she’d turn into an obstacle to his plot as an active character. I believe the main reason for him to not explain her situation is that he wasn't

(2/3)able to come up with logical reasons for Historia to follow Eren’s plan and to have a child so he just forced that into the plot. The same way Survey Corps guys just miraculously met Annie eating the pie. We don’t see Historia, her words and her thoughts because it’d destroy the flimsy screen Isayama have draped over her. ... The other Historia-related thing which bothers me a lot is that quite a lot of people argue – in relation to the pregnancy – that she isn’t exactly a lesbian.

(3/3)Like it’d somehow make everything better! They completely miss the point. Even if we’d replace Historia with a random 101% hetero girl she’d still have a kid with a person she doesn’t love, with a person who abused her during her childhood, and this child would be created ONLY to allow Eren to enact global genocide. Wow, what a great improvement! … I’m really sorry for being such an aggressive pessimist but I’m just tired of being optimistic for 25 months straight to no avail. I guess.

Yo.

Put politely, some of the things this particular plot point inspired people to say is why I do my level best to avoid the fandom outside of close friends. It was... not good.

For a quick note, since everything you said has been on my mind for over two years, and ah yes, how it festers:

Coercive sex has nothing to do with preference.

I’m bolding that because hell, did it need to be said when 107 dropped, and as far as I’m aware, it still needs to be said. Instead of people being upset and hurt, the conversation turned into how much of a right people even had to those feelings, because why ever would lack of consent bother someone unless they had a stake in an interpretation of canon.

But in any case, yeah. The fact that Historia’s sexuality became the debate topic it did after 107 is -- hell. I know why it came about, and I could draw a very neat logic tree, and honestly, some of it did come from legitimate places of grievance.

Watching fandom feed like locusts on the discussion of what type of queer had been trapped in a dubiously consensual sexual relationship was still painful. Watching her entire relationship with Ymir be invalidated every other post, when that had limited relevance, was a twist to the knife.

We have a character whose arc revolves around finding herself and reclaiming her agency. The very next arc she is a participant in cheats her out of that agency. She’s nineteen, and everyone around her might not actively pressure her to breed children, but the situation is outlined so that she knows if she doesn’t, everyone will suffer.

This character has routinely protected children, and knows the suffering of being born unwanted.

It’s a disgusting story, and it doesn’t even get to be her story. It exists to make Eren upset. As if he really needs help with that. And after two years, the only addition we have to her role is that she might have gone along with it to help global genocide happen.

I have been waiting for this story to explain itself for a while. Each month, it doesn’t. Each month, I very carefully do not shout to the rafters exactly what I feel about this, because I’ve chosen to wait and trust that the story is not actually being this stupid. Each month, it seems less and less likely that this is ever getting fixed, and I feel like an idiot for going along with it.

However much I think there’s room for a reveal, each month, we’re a tick closer to the end, and nothing crops up. My argument has always been that for something kept off the stage for so long, it’s going to stay off the stage until it’s ready to blow us away. Great, awesome, but in the meantime, by all appearances, one of our main characters agreed to get knocked up by a guy she doesn’t like with a child she doesn’t want for the sake of a global genocide she doesn’t support.

When our actual main character is murdering literally everyone on the planet over how intolerable he finds that practice.

This does not make sense. This does not work on a thematic level, it doesn’t work on a logical level, it doesn’t work on a character level, and yet I’m here, stuck putting up with it for those exact reasons. This is the exact type of thing that got Sherlock fans so much mockery. “No guys, it’s bad on purpose for the secret extra season!”

I’m tired of being optimistic, too. Being optimistic often feels like letting it go unsaid how fucked every part of this is. Loads of characters die, or don’t show up for months at a time, but having a character’s emotional consistency actively dismantled to serve another character’s arc is something that basically never happens in this series. Unless you’re Ymir or Historia. Nice.

Because of how good the character work has been, I am optimistic. Still.

At the same time, the things I love most about the series have been fucked over worse and more completely than anything else going on in the story, and sometimes, I would like a little room to be pissed.

Where is my fucking wall scene, WIT?

#attack on asks #shingeki no no #I really hope it isn't as bad as it looks #because it looks so fucking bad #not to mention all of this is happening #while the themes discussed in her arc #are still being honored and present #but just y'know #with everyone except her #it makes it feel like a mistake to grow attached to historia as a character #because she's being used like the cardboard cutout she learned to move beyond #stories that make you regret picking them up should be like 'oh no my emotions'#not 'oh no you completely wasted my time by making me think this was going somewhere'#anyway anon #fucking mood

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yue-muffin · 4 years

Text

Time Raiders (2016)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

This hellsite turns the images into POTATO quality but ah well, here we go. Into the tomb!

P A R T T W O

He’s a puppy!! Everyone in the family wants to protect him from this business, but here Uncle Three goes ‘eh, might as well’. This boy has no idea what he’s doing. At least Zhang Qiling is here to protect him, because in what world does he not?

Lovely scenery!

Wu Xie…he’s such a nerd. But I relate, I would also use random facts I know from school to start a conversation, my mom probably hates me for it haha. It’s sort of obnoxious coming from some people (me…especially in undergrad). I love it when Wu Xie goes on a ramble tangent though.

We’re really going straight for the throat with the “lookin the mirror because you don’t know who you are” thing, aren’t we. Aw, then he gives a little pout.

These subs are really decent grammar-wise, but LOL at them just giving up on translating Zhang Qiling’s nickname: 闷油瓶 (sullen oil bottle), apparently referring to the way he doesn’t like to talk. It’s a cute nickname but it’s so hard to translate. Some have gone with Poker-face, which I think is the best one you can get in English.

HAHA WU XIE. This kid. I looked up 安静 and the dictionary gives me “quiet, calm, peaceful”. He’s not really quiet, he is rather calm in that he doesn’t flip out easily, but he has such puppy energy that it’s hard to use that descriptor for him. But confirmation that he thinks Zhang Qiling is a handsome man.

Aw, there’s our Wu Xie. It’s funny because he’s so annoyed with Zhang Qiling in the first volume of the novel when he doesn’t respond to Wu Xie’s attempts to be friendly, he always refers to him with a bit of scorn. But, well, it’s a super slow burn relationship (I’m talking platonic, since that’s fully canon and I can turn my shipping goggles off lol) and we don’t have that kind of time in live action adaptations. I do have to say, I like the drama and movie for changing that dynamic a little - if not, it detracts from Wu Xie’s image as an innocent, naive young man, probably.

Oh my fucking god his finger is on the trigger THIRD UNCLE WHY DID YOU BRING THIS KID WITH YOU. Well, that marks the first Zhang Qiling rescuing Wu Xie (from himself…this dumbass) of the movie haha.

Oh he took the bullet out ok that’s better. Ha! Wu Xie is a little imp still.

You just gave Zhang Qiling an heart attack, Wu Xie, hope you’re happy.

This kid. If he wasn’t so stoic, he’d have rolled his eyes. You can just see it in his soul.

Oh ok, we’re getting a flashback to Third Uncle scolding Wu Xie that’s better. I thought he really was that irresponsible to just go “ok sure!”

He looks so sad. It’s the puppy eyes, I’m telling you. That’s how he always gets his way lol.

So he has a dream that weighs heavily on him, but is it worth risking your life in an actual tomb for?

Smooth, he redirects Zhang Qiling’s question right back at him - why do you want to go to the tomb? I love it, he’s still got that mouth on him.

Ooh so they did end up using the periodic amnesia part of his character. And his insecurities about whether he truly exists in the world.

These looks they give each other. They’re so soft. Aahh (shipper me is back). Aww. “Don’t worry, I’ll record them with my camera. You won’t be lost.” So there is a purpose for making photography part of his character. I like using the camera and mirrors as motifs.

“If I come or go, who cares.” I GUARANTEE YOU SOMEONE WILL.

More scenery for the record!

These shots really drive home what he just said: the world is so big, what’s one person in light of it all?

…Never change Wu Xie, never change. This is why everyone wants to protect him, because he says things like this. You’ll protect him?? Haha I remember when he said something like this in TLT2. It was so endearing. But also you just want to die laughing. But that is what makes Wu Xie, Wu Xie. Even in the first book, he cared and worried about Xiaoge’s whereabouts whereas everyone else was like “nah, he’s probably fine”.

HAHA WAIT. Third Uncle you are responsible.

Is this a prison transport truck why can it lock someone inside so easily.

This is so funny.

Oh no it’s the foreigners!! “You’ll be safer in the truck” they said.

It’s Pangzi and Ah Ning!

I still really miss TLT2 Ah Ning, I can only imagine that one in my head now haha.

I don’t understand why she had to climb on the side of the truck just to sit on the hood. Also, wear something a little more protective in the chest area if you’re gonna go tomb raiding it drives me absolutely crazy that women must always be so underdressed just for that male gaze.

You’ve got some good reception considering where you are. Her accent doesn’t make my ears bleed which is a good thing.

Oh-hoho he’s catching onto your little spy cam! IMPOSSIBLE haha that’s everyone’s reaction upon seeing Zhang Qiling after xx years looking the exact same.

And we’re in! Cue the greedy tomb robbers who touch things and get into trouble the second they enter the place. No deaths yet though…still too early.

-DO YOU SPEAK ZHONGWEN (Chinese)?

-*whisper* Chinese.

-CHINESE.

?? I’M DYING. This part is such comedy gold.

Yup that’s Pangzi, I think I’ve heard this one in other DMBJ adaptations but I don’t remember which one.

I’m pretty sure the tomb needs a key…which you have, Third Uncle…

Don’t worry, Zhang Qiling is here to help! As always, he tends to trounce everyone with the most mundane items even though the enemy is carrying heavy duty weapons.

Is something to happen to the beams? First a bracket fell off, now the camera focused on it briefly.

This Zhang Qiling is so low-key funny even though he doesn’t intend to be. They really said “how can we show Zhang Qiling being even more badass” by having him use the cloth as a distraction, then have it fall over his shoulders when it lands.

I also like how he never has any stupid qualms about fighting a woman. Oh he spoke English! Haha. “Not bad.” “I know.”

This Zhang Qiling.

Ah Ning pulling that gun out of her sleeve was real badass. I love how she’s the only one who actually gets hand-to-hand fighting and everyone else in her team just shoots from afar. She’s the team leader and boy does she deserve it. You go, Ah Ning!

Haha they are pretty good! Even set a trap.

Oh, Wu Xie got out of the truck.

Again, kudos to this Wu Xie for actually recording the stuff he sees in tombs.

Why am I laughing so hard right now haha. Look at his hands patting Zhang Qiling’s. His hands are a lot thinner now that they’re right up next to each other.

So high tech what is this haha.

What is my name? Wu Xie did you think he was an imposter or-

Aw, helping him check for his amnesia acting up haha. This kid.

Look at this smile. How can you hate him, it’d be like kicking a puppy. But also, he says the darnedest things. And Zhang Qiling gives a little laugh and a smile! See?

Gotta snap a picture of the bf.

Aww, nice music to go with the “hey you’re alright, proper introduction time” part. And they share a laugh, too.

GUYS YOU HAVE A KEY FOR A REASON?? If the darn thing isn’t turning, maybe you shouldn’t force it and try another method??

Wow they really went for the gore on this movie. Even got some nice blood splats when the thing clamps close. That’s not horrifying at all, nope.

Haha first trap you, the cut off the arm with a guillotine!

As always, Zhang Qiling to the rescue! But yikes is that one heavy duty sword.

Was it smart to light the ball on fire. I see statues holding crossbows that is not a good sign. This is a pretty imaginative way to light up a room though!

I love this Zhang Qiling.

The female statue is rather good looking?? It’s a statue?? And it looks downright creepy, not beautiful or sexy.

Oh no. They touched stuff in the tomb.

It’s a guy who has been dead for hundreds of years. What did you expect it to look and sound like.

Oh fuck no the eyes moved I hate it when this happens!!

Do you also see all the wires rigged to it or is that just me. And they’re holding CROSSBOWS. Now the HEADS MOVED I CAN’T.

There’s no corpse in the coffin great. And now the puppets are playing instruments. This is not disturbing.

COVER YOUR EARS. It’s too late!! Now everyone’s hallucinating, great.

Oh, she’s pretty! But don’t trust her!!

But why did Wu Xie get trapped in that dream of his, while everyone else is hallucinating that they’re still in the tomb.

A decent CGI lion for once? As long as it just stands there it looks fine.

And there goes Zhang Qiling’s magic blood!

It’s super effective! Oh, so he has to spill some blood for each person who is effected by the illusion? Yeah, no one say Zhang Qiling doesn’t care. He’s willing to spill enough blood to pass out (Book 1/TLT1), for all these dumbasses who probably had no business being in a tomb anyways with how they go about it and get themselves into mortal danger.

Yes, Wu Xie, be the voice of reason and protect him from your uncle and his friends. He could’ve left you guys to go crazy if he really did have malicious intentions. But he cut himself to save you, geez. Show some appreciation.

This is a pretty fun trap, gotta say. Wu Xie figured out the rhythm.

Don’t lie, he was definitely worried about Wu Xie, but haha turns out he’s not completely helpless. Just compare picture 1 to picture 2 lol.

HA KNEW IT. THE CROSSBOWS ARE NEXT.

Haha I love it how Zhang Qiling always preferentially helps Wu Xie up or worries about him, to the point Pangzi in Reboot/Chongqi doesn’t even really comment on it anymore.

Someone’s gonna end up dead at some point I’m just waiting for that ball to drop.

HAHAHA I’m howling.

Everyone falls on their asses and crashes into stuff. Zhang Qiling falls into a crouch A+ landing. Wu Xie?

Of course Zhang Qiling catches him. There always has to be a scene where Zhang Qiling holds Wu Xie in his arms, no matter the adaptation, haha. Is this the one for this version?

Of course it’s insects.

I QUIT? Everyone is looking for a way out, ok, you literally cannot quit until you get out of here.

Oh ew the bugs are here of course.

Aww that’s the Wu Xie we know. He wants to save people, always.

THE BUGS CAN EAT METAL. That surpasses “flesh-eating” ok.

Aw, look at his face. Poor boy. I didn’t think I’d grow this fond of Lu Han!Wu Xie.

This is why one person from your family died a month when you were a kid. Welp, that’s one person down.

Zhang Qiling hurting himself again to save their butts. In this adaptation it doesn’t seem that his blood repels so much as hurts creatures outright though, which is far less useful than his evil creature repellant in the dramas.

Lol, dude he even had to help you get your feet up on that metal thing.

WU XIE TRIES OK. He tries really hard. But it’s his first time in a tomb and he’s got more guts than half the people here ok.

SO YOU DECIDE TO PLAY THE FLUTE??

Always record Zhang Qiling’s smiles ok. He was so worried Wu Xie was going to be mooched alive by the bugs. I guess that’s why he can’t have the bug repellant blood in this adaptation lol. If he did, it would’ve helped a lot.

Oh, sure, now the foreigners come in.

You. You might have blown up the only exit??

Good thing your brains, Wu Xie, showed up after all, huh.

Option 1: Dig a hole!!

Option 2: Smash your way through!

How is he doing this haha. Zhang Qiling is too OP.

Aww, see, this is why their relationship across the franchise is so good?? Zhang Qiling in the books especially is so much of a badass, he always is ok and always wins, but it doesn’t matter how many times he escapes death. Wu Xie always cares and worries about leaving without him.

What’s with the awful weather outside lol.

Next Up: more tomb shenanigans!

#time raiders #image heavy post #the muffin's liveblogging adventures

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darkzeruda1214 · 5 years

Text

Kairi deserved better.

Oh, boy this is going to spark up some debates.

Now I want to CLARIFY before I start.

I DO NOT. Under any circumstance hate. Or dislike Kairi. Personally I think she was one of the few characters that actually have an interesting background and has a lot of potential as a character. And I really do like Kairi, but I think the rest of the fandom can agree with me.

She. Was. Done. Dirty.

Seriously. Does anyone in the development team even like or want her in the series?!

This girl deserves better. As well as give her some spotlight and some much needed personality!

*Canon Kairi is just really... unjust. The fandom does a much a better job portraying her character! (TAKE NOTES NOMURA Dangit! You could learn a few things from the fans!)

Anyways...

Time to get to the topic, (also thanks for my cousin for allowing me to use their exact words for this argument).

(SPOILERS FOR KH3)

So after finishing KH3 I was left unsatisfied and just plainly angry at the ending. And after what happened to Kairi, there’s nothing more than I want is for her to get some redemption because what happened to her is utter bullshit. One of the things that really pissed me off was how they handled her.

And yes, I’m talking about the final battle, but one thing I think many people tend to overlook is her treatment in the trailers.

Now I know some of you are confused by what I mean. But the trailers really deceived fans about what Kairi was going to offer. A lot of fans speculated, argued and theorized that Kairi was FINALLY bulk up and be ready to fight. She was finally going to be useful.

Now to be fair she isn’t and act totally useless. I mean she did save Sora during the Final World arc. (But you know, Square totally missed an opportunity that could have given Kairi more substance, but that’s for a totally separate debate for another time).

The trailers made it seem that Kairi was going to be part of the final battle. Now that part wasn’t a lie, but they clearly only gave her the spotlight for a couple of scenes, she’s a party member for the first part of the battle and then that’s it. We don’t even have her throughout the ENTIRE battle. She’s just cast away, because PLOT!

Utter. Bull.

But another thing that really degraded her character as a whole is the lack of personality.

Kairi used to be a snarky and sarcastic character in KH1. And I really enjoyed what kind of character she used to be during my second play through.

(Though I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t have any attachments to any of the character -not including Disney exclusive characters- in my first playthrough until later on in the story. Riku was the only one I was more intrigued about).

Back to Kairi, even with the few seconds she was in, she had something that made her feel like fleshed out character. Not by much, but there was something. And all of that was nearly taken away in KH2, now some of you are probably ready to argue that KH2 was her best version. I’m incline to disagree, now while Kairi was mostly asleep in KH1, she had more personality in the first game compared to the second. Because in the second game, she becomes less sarcastic and more bold when it came around action.

This is where I feel Kairi started to fall as a character and more as a plot device. Because as we all know it, she get’s captured. At least in the first game she had purpose and a reason to be there.

In KH2 she had absolutely no reason to be there.

As much as I hate to say this. Her character direction fails in the second installment, because the only time she’s relevant (not including Naminé) is the Roxas telepathy conversation and the bottle scene. After that, the only way to keep her in there is by having. Her. Get. Captured.

She’s ‘the fire’ that keeps Sora going. And at that point she’s only there as a plot device for Sora. Who he himself wouldn’t be relevant either had it not been for the Keyblade and for Roxas. But since he’s the playable character he’s obviously important. But… the same can’t be said for our Princess of Heart. While they managed to keep something in for Kairi in the second game, it was completely tossed out entirely in KH3. Honestly, the only thing I got from her is that she's heavily infatuated/in love with Sora (which isn't a bad thing, it's just that’s ALL her character had to offer in the third installment). And just in general I think her development went in the wrong way.

So we finally get to the title of the rant.

I know a lot of people are going to disagree with me and that's fine. Since we all have the right to our opinion, and to disagree and agree.

But I think she didn't need to have a Keyblade.

Or at least in the way how the writers decided to give it to her.

Reason I say that? She didn't even EARN her Keyblade. Yeah, I said it.

She didn’t earn it, Riku gave it to her like a gift card. Like: here, it's yours. (It’s pink. So I don’t want it. It matches your clothes though).

That’s it.

They just handed her a Keyblade. That it. She didn’t even have to WORK FOR IT. (Not even a joke since the franchise is handing those things like lollipops) Now. If they had allowed her to manifest it. I dunno, actually EARN it, like how Sora and Roxas did. (Heck, even Riku got it, off screen, but he still got his). And addressing the Wayfinder’s Keyblades, it’s pretty obvious since they were training to be masters at the time. And don’t even get me started on Union X and Ven.

But Kairi was just given the damn thing like a kid given candy. Not through some rigorous trial of heart, mind or soul. Not through battling. No. Just handed one.

I mean yeah sure you could argue her coming to another world could work for her favor, after all she traveled from one world to another. Being brave to help out Sora despite being in danger herself. But again, she’s just given the Keyblade by Riku. Not by her own power. She’s just gifted THE DAMN THING!!!!

I’m sorry. But I don’t think that’s how KEYBLADES WORK!

Look at Axel/Lea! He manifested the Keyblade in his hand! Sora’s appeared to him at first, but then he earned it after showing that his heart is strong and his power is through friendship.

Roxas earned Kingdom Key through Sora, but later he earned his own Keyblades after his strong promises and from battling. One from defeating Xion and the other from the sworn promises.

And it’s no doubt Riku got his from all the hard work of fighting the darkness and helping Sora in his journey.

But Kairi. Didn’t. This pisses me off.

Honestly... at this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised that the writers (actually I think I want to blame Nomura for this) don’t like Kairi. If they don’t even bother to put any effort in making Kairi a fighter. Why on earth did they have to give her a Keyblade?

Again. If they allowed her to manifest it, or let her go through a small trial of some sort like everyone else, or test the power of her heart then I wouldn’t be arguing this topic.

I’m not saying it’s intently bad that they gave her a key. I’m saying the way how they did is simply lazy writing and makes Kairi look useless.

Because of her Keyblade, I think that’s the reason why a lot of people wanted her to fight. And honestly, I feel that was the wrong direction to grow her character.

I can name a good number of cartoon, game and anime characters who don't have ANY fighting experience but are still amazing characters.

And I think that’s a problem in pop culture in general. What most fans of any series don't realize, is that well-written female characters aren't just those who kick butt and shoot stuff.

They don't have to be a badass to be a good character!

And I think that's what really screwed Kairi over in the end. (That and what Nomura did to her). But the moment they decided to give her a Keyblade to fight, it really tipped her off badly.

So going back to the trailers, since I clearly forgot to remind myself, the trailers really made it look like Kairi was finally going to be able to help in physical part of the battle.

They emphasizing so much on her training, that it made it seem like Kairi was going to be a stronger character "physically.” But… once the game was released, there wasn't anything to back it up all that “training.” In fact we didn‘t even get to see her and Axel train at all.

And to me that was a shallow move. The only thing the trailers served was a cheap extension to encourage people to buy the game. I think they tried really hard to sell the game by releasing too many trailers too early in the year that not only spoiled the story, but made fans wait even longer for a game that didn't even feel complete.

All that’s left is the Re:Mind trailer. (Edit ReMind fixed her character. About DAMN TIME!)

But that's just my opinion, if you don't agree with me, that's fine I respect your opinion. I don't mind at all Kairi having a Keyblade or learning how to fight. But I don't think that's what she needed in order to be a good character. She really needs a fleshed out personality and some interests/hobbies outside of simply being in love with Sora.

No hate to Sokai ship. It's a good couple, just... was poorly executed in cannon. Fandom works have better stories and delve into the relationship and characters (better than Nomura ever could write) I'm sorry. But I'm still bitter to what he thought would be a good thing to add in KH3 especially after how many years fans waited the game's release.

*I know there are other reasons as to why Kairi looks and is treated as a bad character. But her poor development discussion has been overdone so many times that it’s practically common knowledge for any Kingdom Hearts fan. But again that's me.

I really needed to get that out of my system.

#kingdom hearts #KH3 #Kairi #Kairi was done DIRTY!!!#lack of character development #she deserves better #keyblade #discussion #personal confessions #confess series #kairi deserved better

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writer-or-whatever · 5 years

Text

Irondad & Spiderson Fic Rec

So @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars posted about wanting some Irondad fic recs and I, being the Irondad & Spiderson obsessed gremlin that I am, figured I would make a little rec. It’s fifteen wonderful fics of varying lengths and degrees of angst (I know 15 doesn’t seem like a little rec but uh...

...and that’s just Irondad fics)

So, yeah, fifteen fics (in no particular order):

Archetype by Bean_reads_fanfic

Tony knows something is up when the research of ex-Hydra agents gets recycled in an underground Oscorp lab… what he doesn’t expect is the boy in a hospital gown sticking to the ceiling; or, how said boy proceeds to imprint on him like a baby duckling (a poor decision on his part, really). Did he mention he wasn’t intending on bringing home a kid that day?

word count: 57k

tw: human experimentation (yeah it gets pretty dark towards the end)

All in a Title by StarkMan

“Nothing.” Clint said, innocently. “It suits you, domestic life.”

Mr Stark opened his mouth to retort but shut it after a moment, shaking his head.

“It’s lovely to see. Real sweet.” Clint continued, ignoring Bruce’s unsubtle nudges in his side. “Almost fatherly.”

Peter glanced to his right and watched Natasha frown slightly at Clint. Steve’s eyes shifted and met his own and Peter could feel his face heating up. No, no, no, why now? He cringed internally and forced his eyes back to the screen. That was definitely an inside joke. They’d picked up on Peter’s avoidance of calling Mr Stark anything.

word count: 2k

"The Duck Chat" is Both Literal and a Metaphor by the_one_a_m_writer

Peter and Tony's secret project is on everyone's minds. Steve starts to figure out more about the project as it goes on, but he also learns more about the team. This story is certainly classified as LGBT+ Fiction.

word count: 21k

note: this is Irondad & Spiderson but it’s also told from Steve’s perspective and there’s a little bit of an almost parental thing going on between Peter and Steve too, but it’s too good not to include

Filling the Gaps by ironfamjam

Tony looked at him, bold and true and utterly sincere, “Kid, I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Like most good things, it started with an accident.

Well, kinda.

This is a story about how a snarky, emotionally stunted genius became more than a mentor and how a just-trying-to-figure-it-out, doing his best superkid became the son he never had. No matter how empty our hearts are, love can always fill the gaps.

word count: 53k

these were my notes on my bookmark in case you weren’t sold: THIS IS QUITE POSSIBLY THE BEST FIC IVE EVER FUCKING READ. THE HUMOR, THE ANGST, THE FAMILY FEELS. ITS ALL SO GOOD. (Also there was a vine reference which is really and truly iconic).

Pranks for the memories, even though they weren't so good by Webtrinsic

A prank on Tony goes a little too far when they decide to involve his son.

word count: 2k

tw: kidnapping

It's About Time by shewritesall

Tony has always been overprotective of his son, Peter. After being exploited by his own dad, Howard, to bring good publicity to Stark Industries, Tony vowed never to let that happen to Peter. But now Peter's about to go into high school and Tony has to face reality: his little boy isn't going to be little much longer. Maybe he should let Peter out into the world a little more. Tony quickly regrets it.

word count: 25k

The Spider's Head by Allthemfanfics

Peter Parker is Spider-Man, he faces dangers everyday that would be enough to give anyone nightmares. But, Peter doesn't have nightmares. He never has, and sometimes, his parents worry. Their son isn't having nightmares, shouldn't that be a good thing? For Tony, it means that Peter isn't facing the demons he needs to face. For Steve, it means his son is holding back feelings and bottling them up.

But when Peter falls into a deep sleep and is unable to be woken up by anyone, the Avengers panic... and are forced to turn to a longtime foe for help.

word count: 14k

Only Human by giraffewrites

When Flash takes things too far - pushes Peter too far by mentioning his fathers and what happened, Peter can't take it anymore.

Or, an au where after civil war, Steve was put in prison, Tony has a hard time facing his feelings, and Peter just wants to see his pops.

word count: 11k

note: again, it’s not strictly Tony & Peter because Steve is his other parent but it’s too good not to include

a spider by any other name by scottmchungup

5 times the Avengers met Spider-Man on accident, and the one time it was on purpose.

All the Avengers know, and subsequently love Peter Parker Stark. Spider-Man however, is just a guy who they infrequently see at work. But when more of the team comes to town for the Stark-Rogers (possible) wedding Peter's secret alter ego gets more face time with the superheros than planned.

word count: 32k

tw: kidnapping

Wired Shut inside and out by Webtrinsic

He knows sometimes he talks too much. He knows it annoys people. What he didn't know was breaking your jaw was the best thing ever when learning not to speak.

word count: 2k

tw: self harm

A Silhouette Hallowed in Light by Webtrinsic

After the death of May Parker, Peter is adopted by his mentor who would do anything to keep the vigilante safe. Until Nick calls about a string of missing persons and leaves it up to the Bug team to go undercover and stop them.

(Not just a bug team fic, Tony has more parts with Peter I promise Iron Dad fans :3)

While Peter's excited to be of help, and get to go on an adventure with his beloved Bug team, Tony struggles and fears the worst. Sadly even with Natasha and Scott protecting the boy, Tony was right to do so.

word count: 44k

tw: torture, kidnapping, dehumanization, abuse

note: This is so good and I cried and I just. So much angst. And so much hurt. But also so much comfort. And just. Yes.

note pt.2: it’s the second in the series and the first is literally 1k words establishing the Bug Team as a thing (which, I love)

decidedly dad-like behaviour by RandomRuth

“Something came up,” Tony says. “I had to make a detour on my way to our lunch meeting. I’m sorry you’re gonna miss those bacon sandwiches you like but…” Tony trails off and jerks his thumb, indicating the back seat.

Rhodey twists around and jumps. “Holy shit,” he says, just shy of shouting it.

(In which Tony is late for lunch with Rhodey and there's a good reason for it.)

word count: 5k

Maybe take a sick day? by spiderboyneedsahug

Peter Parker. School kid. Teenager. Boy genius. Stark Intern. Spider-Man. Superhero. Son-figure.

The main cause of stress in Tony Stark's life.

Simply put, Peter's a smart kid who is too dumb to take care of himself. Enter Tony Stark, billionaire, genius, stressed pseudo-father, and a weekend trip to the New Avengers Compound.

word count: 14k

Meet and Greet by tamaranianprincess

Peter gets hurt and subsequently meets the Avengers... But the meeting isn’t all that fun.

word count: 3k

tw: canon typical violence

(Safe and) Warm by one_sad_oreo

Spiders can't thermoregulate.

Peter knows this, but he goes out as Spider-man on a bitter winter night and there are consequences.

word count: 2k

So, yeah, that’s that, I guess. Feel free to ask for more fic recs (for this or other things- my number of bookmarks in AO3 is nearly 900. I read sort-of a lot)

#irondad #spider son #irondad & spiderson #irondad & spiderson fic rec #irondad fic rec #mcu #mcu fic rec #rose recs fics #my fic rec #pals #aka mutuals #keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars

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