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smolbeandrabbles · 3 years

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Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉

Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.

@wltz-bby @mandy23b @happyskywhale @missunsympathetic

Author’s Note: Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for.

So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.

Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!

Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip

Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.

Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”

Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....

Words: 17,100

Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut.

_____

He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too

---

He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.

Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it. Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…

***

Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.

You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this? Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same. Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!

Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.

It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.

You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn’t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir’s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.

Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…

Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.

Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.

You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.

By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?

It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.

You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.

Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.

Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”

Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.

You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.

Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.

As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’

You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)

You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.

That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.

You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.

You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun. Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’

You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”

Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.

Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.

Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.

You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.

You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.

“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.

Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.

“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.

“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.

Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”

If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”

“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.

You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”

You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.

“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”

You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.

Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?

His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.

Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.

He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.

You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.

Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”

---

Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!?

I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys!

Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜

#200!#Orson Krennic #Ben Mendelsohn #Orson Krennic x Reader #So. FYI for everyone the original request notes end at his 'come to my quarters we have data to review' and I just... didn't stop!#Sorry I was unable to resist this and I REALLY wanted it.#For any questions on the GIF just look at his face and tell me that /isn't/ how he's looking at reader throughout this fic #That's why I picked it.#Krennic x Reader #Director Krennic x Reader #Officer Benja Vy #I had to do waaaay too much scrolling to find that-! Hahah - our conversations!#Okay so in all the fics I've written for him Lorena is the only one(s) that get smutty. So this is ALSO your first Krennic/Reader smut!!#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Rogue One #Rogue One A Star Wars Story #That... /and he had Grace Too/ line #You either cackled like I did or you groaned #it was a final edit addition at like 10pm on the night of posting #Don't hate me I thought it was clever-!

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girllovescomic · 4 years

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Winter Begonia Episode 6 recap

One of my favorite episode, it is in my eyes when Cheng Fengtai (Er Ye) truly falls for our little singer, Shang Xirui. He was already attracted to him, evidenced by the gaze, but this is what tips him over the line from infatuation to love. This is also an episode where you see how the opera lyrics are integral to the plot.

We hear Er Ye’s internal thoughts as he watches the opera, engrossed in Shang Lao Ban’s interpretation of Yang Guifei. He tells that when one leaves the Palace for Eternal Youth (the name of the Opera), they can see their lives in the story or some similarities between them and the character, but for him it goes deeper. He sees the helplessness and compromise he and his family had to make due to circumstances. For him, he had to give up his literary dreams and return home (from Europe, I presume) to take the family business which had been in ruin. He had no idea what he was doing because he was young, having to deal with creditors taking away everything, their employees leaving them and his sister Meixin forced to marry the Commander Cao and leave the man she loved, so they can settle some debts. Apparently, this was not enough, leading him to marry Fan Xian aka Er Nainai, who turns out had a lucrative career as a businesswoman that she was forced to becoming a housewife, confined inside the mansion walls to raise their children. By the way, can we command the way Huang Xiaoming speaks English? He even speaks better than the white girl talking to him. LOL.

The play, or specifically the way SXR sings it exposes all the emotions he had pushed aside as he realize that in life you cannot always do what you want, that sometimes the hand of fate forces you to make choices that goes against your dreams, making you suffer silently as you bite your lips and trudge through life. Ooof, I felt that one to my core. We go back to Shang Lao Ban singing what appears to be sad song. CFT is completely absorbed, to the point of tears as he resumes his narration.

To him, Xirui’s Yang Guifei is unwilling to submit to fate, to kill herself because the courtiers ask her to, but freely choosing to sacrifice herself

In one of the most beautiful sequence that made me weep, we see SXR as Yang Guifei standing afar from CFT talking to each other, the white cloth falling on the floor. She (talking about Yang Guifei) is reaching out to him, which makes him look around wondering if he is the one she wants. He tells her that it is her life, he can’t help her; she responds that she does not need his help, she just wants to look at her. He laments that she did not need to die as long as she was willing to accept her status, but she responds what was she supposed to let go of. He replies that should have taken conformed to the hand of fate, like he did, but to her that would have been meaningless. He tries to stop her from killing herself, but she replies that if she delays it more, she might start to regret it. We go back to the present time and CFT is weeping, clearly affected. Sigh, what a scene. I am crying while typing this.

SXR is doing his thing, marveling the audience, who are equally moved. With everyone gone, CFT is alone in his VIP box, thinking of his mother, who left to pursue her dreams as her singer instead of being confined in her role as mother and wife. CFT finally understands why his mother made that decision to go back to her love of the opera, as he walks dazed.

SXR watches as CFT walks dazed to his house. He is so struck, he doesn’t even see or hear anyone, not his wife nor his household manager. The man is completely gone, his mind still on his vision of Yang Guifei.

Again, we are privy to his thoughts and he tells us that SXR not only portrays Yang Guifei but embodies her, not simply acting her out, but being a living and breathing embodiment of the tragic concubine, like a reincarnation. OOOOF, this is poetry! As an aside, this scene was in the novel as well, although not as poetic. He stands in the courtyard as snowfall as if in a dream-like state, stumbling through his house, much to the other’ consternation.

Still in a daze, CFT is sitting and humming to himself. Through a conversation between his wife and the annoying maid, it has been a half day he’s been in this position and that he has not gone to any of his social functions, discuss business or play mahjong, for the past couple of days, completely uninterested in anything. The annoying maid of course has to run her mouth, claiming that at least Er Ye stays at home instead of being seduced by girls. I swear this girl has a one-track mind. He has been seduced, but not some women, but by an adorable opera singer who can lift his soul. Er Nainai responds that she doesn't care about this nonsense, she feels uneasy by this version of her husband. She clearly knows the annoying little maid can’t process such adult thinking and tells her so. I like this side of Er Nainai. Meanwhile, Er Ye’s mind is still on the songs and may I say, Huang Xiaoming looks absolutely gorgeous in it.

He tries to replicate the experience, but none of the records he pick come close to the original. Fan Lian is completely confused by his BIL’s reaction, wondering what he is looking for. Like a lovestruck teenager who has discover her first pop idol, CFT confesses that he wants to hear Shang Xirui. Fanboy Fan Lian tells him that he has some of SXR records, and will lend it to him, but that is not what CFT is really looking for.

Me, when I hear shitty house music

He tells his BIL that when SXR is on stage he is a completely different person, as if he just walked out of book or an opera script. Fan Lian tells him that he said something similar to SXR, “Body in the mortal realm, but spirit in the performance.” Ooof, I wished I could write something like that in my stories. He adds that of course, it’s a simplistic way to describe the singer’s performance, especially when taking into account his irascible personality and his nebulous past with his cousin. But he adores the man’s talent, so he is able to ignore all that. I completely understand bro. I have a lot of celebrities that I enjoy their work, but dislike their personalities. Sometimes you have to separate the art from the man/woman.

CFT tells him that is not what he cares about, since he has no understanding of the art form, but he actually cares about the man’s spirit, which he finds special. Well, someone is smitten. He finds it refined, rich and sensitive. He is not only a performer who is amazing at what he does, but compare to him, everyone else are mere mortals. This goes above Fan Lian’s head. The look on CFT’s face says it all; this is a man who has fallen in love, so yeah, Fan Lian, you can’t understand what he is talking about or feeling.

Dressed up in a fabulous attire and strutting his stuff, while his wife looks on, relieved that he is finally leaving the house, he goes out to find SXR. Er Nainai tells Meixin that she used to be uneasy whenever Er Ye left the house, but now she is relieved that he is going out, as long as his heart is with his family. You might end up regretting those words.

Meanwhile, SXR is facing another crisis as the opera singer who he was replacing while he was out sick as suddenly decided to come back, probably because he is jealous at the success our little divo is having. Xiao Lai can’t believe this bullshit, especially since they are running out of place to perform.

Waiting like a teenage boy for his crush, CFT is standing next to his car, when he spots Shang Lao Ban coming out of the theater with Xiao Lai. He presses on the horn to get his crush’s attention and I swear this is the cutest thing ever. SXR sends away Xiao Lai who does not seemed to happy that her boss is spending time with the businessman. Shang Lao Ban asks Er Ye how long he has been waiting in the cold instead of coming backstage. CFT looks at him like a man in love looks at his object of affection. I am so jealous of this fictional character! Seriously, he is practically gazing at the other man, who can only smile and asks where they are going. Oh my, is this their first date? I squeal! He is taking him for an afternoon tea and actually wants to know what he would like to eat. Our little glutton tells him that he wants something sweet and opens the door to let him in. I need to pause for a second, tis tew much.

SXR is scarfing down on a chocolate cake and asks where Er Ye went after the show. He wants to have his opinion about his performance, which CFT tells him it was really great. In other operas, Yang Guifei would be forced to die at Mawei Station, but SXR version sang about willingly giving her life for love, turning the damsel into a hero. He was especially struck by one of the lyrics, which is the same lyrics SXR loves about the opera, brought to tears.

CFT flashes a 1000 watt smile upon hearing that and tells him that his performance of Palace of Eternal Youth does not resemble other version of this opera and should be called something else, like the Legend of the Flourishing Tang Dynasty. A little history background here. Yang Guifei was Emperor Ming of Tang’s favored concubine, whom he stole from his own son. Apparently he lavished her with gifts, built an expensive pavilion for her, neglecting his duties as an Emperor, so much so there was a rebellion. Wanting to stop the rebellion, the courtiers forced the Emperor to demand Yang Guifei to be killed as they saw her and her family as the reason for the unrest. Unlike the opera, she does not kill herself, but is killed by Gao Lishin and her body brought to the head of the rebellion as proof of her death. However, the marks the slow decline of the dynasty..

SXR is confused by what CFT is saying, not grasping the meaning behind the title. CFT explains that Palace of Eternal Youth is a love story between to high status people confined by their roles, that of an Emperor and his consort. They have to abide to what his expected of them in their respective roles. The play not only depicts this confinement, but also the rise and fall of a nation. SXR version of the play since about a flourishing dynasty yet it is focus on a tragedy of sacrifice, which could be reflected in 1930s China before the horrors of the occupation and the valiant resistance from both communists and nationalists to oust the invaders. This goes above the uneducated SXR who explains to CFT that in the second act of the play, Yang Guifei had angered the Emperor in a fit of jealousy , but afterwards made up. The reason for the disagreement was due to the fact the Emperor was enamored with another woman called JIang Caiping, feeling Yang Guifei sacrificed herself for no reason. CFT sees a parallel between SXR situation with Mengping and his story. SXR tells him that indeed he sees himself in the stories he sings. CFT tells him that he understands as he used to see that opera performers were similar to their characters, but when he saw SXR performed Yang Guifei, he was more than a mere embodiment but was the actual person, which makes SXR sees that CFT understands his performance in depth, and adds that he was using his soul to perform. This gets CFT to smile, one that I bet even his wife never seen. It is a naked smile what they shows his true emotion. We are witnessing the connection of two souls here and it's a beautiful thing. Once again, how this past censorship is beyond me.

Look at this smile!

Meanwhile the troupe is waiting. I have a feeling Xiao Lai told the troupe their leader had left with Er Ye. As soon as the duo appears, everyone stands up in attention. SXR shouts to Xiao Lai to warm up some wine, while Shi Jiu is trying her best to put her flirt on. Oh sis, you are wasting your time. The man is not interested.

She comments that finally her boss is seeing the light, associating himself with Commander Cao’s BIL is the next best thing than getting the actual man to dispel the rumors and help them out of their desperate situation. The duo chat some more, over wine, talking about the difference between Western Opera and Eastern Opera performers, especially the castrato. They talk about skills needed to be a good singer. They get drunk, so much so that SXR and are hilarious.

SXR is in his first costume he ever used when performing and despite being average compared to now, he considers it his most prized one; it is his armor, his guts. I have to say it is a beautiful piece, showcasing the meticulous work put in Eastern embroidery and their use of pearls.

CFT reveals that he wrote a story when he was in school abroad. SXR says he is not surprised since he can see that Er Ye understands the art on a deeper level and why they are connecting. CFT tells him of his story, which is about a woman who eloped with a man she loved, but who abandoned. While she waited at home, she had many lovers, who came and gone, until the woman finally realize that she didn’t need these men in her life. They were just a passing folly, not dependable to ensure her happiness and that by controlling her fate, she can do so. She went on to open her own weaving shop, taking in widows and orphans and went on to have great success, so much so, she was asked by the Empress to make her clothes. Damn, that is a freaking good story! They laugh and SXR thinks the morale of the story is that for a woman to control her fate, she needs money. Hmm.. aren’t we all? Shang Lao Ban reminds might be too progressive for Beijing Opera; instead the protagonist would be killed. CFT tells him that stories transcends culture or gender which seems to make SXR teary. As a performer, he is seen as the dregs of Chinese society, lower than a prostitute, despite the fame. I bet he wished to live in a world that would dispense of this hierarchical structure and see his profession respected by those in higher status. He tells CFT that he would love to play this type of woman, and I am hoping this is a hint of collaboration between the two. I actually would love to see him play this kind of character.

The troupe is eavesdropping, hoping their leader would hit up CFT’s wallet to help them out when Lao Ge comes in looking for his boss. They push him out, claiming Cheng Er Ye is not inside. Shi Jiu says they should keep anyone from interrupting since it might be their only opportunity; Dashen replies that it depends on their leader’s abilities to charm beg Cheng Er Ye for help.

Meanwhile, the duo is still discussing opera. Er Ye does not understand that for the sake of expediency, why not only wear a mask like the Japanese kabuki performers do, which would save time on makeup. This appears to make SXR laugh hard. He tells Er Ye that it is not the same thing because you will not be able to see the facial expression, which are an integral part of the opera. Wearing a mask is like being a ghost on stage, a bit like dubbed voices take away the essence of the emotions conveyed by the actors (any C drama fans would understand).

They drink again and SXR reveals this has been the happiest day since he came to Beijing. He never expected to become kindred spirits with Commander Cao’s BIL. CFT ponders about the title, which constrains me like the rest of his life. But SXR sees through the facade of a man who seems powerful and wealthy, like the fictional character, General Gao Yaonei who took Lin Chong’s wife, but turns out to be a good person, while CFT also had the wrong picture of Shang Lao Ban as an arrogant prima donna on the cray cray side, but is actually a good person as well. Shang Lao Ban is asleep and he looks so cute. The troupe is still standing at the door when a drunk Cheng Er Ye stumbles out. The troupe does not want to let him go back home and convince him to stay by claiming their leader would beat him up if he leaves without saying goodbye. Lol these sneaky mofos. It actually succeed and Cheng Er Ye returns to sleep with our adorable Shang Lao Ban. They have no idea they are helping the ship sail.

Meanwhile, the weasel family(Jiang father and son) are discussing SXR financial problems and the fact he had to pawn his costume to pay the rent. They are jubilating at the difficulties Shuiyin troupe is facing, especially since they are a big one and there are bound to have problems as morale starts to get low and the funds disappears. With losing his spot at the theater and not being shrewd, he will have problems raising money, leading to his own people turning against him. Its the next day and the member wants to know how his chat with Cheng Er Ye went, in the hope they got themselves a rich sponsor. SXR is like “the hell are you talking about? What difficulties?” Then it dawns on him what they are asking and that angers him. He lets them know that his “friendship" with Er Ye is on a different level, one of being kindred spirits. He wouldn’t dare use him for money.

They grumble until CFT appears; he looks like he didn’t sleep on a cushy mattress like he has at home. CFT asks if SXR heard some rumbling noises last night and SXR asks if it hail last night. Judging from his face, he knows where this noise came from and Dashen confirms it was loud snoring. LOL. SXR is obfuscated, claiming he never snores. Xiao Lai brings out the rinse and CFT is also given one. As he is about to rinse his mouth, SXR breaks out in a voice exercise that makes CFT gulped the rinse. LOL There’s a competition between him and one of the merchant selling fried pancake. There’s a knock on the door and the merchant as left a piece of fried dough for Shang Lao Ban, claiming it as gift. He splits it and gives a piece to CFT, who can’t turn it down, but you can tell has no interest in putting this commoner’s food in his stomach. So boogie. While CFT struggles to eat the dough, SXR invites to take him somewhere fun, but the troupe goad Xiao Lai to remind SXR they have to clean out the backstage of the opera house, hoping CFT would hear about their troubles. SXR is having none of that, sending some of them to clean out their stuff. He clearly does not want to ask money from CFT and I can’t blame him. Money has a way to create unease and inequality, especially in a budding relationship/friendship. Once you owe someone money, it causes problem, especially when you have to pay it back. SXR leaves with CFT in tow, who still has not taken a bite of the fried dough, leaving it behind for the others. The way he drops the pancake and wipes his hand is so boogie, I cannot.

They walk through a street where many circus-like performers are showing their talent. They are walking so closely to each other already, le sigh. The area is called Tianqiao and someone in the Viki comments stated this is the closest to the amusement park date trope so prevalent in Asian dramas, and I couldn’t agree more. CFT compares it to the Shanghai’s Great World Amusement Park, confirming the statement above. It is apparently an entertainment and amusement arcade, which opened back in 1917. Shang Lao Ban reveals that he once sang there and despite the place having a roof which would carry his voice better, he prefers the open air of Tianqiao. Clearly not full from the friend pancake, he goes and buys persimmon cake. Geez where does the food go?! He offers one to Er Ye who, of course, turns it down.

Look how close they are walking!!!

Unbeknown to him, he is the victim of a pickpocket. Trying to get his money to buy cigarette (hmm... wait, this is far more unhealthy than the greasy food Shang Lao Ban is offering you bro!), he realizes what happened. Our kung fu penguin goes after the thief and kicks ass. Seriously, he is amazing. CFT looks like he is enjoying seeing his crush fighting skill, especially he is far more proficient with a gun than his fists. He gets the money back and tells the thief to leave. CFT asks why he didn’t take the thief to the cops, but SXR tells him the way of the street is that if a thief got his ass kicked, that is sufficient punishment. CFT asks about his kung fu skills, saying it is is good looking (Ohhh); SXR reveals it is a skill that has been passed down from his father, the Shang Family Rod, a type of martial arts that is different from the fake fighting on stage that can do real damage. CFT comments that SXR must have been beaten a lot when he was a child, which the singer admits. If you seen Farewell My Concubine, you know the abuse these kids go through to become performers. It is gross. SXR invites CFT to continue with their walk and this is where it ends.

Ooof, this episode was heavy in emotion and exposition. I truly think this is where the infatuation Cheng Fengtai had developed for our little divo turns into love and where Shang Xirui gets to see the shrewd businessman has someone who possesses a similar artistic passion who had to give it up for circumstances out of his control. He is like the real Yang Guifei who was forced to accept her fate and be killed by Gao Lishi, whereas Shang Xirui of the opera who chose to sacrifice herself for her love, giving himself fully to his passion. We are also seeing how much the troupe is suffering because of the rumored feud with Commander Cao, which sets up lots of conflicts that will set up the end of our act 1 and push our protagonists to make a decision that will forever change their lives.

#winter begonia #shang xirui #cheng fengtai #andrew yin #Yin Zheng #spoilers #episode recap #episode 6 #huang xiaoming #please watch it #beautiful drama

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ghostprincess · 5 years

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Sweet Things, Ch. 5 (Mysterio x Reader)

Summary: (This is the final chapter!) Mysterio kidnaps Y/N Parker as leverage against Peter, as well as because he has taken a liking to her. But the longer she stays with him, the more twisted her reality becomes, until it’s nothing but him. Will Peter be able to save her before it’s too late? Dark!fic, Stockholm Syndrome, dub-con, etc.

Warnings: (first and foremost there are scenes that could be interpreted as self harm so trigger warning), ffh spoilers, some sexual content but nothing graphic, emotional distress, blood, violence, mysterio’s just a mess

I lay still on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as I waited for my body to recover.

What just happened?

It all felt like a fever dream.

Maybe it was an illusion, I thought. Or maybe it was just a dream, there’s no way he would ever do that, right?

The shock began to wear away eventually, the pain shooting through my body confirming that it was, in fact, real. It really happened.

I’m gonna be sick.

I got up and stumbled into the bathroom, falling down to my knees over the toilet just as I began to heave. The lack of food in my body made itself known when the only substances I threw up were bile and vodka, and when the heaving stopped, I somehow felt even worse than before.

I flushed the toilet and pushed myself off the ground, looking up into the mirror at my naked body. My neck was mottled with red and purple, hickeys and bite marks splotched around like paint on a canvas. My chest had a few red marks and my hips had hand-shaped bruises forming on top of them. The gauze that had once covered my wrists was wrinkled and beginning to peel off from Quentin’s manhandling.

I ripped the bandages off in anger, throwing the bloodied gauze to the ground. Looking down, I noticed the tears in my skin that had begun to scab over were now torn wide open, the once yellowing bruises now an angry hue of violet.

I heaved again when I finally noticed the dried white substance stained on my thighs and between my legs, tears gathering in my eyes. I collapsed in front of the toilet and threw up again as the weight of what I’d just done hit me.

I did it willingly. Why didn’t I stop him?

You love him, a voice whispered deep within my subconscious.

The memories of his hands around my throat and his lips on mine wouldn’t leave and my conflicted feelings were at war. I sobbed into my hands.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and once I calmed down a bit, I pushed myself up and walked over to the shower. The porcelain of the bathtub was still damp from the bath Quentin had given me earlier, and I shuddered at the memory. I imagined him helping me into the shower, his arms around me under the warm water and holding me close as I cried into his shoulder—

I shook my head, snapping out of the fantasy. He was the one who made me feel this way, so why would I ever want to go to him for comfort? The knowledge that something was very wrong with me ate at the back of my mind but I ignored it in favor of getting clean.

I turned the water on and stepped into the spray, hugging myself. The cold water stung like needles piercing my skin but it grounded me.

I grabbed the bar of soap from the ledge and began to scrub myself relentlessly. I focused particularly between my legs and on my thighs, and sobbed as I cleaned the evidence from my skin. I felt dirty and used, but even the soap couldn’t make me feel clean.

I ran the soap over my arms, nearly screaming as my wrist wounds were cleaned out. The stinging, stabbing pain was worse than anything I’d felt so far and I nearly passed out when blood began to pour from them once again.

Too much. Too much blood.

I quickly turned the shower off and scrambled to the cold floor outside, haphazardly wrapping a towel around myself as I opened the cabinet beneath the sink.

I rummaged around, feeling for any medical supplies, and finally found Quentin’s first aid kit, pulling it out. My head spun from a mixture of seeing my own blood and my ever-present hangover, and I nearly fell over again.

I grabbed the first thing I saw— ace bandages— and wrapped one around each of my wrists tightly. The fabric was stained with my bloody fingerprints and I knew I had not treated the wounds correctly, but I couldn’t bring myself to care as I sobbed on the cold, wet bathroom floor.

———

The sound of the bedroom door opening pulled me out of the haze I was in and I barely had time to pull the towel over my body before Quentin walked into the bathroom, his eyes scanning the room quickly. I closed my eyes as he walked over and kneeled in front of me.

“Aw, baby, what happened?” He asked apologetically, and I shuddered. How could he sound so genuine?

“You made a mess, honey,” he continued, and I flinched.

“I— I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to,” I squeaked, finally meeting his gaze, and he grinned.

“Let me help you,” he said, in the same tone as before, and I broke, clinging onto him and sobbing as if he were some sort of savior.

He made no move to reciprocate besides sliding his arms underneath me and carrying me bridal style into the bedroom. He sat me down on the bed but my trembling arms were locked around him.

“It’s okay. It’ll all be over soon,” he soothed, and I felt my stomach drop.

“W-what will?” I asked, leaning back and looking at him. He sighed.

“We’re doing an attack on London, and then I won’t have to do as much convincing to prove to the world that I’m the hero.”

“Attack? You’re not gonna k-kill anyone, right?” My teeth chattered from the cold and Quentin seemed sadistically appreciative of my discomfort, twirling a strand of my hair again.

“There’ll be lots of casualties, but more casualties means more coverage.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, and I felt my lips responding, my eyes closing, until he pulled away with a maniacal grin. “Maybe I’ll even let you watch.”

My stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as I stared at him, contemplating what he had just said.

I could play along and escape, tell Fury what happened, get Beck locked up.

But I could just stay here, where I don’t have to worry about anything.

I could rebuild some semblance of a normal life, get my job back, pursue my dreams of becoming—

I don’t want to leave him, I could never do that to him—

“When is it?” I asked.

———

“Don’t make them too tight. I don’t need anyone seeing cuff marks on her hands after I save her,” Quentin called, his back turned to me as he fiddled with the screen mounted on his left arm.

It had been two weeks since he had told me about the plan, and I was unbearably, unbelievably tired. My body was sore from Quentin’s affinity for manhandling me, his hands bruised into my hips and neck.

“These are just for precaution, okay?” The man with glasses said apologetically as he clicked a handcuff around my right wrist. I nodded solemnly and he attached the other handcuff to the metal railing. I was sitting on the ground, my back against the wall inside some large overpass structure, overlooking the city. We were in London, I knew that much, and Quentin was stationed in there with me, dressed in a black and grey motion-capture suit and donning a half-helmet that resembled Mysterio’s.

“William, she’s fine, get to your position,” Quentin said impatiently, and the man nodded quickly, disappearing through a door.

“Just think about it. I’ll be a hero, Y/N. And you’ll be the tortured soul who I healed, the damsel in distress who I saved. It’s so tragic that you lost your family to the Elementals, but think about it! How much better can a story get? I saved you from your own self-destruction, avenged your family for you, and now we’re in love.” He looked at me and smirked, and my stomach twisted. I shakily smiled back.

“You’ll be the best, Quentin,” I said, and he laughed, kneeling down next to me.

“If you’re good, when this ends, I’ll fuck you good and hard, would you like that?” He murmured, and I whimpered, nodding. I really did want him, didn’t I? Fuck.

I tried to convince myself that I was just playing along, but it didn’t feel true. My escape plans were slowly dwindling away from my mind as I imagined the life I could have with him.

I had nothing left, what else was there to lose? Could I be selfish just this once and give in to my desire to feel some sort of love? After all, the world had caused both Quentin and I so much pain, the world had killed my family and most of the Avengers, so why should I care what destruction Mysterio would bring to it…?

Focus, Y/N. When he turns, start trying to loosen the cuff.

Quentin stood up and walked a few feet away, turning his back to me as he began to tap at his armband again.

“Cue lightning,” he said into his earpiece, and a huge bolt struck, shaking the ground.

I started to twist and wiggle my hand, hoping to loosen the handcuff enough to slip my hand out. He’d be too busy to bother watching me while he orchestrated the attack, and I could slip away, run to safety before he even noticed I was missing.

The handcuff slipped a bit, loosening by a notch, but luckily Quentin spoke again, drowning out the small metallic click.

“Now that is an Avengers-level threat,” he said in awe. A loud roar sounded from outside and I could only see out the tops of the windows, where a large black sky was swirling with lightning, fire, and sand.

BOOM.

Another bolt of lightning struck and I flinched, momentarily reminded of the sound of Peter being shot, falling to the ground…

I need to get out of here.

I tugged at the handcuff a little more frantically as Quentin’s demeanor unhinged more and more.

“I have drones breaking formation,” he suddenly exclaimed, seeming worried.

Please, please have the drones fail, or an Avenger stop him, please…

“I’m gonna take a look inside, just to be sure,” he said, then began to swipe on the screen casually, staying calm— he went rigid, staring in anger at the screen, then looking up to glare at the monster.

“Yeah. And I’m gonna kill him,” he said to whoever was on the earpiece, and I craned my neck, trying to get a good look at the screen.

“What’s wrong?” I asked tentatively as he nearly shook with rage. Quentin turned around and opened his mouth to reply, but stopped himself, looking back down to swipe at his screen.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I—I’m handling it,” he stammered.

He’d never acted like that before, so what had happened that he couldn’t even tell me? Me, who would probably never see the light of day again after his public “rescue” of me, who could tell no one?

After a few minutes of pacing and tapping at his screen, he became frantic, turning to me with wild eyes and walking over to kneel in front of me.

“Change of plans. I’ll wake you up when it’s over,” he said, pulling a syringe out of a holster on his belt. Before I could protest, he stabbed the needle painfully into the left side of my neck, beginning to inject me with the same drug he had used before, and the world seemed to spin in slow motion.

A flash of red and black caught my eye, and I heard the sound of glass shattering as I closed my eyes. The needle was ripped from my neck and I heard the syringe clatter to the ground next to me as I whimpered in pain. I opened my eyes to look down at it; he had only managed to inject half the contents into my bloodstream.

“Show’s over, Beck!” A similar voice called out, and my heart sank.

Peter.

Quentin had given me just enough sedative to make me hallucinate, apparently, and I closed my eyes as my heartbreak began to surface once again.

“This certainly isn’t ideal, but I have contingencies,” Quentin said to someone snarkily. A few more crashing sounds broke through the air and I winced, trying to pull myself away from the noise, but something around my wrist was holding me back, and I couldn’t even cover my ears—

“Stop, too loud,” I slurred lazily, wincing as another crash shook my eardrums.

“Y/N?” Peter’s voice called out, just like before, he’s gonna die, I screamed and curled into a ball, no more, no more, Quentin please stop—

“What did you do to her?” Peter’s voice cracked as he roared in anger, that was new, is this a new projection, please don’t die this time, and the sounds of fighting rang out once again.

I drowned the noise out, closing my eyes as sleep pulled at my mind, the stupid fucking drug…

The next thing I heard was loud gunfire, right in front of me, and I jerked up, wide awake. The drones were all in a formation, projecting something as Quentin watched in anger, but the projections concealed whoever he was fighting.

I looked up at the cuff around my wrist, then began to rip the gauze out from underneath it, exposing the scabbed and stitched wounds from previously, now’s my chance.

I shakily picked up the syringe that had fallen next to me and gritted my teeth, then started to hack painfully at the stitches with the needle.

If I bled enough, I could slip my hand out and run.

The pain was excruciating and I tried to ignore the thought of how ugly the scars would be from repeatedly injuring myself as I mutilated my own body.

Finally, finally, blood began to drop steadily down my hand and arm; I cried in pain at the stabbing agony, but the blood was working, my hand was slipping out.

With one final tug, I yanked my hand out of the handcuff, letting out a sob of relief.

“FIRE ALL THE DRONES NOW!” Quentin suddenly screamed.

He looked up at me in shock and anger, walking quickly towards me, and I whimpered in fear, please don’t hurt me—

A final loud crash and the sound gunfire began again, causing me to flinch and cover my ears. Quentin suddenly screamed and I looked up just as a huge blow ripped into my stomach, slamming me back against the wall. It felt like a punch to the gut, but as I looked down, I saw the red soaking my shirt, then felt the pain.

I’d been shot, and instead of panicking, a part of me felt relieved at the idea of not having to deal with the pain anymore.

I collapsed to the ground on my side and looked up at the scene before me. All the projections were gone from the drones, Quentin lay collapsed on the ground, and— Peter?

I didn’t realize I had spoken until his head whipped towards me and he scrambled to help me up, tears pouring down his face.

“Y/N,” he sobbed, pulling me into a tight embrace, and I lethargically rested my head on his shoulder. Is this Heaven? Is he here to reunite with me and lead me into the afterlife?

Please be real, I thought, and closed my eyes in acceptance.

“I trusted you, Beck, and you lied to me,” Peter said, turning away. He rested me down on the ground again and I opened my eyes as he walked towards Quentin angrily.

“I- I know. That’s the most disappointing p-part,” Quentin replied.

He was covered in blood, clutching his stomach, and I felt my heart drop as I realized what had happened to him.

Tears blurred my vision and I struggled to wipe them away, but suddenly a loud BANG sounded.

Peter was holding Quentin by the wrist, a gun pointing up to the ceiling, and the gun clattered to the ground unceremoniously. Peter ripped the glasses off of Quentin’s face and began to speak, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Quentin.

His face contorted in agony and we made eye contact, his eyes softening as he scanned my body and realized what had happened.

Neither of us spoke, just stared at each other in an eerie silence, punctuated by Peter’s frantic yelling as he tried to take back control of the AI.

“Y/N? Y/N, wake up, are you with me?” Peter said, suddenly kneeling over me, tears pouring down his face. I rolled my eyes up to look at his face and smiled weakly at his attempts to put pressure on my wound.

“I’m ready now,” I said. “I missed you.”

“W-what? You’re ready for what? Y/N?” He screamed, shaking me back and forth. I closed my eyes and slipped into nothingness, and felt no pain.

———

A bright light was shining through my eyelids and I groaned, lifting my arm to cover my eyes.

The window in Quentin’s room was directly in the path of morning sunlight, and after waking up to it for two weeks, I’d had enough.

“Y/N?” A voice called beside me, and I jumped, my eyes shooting open.

I wasn’t in Quentin’s dull, grey room; this room was all white, a steady beeping noise sounding from behind me, a blue curtain to my right, Peter to my left.

“P-Peter?” I whimpered, and the beeping noise began to become more frantic as my heart rate spiked. “You’re alive?” I gasped, tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes, and I reached out for him. He immediately reached back and I pulled him into my embrace, ignoring the pain in my abdomen as I hugged him tightly and sobbed.

I ran my fingers repeatedly through his hair, he’s real, he’s really here, I can feel him.

The rest of the day consisted of Peter catching me up on everything that had happened while I was held in captivity. He’d finally started dating MJ, May and Happy were dating, Peter was alive.

I couldn’t contain my joy until Peter told me what had happened on the bridge.

“He- he’s not dead.” I shook my head frantically, feeling panic creep up my spine.

“Y/N, don’t worry, okay? He is. I asked EDITH—“

“Y-you don’t know what he can do,” I gasped, becoming hysterical. “He faked it, Peter, he’s not dead.”

Two nurses came running in as the heart monitor began to beep frantically, one trying to hold Peter back and talk to him while the other fiddled with my IV to sedate me.

“Don’t believe what he makes you see,” I said, and then the drugs pulled me under.

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cedarmoons · 5 years

Text

reversed nadia & tragic heroism

aka, stop dismissing complex female characters as bitches you heathens

to preface this meta: i’ve included screenshots where i can, but as tumblr only allows 10 images, i’ll also include transcripts of scenes i want to discuss. screenshots have been cropped to only include the text, and should be read from left to right. i have left out some filler text, and “blank” boxes are only meant to keep the image even. all mentions of “Nadia,” unless otherwise stated, refers to Nadia in her Reversed route.

tldr: Nadia is Textbook Tragic Hero, it wasn’t animal abuse, Nadia did not sell MC to Satan for one corn chip, and it certainly wasn’t “bad writing.”

Long ass character meta under the cut! obviously contains spoilers for Book XX, Judgement - Reversed.

So. I originally had no intention of playing any of the reversed routes, but there were some claims about Nadia (i.e., she abused Mercedes & Melchior, she killed Lucio in cold blood, and she sold out MC for her own power) that made me think HMST and play it myself. Unsurprisingly, every single one of the above takes does not provide any greater context whatever.

I changed four (4) things to get Nadia’s reversed route: I never encouraged her to talk to her sisters or ask them for help; I told her to send Portia away; I did not allow the Flooded District partygoer to talk to her in Temperance; I told her to kill Lucio in The Devil.

And playing Nadia’s route seemed incredibly familiar to me, though it took a little while for me to realize why: Nadia, in her reversed route, is the textbook Tragic Hero. The Tragic Hero has a “fatal flaw,” which leads them to commit catastrophic errors in judgement, which leads to their allies, family, and friends abandoning them and their own isolation, which leads to the Tragic Hero realizing (too late) the gravity of their own errors.

I can’t believe I’m busting out my degree for a mobile game because some people like to twist things, but here we are. Someone has to go to bat for Nadia when the narrative surrounding her the past 48 hours has been doing her so dirty.

Part 1: The Lucio Problem

Now, let’s get straight to the first bout of character analysis: Lucio’s death. Nadia does not, in fact, cut Lucio down in cold blood. Lucio actually gets her to stop, and she allows him to explain why he should be allowed to live, which essentially is “because then I can help you overthrow the Devil.” The following is a transcript of their conversation, starting with Lucio explaining how he was supposed to be the Devil (instead of the ghost goat form we see in early-to-midgame), up to and including his death:

LUCIO: “It should have worked too! It was supposed to work! It wasn’t my fault. The Devil played dirty, he cheated me out of my chance to win! But together, we can defeat him. We can do it right this time!”

Nadia stares at him for a very long time, then throws her head back and laughs.

NADIA: “Yes, because you’ve been so trustworthy in the past.”

NADIA: “You would become the Devil and spread your treachery further than even Vesuvia. You would do the same thing he is attempting. You would cause death and destruction. Neither of you deserve the title. If you want something done right... do it yourself.”

LUCIO: “I won’t lose here! I don’t lose!”

Lucio lurches forward, anger flashing in his eyes. He reaches forward with a gold-gauntleted glove - And stops, as blood gurgles up from his mouth, trailing down his chin. Nadia’s blade is plunged deep in the center of his chest, the blade finally finding its mark.

LUCIO: “...”

She pulls the sword out and he crumples, his last words lost.

It should be noted Lucio’s sprite isn’t bloodied during his “...” dialogue. It’s interesting that no one mentioned Lucio lunged for Nadia first, isn’t it? Of course, one can always say he sensed his incoming death, and only attacked in self-defense: this is a reasonable and valid argument. But he unquestionably moved first, and Nadia also killed him in self defense: hardly the cold-blooded murder I had expected going in.

It is not Lucio’s death itself that struck me in the writing, but the aftermath. After he is dead, MC can respond with either “Why did you do that?!” or “He had it coming.” I chose the former, and the following is the transcript:

MC: “Why’d you do that?!”

My head is still spinning. Nadia just killed someone in front of me... and she doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all.

NADIA: “We knew it would come to this, MC. I couldn’t risk him causing more chaos and destruction. He would have always remained a threat.”

She pauses, reaching out slowly toward me.

NADIA: “You understand, don’t you?”

I’m interpreting MC’s “Why’d you do that?!” as a horrified growing realization of how far Nadia has fallen. They were the primary influence over the course of 20 books in shaping Nadia this way, but the way Nadia kills Lucio really cements her fall from grace for them. And Nadia, when she “reach[es] out slowly” toward MC, seems to know that MC has realized this. She says “You understand, don’t you?” — words that can easily be considered a plea.

You understand why I did what I did, don’t you? You understand I had no choice, don’t you? You understand there was no other way, don’t you? You understand I am not a monster, don’t you? You understand I do not want to lose you, don’t you?

I take a deep breath, still staring at where Lucio’s body was, then nod slowly. Nadia lets out a soft sigh of relief, and strokes my cheek affectionately.

NADIA: “Good. I couldn’t handle you turning from me, MC. It had to be done. I had no choice.”

Nadia already considers herself alone against the world. The MC is the closest thing she has to an ally; the MC is the closest thing she has to a confidant(e). Yet her anxieties and trust issues keep her from truly allowing MC to be as close as they are in her Upright route. This is seen as early as Book 9, when in the carriage ride (and immediately after discovering Portia’s betrayal), she wonders if MC will betray her, too, and whether she is destined to stand alone in the world.

Over the course of the 11 books from Book 9 to Book 20, she has come to realize that if she loses MC, she is truly, truly alone in the world. Thus, her hesitation (“slowly”) to reach for MC. Thus, her blatant relief in MC staying with her. Thus, her admission that she would be unable to handle MC turning away from her.

Part 2: Becoming the Devil

In any heroic story, the hero must achieve a seemingly impossible feat: saving the world; defeating the unstoppable Big Bad; et cetera. Tragic heroes also seek to achieve impossible feats, but their “feats” straddle the line between good and evil, or their reasons — why they want to achieve the impossible heroic feat — are not grounded in conventional morality. Tragic heroes attempt to achieve their impossible feats, but their efforts, whether successful or not, always have catastrophic consequences.

Hamlet’s impossible feat is to avenge his father: his efforts to do so result in the deaths of his (debatable) love interest, his mother, his step-father, his friends, and himself.

Solas in Dragon Age: Inquisition’s impossible feat was to stop the Evanuris: his efforts to do so created the Veil, stripping elves of their immortality and power, leaving them open to exploitation, enslavement, and death (and opening the way for him to undertake a second impossible feat: destroying the Veil to restore the elven people’s power).

Clarke Griffin in the TV show The 100 had the impossible feat of saving her people from having their bone marrow harvested by Mount Weather: her efforts to do so saved her people, but killed hundreds of innocent people who had nothing to do with the cruelties inflicted on Clarke’s friends; gave her and another major character PTSD; and led to Clarke’s self-imposed exile from her people.

Nadia’s impossible feat is to defeat the Devil Arcana.

Where in her Upright route she believes MC is powerful enough to bind the Devil’s powers, essentially limiting him to his own realm, in her Reversed route she does not believe this: she thinks it is too risky to MC’s safety, and she is unwilling to lose MC after they “nearly died binding Vlastomil.” Instead, she will replace the Devil Arcana herself, as it is the only way to guarantee that the Devil’s threat would end.

VALERIUS: “It’s a terrible idea [to replace the Devil Arcana]. You want to be trapped here, forever?”

NADIA: “I see no other option. The Devil cannot be allowed to continue his machinations.”

THE HIEROPHANT: “Interesting. I hold no love for the current Devil. He oversteps his bounds. ... Yes. I believe you’d make a lovely Arcana. At the very least, you’d mind your own business.”

The Hierophant tarot is all about tradition, convention, authority, “staying within your own bounds.” The Devil’s attempt to escape his realm and merge the magical and mortal realms certainly disrupts the accepted status quo. If Nadia replaces the Devil, then the status quo is maintained (“at the very least, you’d mind your own business”). Of course the Hierophant is going to encourage her to do this.

VALERIUS: “And give up your own humanity in exchange! I’ve been there, Countess, it’s no way to live.”

Nadia shakes her head, looking out the window to the vineyard beyond.

Nadia looking out the window the vineyard beyond is not only a description but symbolic of her own reasoning. Her attention is diverted by looking out the window, so she is not fully attentive to what Valerius is saying. She is unwilling to look at, and thus give attention to, those who disagree with her; she has turned her face away from reason and disagreement.

NADIA: “What choice do I have, really?”

MC: “There’s always a choice!”

NADIA: “Not this time, MC. You’ve been with me through it all... but this last thing I must do alone. I won’t risk you.”

MC then has the choice to say “I’m with you” or say “I won’t risk YOU!” here. I chose the latter option for thematic relevance: MC is panicking, now, fully understanding what Nadia intends to do — and fully understanding that they might lose Nadia forever. They are trying to undo the damage they have done in the earlier parts of the route, but it is too late. Nadia’s heart has hardened.

MC: “I won’t risk YOU!”

NADIA: “MC... That’s my duty. As Countess of Vesuvia, as Princess of Prakra... as your lover. I will do what no one else can. I will drag this world, kicking, screaming, and ungrateful, to safety.”

Again, Nadia is the only one who can do this. She will drag this world “kicking, screaming, and ungrateful, to safety” — she knows she will not be thanked, or praised, but it is necessary. It is for their own good. Nadia knows best, and Nadia can only trust herself to get things done.

MC: “We’re in this together, Nadia. I’m coming with you.”

NADIA: “You cannot follow me into the darkness, MC.”

(It should be noted that Kevin MacLeod’s “Wounded” is playing during this. This is the tragic piano that is also heard in Asra’s route on the Lazaret. I mention this because the tragic piano always fucks me up emotionally, so y’all have to suffer too.)

Nadia’s line — “You cannot follow me into the darkness” — is typical of a Tragic Hero who wishes to protect others, especially their love interest. Using my prior two examples from Dragon Age: Inquisition and The 100:

When a Lavellan Inquisitor who romanced Solas tells him, “let me help you, Solas,” Solas says: “I cannot do that to you, vhenan.”

When Bellamy Blake asks Clarke to stay at her home, instead of impose self-exile, Clarke says: “I bear it so they [her people] don’t have to.”

The point of these kinds of statements is this: This terrible undertaking is my responsibility alone; only I can accomplish this impossible feat; I do not want you to be hurt; I would rather something happen to me than you.

But where the Tragic Hero usually succeeds in isolating themself from their love interest, MC inverts this aspect of the archetype: they convince Nadia to let them accompany her to the Devil’s realm. If MC had told Nadia in earlier books, “I’d follow you anywhere,” this is truly an echo of that sentiment: MC is willing to go to Hell for Nadia Satrinava.

THE HIEROPHANT: “If you go down this path, you cannot hesitate. If you lose your nerve, he will come back. If you waver, he will see it. If you do this, you need to mean it.”

NADIA: “To keep the world safe. To keep MC safe... I’ll do anything. I won’t lose.”

It’s important to state Nadia does not want to become the Devil on her own merits. It’s not a power grab (at least, not consciously). She realizes it is dangerous. She genuinely sees no other option to end the Devil’s threat, and thus save the world, that does not risk harm to MC. As stated before, MC is the closest thing Nadia has to an ally: it makes sense she is unwilling to consider any options that have even the slightest chance of her losing MC. It makes sense that she is willing to do “anything” to keep MC safe.

She is constantly stating there is “no other choice,” even though the other characters (Valerius and the High Priestess) offer alternatives, namely binding the Devil in his own realm (what happens in the Upright end). It is not that she is not hearing these alternatives, or unwilling to listen to reason: it is that they are unacceptable to her, by virtue of the danger posed to MC. It is that [Solas voice] every alternative was worse. It is that [Solas voice] terrible choices are all that remain. If you have to kill Stranger A to save 100,000 lives, and someone offers Stranger B to kill instead of Stranger A, it is an unacceptable alternative.

An essential aspect of the Tragic Hero is colossal mistakes in judgement. In Nadia’s case, this would obviously be her decision to replace the Devil’s Arcana. But this has been reinforced to her over the course of 20 books through critical decisions made earlier in her route:

Not talking to Nadia’s sisters, which accomplishes two things: 1) reinforces to Nadia that you are on her side; 2) reinforces to Nadia that she is right to maintain her grudge against her sisters. Her first instinct is to resent her sisters. There is no challenge to Nadia to change her mind, or move past old hurts. She remains static, stubborn, and seeking to prove herself - not only to her sisters, but to herself.

Encouraging Nadia to cast out Portia, which reinforces to Nadia that she cannot trust, confide in, or believe others: she will always be betrayed. Nadia’s first instinct is to send Portia away. Agreeing with her reinforces that she is right to distrust everyone, and only believe in her own competence and ability. She remains static and closed off from others.

Encouraging Nadia to kill Lucio. Nadia’s first instinct is to kill him, as she sees “no other way”. MC agreeing with her reinforces to her that her decisions are best, and that sometimes there are no other choices, or at least [Solas voice] terrible choices are all that remain. She remains static and unchallenged in her viewpoint(s).

Part 2.1: Trusting Nadia

Nadia’s “betrayal” is framed as random, coming out of nowhere, and only for her own power. I was suspicious of this framing from the moment I saw it, because characters like Reversed Nadia — straddling the line between good and evil, isolated, pursuing their impossible feat — tend to place high priority on the people they love, to the point of over-protectiveness, obsession, and/or obsessive devotion. An excellent example would be Victor Fries/Dr. Freeze in the Batman comics, who is willing to commit evil acts in pursuance of his impossible feat to save his wife.

I never doubted Nadia’s love for MC, even in the reversed route. As stated before, Nadia thinks that MC is not like the others in her life, who are incompetent fools, or simpering power-seekers, or her detested sisters. They are unique. They are special. While she may not be able to trust them fully (again! everyone can betray her! she is the only one she can trust!), she certainly loves them for what they mean to her.

Working under the assumption that Nadia truly loves MC, then, following the precedents of other tragic characters who came before her, she would be utterly unwilling to allow any harm to come to MC. This would extend to her allegedly offering MC to the Devil without any remorse. I was more inclined to believe (even before I played the Reversed route) that it was some ruse of Nadia’s to trick the Devil.

And so imagine my surprise when Nadia and MC left the Hierophant’s realm to go to Nadia’s gate, and the book provided the following scene:

NADIA: “I have a plan, MC. Lucio failed to defeat the Devil. But that does not mean it cannot be done. Unfortunately... I cannot risk telling you. I need your reaction to be genuine. Will you be loyal to me, MC? Will you trust I want what’s best for you?”

MC: “Yes.”

NADIA: “Good. Everything that happens is for you, do you understand? Promise me you’ll remember I’ll always keep you safe.”

Boy, it would’ve been nice if someone mentioned this when discussing Nadia selling out MC!

This is such obvious foreshadowing of Nadia playing the long con it’s painful. She cannot tell MC her plan about how to deal with the Devil, because she needs MC’s reaction to be genuine; she needs MC to be surprised. If the Devil realizes he is being played, everything is over, and her efforts will have been for nothing.

For Nadia, the stakes are high. She either:

Tells her lover what her plan is, i.e. to use MC as a bargaining chip, which could have backfire in multiple ways: MC could be uncooperative, or MC could play their part unconvincingly to the Devil, and tip him off. She might stay with MC, but risk the world.

Or, she withholds it from MC, so that their surprise and shock (and, yes, feelings of betrayal) are genuine, and thus more convincing to the Devil. She loses MC, but saves the world.

Her decision is pragmatic: she will sacrifice MC, even if it means she loses MC’s love, for the greater good (saving the world). She understands that the healer has the bloodiest hands. She is accepting the blood to make things better. By choosing the second option, she is choosing to trust herself and her plan instead of trusting MC to pull off a successful deception. (In a similar vein: remember how much she enjoyed deceiving Valerius in Book 6, The Lovers.)

Still, she does not want to sacrifice MC, but sees no other way. It is painful, but for the greater good. Thus why she emphasizes why Her Decision Is Best, and In MC’s Best Interest: “Everything that happens is for you, do you understand? Promise me you’ll remember I’ll always keep you safe.”

You may be hurt, but it is for the greater good, don’t you understand? Don’t you trust me to do the right thing? Don’t you see that I have your best interests in mind? Don’t you see that you can trust me? That you should trust me?

She even goes so far as to test MC when MC promises her that they will know she’ll always keep MC safe. I call it a test, because that is what it undoubtedly is: she holds MC’s throat, and asks, “Even now?”

This is a lead-in for a premium scene, but it goes deeper than that. Implicitly, she is saying: Even when I have you so vulnerable, even with my hand around your throat, do you trust that I will keep you safe? Can I let myself believe you when you tell me that yes, you do trust me; that yes, you know I have your best interests at heart?

MC has the option of proving it to her (premium choice), or simply saying “yes”. I chose the latter. It is simple, and honest, and depending on people’s MCs, undoubtedly true. MC is willing to go to Hell at Nadia’s side; this is a minor thing, by comparison.

MC makes the interesting observation that Nadia looks at them “like a pet.” Sure, it could be a reference to Nadia’s obvious petplay kink, but I think it’s indicative of their deeper relationship: Nadia may love MC, but she does not consider them her true partner as she does in her Upright route. Again, she can only trust herself, no matter how important MC is to her, because MC, too, might end up disappointing her. They are lovers, and they are partners, but Nadia and MC are not equals (unlike in Upright). Nadia sees MC like a pet (to cherish, love, and care for, but not treat as equal) and I fully expect she will continue to do so in the next update.

Whether or not Nadia is aware that this isn’t the healthiest way to love someone is up in the air, but I’m inclined to believe that she is not aware, and she is demonstrating her love in the best way she knows how: protecting MC (which leads to making MC’s decisions for them), providing for them (which extends into petplay and spoiling), and praising them (you are special, you are unique, you are not like everyone else in my life, who disappoints me).

Later, approaching the Devil’s realm, she reminds MC of the conversation they had in her gate:

MC: “You have a plan. One you can’t tell me about.”

NADIA: “Yes. And I need you to trust me for it to work. Do you still trust me?”

MC: “I do.”

NADIA: “Good. Remember that when we’re in there.”

NADIA: “... I love you.”

(Edit March 22: Nadia’s sprite during her “I love you” line is her embarrassed/uncertain face. A subtle signal that she, too, has doubts, even if she’s trying to hide them.)

The whole point of the cliffhanger was to shock people, but I think that people who are saying that Nadia sold MC out for her own power are misguided. Nadia spent the entire book talking about how she had no choice but to do this and foreshadowing that she was going to do something that would be unpleasant but necessary. To say that Nadia sold MC to the Devil for her own power is to completely ignore everything that’s been set up throughout the book.

Also, if you still don’t trust her / consider her a bitch after I’ve gone through this whole section talking about how Reversed Nadia is a character type that would never let someone important to her (i.e., MC) come to harm (though she may use them for her own gains) and that it’s 99% likely she has no intention of actually following through on this “deal”... that says more about you than it does Nadia.

Part 2.2: The Dogs

The way the dogs were framed made me think that Nadia was straight up cruel to them. I thought the dogs were physically there, and Nadia was actually abusive to them (though I was inclined to believe it was neglect, not abuse. again, quibbling).

Considering Nadia’s treatment of the cheetah, and even the vampire leeches, I should not have taken these accounts at face value, because they are flat-out misleading (at best!).

For context, Nadia and MC have left Nadia’s Gate to go to the Devil’s realm. The Hierophant has just warned them of a perilous journey. They leave the Hierophant’s realm, go to Nadia’s Gate where they have the discussion about trust, and then enter the frozen forest background. What happens is the following:

MC: “Where are we?”

NADIA: “There are many roads connecting the realms. Lost paths in the dark. The forest is an illusion. It is likely our minds cannot comprehend the true shape of these spaces. Instead, the world changes into metaphors we can understand. But you must remember they are only metaphors, MC. Keep your wits about you.”

We continue walking, wary of every strange noise that flickers off the narrow path we follow. Every step we take causes more fog to swirl from the ground, until we can barely see in front of us once more. I hear a snarl behind us, close enough that I can feel the breath. Without thinking, I turn around to face it —

Two figures emerge from the fog, their mouths dripping red. Mercedes and Melchior. Everywhere the blood from their mouths drips onto the ground, a cluster of flowers sprout. When I look closer, I realize... they’re all poisonous.

NADIA: “They must have gone mad with Lucio’s death.”

She tugs me closer behind her, but the dogs don’t try to approach. They just haunt our steps like specters, snarling and howling.

(Edit March 22: I just realized Nadia tugs MC closer behind her after seeing the dogs. She’s putting herself between MC and perceived danger, i.e. the dogs, further reinforcing her fear of losing MC and determination to protect them against anything. But sure, she doesn’t care about MC at all and is only using them for her own power.)

None of the posts I saw discussing Nadia’s treatment of the dogs ever mentioned that this happens in the magical realms, or that Nadia and MC discuss the forest’s visions being metaphorical immediately before the dogs’ appearance. Which is a shame, because it completely removes any context of the scene and does the double whammy of demonizing Nadia.

I guess it’s easier and faster to type out “Nadia abused Mercedes and Melchior!” over “The magical forest in the Arcana realms manifested a bloody Mercedes and Melchior [whose sprites are their pomegranate juice sprites with a little bit of blood added] as a metaphor for the line that Nadia has crossed, i.e. killing Lucio, and the possible guilt that she is either not feeling at all or is feeling and is simply pushing away so she will not have to acknowledge it.”

But the dogs’ mere presence — they follow always at a distance, like ghosts — is enough to force her to recognize it. She remarks that they must have gone mad, and moves on. She has come too far now to doubt herself. If she looks back, if she doubts herself, she is lost, and everything will have been for naught.

Part 2.3: The High Priestess

Leaving the icy forest, Nadia and MC come upon an old pavilion, where the High Priestess and Chandra await them. MC notes that “the dogs wait [behind us], never coming closer.” Further evidence that the dogs are metaphorical visions, not actually Mercedes & Melchior.

THE HIGH PRIESTESS: “You’ve strayed far from the path, child.”

NADIA: “High Priestess. What are you doing here?”

THE HIGH PRIESTESS: “I was calling to you. Did you not hear?”

NADIA: “I have been quite busy, High Priestess. I did not have time to answer.”

Nadia’s personal card is The High Priestess. Reversed, the High Priestess means one is ignoring their own intuition and/or subconscious, to their detriment. In Asra’s Book X, Nadia states that her intuition is more like a curse than a gift, which certainly echoes here in the meaning of the High Priestess, Reversed: “Perhaps you doubt yourself or feel silly or guilty for listening to your intuition, and as a result, you deny your ability to tune in and receive this potent information.”

This conversation also echoes Judgement, Reversed: “The Judgement reversed often appears when the Universe is trying to send you a message and invite you to something bigger, but you’re not listening. You are doing your best to pretend you didn’t receive it and are [...] hoping it will go away.”

The conversation continues:

THE HIGH PRIESTESS: “And so I come to you. These are words you cannot ignore. If you continue down this path, Nadia, all will be lost to you. Your family. Your intuition. Your humanity.”

NADIA: “If I do nothing, I will lose it just the same.”

THE HIGH PRIESTESS: “You know there is another option. You can bind the Devil instead.”

NADIA: “What, and lose MC instead? Slap the Devil on the wrist and throw him in jail? He’ll break free eventually. What’s a thousand years to an immortal being? This is the only way. The only permanent way.”

Note she corrects herself: the only permanent way. She understands there are other alternatives, but hers is best. When the High Priestess offers a solution, binding the Devil, Nadia angrily rejects it because of the risk it poses to MC, and she is unwilling to lose MC again.

It’s important to note that, within the course of a few hours:

Nadia went with MC to confront Lucio in the in-between realms, only to watch (helplessly! a thing she detests!) as Lucio stole MC’s body. (The Devil)

Nadia woke up without MC beside her in her Contemplation Tower, not knowing what Lucio had done or what had happened to MC until she went to the ballroom. (The Devil / The Tower).

Nadia had to send MC to the magical realms for their own protection, alone, where she could not protect them or ensure their welfare (The Tower).

Nadia watched MC struggle to unbind Vlastomil, suffering in the process. MC passes out, and reversed Nadia states that MC “almost died” unbinding Vlastomil (The Moon).

That is four experiences of Nadia being unwillingly parted from MC, either through separation or through a near death experience. That is why she refused to let MC go through the maze alone in The Star. That is why she is so set on not risking MC once again with the plan to bind the Devil. The scene continues:

THE HIGH PRIESTESS: “In a thousand years there will be another like you to step up again. Why must you do everything yourself? Why must you alone fight this threat?”

NADIA: “Because I am the only one I can trust.”

Nadia turns away, anger flashing in her eyes.

NADIA: “You have wasted your time in coming here, High Priestess.”

me 24 hours ago, blissfully unaware of this conversation: mc has spent 20 chapters reinforcing that nadia is the only one nadia can trust me now: wow i hate being right :(

An essential component of the Tragic Hero’s cycle is the hero’s isolation: disgusted by or despairing of the hero’s choices, their family, friends, and allies abandon them, or the hero themself abandons their family, friends, and allies to self-isolate. In Nadia’s case, it is both. She rejects the High Priestess’s wisdom, confident in her own choices (or, at least, unwilling to show the High Priestess that she is anything but 100% confident). In doing so, she pushes the High Priestess away.

And then there’s Chandra, who lands on Nadia’s shoulder and “nips at her ear sadly.” (The tragic piano is still going strong in the background!) The High Priestess, seeing this, says that Chandra “mourns [Nadia’s] loss already.” MC notes that Nadia “swallows hard, stroking Chandra’s neck gently,” and then the following exchange happens:

NADIA: “Must I lose you too, Chandra?”

The owl chirps and flies off her shoulder, going to land next to the High Priestess instead.

NADIA: “... I see. You will come around in time. You will see how necessary this is. Until then... goodbye, my friends.”

Like the dogs, I’m inclined to believe that Chandra is a metaphor, and not the actual owl. Chandra has been with Nadia since her childhood; she is the only thing Nadia took with her, from Prakra to Vesuvia. Chandra abandoning her is another metaphor for how far Nadia has fallen: she is utterly separated from who she once was. She is now, completely, a new person, unrecognizable to her closest and longest friend.

NADIA: “I know I’m right. I know this is the only path to victory... So why won’t anyone listen to me? It feels like I’m speaking to a wall. Do they think me foolish? I’ve considered every possibility. I’ve examined every other avenue. This is the only course of action left. They think I cannot do this. They think me incompetent.”

This is after Nadia leaves the High Priestess, and before the Hierophant informs them that Valdemar and Vulgora are attacking the palace. Note the progression of her thoughts: frustration and certainty in her own decision; questioning why other people think her choice is the wrong one; re-affirming her certainty; assuming that people who do not support her plan are like that not because of any concern for her welfare, but because they doubt her capabilities. I know I am right, but no one listens to me; thus, they are not truly concerned for me — they only think I cannot do this.

Implicitly, her thoughts that follow: Well, I am going to prove them wrong.

MC can either tell Nadia that they listen to her (to which Nadia praises MC, once again: You are special; you have always been by my side; I know I can trust you, unlike everyone else in the world), or that people who don’t listen are foolish. If the latter, Nadia agrees, saying that people who don’t listen to her end up not doing well, and cites Lucio as an example.

In either case, the exchange reinforces Nadia’s mindset, which has been shown through Nadia’s small vent: She feels as if no one is listening to her, and she is stubbornly convinced that her choice is the best one. She is frustrated that her friends and allies have turned against her, and she does not understand why, because clearly Her Choice Is Best.

If MC says they are listening, it reinforces that MC is the only one Nadia can keep close (as close as she can allow; trust no one but yourself, after all, is her modus operandi). If MC says the others are the foolish ones, it reinforces that Nadia is Always Right, because when people don’t listen to Nadia, they end up going astray or being worse-off, which just feeds into the cycle of Nadia is Right >> People Who Don’t Listen To Her Are Wrong >> Those People Suffer or Fail >> Thus Proving Nadia Right.

Part 3: Her Sisters

For me, this was easily the most heartbreaking aspect of the book. Nadia leaves the High Priestess angry, and she and MC arrive in a vision of Lucio’s wing. Nadia remains unswayed, telling MC they must keep going (if she looks back, if she falters, she is lost!), but MC, if selecting “I think this is real,” convinces Nadia to go to the ballroom, because Nadia wonders about why her sisters and guards are not stopping the chaos. (Implied in this statement: Why are they incompetent? Why are they useless? Why does everything fall apart without me?) The music is played sped up and backwards, symbolic of how wrong things are without Nadia’s presence.

In the ballroom, MC and Nadia find Natiqa, Nasmira, and Nahara attempting to get the crowds to safety, but the crowd isn’t listening to the Satrinavas. Then Nafizah sees MC and Nadia, and the following absolutely gut-wrenching exchange occurs:

Suddenly Nafizah, who is standing off to the side of her sisters, turns her head and looks straight at us.

NAFIZAH: “Like looking through a mirror into the fog... Why are you so far from us, sister mine?”

NADIA: “You can see us? Of course you can. Why should I be surprised?”

NAFIZAH: “The others need you here. They flounder without your guidance.”

NADIA: “Need me? NEED ME?”

Nadia’s sprite when she says “Need me? NEED ME?” is not an angry sprite. It’s her laughing sprite. You can just hear the angry disbelief. NEED ME? What are you talking about? Immediately with her next line, her sprite transitions into anger.

NADIA: “Since when have any of you needed me for anything? Perfect Nafizah, always looking down your nose at me. All of you did!”

NAFIZAH: “We have only ever loved you, Nadia. As much as you have allowed. The people are in a panic. They will not listen to us. They do not respect us. You must return.”

NADIA: “I will not! All my life, none of you have ever listened to me! You always thought you knew best! I’m doing what has to be done. If I returned, it would give the true villain time to escape. I’m striking now. You will see. And don’t you dare die before I’ve proven myself.”

And don’t you dare die before I’ve proven myself. Holy shit. Cold, but understandable, when taken into the context surrounding Nadia’s relationship with her sisters.

The youngest of seven, Nadia has always felt inadequate to the rest of her sisters. That is clear even in the early route, when she worries that Nasmira will take MC away from her. She is obsessed with proving herself to her sisters. It’s why she married Lucio, to prove to her sisters that she could pull Vesuvia up by its bootstraps. Reversed, that obsession is maintained, and she has no reason to change because MC does not challenge her.

When asking for her sisters for help in Book XIII Death, she blames the servants for the Masquerade troubles: “I have everything under control, of course. But the servants, they’ve made a mess of things.” It is not her fault that the Masquerade is not ready, it is the servants’; she has everything under control, she is perfectly adequate at hosting a party on such a grand scale. Do not blame me for these failures, sisters, blame others, it is they who are incompetent and untrustworthy, not me.

Now we have even more context for Nadia’s choice to replace the Devil. Not only does Nadia feel the need to achieve her impossible feat — defeating the Devil — for the sake of saving the world and her lover, but as the ultimate way to prove herself to her sisters. They can never consider her a vulnerable baby sister to be coddled and over-protected if she literally defeats the actual Devil.

In her Reversed route, she is still pressured to show both her sisters and herself that she is not the “baby” of the family, which she resents (see the bonus scene about Nadia’s birthday). Considering Nadia is the oldest of the cast, this is obviously a deep, deep wound that stretches back decades, if not her entire life. And MC’s choices did nothing to heal that wound, only keep it open.

Part 4: Wrap Up

Nadia in her Reversed route is a textbook tragic hero. She is a character of royalty (fulfilling antiquity’s requirement that tragic heroes be noble of some sort, because nobility’s fall is always more tragic than a commoner’s); she seeks to accomplish an impossible feat; she isolates herself from her allies, friends, and family; she has a fatal flaw, which is her hubris, aka her conviction that she is in the right no matter what. We have had 20 books of buildup leading to this: the climax of her negative character development. All that remains is the denouement (aka, defeating and replacing the Devil.)

I have every expectation that she will succeed in her impossible feat, but the consequences will be catastrophic. Perhaps she will have to (however unwillingly) isolate herself from MC forever. MC might even become the Fool Arcana to join her, but that is no guarantee that they could actually be together. The Arcana are meant to stay in their separate realms, after all.

The devs promised a bittersweet ending, or a tragic romance. Nadia’s route fulfills both, because the ending is focused on MC and their relationship to their LI, not necessarily the reader’s favorite character, which may hypothetically be a relatively minor antagonist relative to the rest of the route.

Part 5: Last Thoughts

thanks for coming to my ted talk

#nadia satrinava #the arcana #my meta #the arcana spoilers #if u liked this pls reblog i worked v hard umu

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starbuck09256 · 5 years

Text

A picture in the sand

Episode Fic

Unruhe

Pictures in the Sand

Author: @starbuck09256

For: Kasey Slippin Mickeys

Rating: Teen (I did use the f word not sorry)

First a huge Shot Out to @gaycrouton for putting this goodie together. Girl you are fantastic. I can’t wait to read your fic and everyone else's!

My prompt was Unruhe and that it should take place in Traverse City with another woman goes missing. I followed it mostly. I rewatched the episode about 9 times, which isn’t bad I like the ep anyway. Here is my angsty (as requested) interpretation.

Not gonna lie, I’m really terrible at procrastinating so this is very much not Beta’d I apologize for spelling and grammar errors. Just happy to barely make the deadline.

6am Dana Scully's Apartment

She wheels her suitcase next to the end table. Not paying attention she swings it to far and the picture frame on top falls and shatters to the newly stained wood flooring. “Shit” Scully mutters before moving her suitcase to find all the shards of broken glass. She picks up the frame staring at a picture of her and Melissa at a family picnic at the beach from a few years ago. Melissa’s glowing smile staring back at her, she traces the pattern of Melissa’s dress remembering Melissa spinning them around in the sand, letting the tiny pebbles crush against their toes. Like they used to do in San Diego. Melissa had been galavanting around the world and had just gotten back her smile to be with family, the lightest Dana had seen her in the last few years. Scully thought it was just because Melissa had finally gone to all the places she talked about endlessly in the dark confines of their shared room. Scully sighs, she remembers that dress Melissa wore in a different context too, one where she is helping their mom pack it away in a donation bin. Melissa so much taller than Scully, it didn’t make sense for Scully to keep it in the back of her closet as a reminder of the women who embodied the bright color and flowy design. The picture inside the jagged frame not scratched and torn right on the side of Melissa dress. The irony isn’t lost as she sits there on the floor where Melissa bled out in between the wood slates a bullet meant for Scully, a life meant for Melissa. She can’t help feeling that the last two years have been so unfair, she is no closer to justice for her sister, no closer to finding the answers of where Duane Berry took her. Now as the nightmares have increased she thinks of the women in Allentown all dying slowly, she wonders if she is next in line. If this picture of her and her sister will find its home on her moms mantle along with catholic candles that flicker in and out of all the lives tragically cut short by senseless violence. Scully presses the picture into the front pouch of her suitcase. Vowing to find a new frame to hold the precious photo right when she gets back from their new case in Michigan.

She’s only been to Michigan a couple of times. The only real fact about the state that she loved is no matter where you are you are within 7 miles of water. The water calls to her, always has, from years of watching her father navigate it’s depths to summers spent at camps with giant lakes that at night made you feel like you might as well be in the middle of the ocean. She remembers briefly staying once and seeing the shores of the great lake as it extended out for miles. From her seat at the window she looks out to the expanse of trees and meadows the clouds just above the horizon. Mulder shifts against her. His head resting in her lap on his coat. It’s been a weird few months between bounty hunters and his moms stroke he is more restless than normal. The case brought to them because of the weird photo of a girl seemingly screaming into the camera. Mulder ever elusive with his information he likes to dangle clues and hints to her but never the full story. It use to be fun, this game they play him trying to get her to open her mind to the fantastic to make connections and leaps with scraps of information. Now though it just gets on her nerves. Why not just tell her the facts? Does he think she is so closed minded that she will refuse to go? She wants to refuse. Start standing up for herself more, part of her is tired of seeing these women taken, beaten, lives destroyed in the end does it even matter the how? Is the why so important? What about stopping it? Lately she feels like they are only there for the aftermath, taken to a point so far outside of plausible. She’s getting tired of being taken herself. He mumbles in his sleep and shifts closer to her. That’s the real problem she thinks, how close they are and yet not at all. While they spend endless hours together, eating, sleeping in crappy motel rooms, driving miles and miles of road and for what? to be put in danger constantly?

The larger part of her though finds it still so thrilling. The challenge the way his eyes light up when he gets a new case and they go back and forth it's why he dangles clues and hints. He loves seeing her mind work, and in truth she loves the challenge. She looks at the photo again, the edging is distorted the colors blending together. She isn’t sure how you would capture an image like this, how the abductor took such a photo. She presses her finger down on the edge looking at the long lines on the side, a face to the far right what is that? A reflection? She wonders what the image is trying to say. She thinks of the photos of her and Melissa torn and stuffed into her roller bag under the seat. She thinks back to all the photos she has taken over the years the others that grace her mantel in tiny rows. Her brothers photo with his new wife how he blames her openly for Melissa's death. As if she didn't already blame herself. She thinks of those women in Allentown how they said they are all dying, the photos they showed her of others like them that have passed on. She has an appointment in 3 months for more scans. She joined the mufon group and has been getting emails of members passing away one by one. Leaving children and husbands behind. She would only leave behind sad plants and half finished articles for medical journals and Mulder. How would he do with a new partner, she thinks back to Jerry whom he just described as a colleague. Is that all she would be to him in the end? A colleague a good friend? There have been moments when she thought they would be more. Melissa certainly thought they would be. Melissa's’ constant insistence that Mulder was the compliment to Scully's stubborn soul. Scully wonders if this is going to be the end will he be her last? She's never missed having a lover. But lately she wishes her bed wasn't so lonely. Now as Melissa has pointed out she has in fact put everything and everyone on hold for this search of theirs, to find answers for him and now for her. In the past she has found men who are obsessed with things it seems. The latest one resting in her lap. She swallows hard, sleeping with Mulder would be a terrible idea, but if there weren't consequences because she would be gone in a few months? She tries to clear her conscience about it all, her recent scans were fine but the emails of more and more members with the same type of cancer in exactly the same spot are more than scaring her. Mulder is scared too, she now stops mentioning when another one has been laid to rest. She’s seen his fear shining into her eyes when she gets even a cold. Imagine what cancer from a lover would do to the man? She would never do that to him. If the dedication he has for his annoyingly little sister is anything. The rabbit hole he would fall down if they were more and she was taken by the disease from her abduction would kill him.

She thinks about her mother and father, how after his death the strong capable of anything Margaret Scully faltered. At first her mom said she could pretend for a few minutes in the morning that he was still at sea, that his smile would grace her eyes soon as he would sweep her into a deep hug that warmed her bones. Then she would remember, remember that time was short. Missy's death certainly didn't help. Losing a child is something that no parent should ever bare. She had asked Dana to give her antidepressants, and while it scared Scully to the core it renewed her mother's faith in God. That that was the only way she could keep going, knowing that her Ahab would be there waiting for a life eternal and her sweet daughter's spirit would be free. But Melissa's death had done the opposite for Scully, she has scene so much injustice so many things that make her doubt God's word that now she has become skeptical and even cynical in so many ways. Mulder has seen it in her and while she wears her cross everyday part of it is just because it reminds her of Melissa. It reminds her to try and fight. She will fight till the bitter end. Even if that is sooner than she wants to believe. Mulder shifts slightly again and she moves the picture through her fingers. Tries to put that skepticalness to the side. Tries to think like Mulder would. Why would the killer leave it at the scene? How did he get it beforehand? Was he stalking her? She taps on the photo again and moves back to the case file, shifting just slightly careful to not disturb Mulder.

She reads the report over and over until her eyes want to water at the dry dead air of the cabin. The sun is seeping through the light onto Mulders hair now, his features almost boyish in sleep. She is usually the one sleeping against him even if flying isn’t her favorite thing. She squirms in her seat a bit wishing secretly that Mulder would wake up so she can lay against his shoulder and catch a few minutes of sleep herself. She moves her hand, fingers brushing through his hair. She knows he doesn’t mind, though he still teases her a little when she does it in doctor mode. She sees his small smile and he starts to move. She gives him a soft smile back as he rubs his eyes looking at her with the translucent clouds shading the sun as it shines dimly on her hair. He reaches up and touches her cheek to sweep a stray strand off her face. “Your turn” it’s almost a whisper. She smiles gratefully as he moves and positions his jacket against his shoulder for her to rest against. She sighs as she snuggles into the warm fabric. Mulder pulls the shade down against the morning dawn as they continue to soar through the air.

2 hours later

She wakes dimly to the voice of the captain letting them know they are starting their dissent into Grand Rapids. Traverse city looms another 2 hours away along the lake coast. It’s interesting the rules they have made through the years. They never discuss a case on a flight and so that time has been devoted to them reading books sometimes playing cards. Arguing over which mythical creature is the most likely to exist. Or more often than not it’s like this morning's flight snuggled against each other asleep. She hears Mulders soft snores against her head. The last few months she has been more worried about his sleeping habits especially after she told him what she found in Allentown. More often he comes in with dark circles and the extra coffee through the day has not gone unnoticed. She can’t complain though, because despite all of this he still is there in the morning to greet her, with a steaming cup to chase away her own night terrors. Places like planes offer a few moments of peace that the other one is safe, and that they are together. She tries not to analyze it too much. Tries to rationalize the fact that they have been through some truly horrible things and are bound to have some strong ptsd and codependency issues. She doesn’t want to love him that way. She likes them just being friends. She wants a bit more out of life, especially if there is less available to her, seeing all of these things over the years she is wondering what she is really fighting for anymore if not for Melissa maybe she would have already left. Is it to be flying off to save women from abductions? Is she trying to find validity in her choice to prove to herself that giving up medicine to become an FBI agent was really the best decision? Is she now leading herself down a path to have another Jack or even worse another Daniel?

She knows that Mulder is in love with her. She knows that he has become just as dependent on her as she has on him. She doesn’t want that, she doesn’t want a world where the two of them can only exist with the other. She has become consumed by this quest of his and paid so dearly, and now here they are chasing a lead on a case they really have no business on. She knows that it’s about the picture. He sees something or knows something she doesn’t. She’ll have to wait for the drive into town to find out.

As they reach the drugstore she is lost in the sea that is the investigation, while she looks at expired film heating beneath it parts of the edging make sense, if the film is expired and the heat has distorted the edges. But the screaming that is odd, when she points these things out to Mulder he finally explains his theory. She sees a photo booth in the drugstore small and yet she wonders if the film has been tampered here too. Mulder must think something similar as he grabs her hand just as she finishes her questions to the owner. “This film shouldn’t have the same distortion if my theory is correct.” he mutters pulling her into the small intimate photo booth. She sighs “Mulder,” she starts but he pulls her down and she is sitting right next to him and he’s smiling and pointing to the camera. She gives him the look, the one that shows she is not amused, but he wraps his arm around her leans forward to start the series of 5 photographs of them. He tries to do bunny ears and the camera catches her laughing at it. She sticks out her tongue in the next and so does he. The third picture is just them stern and serious. The fourth a soft smile from both of them. The fifth begins to click and he makes a kissy face and her grin lights up the tiny booth. Its short lived and while she thinks the exercise is pointless the film proves to be unaffected. She waits for Mulder to throw the pictures away but he doesn’t he pulls out his wallet and tucks them in with a 20 dollar bill and 2 ones. She shakes her head, he asks the owner if they can take a few more photos with the same film. “I think the picture is the key to this Scully,” he leaves and she follows him out.

They drive to the girls house, pictures on the fridge of a normal couple. Lost in moments together, traveling, and laughing. She wonders if they will find this girl alive, if these will be the last time she smiles. She thinks of moments when her and Mulder where sure that it was the end. She thinks of the pictures of them in his wallet. What a stranger would think. What she thinks of this closeness that has grown between them.

He takes the camera “Watch out scully it’s loaded,” and he points it right at her but the picture that comes out is of the girl distorted again and she looks up at him confused. He starts to tell her more about his growing theory, how these pictures are the key Psychic photography. She hates this, she hates looking at cases and having him come up with something so crazy she has to try and wrap her mind around it. She always gives him the benefit of the doubt listens to his theories, but sometimes she just wants a simple explanation. Maybe she is just burned out. It happens to everyone with all the things that have happened to them she hasn’t had a chance to take a break. She wants to talk about this more but as always he is already getting ready to leave. “He was here I think he stalked her.” As they step out into the bright sunshine her phone starts to ring, letting them know that Mary has been found wandering and disoriented.

At the hospital Scully is faced with looking in the hollow eyes of the woman on the fridge, one that won’t be smiling again as pain and inevitable death beacon her near. The scans don’t lie, Mary is facing a very difficult road of recovery if that is even possible. As Scully stares at the scans as Mulder goes to grab them something resembling coffee she thinks of Betsy in Allentown, about those women with tumors at the same spot as Marys unfortunate lobotomy. Mulder has sense Scully's distance and luckily has chosen to back off, leaving her with the time she needs to figure things out. Scully is deep in thought when Mulder returns he sets down the coffee letting the steam rise up and wafted into her nose. It’s a beautiful smell coffee, seems the fine people of Traverse City understand its importance. Mulder touches her shoulder gently a sad smile across his lips as he stars at the scans once more. Just as the uniform officer comes in and tells them another woman has been taken. Anger boils through Scully, whomever this guy is he has no idea what he is doing and unless they find him soon she is afraid of another poor woman facing the same fate. Mulder throws the rental keys to her knowing that right now he needs time to look over the details from the officer, starting working up a profile right away. Precious time is ticking fast as she presses her foot down on the pedal. This is her strength driving fast and a little more reckless than Mulder ever has. It annoys him, how much she speeds and whips into places. It’s why he drives most of the time in reality. Because she got tired of hearing him complain about her going to fast, but time is of the essence. They are following a patrol car the blue and red lights flash into the fading sun. As they race around the corner. Mulder finally looks up at her his voice catches in his throat. “Mary will never be the same will she?” Scully shakes her head in sadness. “We need to find this person, and fast” She nods and throws the car into park, throwing her seatbelt off dashing to the scene. They need a clue, a hint, and hopefully something more than a screaming girl in a fucking polariod.

Just as they get there they realize that the rush wasn’t necessary, Scully needs to review the file as Mulder heads right inside to assist. Another man dead another woman taken and nothing to go on. Mulder doesn’t find any cameras or film, in the car as he was thinking through the profile he wonders about the word Unruhe, a place? A thing? A person? It sounds like it’s a word. He asks one of the officers to use the computer quickly typing the word into a search box as he continues shuffling through 1040s and spreadsheets. Scully walks in the file in her hand, a killer like this she thinks might have been there might have been at the scene. As they argue again over the photograph she feels the frustration of the day, of the inevitable failure that might await them if they can’t find something quickly. Mulder is ready to head back to Washington, to find the clues that have eluded them so that she can save the next victim. Both of them know that time is limited and Alice doesn’t have long, while she thinks him going back to Washington is a mistake, it’s really not that long of a flight and the bureau does have some fantastic resources. She sighs hangs her head and works her connection. It seems that for them, when they go their separate ways they form a complete picture in the end.

She watches as he races out leaving her the keys to the rental car as he hitches a ride back again. She works through the evening and well into the night in a small motel with a view of Grand Traverse Bay on Lake Michigan. She opens the window and listens to the water softly kissing the sand while the moonlight shines off the lakes black opals and into the darkness. Mulder calls her lets her know his planes has landed and he has been able to get a forensic photographer to help him first thing in the morning. She lets him know that Mary Lefont died and she fears that the same will be true for Alice if the construction owner has hired men off the books. Mulder sighs, “You caught that Scully, you found us a tangible lead as soon as I find something out with this photo I’ll call you it should help you refine it” She hums in response right now she is looking at a list of 300 people in the apartments next to the latest abduction. She sighs and says she is tired before hanging up. She knows that sleep will be hard fought tonight, it’s already almost 3am. She walks out of the hotel towards the Bay listens to the waves as they crash against the shore with a dullness. While the stars shine brightly out beyond the black depths of the lake she thinks of Mary, about those pictures of her smiling in those photos on the fridge. Her toes are in the rough sand from the lake, not like the sand that she and Melissa danced to in the photo. She wonders of Alice's family will have similar photos on their mantel of another woman taken in her 30s. She hopes that the station can pull up something on the construction workers, they need this lead. Regardless of the success Mulder thinks he will find she needs the tangible investigative skills of the mortal realm. She walks back to her room, letting the moonlight chase her form across the soft swirls of the water. She falling into a lifeless deep sleep while the dull ticking of Alice's life lingers in the background.

In the morning after she wrestles Gerry to the ground. She thinks back about the pictures she has of Ahab of the two of them at her medical school graduation, her white coat and his proud smile. She wonders after all the terrible things that have happened to her would he still be so proud? Or would his smile have dimmed like that glossy paper it was printed on. Would her own eyes shine as brightly as they did that day ever again? Or had the 3 months she missed, the sister she mourned be evident through the lense. She knew the risks was aware of the horror she would face. Lately she feels as if she is facing a far more looming nightmare. Another birthday another lonely night with no prospects of changing. Mulder and her might be pushing that line in the sand between acceptable partnerly behavior but it’s a not a road she is ready to take, nor is she sure she wants too. She loves him, she knows this after so many dangerous situations, hours and days spent together how could she not. She thinks of the other pictures she knows he keeps in his wallet. The one of him and Sam, sometimes she thinks she still sees that young innocent kid staring back at her. His devilish grin when he shows her the fantastic. The way his face lights up just a little when she pulls out his favorite sunflower seeds when he was sure they were out. Does he see it in her? Does he see the young agent who was new to the field but prepared for the boys club? Does he see the same smile and young ambition she once was so consumed with that she let the rest of her life slip away? She’s getting older her birthday just passing and she thinks about the fact that now she is as old as Melissa was when she died. She thinks about the pictures they won’t take, about the people now missing from the Christmas dinners, the Sunday brunch, the nephews birthday parties. Her phone rings and it’s Mulder he booked the first flight back and is already on his way to the precinct. She wants to know where Alice Bryant is she wants them to win one for once. Mulder wants her to wait until they can interrogate Gerry together. They are so good together, she knows. The two of them play off each other so well with suspects. Mulder seems crazy and she seems scary and she loves it. She loves the power it gives her. She loves seeing justice and fear mingle together in the room. She hopes they are scared, hopes that the suspects feel even the small degree of fear that they cause their victims to feel. It is that feeling that has kept her with the FBI, she loves being the one to find the evidence and then confront the suspect with her findings. Mulder is in a way the perfect partner for her. He steps back lets her take the lead, knows that if anyone will find something tangible to hang a case on it’ll be her.

Gerry gives them a location, and as they race to find her, she can’t help but be angry at Gerry seeing her as troubled. She isn’t troubled is she? Conflicted? Scared? Maybe. She doesn’t want to overthink a psychopaths words. She learned long ago from Mulders profiles how they use words and gestures to gain trust. Luther Lee Boggs being a prime example for them both.

Scully races up the hill hoping and praying that they can find Alice alive, and hopefully not as damaged as Mary, but as she makes it to the top, Alices still form crushes her thoughts. She touches Alices’ cold skin, her cheeks. Watches as the CS tech starts to take photos of the scene. More photos, more death, and now another body. At least Gerry is in custody. At least they saved the future woman that he might have tortured and killed. Mulder meets her at the car, her anger rolls off her in waves like the lake shore. Maybe tonight she will sit on the shore and cry, no one would be able to hear her sobs over the water. She wants to leave to go home and fix her broken frame try to not think of photos and sand and lives that could have been. She can’t drive and though she wanted to be in control she hands the keys to Mulder so they can drive back to their hotel and clean up. She needs to wash the failure she feels down the drain. It doesn’t work that way, Gerry shot the police officer that was processing him, they put out an APB but her mind can only race about possible new victims he already might be on his way to take.

They look at the photo of the officer on the paperwork, Mulder is right the photos are probably the key. God who else did Gerry take a photo of? Who else is going to deal with a madman telling them they are troubled and killing them to fix it?

Apparently the benefit of Traverse City being smaller than most major metropolitan areas is when you need to steal something you pick the same drugstore you stalked your victims. Gerry has assaulted the owner and taken more film. They walk through the drugstore one more time, she thinks of the apartment complexes on each side and tells Mulder as such as he once again puts money into the photo machine. She looks at him in curiosity, last time they went in this time he is letting it roll without them. HIs theory has developed and isn’t ready to share just yet, she knows he will explain in the car. She wants to get going, he tosses her the keys and she walks out into the bright sun.

She doesn’t remember much she remembers her foot hurting from the injection remembers the struggle as she tries to get her gun. She wakes strapped to a chair with Gerry in the dark corner as her eyes try to adjust to the light. Her arms taped down roughly the large sheetrock tool on the shiny metal table. She wants to plead in a responsible way. Gerry knows that this is the end, she can’t let him think that she will be part of his prize. She doesn’t remember much of her German important phrases and it takes her a few moments to come up with what to say to him. Especially since conversational german was the only class she ever got a B in. Luckily the words are there, as if her mind knows to channel the knowledge buried so deep. Gerry gets up to grab the camera, she sees her chance if she can get the tray she can cut her restraints and take him out. She needs to stall, she needs Mulder to have time to find her. She wants to give him time, She asks Gerry about his own Howlers about the trouble with his father. She channels Mulder and knows what brothers will do for sisters. Her own brother would do for her and Melissa. Gerry pulls the tray away and takes the camera to take her picture once more. She struggles with thinking that the photos she took with Mulder in that small cramped little booth won’t be the last ones he sees of her. He will see her on the floor of the padded room in a weird distorted photo that will filter into his dreams for years to come. But luck is on her side and she is able to convince Gerry to take a photo of himself. The camera flash is almost blinding, she knows he is sick she just needs to show him that this has always been about him and not anyone else. The photos come out in a small series of flashes, they wait for the polarization to show the image. She feels vindicated when they show him dead, show him his fate. That justice is finally with her. She just hopes it doesn’t plan on taking her with him. Gerry flips through the photos over and over. Questioning the images, like Mulder did. What do they mean? She hopes they mean that her life will be hers again, that she will be able to see the waves and shore once more. But Gerry thinks it’s about time, that his time is ending and he must hurry. Fear runs through her body a surge of adrenaline as she tugs and struggles against the restraints. She thinks about the time she almost drowned, how it felt struggling in the water, wondering why something so beautiful and peaceful would try to take her life. How she would gasp and flail her arms in sheer panic, like now as she hears Mulder calling her name. God Mulder please please prove that picture true and he does. Thank god he does. She feels him release her final bonds reach out his hand to take hers. She feels the storm calming inside of her, like Mulder is a life preserve her around her waist pulling her up against the tide. She walks out of the dark trailer, walks past the paramedics straight to the lakeshore. She takes off her heels, the prick of the injection still stings but the sand and the wind and the waves cradle her in their embrace. She takes a deep breath, lets the air of the misty water fill her lungs up. She takes a moment to look down at her feet in the sand and as she looks up she almost swears she sees Melissa in the distance dancing on a distant shore.

tagging @today-in-fic @gaycrouton @xfilesfanficexchange @improlificinsarcasm

#xfepisode2019 #mulder and scully #unruhe #s4 #fanfic #msr #angst #myfic #xfchallenge #so glad to be done #man I need a beer #this was a toughie #hope you like it Kasey!

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