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sinofwriting · 8 months

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Made For Each Other - Max Verstappen

Words: 3,486 Summary: Max never put much stock into love at first sight until meeting her. Note(s)/Warning(s): Near Physical Cheating, Some Emotional Cheating (on Kelly not reader). So this is the toxic!max fic I mentioned and uh yeah this isn’t super like toxic but it’s something. Also, I will not apologize for inserting found family into this fic.

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“What?” Max presses his lips together, jaw twitching and he’s happy that P isn’t here, but with Daniil’s parents. “Things haven’t been good for us in awhile.” Maybe ever. He thinks and nearly winces, because they had been good in the beginning. But things had changed halfway through the 2021 season and it had only gotten worse as the weeks and months went on. “Kelly, it is unfair to you for me to pretend that I want to be with you anymore.” He nearly says that once the season was over he was already planning on breaking up with her, but manages to hold his tongue. She’s looking at him in that way that he hates, that’s caused arguments because it reminds him of his father. “What do you want me to tell P?” He can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him at her easy acceptance. “Tell her that I will always love her and that if she ever wants to talk to me, she can call and I’ll do my best to answer.” “Okay.” Her voice is quiet and she looks around his apartment. “There shouldn’t be much here, but what you do find, have it shipped to me.” “Of course.”

He watches as Kelly walks towards the front door and maybe he shouldn’t say anything, doesn’t want to give her false hope, but he can’t help it. “Kelly.” She stops, her hand on the door knob ready to turn it. “Thank you for the past few years and all your support.” He sees her shoulders move as she sighs. “Your welcome, Max.” And then she turns the handle and walks out of his apartment.

He watches the door for a moment, feeling like if he looks away, suddenly she’ll be back. But the handle doesn’t turn and he’s spinning around to move to the couch where he had thrown his phone when Kelly had unexpectedly come here.

His thumb quickly moves across the screen, opening his last text message thread and sending a simple text.

I broke up with her.

It stares up at him and three dots appear along with those little check marks and he can’t help but smile. And god if the media could see him now, smiling after just breaking up with his girlfriend of so long, they’d use this as some sort of proof that he is the devil.

And now what?

His smile grows and his thumb moves again.

And now I come to you.

—

“You know, I thought you athletes had to train. Keep fit for the season.” She teases as he watches her move around her small kitchen. “I’ve barely been here a day and you’re kicking me out?” She shakes her head at him. “No it’s just I know that China got canceled, but you do have another race soon.” He shrugs, “It’s at the very end of the month. Besides, there's a gym close by. I can go there.” “And did you tell your trainer that you wouldn’t be home so he shouldn’t drop off any food or expect you?” His eyes widened. “Fuck.” He curses, scrambling out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where his phone is, her laughter ringing in his ears.

Calling Brad, he hears the phone ring three times before his trainer picks up. “Hello,” “Hey Brad, uh I’m not home right now. I mean, I’m not in the uh country.” “Did they call you for some testing?” “Uh no. I’m not there either. Just took a bit of a break, so don’t worry about meals or anything.” There’s a bit of silence before Brad speaks again. “Max, is everything alright?” “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. I just needed a bit of a break. I’ll see you in Milton on the twenty-first, yeah?” “Sure.” “Great.” And Max hangs up the call, feeling a bit like a hurricane.

“You’ve made me go crazy.” He tells her when he sees her standing in the door of the bedroom, raising an arm when she doesn’t move. She immediately moves into his space, wrapping her arms around his waist, as his arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Have I?” “Yes. Meeting you has made me crazy.” “Do you regret it?” “No.” The answer is swift and firm, because no he could never regret it.

So much had changed since he had seen her for the first time just barely two weeks ago. Most of those changes happened in the past forty-eight hours. But he liked those changes.

He liked how he felt ever since she first looked at him, shook his hand, said his name. Liked how she made him smile and laugh. Maybe it was fucked but he liked how in Austrailia when he won and he nearly kissed her at the afterparty, she had to press her hand on his chest and hold him back. Remind him that he had a girlfriend. Had to stop him from pulling out his phone to call her and break up with her right then and there. Liked that despite that, she had taken his unlocked phone, added her number and told him to text her. Pressed her lips to his cheek and let the scent of her bury itself in his brain. He liked that when he first texted her asking when he could see her again, she hadn’t asked who, just told him they could talk when he was single. Liked that barely a day later he had texted her telling her he was and now he was here, with her, in her home.

Max loved however, her. The way she kissed him when he showed up at her doorstep. The then slight shyness she had over her giving him her number and her text, though there was no guilt or apology to be found in her words. Just more disbelief that she had done so. How she smelled, her house smelled. The way she sat, how her fingers brushed over his skin. How passionate she was about her job, about the music she listened to, and the candle that sat beside her bathtub.

And so it comes out. “I love you.”

He shouldn’t be saying it. People would and will call him crazy for it, but he knows himself. He knows what he’s feeling. And he loves her. Loves this woman that he hasn’t even known for a month. And fuck, people like to talk about how love at first sight doesn’t exist and you don’t know when someone is the one immediately or so soon after meeting them, but that isn’t true. There are outliers. He’s got a cousin that married her husband barely a year after dating him and they are happier than any couple he’s ever seen. One of the guys he grew up karting with met his girlfriend and a month later they were moving in together. He thinks they have three kids or maybe it’s four now.

And she, she feels like he was made for her and only her.

“I love you too.” The words aren’t whispered, no shame or doubt on them. Just certainty and he doesn’t know that she’s thinking the same thing. That she was made just for him.

—

She doesn’t come to the next race no matter how much he begs. Even when he’s about to run late for his flight back to the factory, head buried her neck as he pleads with her to come. But she only laughs, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“You just barely made a statement about no longer being with Kelly.” And he kind of hates that there’s no distaste in her voice about him having a girlfriend when they met. He knows that if she had been seeing someone his blood would be boiling everytime his name got brought up or even hinted at. “Give it a bit to settle.” He straightens with a bit of frown, “I won’t hide you.” She laughs, eyes lighting up and it makes him smile. “I’m not asking you too. Just for patience. I don’t want your PR team to end up hating me.” “Miami, then?” She shakes her head, pushing him away. “You have a plane to catch, Max.” “Imola?” He asks, backing up. Eyes widening a bit when she shakes her head again. “Monaco?” “Max!” And she’s laughing again. “Spain?” And this time she nods her head and he groans, picking up his duffel bag that’s been sitting by the door for probably thirty minutes now. “That is so fair away. You will make me wait that long?” “Oh, poor baby. Having to wait just a little over a month.” He pokes his bottom lip out, unashamed to pout. Because yes, not having her with him for the next four races sounded like torture. He had only gotten a taste of what her support was like in Australia. He wanted all of it now.

She must see that on his face because her smile turns fond, no more teasing and she’s capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “It will go by faster than you think, Max. And it gives me enough time to get everything situated so I can really be comfortable working from anywhere in the world.” “So, you’ll join me for the rest of the season?” “Yes.” He grins, pressing their lips together once, then twice. “If it does not go by fast like you say,” She stops him before he can continue. “Go, Max, it will. And I’m always a call away.”

—

The press eagerly awaits Max’s arrival in Baku. Hoping to see the two time world champion, downtrodden, miserable, regretful. Instead they get an even better story. He arrives at the track on the phone laughing, smile wide and body relaxed. It wasn’t the image of a man who had just separated from his girlfriend of a few years. It was the image of a man happier than he ever had been before.

They all want to ask questions, want to ask who he’s talking to, what or who perhaps has him smiling. Why did he and Kelly break up? Did he break up with her? Did she with him? But none of them are willing to risk the odd relationship that Red Bull has with the press, kind even generous until you cross the line.

—

“No more races without you.” He murmurs when she arrives at his hotel in Spain, his breath causing goosebumps to appear on her neck. “No more.” She agrees, before pulling slightly away, just so they can look at each other. “Hi.” She greets. He smiles at her. “Hi.” “Congrats on Monaco.” He huffs, but something warm fills him with her words. “You said that on the phone.” “That was on the phone.” She teases, before lifting her arms to loop them around his neck. “Proud of you, Max.” He doesn’t know how to respond to that, to how sincere her words are, so he presses their lips together.

“I love you.” She breathes when they break apart, panting slightly with shiny and swollen lips. “I love you too.”

—

The camera's shuttering intensifies as soon as Max’s car that he was given for the race weekend arrives at the track on Saturday. And it only gets worse when instead of just locking the car and starting his walk to the red bull garage, he rounds to the other side, opening the passenger door and helping a woman get out.

This woman is not one that any of them recognize. She is not Max’s mother or sister. She is not Kelly or some sort of model, super, instagram, or swimsuit. And even better they don’t recognize this Max. Who as soon as she is out of the car, purse in hands, shuts the door for her, which is fairly typical for him. But what is not is the way he presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss, before snaking an arm around her waist, a sort of love sick smile on his face as they begin the walk.

“I can’t believe you wanted me to come to one of these things earlier.” She murmurs to him, giving a wave to all the cameras. If she was going to do this, be with Max, she’d have to get used to them and quickly. “I still wish you had.” He murmurs back, squeezing her waist and turning his head to press his nose quickly to the top of her head. “Did you tell anyone about me or that I was coming?” She asks, though she already has a feeling what the answer is as they move further into the paddock and sees some of the drivers do double takes. He smirks, “now why would I do that?” She shakes her head, “your PR team is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Her eyes then catch on a slightly familiar man who’s looking at Max with murder in his eyes and she amends her statement. “Daniel is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Max pales slightly as he takes a look at the man she only knows from his stories and a few brief clips she’s seen on youtube.

As soon as they enter Red Bull’s hospitality for the weekend, Daniel pounces. Dragging Max and her since Max refuses to let go of her, to Max’s drivers room.

When the door closes, Daniel shoves Max though she expects more gently than he normally would due to her and stands in front of the door, hands on his hips, anger and disappointment warring on his face.

“Max.” “Daniel.” He replies, though it's a bit meek and she can’t help but give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go and stepping away. Not returning to his side despite the offended and hurt look he gives her. She shakes her head. “I told you that you could tell people.”

Daniel turns to look at her, giving her a quick grin. “I like you.” He declares before turning back to Max, grin gone.

“Seriously Max. First there was Kelly and you breaking up, which I found out through social media and you still haven’t told me how that whole thing went down.” She winces at the exasperation in Daniel’s voice. She knew from Max how close they were, considering themselves brothers just about and she couldn’t imagine how Daniel felt learning about Max’s breakup from social media and not the man himself.

“And now this!” He waves his hands around between her and Max. “I’m sure you're great.” He tells her quickly and she gives him a sheepish smile. “I mean really Max. What gives?” Max stares at the older man, unsure of what exactly to say to him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t think the people he was closest to weren’t going to have a reaction to the news of his breakup and now new relationship. It’s just that besides Daniel none of them had really reached out wanting to know what happened because they were all right with not knowing. They knew that if Max wanted to talk about it with them, he would. But Daniel was different.

He talked to Daniel about everything. A side effect of the older man having to deal with him as a teammate for those few years when he was so young and trying to really figure himself out. They had developed a different kind of relationship. One where he knew that he could go to Daniel with anything and everything and receive no judgment, only support. Daniel to him was a weird cross of a friend, brother, and father.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes and his hands tighten into fists a little. Always unsure of himself when apologizing. “I should have called. Told you, explained what happened.” He hesitates, but knows that Daniel deserves the truth. “I nearly did.” And wasn’t that the truth. There were many times he nearly called or texted Daniel to tell him about the stunning girl he saw, then met, then nearly kissed, then got together with. But he hadn’t. He knew if he told Daniel, he’d end up telling everyone. Daniel stares at him, face giving away nothing, making him fidget, before he sighs and gives Max a smile. “It’s all good mate. You’re a bit of a cunt. But,” he shrugs, grinning. “You’ve always been like that.” Max lets out a laugh, relaxing at the familiar energy of Daniel. “Yeah, just a bit.”

He turns to look at his girlfriend, who's looking between the two of them with a smile, beckoning her back to his side. Enjoying how she easily fits into his side. “Daniel, this is my girlfriend,” and he knows his voice is lovesick when he says her name with the way Daniel looks at him. “Darling, Daniel.” “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Max talks about you a lot.” Daniel’s eyes flicker to Max, expecting some sort of an embarrassment or denial, but the younger man just nods. And that’s good enough for Daniel, who immediately grins at her before pulling her into a hug. “Nice to meet you as well. Max treating you well? I taught him everything he knows.” He tells her with a wink when he releases her. She lets out a small giggle at his words, but nods. “Very well. And thank you for your services.” She winks, making Daniel laugh.

“Oh, you are amazing. Now, tell me how this happened and what happened with Kelly.” He says gesturing between the two of them, sitting on the folding chair in the room, while they sit on the couch. “They are very much connected.” She laughs, before patting Max on the arm and sitting back fully.

“Oh, no.” Max groans, running a hand over his face. Daniel was going to have a fucking laugh. “So, we met a little before the Australian Grand Prix. Nearly had an incident there.” He tilts his head towards her and Daniel nods, understanding what he’s saying. “I actually nearly broke it off there. She managed to stop me however. But when I got home to Monaco, I broke up with Kelly then and there. Was already planning on doing it at the end of the season.” Daniel nods. “You mentioned that before.” “Yeah.” Max sighs, before telling him the rest.

Daniel stares at him for a moment after he's done before shaking his head, with a sort of breathless laugh. “Only you, Max. Only you. I’m happy for you though.” Max smiles at the older man’s easy acceptance. “Thank you.” “PR’s going to kill you for not giving them any warning.” He rolls his eyes, she had been telling him the same thing. “They won’t do anything. Besides, didn't they want me to be more personable?” “Don’t think this is what they meant or had in mind.” She tells him. “Probably hoping you’d vlog. Do what Charles and Lando do.” His nose wrinkles at the idea, making her and Daniel laugh.

—

“You’re good for him.” Daniel murmurs as they watch qualifying. She turns her head a little, still keeping most of her focus on the track. “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects, taking a moment to flash her a smile. “Max and Kelly,” he sighs. “They had a lot of issues.” She says for him. “Wanted different things or the same things but not at the same time.” “Yeah,” the older man breathes, feeling at ease with how much she knows. “She made him happy at first ya know? But you,” he pauses to shake his head. “You make him into the person I think he would’ve been without Jos. Relaxed, at ease, happy.” His voice is a little quieter with the last word and she has to blink so she doesn’t start to cry. “I want him to be happy. And I know we fell into this fast, but Max.” She sighs, feeling a smile stretch across her lips as her heart flutters in her chest all at his name, at the thought of him. “I was made for him.” Daniel chuckles, taking in the infatuated, lovesick, expression on her face. It was the same look he had seen earlier on Max. It was nice to see that it really did go both ways. “There might be some fuss around it, but it’ll die down eventually.” He hesitates not wanting his next words to seem to much, but thinks fuck it. They went to the extremes here, and she’d have to get used to it fast with Max, if she wasn’t already. “I’ll message a few drivers that I know will support you and Max. We’ll have your guys back with the media or anyone else.” His support and approval make her reach out, squeezing his forearm for a few seconds. “Thank you, Daniel. It means the world to me.”

---

Tagging: @lapb @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #my brainrot for max is so bad #i had to finish this one because last night i came up with another idea for him #he has a hold on me

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joanie-writes · 2 years

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Omitting Sins

Arthur x F!Reader

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Word Count: 2k

Chapter 6

I took my time getting ready in the morning, as I had been for the last week. I had nothing but time now since Lilah and Ted took over downstairs, they were doing a great job and now that it had been a while, I felt confident to leave them in charge of things. But of course, that still made me pretty nervous, I hadn't left the confines of this town in a long time now. I knew I needed to get away from this though.

Upon reading the newspaper, I saw an article entailing the details of a huge robbery of the train that was supposed to come through town. I shuttered at the thought of running into highway robbers on my journey, wherever that may take me, but I knew I could talk a dog away from a bone, and clearly, I could shoot a gun if needed too. The weather was beginning to warm up, spring coming to an end. That meant it was the perfect time to get away for a while.

Before that could happen though, I needed a horse, a tent, and supplies. I gathered the money from my jewelry box, counting it out a final time before leaving my room. I locked the door behind me, went downstairs, quickly checked on my new recruits, and then made my way to the general store.

I walked in, the bell above the door chiming as usual but the unusual sound of weeping also could be heard.

"Florence?" I called out, recognizing the cry.

"H-hi Y/N," She came out from her spot by the taller shelves. I was met with this dishevelled version of Florence that I had seen a few times before. Black streaks ran down her cheeks with her tears, and her beautiful blonde hair was styled so simply when usually it looked like she had spent all day on it. She was the envision of heartbreak. I had consoled her with liquor at the bar before, all due to the silly boys she let break her heart time and time again.

"A-A-Arthur left me!" Florence wailed, coming towards me for a hug. I held her, shushing her as I rubbed her back.

"He said that he had business in another town, left without another word!" She spoke, anger present in her tone.

"He's a no-good jerk then, Florence, and he doesn't deserve you." I told her calmly. Miss Myers pulled away after a moment, taking a deep breath and getting her emotions together.

I helped her clean up her appearance some before she asked me if I needed anything, I smiled and informed her of my plans, "Yeah, I'm gonna be taking some time away from town. See where the wind takes me."

"Oh that sounds amazing, Y/N. I'd like to do that one day, but maybe on one of those big ships, go and see paradise." Florence said, which made me chuckle while I filled my bag with some canned food and other things I'd need for surviving on my own. Florence went through my order, slipping in a few extra goodies for me as well. After I paid and collected my things, I gave her another hug.

"You'll find somebody perfect for you one day, Miss Myers." She laughed, kissing both my cheeks with her red-tinted lips, responding with, "I doubt it at this rate. But be well, and I'll see you when you get back. You'll have to tell me everything."

I bid her farewell and picked up all my supplies, which included a canvas tent, food, ammunition for my pistol should I need it, a few new books, and some new clothes. Next, I was off to the stables.

"Morning Miss Y/L/N, you in the market for a horse today?" The stable hand greeted me, knowing me quite well from the bar.

I informed him of my plan like I did Florence, telling him I needed a reliable horse for the road ahead. He walked me through the stable, showing me a few horses that would suit me best. When he showed me a beautiful blanket appaloosa, I knew that was the right horse for me.

The stable hand gave me a deal on account of all the drinks I had served him over the years, I told him to know how grateful I was for that. He stocked me up with treats and horse care after I got the papers for my new companion and paid him.

I patted her neck gently and fed her an oatcake before placing my foot in the stirrup and swinging my other leg onto the saddle. It had been a while since I had last ridden a horse, I expected it to take a minute to get used to again. Daddy had made me learn in case of an emergency.

Spurring her to a slow walk, I smiled and asked her a question, "You seem like a Brandy to me, how does that sound girl?" I figured the horse of a bar owner should be liquor themed. Brandy snorted, which made me chuckle. I could see me and this horse getting along just fine.

I walked us back to the saloon, hitching Brandy up outside the backdoor. I told her I'd be right back before going inside. The bar was decently alive, majority of the tables filled with the lunchtime rush. I said hello to my regulars, stopping in my tracks when I saw one of the men who had come to threaten me. It was thankfully not the one who had slapped me, or I would have really made a scene. But I was not going to let anybody in cahoots with that fool drink in my saloon.

"You can finish up your drink and leave." I approached him at his spot at the counter, Ted nervously glanced at me from behind the bar.

"I'm not causing any trouble." He retorted; his deep voice was scarily calm.

"I don't care, you and the other buffoons in that group of yours are not welcome here, not after the stunt your buddy pulled the other week."

He glared at me, tossing back the rest of his drink while he did. "You'll get what you deserve, girl." The man grumbled as he got up and left.

I crossed my arms, glaring right back at him as he exited the saloon. I sighed, turning around to inform Ted of that group and the headache they had caused me. I told him which attributes to look for in their gang. When Lilah and Ted got the job and I was going over the rundown of the saloon, I let them know I would get them a gun of their own to keep under the bar since I'd be taking mine.

I followed through, a shiny new pistol now sitting in the cupboard in case they needed it.

The plan was to leave tomorrow morning, so after putting all my things inside, I climbed up onto Brandy in order to bring her back to the stables for the night. I didn't wanna leave her hitched to the post outback. I ended up doing a few laps of the town atop of Brandy to get her used to me on her back, but eventually I did go to the stables.

On the walk back to the saloon, I stopped to talk to some people, assuring them I'd be back. It reminded me how much people of this town depend on me, for hot meals, good drinks, a night away from the stresses of their day, sometimes we lose touch with things like that I suppose.

Night began to fall, the lights inside the shops turning off or turning on, the houses aglow now as well. As I got closer to the saloon, it was the only building close by that I could hear loud chatter and laughing and music from. I felt myself smiling, I'd done that a lot today.

I pushed through the front doors, giving Lilah a wave before taking a seat across from Henry at one of the booths.

"Hey kid," Henry greeted me after sipping his drink, setting his mug of beer back on the table with a thud afterwards.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," I fiddled with my hands in my lap, I continued, "I need a break."

"I know you do," He paused for a moment before finishing the sentence, "your father would've pushed you out of this place for something better years ago now." He said.

"I'll be back though." I looked back at him, wondering why he brought that up.

"Nobody knows the future, except this man I met in Nevada once," Henry shook his head, digressing, "my point is, you might find something worth leaving this place for."

"I couldn't leave the saloon, Daddy worked so hard for it, Henry." He sighed, sitting up against the seat more.

"He always said to me that he started up this saloon so you could have better than he did."

Daddy had been very close with Mr. Bard, he'd been a part of my life for a long time, and Daddy's. When we laid him to rest, Henry was the one to hold me close as I cried. Before his wife, Claire passed, Henry and her kept me fed when I couldn't bring myself to cook for a while.

I never knew my mother, I suppose my father didn't know her much either. When I was a bit older, he told me that she had split a few days after I was born, too afraid to be a mother he'd guessed. Though it never bothered me, not having a mother. I had the best father I could have asked for.

Tears gathered in my eyes at Henry's sentence, I looked up towards the ceiling to blink them away.

"Go out there and do something good for yourself for the first time, Y/N."

I nodded, wrapping up the conversation with some laughs and old stories. I went to bed that night tired as ever, but so ready to be on the open land, and at peace.

When I awoke early the next morning, the sun was just beginning to show above the horizon, a cool breeze blew through the town, and morning dew gathered on the grass. I knew it was going to be a great day. I threw off my quilt and got up, and prepared myself for the day. After a bath, I dressed in pants for a change, a button-up overshirt, and a warm scout jacket. I grinned at this unfamiliarly dressed version of myself in the mirror, I'd never worn pants much.

I buckled up the gun belt that I had gotten from one of my customers as an apology gift, for getting too drunk and breaking one of my chairs. It fit perfectly, and my freshly polished pistol and knife looked great in it. I had to admit, I looked a lot more threatening like this than I did in a dress.

Once I tied my father's old bandana around my neck and put on his favourite hat. Now I truly looked the part, a proper gunslinger type. I laughed at myself, shaking my head and packing the last of my things.

"Oh my, Miss Y/N, you look great!" Lilah grinned at me from the bar where she was preparing for the day.

"Thanks, Lilah," I smiled, darting into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, I sat down at the bar and told her, "I'm kind of nervous."

"Don't be nervous, you'll do great. All of us here know you can handle your own, now you'll get to show some new people that too." I chuckled, talking to Lilah as I ate, but making my meal quick so I could get going sooner.

I stood in front of the photo of Daddy on the wall. I smiled up at it, whispering, "I'm going to see some of the world, I'll be back." With a final, 'good luck', to and from Ted and Lilah, I was on my way to the stables to get Brandy.

I loaded most of my things onto her saddle, giving her chestnut-coloured coat plenty of pats while I did. The stable hand waved me goodbye while I pushed Brandy to a trot, looking ahead to wherever I wished to go from there.

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jbbuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Scared & Sacred - Ch. 2

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: pregnancy, angst, lots of emotions, canon typical violence, fighting

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 2 - The Letter

Every night you prepared some more food in little portions to keep you alive on the journey you would start soon. You had three pairs of every clothing in a compartment that you would put into a bag, bought another bag on the last planet to put the food, water and a blanket in. Even got a cheap med pack on the last planet. On the next planet you‘d leave. You‘d find someone to bring you back to that harmonic place where the nurse droid told you that you were expecting.

„Cyare?“ You closed the compartment as you heard him come closer. „Hm?“ You looked up at him in front of you, holding a fuzzing Grogu. „Something‘s upsetting him.“ Arms reached up and grabbed Grogu out of Din‘s gentle grasp. „Hey, sweetpea, you‘re safe here. We won‘t let anything happen to you, yeah?“ You tried to calm him a bit. It worked a tiny bit, but he wiggled free again to sit on your lap and nuzzle into your belly. „Better?“ You chuckled and got a coo of agreement, making you chuckle. Eyes wandered up to the Mandalorian again, „It‘s okay, he can sleep here.“ It would be a nice last night having Grogu sleeping right on top of you, showing love to his sibling. You started to notice that region of your body growing harder to the touch. „Do you mind if we share?“ Din‘s modulated voice reached your ears. „I‘d prefer sleeping alone, if I‘m being honest.“ You answered softly, shutting him out of your heart and bed. „Did I do anything to upset you? You‘ve been very distant since we left Arcaro.“ That was the harmonic planet, you saved the name internally. „I miss your touch.“ „Oh, no no. Just having a lot on my mind at the moment. Going through memories of my childhood and all.“ That was only half a lie, so you didn‘t feel very bad. „If you need to talk, you know I‘m there.“ You nodded softly, starting to hear Grogu snore. „Get some sleep, Din. You have people to hunt tomorrow.“ You smiled and saw him nod before heading off to his cot.

You couldn‘t sleep with the journey ahead on your mind, so you grabbed a piece of flimsy and started writing a letter to Din that you would leave behind, attaching your soup recipe that the kid liked the most. You put it in an envelope and put it between your pillow and the mattress. Shortly after the exhaustion of the day got you to fall asleep for a few hours.

Din and Grogu were hunting for a Corellian woman while you got the last important pieces for your journey and the ship. You filled up the food supply, bought another melee weapon and you found a very used vest that would hold off blaster shots that you put on under your gown. Once all of that was done you checked through your backpack and side bag and put them on your body. A deep breath went through you as you looked around one last time. This was a great home and protection for a while, but it was time for another chapter in your life. You‘d miss Grogu a lot, as well as the beskar armored man with the patience of a Jedi.

You headed down the main street of the city to find a ship you could fly with all the way back towards the planet of Arcaro. You ended up meeting a woman that used to be a fighter for the Republic. Hated the Empire and thought bounty hunters are annoying. Seemed safe enough. As you took off she asked, „What‘s your business here?“ „Leaving behind the people that helped me run from the people that hunted my family because I‘m with child and they weren‘t ready to accept that kinda life.“ You kept it short but clear. „Damn, that sounds like a lifestory if I ever heard one. Who knocked you up?“ She was direct. Reminded you of Cara. „The man that protected me for the last months. Very kind, kind of emotionally incompetent, definitely wouldn‘t take the news well.“ „I see.“ She nodded before jumping into hyperspace. She knew you had the credits to pay her, everything else was just listening to your interesting story and getting a good tip for a market.

— POV CHANGE —

Din stepped into his ship with Grogu. It was dead silent, not completely unusual. What was unusual was the fact you didn‘t react when he called out „Cyare?“ The child in his arms cooed in confusion and looked up at him with a frown. „She might still be caught up on the market. We‘ll wait.“ But even that plan fell away once he had fully arrived home and opened the compartment that you had fully stocked before leaving. „Oh, I‘m having a bad feeling about this,“ he whispered to himself as he closed the compartment and put the scanner on his helmet on. Only your footsteps, no others in sight. That didn‘t make sense. She never really went on walks, when she did she always was back in time to welcome him. He followed the steps and arrived in another hangar. „Hey, you there!“ He pointed at the slightly intimidated man near the hangar. „Y-Yes?“ „Have you seen a human woman in white and blue gowns, a green bag and braided hair? This big, cloak is blue too, with white details on it.“ „She went through here, yes.“ „Did she seem afraid?“ „No, she was acting normal. Talked to a woman that frequently takes travellers with her to other places. Seemed to be ready for a trip.“ „Dank ferrik! Thank you.“ NOW he was a different type of concerned. Why did you leave? Willingly! He scanned over the holopad the man held, taking in the information on it that he hoped was about the ship you were in.

When he got back he noticed one of his weapons missing in his arsenal, your blue blindfold on the co-pilot seat and everything neatly cleaned and organized in the kitchen. This was starting to kill him from the inside out. What had happened? What would make you get up and leave on purpose? From the man you loved and the child you cared for so much? He checked your bed. It wasn‘t made. The only thing in here that wasn‘t neat and tidy. And there he saw it, something sticking out from under your pillow. His mind went back to the time he found a little booklet there. A booklet about human children, medical stuff. He took off his gloves and grabbed the flimsy, opening the envelope he held in his hands shortly after and noticed it was a letter addressed at him.

*Dear Din, I know this might be confusing. That I‘m gone now, that I went without telling you. I know it‘s dangerous out there and that you are a big reason I‘m still breathing, but I couldn‘t bear the idea of making a decision benefiting you and leaving me lost. When you told me you weren‘t ready for a child, I knew I had to leave. I won‘t decide against it and I didn‘t wanna hear from your voice that I shouldn‘t keep it. I‘ll miss you. I‘ll miss Grogu. He‘ll miss his unborn sibling too. I know how excited he was for it. I‘m content with knowing that the child was created out of love. Two months and about a week ago. I hope that gives you rest about the situation. I‘ll go back to Arcaro. The place with the beautiful market and one of the best nurse droids I‘ve ever met. I‘ll figure out where to go and how to be on my own from there. I hope you don‘t mind that I took one of the weapons you barely used in the last months. Have this recipe for Grogu in return, he loves it the most and sleeps the best after eating it. Love, Y/N*

Din was drowning in an ocean of feelings. He wanted to cry, scream, beg, jump in happiness and yearned to have you in his arms. Oh, how much he wanted to have you in his arms right now. How much he wished you would‘ve told him that day. He would‘ve pushed away all your doubts. He would‘ve worshipped you, your body, the wonders happening inside of you. Instead you were running from him like he was some disgusting monster.

He sat down in the pilots seat with Grogu on his arm and the letter in the other hand, setting it down gently and punching in the coordinates to the planet you mentioned. You‘d arrive there after him if he did this trick right.

— POV CHANGE —

You gave the Republic lady a big tip and a hug. „It‘s rare to meet someone to talk to like this. Thank you for the ride and the long talk.“ You smiled at her and she grabbed both of your arms gently. „I land here every now and then, so if you ever see this piece of metal land, say hello.“ She grinned and let you go.

You stepped down the ramp of her vessel to see the market you loved so much fairly empty. It was really early in the morning on this planet. You got closer to the market and saw how some vendors currently refilled their little shops. „Where do you think you‘re going?“ A dark voice was audible behind you. It was familiar. „Kuuvi?“ You turned around to the man that has been hunting you for a year now. He used to be a good friend. „Yes, it‘s me.“ You turned around to him with a smile. „How have you been?“ You asked as if he didn‘t have the capacity to kill you right there. „Eating good, having a nice ship, good people around. How about you?“ He shrugged. „Except for the nice ship I can only say the same.“ „Where is your tin can?“ „Oh, he‘s just getting some supplies. Looking for a better ship at the moment. Razor Crest is great and all, but it gets crammed in there.“ You chuckled. Being royalty made you a master of lies sometimes „Twi‘ku still wants you on his doorstep.“ He gave a dirty grin. „You still work for that half-rotten idiot with bad rates? Moff Gideon would pay you so much more, I mean he‘s the source.“ „Either would pay me enough to retire if I deliver you.“ „Well, would be against the code of any guild.“ „Huh?“ „Pregnant women aren‘t allowed to be hunted.“ With a sweet grin you watched him realize the information you had just dropped and frown, enough distracted time to run one of your knives through his throat. He grabbed after you, getting out his vibroblade, but you had a gun trained on him in return, stepping on his lung and taking out the knife. „Traitor!“ You pulled the trigger and burned a hole through his heart. Two more men were running at you, one got a blastershot to the throat and the other got your new staff punched over the head.

You looked up to see people around the market hiding behind stuff, before hearing a saber lighting up behind you. „It‘s nice to see you alone for once.“ Moff Gideon. You were dead. You were so damn dead. „What do you want from me?“ you growled and heard him chuckle. „Not much, you just took something from me that you can‘t give back.“ „My brother killing your daughter isn‘t something that involves me!“ „No, but I overheard you are with child, so we might as well call it even.“ He charged at you with his dark saber, but just before it could hit you there was something big landing between you both.

„Nobody hurts my child.“ You heard his possessive and protective voice. „Oh, how sweet.“ He attacked Din ruthlessly, making you both step back further and further. Troopers came at you from left and right and you took out the second weapon you stole from Din, shooting left and right while leaned against his back. Behind you the saber strained against Din‘s arm guards. „Give up. You won‘t win this.“ Gideon hissed at him. You heard more jetpacks land behind you. Three blue Mandalorians landed in Din‘s sight behind Moff Gideon. „You have something that‘s mine and you better give it to me.“ You heard a familiar female voice. „Bo-Katan Kryze.“ His voice was somewhere between a chuckle and an unsure shakiness. There were no living stormtroopers anymore in just seconds and the four Mandalorians closed in on Moff. His saber not working on their armor. „Any last words?“ Bo-Katan asked with a serious voice. „They‘ll never stop coming for you. For your children, your family, your friends, your religion. They will always watch.“ Din put a blaster shot through his head from a low angle, „Psycho.“

He turned around to envelope you into the safety of his arms, „Cyar‘ika!“ You were shaking and gripping onto his cape, „I‘m okay. We‘re okay.“ „You can‘t just run off like that.“ He sounded wound up, probably thinking about what would‘ve happened if he hadn‘t arrived in time. „I thought-“ „Your thoughts aren‘t the reality. You really thought I‘d tell you to get rid of your unborn child. I told you children are seen as sacred in Mandalorian culture.“ You looked behind him and got a nod from a helmetless Bo-Katan, „We‘ll get this done, go talk.“ Din tightly put his arms around you and you shot up into the sky before landing on top of a building. His hands, freed from gloves, wandered over your cheeks. „I wish you would‘ve told me. I wish so much that I could‘ve been able to tell you to stop worrying and I wish you would‘ve been able to see me jump in joy at the news. I know we don‘t talk a lot, but this was the time you should‘ve talked. If I had said something negative you still could‘ve left.“ Your lip started trembling, he was right. You were so dumb for doing this. „Hey, no no, I understand why you did it, cyare.“ His helmet touched your forehead. His hands wandered down your sides, „Can I?“ You nodded and felt his hand wander over the hardened skin on your lower belly. He went on his knees before you, hands on your hips before they wandered to his helmet. „Din, no.“ You whispered and heard the hiss. „I thought about this for a long time. There is not one way, there are multiple ways that all have the same core. Look at Bo-Katan, Boba, all these people we met. I grew up in a version of this religion that doesn’t work for me anymore, I don‘t want that to be our child's life too. I want to live it our way.“ And with that the helmet came off. „They are gone, no one can hurt you two and Grogu anymore.“ „But the Empire.“ „We‘ll deal with it.“ The helmet went down and you could finally see his face. Soft face, with harsh features, smiling, „Besides. You looked pretty hot fighting off those idiots.“ „Wait till I break your hand while delivering the child.“ You chuckled with tears streaming down your face. He was so beautiful, so gentle. His nose pressed against your belly, his grip on your hips tightening just enough for you to feel even safer. „Where‘s Grogu?“ „On the ship, probably eating all the supplies.“ You both chuckled and enjoyed the moment for a while longer. „I can‘t wait to meet you, ad‘ika,“ he whispered to your unborn baby. There was so much love in his eyes that you started crying again. „Oh, cyare.“ He took your face in his hands with a caring frown on his face. „Don‘t mind me, just hormones.“ You chuckled to lighten up the situation. „My riduur.“ His bare forehead met yours. „Huh?“ „It- It means partner.“ He said it with such an innocent unsureness that you had to whisper a small, „Oh, baby.“ „I‘ll open up to you more, yeah? We‘ll find a good planet to stay.“ „I like this one so much.“ „I know, cyar‘ika. But maybe we should go to Sorgan for a while before coming back here. Grogu will have children to play with and you will be able to relax.“ His thumbs still caressed your cheeks. „Okay, my knight in shining armor.“ You smiled and kissed his nose, before taking his helmet and putting it back on his head.

You flew back to where you had fought, finding Bo-Katan with the dark saber. „I can rule over Mandalore again and you both are more than welcome there once it‘s done.“ She sent you both a smile. „We might take you up on that.“ You smiled back at her. „We‘ll clean this up and make sure nobody else is hunting for your children. We owe you for finally having this in our hands.“ She held up the saber. „Thank you,“ Din said sincerely and nodded before you said your goodbyes and went back to the ship.

You found Grogu arms deep in a jar of nectar. „Oh Grogu.“ You giggled and he turned around with his signature coo, ears falling at being caught. „It‘s alright, but don‘t do it again. You wanna see your dada‘s face?“ You asked picking him up, cleaning him with something from one of your bags. His eyes got wider and his ears perked. You let down both your bags and the cloak before turning around to Din. „Ready?“ You smiled and he nodded before taking off his helmet. The child gasped and reached for his face, so you held him up to it. He babbled while touching all over his face, Din chuckling and intently listening. Had he always looked like that beneath the helmet when talking to Grogu? „Dada.“ His and your eyes widened at that. You turned Grogu around to look at you and praised him, „Good boy, you love your dada so much, don‘t you?“ A tiny giggle came from his body before he wiggled again. „You wanna say hello to your sibling?“ Another squeak. You sat down on the floor, so did Din while also losing some parts of his armor. He watched as the child put his hands on your belly and closed his eyes, you felt the gentle tingle again. His tiny green nose nuzzled into your skin right where he felt his sibling through the force. „You‘ll see it in a couple months.“ You smiled down at Grogu and gently touched his ears. He could sense that good things happened. That you both weren‘t as worried as you usually were. „Let‘s go to Sorgan and meet the children you like playing with, yeah?“ Another happy squeak came from the green child. „Ner aliit.“ Din murmured softly. You understood without asking. You were his family now and he was yours.

___

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smarchit · 3 years

Text

How Lucky We Are pt 1

Summary: A continuation of Look Around, Look Around. Mando and Reader continue their adventures with their young children.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Sorry about the Hamilton titles but it was all I had at the time. As for official warnings, there are none, but if you see anything that should be tagged, please let me know! I’m happy to tag anything!

"Is Trin ready to go?" Mando asked, looking up at you from the end of the ramp leading from the Crest.

You nodded and shielded your eyes from the sun as you walked out to join him. Trin was strapped to your chest in her swaddle, her little fist curled in the fabric of your shirt, drooling happily against your breast.

"Yeah, she's ready," you replied. "What about the Child?"

Mando gestured with a single nod towards your feet.

The little child was cooing and blinking up at you happily. He lifted his tiny arms towards you and babbled, demanding he be picked up.

You laughed and shook your head.

"Okay, okay, but only because you're so cute. I can't always carry you both."

You bent down to pick him up and pulled a thick hood over his head to shield both from the sun and prying eyes. Thankfully, he and Trin were roughly the same size still, so passing them off as sleeping twins could potentially be easy.

Din held out a hand to help you off the ramp and onto the sandy terra of Nevarro. The port was already bustling with life, even so early in the day.

You'd only been back with Mando for a few days now since leaving Sorgan, and you had a meeting with Greef to pick up a few pucks for work.

"Think he'll be thrilled with you toting around a seven-month old baby?" you teased.

Mando shrugged and put a hand on your back as he shut the ramp and guided you to the main streets.

"He didn't say anything about me dragging you all over Maker's creation when you were two weeks out from giving birth. Figured if there was ever a time to say anything, that would have been it."

"Probably right," he hummed as he pulled you closer to his side.

Two Stormtroopers stood at the entrance to the main square, their guns raised in alarm at the sight of the Mandalorian.

"Identification?" one demanded.

"If I give you ID, you'll need to pull it out of your partner's helmet," Mando grumbled under his breath.

"Didn't catch that, tin can," the other snapped. He adjusted his gun on his hip and raised it towards you slightly.

Mando bristled.

You raised your hand to his chest to stop him from saying something that would have gotten you all vaporized on sight.

"Excuse me," you said sweetly, standing in front of Mando. "This is my... Escort. My father hired him to bring me home. You see, my husband was killed a few months ago and it's been such an effort to get me home. My planet was overrun with Rebels --- I had no time to grab my papers, or the baby's. They'd have killed us!"

The two troopers glanced at each other and then back at you, and then at the two babies.

"Twins?" one asked, jerking his chin in your direction. He shouldered his weapon as he began to move towards you.

"Yes," you said softly, angling your body away from him slightly, "One boy and one girl. I'm very lucky to still have them."

You stepped back as he reached for the swaddle containing the foundling.

Mando cleared his throat and held up a hand to stop the trooper.

"If you would move it along, I need to get them home," he said sharply, his voice low and heavy with a warning.

"Better not cause any trouble," the other one barked as you passed through the gate.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Mando replied, keeping a hand on the small of your back as you walked away from them.

Once they were out of sight, you relaxed and pulled the Child's hood away.

"Such a good boy you are!" you cooed, pressing a kiss to his tiny green nose. "Staying so quiet!"

"C'mon, Greef is waiting," Mando urged, guiding you to a Cantina. "Keep his head covered until we get inside. And even then, keep an eye out."

You nodded and adjusted his hood as you stepped into the cantina.

Conversation within immediately halted when they saw Mando. There were a few slurs that got thrown (directed at you both) and more than a dozen insults tossed Mando's way as you made your way to Greef's table.

Mando ushered you into the booth before he sat beside you.

The child went between the two of you and Trin stayed nestled against your chest.

Greef had a wide smile that rivaled the Tatooine suns when he looked at you both.

"My, my. It's good to have you back!" he said, bowing his head in your direction. "Mando, you seem thrilled to have your partner back with you. And with an adorable new addition!"

You smiled down at Trin, whose large, curious eyes were taking in everything around her. You gently removed her from the swaddle and passed her over to Greef, who took her in his arms and sat her little bottom on the table top to get a good look at her.

"She really is adorable, takes after you I assume?" Greef turned from you and cooed at her, wagging his fingers.

Trin babbled and trilled and reached for his hands.

"She's got some teeth," Mando warned gently. "She likes to bite."

"Oh, you can't bite my best bounty hunter! That's not good!" Greef laughed, wagging a finger at Trin, who drooled and giggled.

"I'd like some work," Mando said after a minute.

Greef looked up from the squealing baby and nodded. He waved for the attention of the droid at the bar to bring you a drink and then passed Trin over the table top into Mando's arms.

Mando pulled her into his lap in an action so natural looking, it surprised you. It didn't even seem like he had realized he'd done it.

You watched Greef reach into his bag and pull out a half dozen or so bounty pucks. He laid the out in a neat line on the chipped tabletop.

"Pick of the lot, Mando. Take a couple - I know you have an extra mouth to feed now, so you'll always get first - and best, as always."

Mando picked one closest to him and a thin blue hologram shot up.

A scowling human woman with close-shaved dark hair and a tattoo on her cheek glared out from the image at you.

"Trax Stand," Greef said, clicking his tongue. "Coruscant spice smuggler. Could have been one of us if she played her cards right."

"The Hutts?"

Greef put his hands on the table, palms up to face you, baring his secrets to the world.

"Surely you don't mind," he said with a smile.

Mando sighed. "I'd prefer not to."

"Oh, Mando, they always pay up, don't they? It's a handsome bounty regardless!"

"And they always try to get something else for free out of it," he grumbled.

"Have you taken a bounty for them since Jabba's death?"

"Once. A few years ago."

"Surely things have changed," he said. "Take the job. If you have any issue with payment or negotiations, come find me. I'll have a chat with them."

"...Fine. What else do you have?"

Greef smiled and slid him another puck.

A Mon Calamari.

"What this one do to piss off the Imps?" Mando scoffed.

"Lead them into a rebel sabatoge."

"Not taking it. Next one."

"Ah, yes, you're right. Good call, Mando!" Greef chuckled a bit and looked at another one before passing it over.

"Torguta. Siobhan Phanato. Went rogue from her own section of the guild after taking payment up front and not returning."

"It's not too far from here. Should be an easy trip for us," Mando hummed. "Get your feet wet again?"

You nodded. "Sounds easy enough."

"We'll take these two," Mando said, laying his palm on the pucks he'd chosen.

Greef raised a brow and laughed. "We? You have hunting partner now, Mando?"

Mando grabbed your wrist and helped you out of the booth. He handed you Trin and helped you put her back into the swaddle as Greef continued to laugh.

Before Mando could usher you out of the cantina, Greef cleared his throat and caught Mando's attention.

You turned to try and listen to their conversation over the din of the bar.

"She wants to see you, by the way," he said softly. "Says she has something for you."

Mando straightened up and nodded once.

"Same place?"

"Entrance is more hidden, but you'll know where it is."

"What was that about?" you asked as soon as the door shut behind you, leaving you bared to the warm sun. The child cooed and blinked up at the sky before you fixed his hood.

"I have to make a stop somewhere. Can you take these credits and buy rations and whatever we need to stock the ship?"

You looked at him.

As if he read your mind, he put a hand on your shoulder. "I won't be gone longer than fifteen minutes, alright? Get some food for you three and stock up. Meet me right here when you're done."

"What if those troopers come back?"

"You'll be fine," he soothed, putting a gloved hand on your cheek.

Mando slid his hand down to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze before he slipped through the crowd and disappeared.

You watched him go for a moment before you turned to the market stalls. You thought it best to switch the places of Trin and the child so the latter wouldn't be spotted by spies. It only took a second before the child was nestled happily against your chest and Trin rested on your hip.

She's already getting to be a little armful, you noted as you set about buying rations and other much needed items for the Crest. You loaded them onto a hover cart and sent it towards the docking yard with a small droid leading it.

You bought Trin and the Child a treat - two tiny balls of soft frozen cream, sweetened with citrus. It was fun to watch their faces screw up as they devoured the new sensation.

"Is that good, sweet babies?" you asked as you wiped their mouths. "Did you like that?"

"You give them ice balls?" Mando asked as he walked up to you.

You smiled and nodded. "They seemed to enjoy it. Did you get what you needed?"

Mando nodded. "Yeah. Let's get going."

So he wasn't going to elaborate? That's fine. Mando still had his secrets, even after over a year of travelling.

You had your secrets too, ones you found even too embarassing to think about that occasionally involved thoughts on your shipmate.

"The food is back at the ship. I told the droid not to pack, just to leave it."

Mando hummed at the mention of the droid, but then nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

You smiled and adjusted Trin in your arms as she squirmed around.

"Oh, I should get her some new clothes next time we stop. She barely fits into the ones I got from Omera anymore as it is."

"Shame she won't stay so small forever," Mando chuckled. "You'll be running after her in no time."

"The two of them will cause chaos," you teased, bopping Trin on her tiny nose.

"Just don't get on any bounty lists," he said as he lead you back to where he parked the ship.

"My kid is already better than yours in that aspect then," you hummed.

"That's because she can't walk yet," he pointed out.

"Give it a few months."

"She really might be able to take down an Imp with those teeth alone," he noted.

"It was one time, Mando. One time she bit you. And it was your fault."

Mando was silent as he opened the ramp on the ship. He gestured for you to go up first, making some comment that he had to pack up the supplies you bought.

You took the Child and Trin up the ramp into the hull of the Crest. It was a warm day on Nevarro, as always. The breeze kept air circulating in the ship as Mando packed up the supplies.

Trin wiggled in your arms and shrieked loudly in protest when you didn't set her down.

"Nap time, little moon," you cooed, kissing her forehead. "For both of you."

You took both babies to their pods and set them down in the soft bedding. The Child blinked sleepily up at you and curled a fist into his blanket.

Trin fussed and cried for a bit, kicking her chubby legs.

"None of that, me'suum'ika," Mando murmured from behind you. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and leaned over you to look at the baby.

"You're so good with her," you said softly, looking up at him. "Lots of experience trying to calm down rowdy bounties, hmm?"

Din huffed a laugh through the modulator and shook his head.

"The womp rat keeps me on my toes, so I talk to him and keep him entertained for as long as I can."

"Seems to work on Trin too," you said with a smile. Indeed, the baby had stopped fussing and was cooing softly and blinking her large, sleepy eyes up at the two of you.

"Whatever works," he said with a shrug.

You watched Trin until she was sound asleep before turning back to Mando.

"How soon until we reach Coruscant?"

"Couple cycles," he said, doing a quick calculation in his head. "Maybe three or four?"

You nodded and sighed. "Sounds good. I can do a couple days."

Mando watched as you set about tidying up the ship as best you could. He wouldn't admit it (not for a long time) that he found your presence... Comforting. You had brought something to the ship when he took you aboard on Tatooine. A shift in the energy of the ship. It seemed like an eternity since then.

You changed too, he noted. No longer did you jump at loud noises, or woke up in a panic. You were more assertive in your actions, evident earlier today in the market with the two Stormtroopers.

As you cleaned, Mando realized he was still standing awkwardly over the pods where the child and Trin lay sleeping.

Trin looked so much like you, Mando noted. Your eyes, wild and full of curiosity. Your hair, same color, even the same way it stuck up.

"Gonna grow a root if you keep standing there," you teased, poking your head out of the cockpit. "Let's go get that bounty."

Mando cast one last look at the sleeping babies before he shut the pods and went up join you.

****

TAGLIST (please let me know if you want added or removed):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @poeticparker @blackbird337 @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell @qhbr2013 @bookszazzy @marvelbros-oneshots @cuteboyking @boomtownboy @connor-challoner @fandom-lover-4 @itsmysticalmystery @love-struck-aries @lifeisapitch15 @cosmicwhisper @hybrid-huntress @whatismylife00 @remmyswritings @yodaboo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mcrmarvelloki @lcandothisallday @ry0t

#My writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #look around fic #no use of y/n

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Could you please write #43 grandparents/neighbors one?

43. we’re having our family meal at my grandparents’ house this year so fingers crossed your parents still live next door and you grew up to be even hotter

from winter writing prompts here

oh god this one got so long. sorry everyone! thank you to @k-sci-janitor for the alien bit because it was so fucking funny

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Holidays have gotten a little weird to manage since Newt transformed into a fully-fledged adult with an apartment and a job and stuff, so while he hasn’t made it to the big Geiszler celebration in Germany every December since starting college out of elementary school, he still tries to make a point of dropping by his dad’s for dinner and a movie or something to fill his holiday quota. It’s fine by him; he loves his family, but they’re definitely overwhelming, and trying to submit final grades and work on syllabuses for the next semester all while distant relatives ruffle his hair and ask him when he’s going to hit his growth spurt is not his idea of a relaxing time. It’s a constant point of contention between him and his dad. This year more than most, apparently.

“Your grandmother misses you!” he tells Newt sadly over their Chinese takeout. “She calls me every week to ask how you are, and why you never visit with them. Every week.” He waves a fork at Newt. “You’re breaking her heart.”

“I’m in the lab, like, twenty-four-seven, dad,” Newt sighs. It’s a well-rehearsed conversation at this point, but it doesn’t get any less tiresome. Especially because he knows his dad is lying about the phone call thing—Newt is a great grandson and texts his grandmother plenty, thank you very much, he would know if he was breaking her heart. “I’m working straight through winter break this year. Seriously.”

“That’s what you did last year,” Newt’s dad says. “And the year before that…” Newt turns the volume up on the TV to cut his dad off before he can segue into the next part of his argument, which is (usually) that Newt needs to work on his personal life, maybe settle down, produce some grandkids of his own. Or at least adopt a cat. Also well-rehearsed.

He’s not sure why he says what he does next—maybe in a desperate attempt to distract his dad further. Maybe because of the sudden onslaught of childhood memories the mention of his grandparents’ house brought on. “Hey, do you remember that boy who used to live next door to grandma?” he says. “He had the weird haircut and always dressed kind of funny?” Old-fashioned, and a little too formal for the sort of things that little kids tend to do, climbing trees or playing in the mud—sweatervests and polished loafers and starched-white knee-highs.

Newt’s dad blinks at him. Newt half expects him to declare that Newt is nuts, and that he has no idea what he’s talking about, like this is one of those horror stories where the childhood friend turns out to be some ghost who died fifty years prior. The clothing would match up, he guesses. But he smiles in recognition a moment later. “You mean the Gottlieb boy?” he says.

“Gottlieb,” Newt echoes. It sounds familiar enough. “Hermann, I think. When I’d stay with grandma for the summer we would play together every day. I wonder what he’s doing now.” Hermann was a smart guy, a real geek like Newt; he used to carry a graphing calculator around in his pocket and build the most goddamn pristine model spacecrafts Newt had ever seen. Hermann’s dad shipped him off to a prestigious boarding school the last summer Newt spent there, when they were around twelve or so. Newt started at MIT not long after. “Dude’s probably designing rocket ships by now or something.”

“You could ask him yourself if you came with me,” Newt’s dad laughs. “The Gottliebs never moved away, and their children actually visit. I’m sure your Hermann visits, too.”

“Ha,” Newt says. “Yeah.”

It’s snowing by the time Newt and his dad finish their movie, and Newt (fearing his dad’s driving even in ideal conditions) declines the offer of a lift home to trudge his way through it to his T stop instead. It’s nice to have the chance to be alone with his thoughts, anyway, because he can’t seem to get funny little Hermann Gottlieb out of his head. What is he doing now?

A quick Facebook search on the train produces a few Hermann Gottliebs, but none of them promising—none of them have the brown eyes or strangely angular face (devoid of any baby fat even that young) Newt remembers, none of them are from the right German countryside, none of them went to a preppy English boarding school. Google (utilizing the information Newt does have) is a little more rewarding, and by the time Newt presses the button to request his stop, he’s scrounged up a decent amount of info: Hermann Gottlieb has a doctorate in astrophysics, Hermann Gottlieb publishes papers at a slightly terrifying rate, and Hermann Gottlieb turned out kinda hot.

As Newt stares down at a slightly grainy current photograph of his old friend—haircut and clothing unchanged, a cane in hand, some round librarian glasses perched on the end of his nose, wide mouth twisted into a scowl—he suddenly recalls another thing about Hermann Gottlieb: the summer Hermann was sent away to boarding school was the summer that Hermann kissed Newt goodbye, shyly and tearfully, under the shade of the tall maple tree in his yard. It was the last time Newt ever saw Hermann. It was Newt’s first kiss.

“Oh, boy,” Newt says.

He texts his dad when he gets back to his apartment. When do we leave?

Newt feels like the belle of the fucking ball when he steps into his grandparents’ house a week later, snow dusting his shoulders, small suitcase clenched in his hand. His cheeks are kissed; his scarf and hat and leather jacket are brushed off and tossed onto a coat rack; his hair is in parts smoothed down (too messy!) and ruffled (too flat!); he’s hugged more times than he has been in the entire last year, probably. “Still playing around with bugs in the dirt, eh, Newt?” his grandfather booms, tucking Newt into the crook of his arm with enough force to knock Newt’s glasses off.

“Actually,” Newt squeaks, scrambling for both what he remembers of his very rusty German, and his glasses before they can hit the ground, “entomology isn’t really my main focus at—”

“Newt’s studying jellyfish now,” Newt’s dad declares proudly. “He went on a diving expedition this July.”

“Diving? How exciting,” Newt’s grandmother says.

“Yeah,” Newt says. He pushes his glasses back on. “Yeah, it was fascinating, I was lucky to get the funding for it. You wouldn’t believe the sorts of—”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Newt’s cousin says.

“My little Newt’s a daredevil!” Newt’s dad says.

“It’s not that dangerous,” Newt says. “As long as you’re—”

“What happened to that nice man your father said you were dating?” Newt’s grandfather says. “With the, the what was it, the poetry? The poet? We thought you’d bring him!”

Newt flushes. Trust his dad to talk up some random guy Newt dated in March like it was a long-term affair and not an elongated one-night stand that fizzled out after three weeks. Though maybe that one’s on Newt—it’s not like he mentioned the one-night stand part to his dad, after all. He definitely didn’t mention that the guy ended it with a poem, too. “We broke up,” he says, weakly. He wriggles out from the throng of the crowd. “Look, it’s so great seeing you all, but I’m actually, like, really tired, soooooo…?”

“Oh, of course you are,” Newt’s grandmother says. She pats his head. “What a long flight you must have had! We’ll send someone up for you for dinner—you can have your old guest room.”

“Cool,” Newt says.

He scurries up the stairs.

The guest room he slept in during those summers is almost exactly the way he remembers it, but a little dustier—the floral quilt on the bed, his grandma’s sewing table crammed into the corner, the bookcase stocked with a weird combination of kid’s books and illustrated encyclopedias that Newt used to pore over for hours as a kid, often with Hermann. Newt draws back the embroidered curtains and peers out the window at the Gottliebs’ snow-capped house next door. Hermann’s window was directly across from his. It still is, technically, though the curtains (these navy blue and embroidered with little constellations) are pulled tight, and Newt has a feeling that Hermann hasn’t set foot in his old room in well over a decade. Two decades, probably.

He remembers the one summer he showed Hermann how to make a soup can telephone, and they managed to string it all the way across between their windows before discovering it kinda didn’t work as well as Newt said it would. He remembers when Hermann’s dad banned him from the Gottlieb house for tracking water all over their front hallway after he and Hermann went wading in the creek, but it was really Hermann who did it, because he forgot to take his shoes off and they got soaked, and Newt just took the fall for it so Hermann wouldn’t get in trouble. And when Hermann asked Newt to play astronaut with him, and Newt insisted on being an alien and mimed the chestburster scene from Alien, and Hermann freaked out so bad he fell in a mud puddle and got grounded for ruining his clothing, and Newt got grounded for that and for watching Alien when he wasn’t supposed to, and they spent the following few days staring sadly out across at each other before Newt’s grandma finally got tired of his moping and sent him to work weeding the garden. He remembers knotting a little friendship bracelet for Hermann out of embroidery thread he found in his grandmother’s sewing basket and Hermann vowing to keep it until he died.

Newt’s half of the soup can phone is still on the windowsill, though the string snapped and crumbled apart years ago. He picks at the peeling Chicken Noodle label, so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice the light suddenly seeping through at the edges of Hermann’s curtains, or the way they’re pushed open—almost.

Hermann—real, live, adult Hermann, botched haircut and round glasses and all—stares out at Newt with a shocked expression on his face. Newt drops the can with a clatter.

Then he waves.

“Hey, Grandma?” Newt says, poking his head into the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner is a massive pot of soup boiling away on the stovetop, dessert a mountain of cookies and tiny pastries on serving platters on the counters. Newt hasn’t had food that looked this good since he moved out, to be honest. The intersection of Newt’s sad lack of cooking skills and his attempts at vegetarianism means he eats a lot of boxed mac-and-cheese and frozen Vegetable Lovers’ pizzas. “Are you—?"

“Oh, Newt!” Newt’s grandmother says. She sets down her wooden spoon. “Are you feeling rested, then?”

“Yeah,” Newt says. “Grandma, I was wondering, could I—uh—maybe run some food over to the Gottliebs? To be…neighborly? We just have so much, and—”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Newt’s grandmother says. “They keep to themselves, mostly, but I can’t imagine they’d turn it down. You might even see your little friend again! What was his name? You were so fond of him.”

“Hermann,” Newt says, quickly shoving cookies into a red-lid plastic container. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He tucks the tupperware under his arm and nearly wipes out on the icy front path he runs to the Gottliebs’ so fast. Before he can so much as catch his breath and knock, their door swings open; Hermann, dressed in a tacky Hannukah sweater, arches an eyebrow at him. “I saw you sprint over here like a bloody madman,” he says, in blessed English. He must’ve remembered how shitty Newt’s German was when they were kids. “Hello, Newton. What’s so terribly important?”

His voice got deeper—expected—and he swapped out his German accent for an English one somewhere along the way. Probably at his stuffy boarding school. He also got taller—he’s got a few inches on Newt now, but Newt admits that’s not exactly hard. God, he’s even hotter in person. “Uh,” Newt says. Why is he here? Oh, right. He thrusts out the tupperware. “I brought some cookies over for you?”

Hermann peers down at the offering over his glasses. His forehead wrinkles. “How considerate,” he says. He pulls an olive-green parka on and steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. He taps at a peeling porch swing with the end of his cane. “Just leave them there. Would you like to take a walk?”

It’s freezing, and snowing, but for some reason, a walk sounds like the best idea in the world right now. “Yes, please,” Newt says, and chucks the cookies onto the swing.

“I must say,” Hermann says, after their meandering walk around the Gottliebs’ yard takes them to the old maple tree. The branches are bare, but thick, and shield them from most of the falling snow. Hermann’s breath puffs out white in front of his angular face. The last time I stood here, Newt thinks, he kissed me. “I really did not expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” Newt admits. “From what I remember, you and your family weren’t—uh—well, very close. I didn’t think you’d be coming back to share in the holiday cheer with them, is what I mean.”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitches up. “That’s certainly one way of describing it. Yes, I suppose you’re right—my father is a bit of a bastard, isn’t he?” Newt laughs awkwardly, unsure whether to agree or attempt to weakly the defend a guy who openly hated him for being a bad influence on Hermann most of his childhood; he’s grateful when Hermann continues and saves him the choice. “This is the first year I’ve come home in a long while. My brother’s just had a daughter, you see, and I thought I should start getting used to playing uncle.”

“Oh, congrats,” Newt says. Hermann shrugs, and Newt has the distinct feeling that this is Hermann’s older brother, who used to dissemble Hermann’s telescope and hide the pieces around the house when Hermann annoyed him, and tattled on Newt and Hermann to Hermann’s parents the one time Newt snuck in to see Hermann after he got banned. He always made Newt thankful that he was an only child. “Same here, actually. Not the uncle thing—I mean I haven’t visited since I was in college. Too busy.”

“I know,” Hermann says, and then adds teasingly (in a way that makes color flood Newt’s cheeks and his heart beat just a little faster), “I’ve looked you up online. Er—quite a bit recently, in fact. I was curious. You’ve made quite the name for yourself, haven’t you, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, and then coughs. “I mean, I guess? I like…science.”

“I oughtn’t be surprised,” Hermann says. “You were always giving me bugs, and salamanders, and funny little frogs—”

Newt liked bugs, and salamanders, and frogs, but he liked Hermann more, and the gifts had a lot more to do with the latter than the former, because what kid wouldn’t want bugs or salamanders or frogs, right? Not that Hermann ever appreciated them—especially not the worms Newt would pluck from the sidewalks after rainstorms. He thinks he got grounded for that one, too, because his grandma wouldn’t believe that he really wasn’t trying to terrorize the poor Gottlieb boy. “And what about you?” Newt says. He pokes his elbow into Hermann’s side. “Dr. Gottlieb? Guess those model rockets paid off.”

(“No, Newton,” Hermann would snap at him on the rare occasions he would allow Newt to watch him piece one together, “the glue hasn’t dried yet. You have to be patient, or else it’ll fall apart.”)

“Not yet,” Hermann says, “but I hope soon.”

Hermann smiles at him. A snowflake catches in his eyelashes—his long, pretty, dark eyelashes. “Do you remember when you kissed me here?” Newt blurts out.

“It’s hardly the sort of thing I’d forget,” Hermann says. He reaches out and tucks a piece of Newt’s hair up into his hat. “I like your tattoos—I saw the photographs on your social media accounts. They suit you.” Newt wonders if this means Hermann saw the shirtless selfie he posted on Instagram. “I’m also pleased to see you’ve gotten your braces removed. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience last time.”

Then he leans in and kisses Newt. Again, technically. It’s so light and brief Newt hardly believes it even happened. Their glasses clack together, and when Hermann pulls away, he straightens out Newt’s.

“I confess,” Hermann says, “that I’m wholly pleased to see how you’ve turned out. I hope that wasn’t too forward of me. I’ve been thinking about doing it all night.”

“Jeez, dude,” Newt says, blinking at him, his head swimming just a little. Hermann looks smug. “Not, uh, not too forward. So. Uh. You wanna get dinner or something this week and catch up?”

Hermann snorts, and nods.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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chemicalpink · 4 years

Text

Trust Fund Baby ♡ Kim Seokjin

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

Genre: Fluff + Softcore Smut with a side of Comedy

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: includes softcore porn, mc cries during sex bc too much feelings, fake engagement, Jin’s mum dislikes YN

Summary: Kim Seokjin is the biggest Trust Fund Baby, it is no secret but he’s almost thirty and on the line to inherit his dad’s CEO position, which makes his family set a deadline for his engagement or he loses it all.

The one where Seokjin is no good with buried feelings but Y/N isn’t any better (they kinda hate each other and they have to share a bed okay, thats the cliche here)

A/N: banner made by me, whoa I finally got this bad boy finished that took quite some time, well, I hope you enjoy, these past few days haven’t been nice to me but I’m slowly working on it. Much blessing to all of you reading this first attempt at a slightly longer shot.

Seokjin has always been one to enjoy the finest things in life, traveling around the world at any given time? check. shopping without checking the price tag? check. attending a top tier university? also check.

The thing is, one can only live so long without having to actually work for every single swipe of a black card. He is about to turn 28, youngest child of the most successful tech innovator in Korea and a former second-place Miss Universe, and he has yet to bring a girl home that provides him with some kind of secured future to the family name.

“We are not getting any younger” his mother had said the first few times the topic was brought up during their usual family Sunday brunch, but the words fell on deaf ears.

When his dad started getting involved in the matter, Seokjin knew he was over and done with.

But as much as his dad was headstrong, Jin was one himself too, he entered each blind date knowing that he would make whoever was sitting across from him, absolutely despise him after less than an hour went by, which was quite a hard task in itself, seen as he was pretty good looking and with a heavy amount of money under his name.

See, he would have probably agreed to marry to some of the girls that his dad sent his way, but every time he sat down for dinner with each of them, they were not even trying to fake being interested in him, just his lifestyle, whether it is if his dad was about to name him CEO any time soon or how much money they could blow off in the wedding.

He could do it for the rest of his living days, scaring off his father’s candidates, that is. It was somewhat fun, earning a weirded out look when he mentioned he liked bathing in goats milk religiously, or how he allegedly liked being put to sleep like a baby, he even once went as far as admitting a fake toe kink in the most perverted way possible when one of them just wouldn’t budge.

Then again, his fun could only last so long, as his father called him up to the office to give him a 30-day ultimatum or his trust fund would be taken away for good. Now that had the gears in his head working, how on earth would any sane enough person agree to marry in a month-long time.

“I’m not saying you’re not a keeper, hyung but I honestly don’t think I can take up such a responsibility,” Namjoon laughed as they sat in one of the campus’ lounge chairs while they waited for their class to start, the elder groaned in response.

“Could you imagine having to marry THE Kim Seokjn in less than a month, but also having to meet the standards of tech genius Mr Kim and universal beauty Mrs Kim” Jungkook laughed at his friend as he patted his shoulder in pity “I don’t think anyone is willing to put themselves through it hyung”

“Could you just- I don’t know, help me out a bit? I already know I’m fucked”

“Okay, let’s say… who could pass the scrutinising judgemental eye of the Kims?” the blond one offered, just a bit of teasing in his tone “They would have to be a girl, your father seems adamant on that one” he paused as if in thought “ A nice family name would help too”

“She would have to be good looking too, my mum says Seokjin-hyung’s mum can never be seen without looking like she is about to own a runway”

“Well that’s about it, I will be broke for the rest of my life, I won’t be able to pay my student loans, it was nice knowing you guys, I’ll just have to work at some greasy old diner to pay for a one-bedroom apartment somewhere out of the city and we’ll never hang out again because I’ll be a disgrace of society, this handsome face will just wrinkle and spot without the high maintenance and- ugh” he buried his face in between his hands, resting on the table in an overexaggerated manner after his rant, making the youngers try to stifle a laugh

“Whoa, what is the drama queen crying about now?” Taehyung, another friend of theirs approached the table after hearing the not so subtle commotion “Hyung, if your night cream went out of stock again, you know I can get my mum to ship some to you, we’ve talked about this”

If Seokjin’s dramatic outburst from before had made them laugh, Taehyungs’ confession made them burst in a fit of laughter that had both of them holding onto their sides “You’ve- you’ve had to restock Seokjin-hyung on- on night cream before?”

“And now he’s going to kill me, stop laughing!” he took a seat next to them “What is this about anyway?”

“His dad said he has to marry or they will completely obliterate his spending rights”

“Oh but, how hard can it be? You’re Kim Seokjin, just ask a girl to fake marry you”

“He’s just worried that after having a taste of Worldwide Handsome, they won’t let go ” Seokjin let out an overdramatic groan at that, continuing to fake cry, sound muffled by his arms

“Then just ask someone that doesn’t give two shits about your money or reputation to fake marry you”

“I don’t think such a person exists, hyung”

“Yah, Y/N is a good option, her family is filthy rich too”

“But isn’t Y/N… you know, a bastard child?” Taehyung was known amongst their scene as a social butterfly, not caring about the protocol they were subdued into when they were children, so it made sense that while for them it was almost a rule to never consider an illegitimate child a friend of theirs, Taehyung would just jump over that fact.

“Which is exactly my point, if you show up to your parents’ house, saying you’re ‘oh so in love with this black sheep’ I could bet my life, they’ll let you off the hook”

So maybe Taehyung was right, you were his best shot so far. Contrary to what most people new to the scene of Korea’s high society believe about your social status as an illegitimate child of the car emporium’s CEO and national treasure, he knows you are more of an insider, having grown up with him but… pretty much on the side. It wasn’t like you were alien to his lifestyle, but as you both grew up and he was involved more in the family business, you had grown apart, going as far as rebelling against your father once you were grown up enough to understand what being a bastard child meant for you.

He never stopped seeing you around though, once you started going MIA on business dinners and family trips, he thought enough to see you during classes.

However, you stopped being recognisable after he attended a semester abroad, coming back home to see pigtails and pink puffy dresses long gone, in their place, ripped jeans, which were completely unacceptable for a lady, according to his mum, and driving one of your dad’s self-proclaimed archnemesis designs.

It was a spring semester in high school, he could recall the time as if it were a precious memory, while the rest tried to pretend it had never happened in the first place; at age 27 he doesn’t have to try so hard to recall the way you burst into one of your father’s celebratory cocktails, drunk off your ass, barely managing to get a hold of some mic and screaming into it how he, and everyone else attending the party, had a stick up their asses that didn’t let them see anything but price tags before you were dragged off stage by security. He had giggled at it but his mother had scolded him, asking him to pretend as if you had never existed in the first place.

So of course, the secure way out of an arranged marriage was simple: you.

Now, this promised to be no easy task, he knew you hated his family almost as much as you hated your own father, but he also happened to know his way into negotiating an infallible plan that would get you to rebel against the system you were so adamant on taking down.

“Wait wait wait, so you’re telling me, asking me, to marry you” so perhaps approaching you on your way to class wasn’t the smartest way to do it, seen as you halted your hasty walk to turn to look at him, books in hand and looking like you hadn’t slept in days.

“Yeah, fake marrying me though”

“I would still sign a contract, Jin you do know we would be legally married, right?” he just raised his shoulders as if to dismiss your statement.

“Say, hypothetically I do it, I don’t think your parents would approve of me” you resumed your walk and he found it appropriate to play dumb with a smile on his face.

“Why wouldn’t they?”

You stopped walking again and blinked a few times his way as if debating inside your head if he really was that dense“Jin… I’m a bastard child, you know how it goes around here”

“Hmmm I’m willing to look past that, yeah” you stared at him for a few seconds before smiling in a knowing way, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, not being able to see past his words to his true intentions on the matter since you two hadn’t really hung out for years “So what do you say?”

“No thank you” you weren’t about to turn around once you started to walk away once again, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him hanging his mouth open in that drama fashion he was known for.

Days passed and each one seemed to go by faster than the last, by the time two weeks were left, he could practically hear the ticking clock inside his head, reminding him that maybe he should have gone for an easier target, perhaps some girl from the country club that seemed to always try so hard to steal a glance from him. But then again, he wouldn’t get rid of her for all he’s worth.

Seokjin tries, again and again, everytime ending up with a no from you, he starts actually trying as his days run low, peer pressure, you’d call it as he set up a huge booth full of roses just outside your dorm building, a mic held in his hand as everyone around him took videos of THE Kim Seokjin making a fool of himself for a girl, your cheeks blazing red as you walked up to him, finally fed up with him as you angrily whispered to him “You’re asking me because you don’t think I am on your level, you honestly think less of me, why? because I didn’t grow up in a golden cradle like you and your friends? because I actually have to work for what I have? You’re an asshole Kim Seokjin, but I will prove you, I can absolutely charm both of your parents, I’ll do it” Seokjin’s grin taking over his features.

The first time you officially posed as Seokjin’s girlfriend, you wouldn’t have thought it would be one of the most nerve wrecking experiences in your life, having grown in a wealthy family, after your mother decided to leave you with your biological dad and his rightful heirs, you were no stranger to their roundabouts, their lifestyle and everything in between.

“Well you cleaned up nicely, Y/N” Seokjin said in a mocking tone, body resting against his black car just outside your dorm building as he watched you close the glass door, ready to drive both of you to his family’s vacation house all the way in Jeju Island

“Why aren’t you a gentleman and help me with my stuff?” you groaned as, once again, your suitcase betrays you and tries to slip away from your grasp.

“Nah, not really my thing” he adjusted his sunglasses perched on his nose as he mockingly added “...darling”

“Kim Seokjin, I am the one doing you a favour by going with you!” you shouted back at him, in a futile attempt to get him to help you as he was already buckling himself up inside the driver’s seat.

In all wealthy family fashion, as soon as Seokjin phoned back home to let his parents know that he was ‘finally ready to bring his girlfriend over’ his mum had gone all out and invited most of the inner Kim family for a weekend get together in one of their houses in Jeju, with just a text the night before having to leave campus as a heads up for you to get ready, currently on your way to catch a plane.

“Wait so let me just get this straight” you said, surprised at Seokjin’s story of how the conversation with his mum went down, turning in your seat to face him more clearly “just after month of your parents trying to set you up, you just went ahead and straight up lied to your mother by saying that you’re bringing your long time girlfriend that you just somehow never mentioned before?”

“Yeah, Y/N, didn’t you hear me out the first time?”

You let out something between a laugh and a scoff as you melted into your seat “We’re so screwed”

Two hours and a lot of bickering later, you are still pushing your own suitcase forward as you and Seokjin made your way to a rented car just outside the airport.

“Listen so- these family things are kinda..”

“Stuck up?”

“I was gonna say etiquette-driven, but yeah, stuck up probably fits best” he said as you buckled your seatbelt on, him beginning to drive away and towards his family address, somewhere from the side of your eye you could see his hand trembling lightly on the steering wheel. Could it be that Kim Seokjin was nervous? The Kim Seokjin?

“Relax Jin, I know exactly how to handle it. We grew up together, remember?” you said smiling at him as he turned your way for a second; to calm him down, but honestly it was more a thing to try and calm yourself down, having ran away from such a lifestyle, stirring things up in your family, only to end up somehow at the center of it all was sure a wild ride to be on.

“Yeah, I sometimes kinda forget you used to be so much better at this stuff than your sisters” his eyes lingered on you a second too long as you stopped at a red light, a small smile taking over his lips and the car behind you being quick to make it known that Seokjin was taking up too long to start the car going again when the light changed.

The ride was pretty much silent and kinda awkward but soon over with as the car pulled up to a familiar villa, white houses with fancy front gardens and over the top luxury cars lining up together as Jin parked on the third house on the right, just beside the one that used to be your father’s, and probably still was.

A woman was waiting by the entrance door, which you soon recognised to be Seokjin’s mum, looking just a tad older than how you remembered her from all those years ago, a bright smile on her face as she rushed to the driver’s side to greet her son.

“Ah Seokjinnie! You never visit anymore, look at you! Are you eating well? You look so thin!” she said as she placed two sonorous kisses on her son, one on each cheek.

“Yah, eomma, we talk on the phone a lot though”

“Wait so who’s the lucky lady you’ve brought home?” you stood kind of awkwardly on the front of the car to greet her with a small bow and a faltering smile, your heart speeding up at the memories of what your life used to be, fingers gripping your bag tighter in an attempt to not run away as soon as her eyes landed on you and her smile fell “Y/N? Seokjinnie, is Y/N really the girl you brought home?”

“Surprise?” Jin said from behind her as she not so subtly let out a huff and entered the house as you tried not to notice how your heart sinked at the sight, surely, you had always known deep down that you were quite the talk of the town amongst the families, with you being a bastard child and all, which was exactly why Seokjin had asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend, so his parents would drop the topic, very much preferring to see his son single rather than married to an out of marriage offspring, which not only made you realise that what you had promised yourself to make Seokjin down his words would never be true, you could never in a million years make his parents love you, and you didn’t calculate just how much it would hurt yourself as you tried.

“You can take the room upstairs, I’ll call you when your sister’s back so we can have dinner together” his mother said as she made her way inside without another word

“So I don’t think your mother likes me” you blurted out as soon as you closed the door to the room “Which I guess, goes exactly as you planned, after this I don’t think they’ll be pestering you to marry”

“Y/N that’s the least of our problems”

“What are you talking about?”

His eyes opened up to emphasize along with his hands dramatically pointing towards the bed “There’s only one bed and I have a bad back so I’m not about to sleep on the floor”

“Well that’s the least you could do Kim, I’m not about to share a bed with you”

“Take the couch?” he said as he pointed to a small couch that faced the window

“Kim Seokjin I’m doing this much for your sorry ass, so unless you want me to go down and tell your mother that all of this is a set up, you take the damn couch”

“Well I never knew you looked that hot while yelling at me, Y/N”

“You’re insufferable”

“Y/N come on, I don’t fit in that couch” he whined at you as you walked towards the bathroom to freshen up

“Do as you please Seokjin, but you’re not sleeping with me”

As if dealing with Seokjin’s mum wasn’t enough, his sister was about to burst your head either from all the questioning or out of spite from the looks she was giving you as you sat across from her on the dinner table

“So Y/N, your sisters never mentioned you dating our Seokjin”

“Oh yeah- it was more of a very private matter, we dated for awhile just to see how it went, right Jinnie?” you said the nickname in a honey dripping voice that fitted the fake scenario you had going on

“Ahh yeah, yeah, Y/N and I, we uh- we like keeping to ourselves”

“And I haven’t seen you at your dad’s company dinners after- well, the incident”

“Seung” their oldest brother said sternly, catching up with her intentions “We’re just glad to see you again, Y/N”

“Thanks”

After dinner, Jin and you walked upstairs saying your goodbyes to the rest of his family to enter the bedroom, separately doing your night routines, you lied on one side of the bed as Seokjin prepped a few blankets and pillows in order to lie on the floor “I was just joking, you know? You could sleep on the other side of the bed” you said, feeling somewhat guilty at how he had taken your past statement as a rule

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he was quick to say, already tossing at being uncomfortable lying on the floor.

“Oh so now you’re being considerate?” you scoffed- sure, Seokjin was kind of a dick, most of the time, but he wasn't half as bad as most people his age and social status, but honestly speaking, if he was so preoccupied on making you uncomfortable, he wouldn’t have even proposed to make you go through this whole ordeal “After what I just had to go through with your sister?”

“Well you kind of accepted to come” he retorted in a soft voice, one you hadn’t listened to him use before, as if over the course of the short dinner time, something had changed in your relationship “A friend doing me a favour, you know?”

“Seokjin…” you trailed off, however as far as you two went back, after news broke that you were somewhat cut off from your father’s heirship, and everyone started treating you cold as ever, you would have thought Jin had gotten the clue “We stopped being friends a long time ago”

“What are you talking about” the night was filled with silence apart from your two whispering voices in the dark as both of you laid there

“Yeah after… that time, we hadn’t talked to each other until now” Describing your relationship with Seokjin was one of the most difficult things to do, while you were still part of the official lineage of your father’s, the Kims had actually even rooted for you to marry Seokjin, whomst you were head over heels at the time, both of you were, but Jin being the good son and heir to a tech emporium, had always disliked the way you stood up against your father and the whole elite thing your families had going on; needles to say, you both completely cut off any strings attached after you proclaimed your despise to the whole wealthy ordeal and you were vanished from your dad’s will.

“I fail to see your point” and for a second you would have loved to believe his soothing voice in the dark, to still be in friendly terms at least, with him, after all this time.

“Nevermind just- goodnight” you said as you turned on your side to cuddle the pillow in between your arms, his soft voice reaching your ears once more and for the last time in the night.

“Goodnight Y/N”

“I’m just going straight to the point here, Y/N what exactly do you plan on achieving by marrying my son?” Jin’s mother said as soon as you came down the stairs, Seokjin having left the room a while back

“Nothing ma’am, we’re just really in love” something inside you twisting at the lie that could have been truth if things were just a tiny bit different than how they were evolving at the time, the words leaving your lips sounding as the mere truth to your ears nonetheless

“I don’t buy that lovebirds facade, Y/N drop the act now” she turned to look directly at you, trying to sound menacing, which, would have worked, had it not been for you handling her for quite some time now, so you just tried your sweetest smile at her “Whatever you and Seokjin had when you were teens, your father and Seokjin’s father called it off”

“I know” you tried to conceal just how much the reminder hurted, the memories flooding into your mind, of you and Jin being engaged even before meeting each other, the good times you both spent together as friends, a few months as something more, then the lonely nights when it was all over and it had seemed like a dream that just wouldn’t ever come true.

“Just so you know, I’m keeping a close eye on you two” were her last words before leaving the kitchen, off to some other place in the house.

“Yes ma’am”

“Hey, Y/N, we’re heading to the beach you coming?” Seokjin asked as he laid his elbow on the counter, you pull him towards you, taking his hand in your smaller one as you watched his mother closing in on you two from the distance before she set her eyes elsewhere

He leaned in to you, whispering “What was that for?”

“Your mother knows something’s up” you shortly answered

“Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming” Seokjin’s father looked just as he did the last time you saw him years ago, his face contorting into an incredule one as he saw you descend from one of the cars that took you to the beach “Are you and your father on a better place now?”

“Oh no sir, I’m accompanying Seokjin” if he hadn’t believed your presence at first, he surely wasn’t believing the words leaving your mouth; Seokjin’s father had always had a soft spot for you, my hardest working tobe daughter-in-law, he had once said, and even after you and Seokjin’s engagement was called off, mainly by your father even when Jin’s mum said otherwise, his dad had offered you a place in his company’s headboard after you graduated, which you politely denied, knowing that someday, Seokjin would be CEO and you would have to work under his name directly.

“Seokjin? my son?” you nodded “What has Seokjin ever done to deserve you as his fiancee?”

“The same thing I keep repeating myself” you mutter more to yourself than for him to hear

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!”

The weekend with Jin’s family was as monotonous as you remembered them to be, with family dinner after a day at the beach, plus the constant scrutinising eye of his mother on you two, which made you both hold hands more than the normal amount a real couple should, only to have to spend the night at a lonely bed.

“Jin, I’m cold”

“Well you sure aren’t planning on also taking my blanket from me, you’ve taken my bed already” he joked from his made up bed on the floor, which in hindsight, was probably even colder for him than for you

“Jin”

“No can’t do”

“Come cuddle me then” the words had left your mouth before your brain could even complete to process them, the situation all too familiar from years before, like muscle memory, your brain had just dwelled into a common relationship between the two, too easy to slip away from.

“Ohhh you’re already falling for worldwide handsome” he joked, only you knowing the truth his words hid behind them and you felt your face heat up, somehow deciding against backing up.

“Shut up just-” torn between spilling your “new found” feeling for him that were remains from a past love or keeping it the bare minimum “I’m cold”

“Fine, I’ll be there” he paused, and you knew him all too well to know that he was wearing a stuid grin on his face, wondering if by any chance the innocent banter had a deeper meaning for him too as he added “Almost fiancee”

You could hear a shuffling of blankets and him throwing his pillows on the bed before he literally jumped on it, whole body hovering over yours, his eyes glistening as they bore into yours as he kept his body weight on his extended hands, a familiar twist in your heart at the distance, his lips on yours in the blink of an eye for less than a second before he rolled off to the empty side of the bed

“What was that for?!” you panicked, not loud enough for anyone to hear but him

“I don’t know it felt right”

As you turned to confront him, the air suddenly didn’t feel as cold as before, a warmth enveloping you both that felt like home, like this place and time was exactly where you were supposed to be all along, your hands coming up to caress the side of his face as his larger ones tugged you closer to him effortlessly without breaking eye contact; both of your faces coming closer to each other, noses brushing against each other before your lips found his, an all too familiar setting for the both of you, everything feeling as if both of your lives had been a movie that had been unwillingly paused and someone had pressed play just as you were close like this, feeling as if all those years apart were nothing when together, his hot tongue lapping your lower lip as you granted him entrance, tongues dancing with one another as time seemed to slow down, a gasp escaping your lips as his cold hand found its way into your pajama pants “sorry, is this okay?” he whispered against your lips, to which you agreed, your own hands scurrying under his top to caress his torso, his lips finding your sweet spot under your ear all too easily, as if he had never forgotten about it, his pants straining by each passing second as you felt him grow harder against your thigh, hand going under the covers to palm him over the fabric, which made him exhale a moan in your ear, feeling yourself grow wetter at the display, all too familiar, yet not enough, you lunged yourself over him to straddle his hips, clothed core rubbing against his covered length in a futile attempt to ease the tension “ah- you’re sure about this, Y/N?” he found himself checking in with you before you both lost yourselves to pleasure “a hundred percent, Jin”.

Seokjin was quick to rid you both of your clothing, both of you grimacing at the cold and giggling about it for a second before you resumed your ways with one another, Jin’s tongue working its way down your body until he reached your folds, eating you out like a man starved, his hand finding yours to grip tight as he went down to business, lapping up your juices and working you to your first quieted orgasm of the night with a questionable experience, were you two to have never broken up in the first place; you quick to turn you both over so you were on top and ready to ride his apparently aching length as soon as he disctrated himself by kissing you post-bliss tasting yourself on his tongue, a smirk forming in his features as he reached on the bed side table to roll a condom on himself, your hands teasing him already as you muttered a “Your parents are in the next room” that was soon answered with a cocky “We shouldn’t let them hear then” before you lined him up with your entrance and slided down on him, hands gripping each other’s as you started working a pleasurable deep pace, moans tangling with the other’s, eyes fluttering shut and a lonely tear rolling down you cheek at all the emotions that you had pent up and were slowly releasing by each thrust as you buried your face on his neck, startling Jin and making you look down on him to check on you as he noticed you crying “Y/N, are you okay?” he muttered sweetly before kissing your lips in the sweetest form, hips stilling as he was buried deep inside you, him tossing you underneath him, angling his hips better and taking over a more passionate pace, plump lips kissing away your falling tears, as if knowing that they were caused by something bigger than the both of you “God you’re so beautiful” he said as his pace became erratic “Come with me please, Y/N” whether his words or the newly found position as he pulled a leg over his shoulder, hitting all the right spots, worked you to your second orgasm, followed by him spilling in the condom, would remain a mystery as he was quick to dispose the used condom and clean both of you as you edged on sleep, his naked torso colliding with your bare back as he cuddled you.

“What are they doing here?” You muttered under your breath as Jin leaned into your frame, your right arm intertwined with his as you both rounded the corner to greet the guests that Jin’s mother had so carefully selected for the engagement party

“What? Who?” his eyes scanned the room rapidly

“My father and- Seoyun and Junghee” his free hand rested on top of yours in an attempt to let you know he was there for you, having witnessed first hand all the history between you and your family and mentally cursing his mother for playing you so dirty

“Shit”

“Seokjin I can’t keep doing this” you turned to him, eyes panicked and wide on the verge of tears, his mind racing a hundred miles per second in search for the right words that would make you stay, he had already lost you before, and even though things didn’t quite turned out the way he had planned, he wasn’t about to let you slip away again “I can’t face them again, after all they’ve put me through, Seokjin, they took away my dreams just because I wouldn’t pace around like the rest of them, this is your life, not mine I’m so sorry” you had ran out of his grip and out the door before his brain could even begin to process it, blinking a few too many times before he called out to you

“Seokjinnie! What’s taking you so long?” his mother had gathered the guests in the garden for the grand entrance of the newly announced engagement, tired of being kept waiting, walking up to him

“I’m so sorry eomma, I’ll- I just- I have to go” in his mind he was already out the door looking for you, had it not been for his mother’s hand on his bicep keeping him on place and turning him to look at her

“Kim Seokjin, we get it. Your father and I will wait until you find a girl to marry, one that suits you well” Seokjin’s mother was sure a woman that could not be fooled, but this one time perhaps it was Jin that had been fooled by himself on letting himself get close to you and fall in love all over again, just the way it happened all those years ago, just the way it was supposed to be

“That’s what you don’t get mum, I’ve already found the one”

“Y/N? Jinnie, Y/N is not part of our world, you know it”

“Then I want to be part of hers. I don’t care if you take my trust fund, take everything, I’ll build myself up, just like she did all those years ago and all of us, we all turned our backs on her, I want to be there for her, like it should have been from the start” he would have loved to record the incredulity in his mother’s eyes as she let her arms fall to her sides defeated, the first time Kim Seokjin had fail to complied with his mother was about none other than in an engagement matter.

Truth be told, you couldn't go far, there was no possible way you could just run home all the way from Jeju Island, but somehow seeing your tear stained face as you slumped over an old set of swings that he now recalled, you two used to go to back in the day, had his heart filling up, butterflies roaming his tummy

“...Jin” you exhaled his name, his mind quickly recalling the night before, how your eyes spilled love all over, how the past days watching you go on your daily routine alongside him, had him imploding with the purest kind of love

“Y/N? Listen I-” he began, a thousand words tangled in his mind waiting to be released

“I don’t think I made it”

“Made what?”

“Your parents to like me” a smirk appeared in his features as his hand came up to caress the side of your face lovingly

“Well you certainly made me like you” he said, close enough to your lips that you could have sworn both of your breaths mixed into one

“I don’t think you ever stopped liking me” a mirroring grin traced your lips before you leaned in to kiss him, whatever the path you two were once destined to walk, it was all different now, whatever turns it may take the only sure thing was that you two would walk it down together after all those years apart.

Plus, technically speaking, Jin’s trust fund should remain intact since he found a wife in less than a month’s time, and you could always ask his dad for that place in the company he was always talking about.

#hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kim seokjin smut #seokjin smut #seokjin imagine #seokjin oneshot #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagines #seokjin headcanon #seokjin fic #bts imagine #bts smut

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everamazingfe · 3 years

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The Kumbaya Approach

Fic Summary: Trevor is the captain of his own ship and is in need of a new pilot when his old one abandons the crew. Fortunately, his trusty engineer Gavin knows of a good one. Unfortunately, the cargo he brings along with him is a little more dangerous than they anticipated.

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Words: 15113 Pairings: Michael/Jeremy, Trevor/Alfredo Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence and blood

Notes: This was written for the Secret Springfairy fic exchange in the @rtwritingcommunity discord for @doolray! This was a ton of fun to write, I hope you enjoy, and big thanks to @fornhaus for proofreading/editing! Check the source for a link to read it on A 0 3!

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“What do you mean you quit?”

“I mean I quit. I’m done with this bucket of bolts. Every day there’s a new problem, a new critical failure, a new busted part, and I’m sick of it! What kind of commander can’t get a handle on his own ship?”

“Hey! Those problems aren’t my fault, it’s the-”

“-The ship’s AI, right. Heard that one a thousand times. But they’re part of the crew, too. Which means they’re your responsibility. And if you can’t keep them under control and keep your ship in shape, I’m out of here at the next port.”

The arguments had gone on like this for several days, nearly a week now, and it was the same thing every time. Jeremy would yell about how he was sick of being on the ship and lay down blame for its problems, and Trevor would defend himself against the barrage of insults instead of trying to change the other’s mind. He knew that was a futile effort, and he knew better than to fight losing battles.

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold.

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.”

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam.

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

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There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point.

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-”

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.”

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.”

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Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit.

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him.

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

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The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat.

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack.

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well.

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them.

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full.

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you’re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

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

It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts.

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him.

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking.

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung.

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen.

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.”

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.”

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.”

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.”

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

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

The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops.

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at.

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.”

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts.

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up.

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

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

They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book.

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table.

“My… Offer?”

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.”

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind.

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?”

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside.

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on.

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away.

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.”

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

The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow.

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing.

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that.

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either.

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first.

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject.

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts.

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful.

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around.

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?”

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason.

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan.

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside.

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker.

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly.

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting.

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out.

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

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

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out.

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return.

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?”

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space.

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by.

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in.

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.”

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.”

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile.

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars.

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.”

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it.

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start.

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system.

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm.

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

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

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something.

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked.

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?”

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters.

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it.

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.”

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim.

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.”

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over.

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder.

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes.

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth.

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?”

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger.

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?”

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.”

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this.

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

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours.

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation.

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.”

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go.

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent.

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from.

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff.

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead.

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased.

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed.

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats.

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor.

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt.

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy,

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up.

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.”

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain.

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit.

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.”

“How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?”

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay.

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion.

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

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

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again.

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope.

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

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him.

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone.

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.”

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.”

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well.

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence.

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.”

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

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

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned.

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.”

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut.

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably.

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance.

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him.

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once.

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather.

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling. “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.”

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile.

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.”

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

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop.

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other.

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes).

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!”

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still.

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.”

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.”

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold.

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun.

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat.

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.”

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor.

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up.

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features.

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along.

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either.

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary.

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

#ragehappy #secret springfairy #rt writers #jeremichael #alfreyco #i hope those are the right ship names i have no clue #space au #oneshot #fic #fanfic #my fic #my writing #everamazingfe

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polpoka · 3 years

Text

Neighbor Au

Characters- Kim Rok Soo, Alberu Crossman

Ratings- K+

Shippings- Caleberu

Type- (Fluff)

Part 2

“It wasn’t bad walking down using the stairs sometimes,” Alberu grumbled.

He played his favorite playlist on his phone and put his earphones in his ears one by one as he took a short walk.

The early morning highlighted the stairway which gave an extraordinary sparkling glow. It was a pretty and refreshingly cool morning which had a slight tint of light purple. He could see the amber outline of the sun over the buildings from where he stood, the rays of the sun hit his eyes, causing him to blink at the sight.

‘It really isn’t all that bad.’ He reconsidered waking up early once in a while, gradually he started losing himself in the scenery, he tripped on his shoes and fell down the stairs, his earphones falling out of his ears violently.

“Never mind. I am never doing this again.” he muttered before he heard the sound of something playing in the background.

It was….a saxophone? Alberu couldn’t register the sound he just heard and asked himself once again.

‘Was that a saxophone? In the morning? At 9:00 a.m.? Is the person crazy?’

He peeked over the window to see an astonishing sight.

It was his neighbor who was in the park nearby, and it was him who was playing that tune, which was extremely good but Alberu couldn’t admit that. “Huh. It was indeed a crazy person.” He thought to himself before collecting his thoughts,

“Well, that's unexpected, it doesn’t really fit his image. He looks more like an insensitive prick most of the time rather than someone who’d know how to play an instrument.” Remembering last night he corrected himself, “Should’ve known better than to think of that with what he did for me last night.” He stopped his train of thought and helped himself up using the ledge near the casement. He then slowly opened it, slightly looking over the side of the window.

He sighed while picking his earphones from the tiled marble floor as he staggered while regaining his balance. He continued walking, this time paying attention to the path without getting distracted.

On reaching the end of the stairwell, he caught a glance of a kiosk. It was selling some hot tteokbokki. Even though he was a son of a rich family, he used to sneak out a lot to escape his stepmother’s abuse, so he was more or less used to eating street food.

He got some for himself before walking off to the park, the saxophone still played in the background, which for some reason helped him completely immerse himself in his thoughts.

He got a call just when he had taken his seat on a bench. “Yes Aunt Tasha?” It was his maternal aunt and the only person that Alberu could truly think of as family.

“Good morning,” There was a short pause, “Didn’t think that you would be awake around this time.”

“What a coincidence. Me neither.”

He chuckled rather bitterly.

“Was it because of those things?”

His aunt sounded genuinely worried.

Alberu didn’t want her to worry about him. It wasn’t needed, after all, it would be burdensome.

“No, it was just that I slept earlier last night.”

Alberu could lie easily, since he had experience. He had been doing it for a long time.

“If you say so.” Tasha paused for some time, a bit longer than the previous one,”Where are you?” she questioned.

“A park. Why?” Alberu answered.

“I just heard a saxophone...?” Tasha sounded a bit confused as to why someone was playing a saxophone in the park, truthfully Alberu was too. “Is someone….playing a saxophone…. in the morning?” She struggled to comprehend such strange things that were happening in her nephew’s neighbourhood. Perhaps, it was because her nephew was also abnormal.

“Yes.” Alberu admitted.

“Wow.” her eyes widened, they weren’t in front of each other but both Alberu and Tasha had known each other for a long time. So, they could tell by the tone, well at least, one of them could.

“I know right.” He nodded,

“By the way, we are still meeting tomorrow, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Great. I need to discuss that in person.”

He could feel the urgency in her voice. It was indeed serious. Yet he felt that his aunt didn’t need to purposely send her people for this matter. It didn’t have to concern her, but she still went this far. His aunt could have just said a few kind words, yet she still concerns herself with the likes of him.

‘Filthy dog- ’ he heard a whisper but couldn’t complete that thought, he felt his head go dizzy and felt chills all over his body. This one, he was absolutely sure that it was not because of the cold.

Alberu stiffened, yet did not drop the tone of his voice.

“I’m looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye. Don’t hesitate to call me if you’re having nightmares.”

“I will.” Alberu chuckled, “Bye.”

Again, another lie.

Alberu hung up, he was trying hard to distract himself from his earlier thoughts by replacing it with the meeting tomorrow.

‘So, that matter will be discussed tomorrow, What else? Oh yeah, and the stocks too.’

He recollected the work that he had planned to do in the upcoming week, he sighed again.

He put a piece of tteokbokki in his mouth, allowing the hot and spicy flavour to fill his entire mouth. He realized that it was still hot, seconds after he exhaled quickly, trying to let some of the heat out.

It was a cold morning. The spice warmed him up. He finished the entire box rather quickly.

“This feels exhilarating….” He could feel the cool breeze on his face, the icy cold air, the warmth inside of his mouth and also the overwhelming exhaustion that this week had left him. For some time he tried his best to stay awake, but his eyes were beginning to droop.He could feel a gentle whirr inside him which slowly but completely took over his mind, leaving him asleep on the bench, all nuzzled up in an olive green puffer jacket and some charcoal coloured loose track pants which he didn’t care much about. They seemed just right on him.

He hoped that everyday would be like this. But he knew that this could never happen. It was only common sense.

***

“You alive?”

Alberu was dizzy, too dizzy in fact. In his defense, he may have gotten a bit confused, and he may have reacted as a defense mechanism.

Hearing those words, Alberu’s previously closed eyes flew open, those words he’d heard before, he detested those words to his core, he unconsciously screamed. His hands covered his face before leaving a deep scratch on the innocent owner of the voice and balled into fists, as if something could harm the sturdily built man. The gravelly voice brought about memories. Some he would rather keep buried deep in him.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE???” his tone was higher and he was agitated by the other, despite him not recognizing the other’s face at all

Alberu was alarmed and afraid, incredibly so. Kim Rok Soo had no idea, had no idea what was the trigger but he was also a man with a lot of trauma so he did recognize what the brunette was going through. He was having a panic attack.

The black haired man looked at the other unsurprised only on the surface. He noticed many things. He could see the young man had a quite noticeable frown, not to mention the cold sweat running down his forehead. Kim Rok Soo could feel the raspy breaths. The man looked….defensive. Kim Rok Soo himself had been like that, that was until he met his team. He remembered the way his hyung had tackled this situation. He remembered the steps. All of them. He ignored the blood and proceeded to sit down and speak in a lower tone, trying to relax the other; he luckily had experience dealing with things like this.

Alberu did want to relax, but his body wouldn’t let him. ‘I was supposed to be away from that place, away! Just sleeping on my bed and not hearing this shit, not this voice, I even made extra sure not to. I live alone, I just don't want to hear him. Not that voice. I just wanted to wake up to an empty apartment, not that-”

“Look at me. Focus.” The same low voice spoke. The tone was almost a whisper which only the man that was right next to him heard.

Alberu moved his head to face him, slowly relaxing, it was like he had been hypnotized. He mumbled some unintelligible words that Kim Rok Soo couldn't hear much of what he said except for the sentence, "Don't hurt me, please." He was begging.

Rok Soo noted that as he looked at the other's eyes and spoke slowly,

“Deep breaths.”

Alberu thought the voice was cool, like the cold, refreshing water that usually relaxes his mind and his breathing stabilized. He felt a slap on his back which reeled him back from the unpleasant thoughts to the cold, but comforting reality.

Alberu's eyes slowly became a little less alarmed, he coughed violently, and started to breathe heavily,

“Insane bastard?” He asked, recognizing the face now that his mind was a bit more stable, but his voice was still raspy, he didn’t realize that his hand was being held by the other.

“What?” Kim Rok Soo’s stoic face twisted into a frown.

“Why-why did you wake me up?” He asked, completely ignoring the insult he had just called this man, who he believed to be older to him. His words sounded more like a croak. He had sweat dripping down his forehead on a cold day, it was as if he had a terrible dream, maybe it was just that, a bad dream.

Kim Rok Soo thought about something, ‘why?’

Kim Rok Soo had no particular reason for waking the young man up, or even patting his head yet…?

Why did he do so?

Why did it matter to him whether this young man catches a cold?

He sighed at his actions, and simply spoke a few words knowing that the other was really anxious right now,

“No reason.”

He squeezed the other’s hand tightly before letting it go and getting up from the bench, only for it be held by the other almost immediately,

“Ummm…Could you keep it like that for some time?” The voice was weak and croaky.

Kim Rok Soo was terribly weak against these kinds of things.

He couldn’t just leave him, helpless. Somehow, even though he was usually appalled by the very thought of extended skin contact, but, with this man he didn’t seem to mind.

Kim Rok Soo sat back down on the bench, this time a little farther than usual. Kim Rok Soo felt something though, was it movement, perhaps? He peeked over his shoulder and saw the only slightly shorter man creep up to him, and Kim Rok Soo just let Alberu gradually make himself more comfortable.

Something struck Kim Rok Soo at that exact moment. He hadn’t asked this strange neighbour of his name. He leaned back, letting his slightly long hair drape over the bench,

“Hey,”

“Yeah,” as the now calm person replied, Kim Rok Soo quietly noted another thing about this person. He was used to having these kinds of attacks, probably on a regular basis, and somehow that fact pricked him. Nevertheless, he ignored the weird feeling and spoke in a low voice, so as to not scare the younger man.

“I’ve been wondering for a while. What’s your name and how old are you?”

The other man chuckled and grinned so brightly, you wouldn’t believe that the incident that just took place earlier.Kim Rok Soo could tell that it was fake.

“And here I thought my name was something you might’ve seen bannered across several television screens, I’m Alberu Crossman. I’m 25 years old. How about you, ahjussi?”

Kim Rok Soo was a bit shocked, ‘did I really look that old that a person 5 years younger than me would call me ahjussi? I didn’t mind it much, I was rather happy that he was being referred to at all. What? Wait, wait, repeat that thought again slower this time, why was I happy to be talked to. Normally, it didn’t bother me, so why? Was this person special? Was he that special in the first place?’ With all these questions he only gave what the younger man had wanted to know,

“I’m Kim Rok Soo and I'm 30 years old. Nice to meet you, Alberu.”

‘This feels like a marriage meeting,’ Alberu laughed a bit at the familiar feeling, ‘It’s good that there’s no rejection this time though.’

“Ah.” Alberu realized,

“Then should I call you hyung, Kim Rok Soo hyung?”

Kim Rok Soo’s face was stoic, a little flushed but those were just the results of a cold morning, that’s what Alberu thought.

Kim Rok Soo smiled slightly,

“Sure, why not.”

Alberu asked the second most asked question in interviews, he didn’t know what else to ask this person. To him, this stranger was one of the two people who actually cared enough to help him when he was having his attacks. Also he was just a neighbour, just a stranger who he had met once, yet this person held great importance to him now. He decided that in a second,

“Hyung, have you already met your soulmate?”

Kim Rok Soo scoffed.

The soulmate marks in this world were worked rather strangely at times, sometimes they appeared at birth, sometimes it didn’t appear until the person was as old as fifty and sometimes it didn’t appear at all. It was an indication that you had met your soulmate. Sometimes they had weird shapes, Kim Rok Soo knew a couple who had a trident as their mark. The marks appeared on the exact part of each partner. Mostly it was on their arms but it varied from person to person. Some were detailed and some just a blob. People said that soulmate symbols were a sign that the two in the relationship had been lovers in their past life.

Kim Rok Soo had never seen his own, he never felt the need to. His life went on as it did, and it went on well. He had no qualms with having no mark, nor did he have any with having a mark.

“Nope.” He said, “What about you, youngster?”

‘Y-youngster?? Somehow that pisses me off.’ Alberu hadn't seen his mark either. He sometimes wondered whether it even existed in the first place. “Never.”

‘What a coincidence.’ They both thought, before Kim Rok Soo asked the other man,

“Are you usually this defenseless?”

Alberu frowned,

“Nope, with you it’s odd. I feel like I’ve met you before.”

Kim Rok Soo had to leave soon though, he had a show booked at 9 and he had just been practicing his instrument. He noticed that Alberu had calmed down and turned over to look at the other man,

Kim Rok Soo also felt the same way, somehow he felt that in front of this person, he could be himself and people were rather rare. He could count them on one hand. Kim Rok Soo nodded,

“It is rather nostalgic.”

“Um, I need to go soon. Shall I walk you home?”

Alberu was still a bit drowsy, so he easily accepted it without any complaints.

Kim Rok Soo got up and stretched out his gloved hand to the young man who could now see the man completely. Kim Rok Soo was wearing a black turtleneck and a royal blue jacket on top of it, fitting his tall body neatly.

Alberu took the other’s hand weakly, and Kim Rok Soo gently pulled him up from the bench, giving Alberu an unexpected jerk. He lowered his head in reflex, and landed right in Kim Rok Soo’s chest.

Kim Rok Soo waved off the action, even though he was panicking quite a bit inside.

‘Ah.’

“I-I’m sorry, I’m still a bit out of it, it seems. Haha” he chuckled nervously, quickly excusing himself.

“Mm. Then, let’s go.”

Alberu nodded, smiling a bit now, this time Kim Rok Soo could tell, ‘It wasn’t fake.’

“Sure.”

It couldn’t be that Kim Rok Soo, a man that he barely knew would be his soulmate. It was unimaginable. Simply incredulous.

Kim Rok Soo started walking towards the elevator, his gloved hand still holding Alberu’s.

Alberu didn’t mind, not one bit. Which was odd, because he could never bear anyone touching him, not even his aunt, yet on the numerous occasions he could toss this man’s hand aside, he didn’t budge. This person felt really special. Why? He didn’t know, he did want to find out. He needed to. He thought about a possibility, but quickly dismissed it.

(If only that was true, if only, Alberu.)

They reached the elevator and Kim Rok Soo had still not let go of Alberu’s hand. Kim Rok Soo clicked the button, and entered the lift. The lift wasn’t small, but the both were still standing in one corner. Alberu finally pointed out the obvious fact,

“Um...Excuse me, hyung, you’re still holding my hand.”

Alberu was actually glad that the other person wasn’t talking about the breakdown he had earlier. It was refreshing to not be interrogated for a change.

Kim Rok Soo seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the fact that he was holding Alberu’s hand until Alberu told him.

“Ah.” He let go of Alberu’s hand and the both fingers that were intertwined now hung in the air.

Even though the two were standing right next to each other, neither of them tried to initiate a conversation the entire ride. It was silent but it was comfortable. Not talking was also good.

Ding!

As soon as they heard the sound,they both walked out of the elevator and to the hallway. They both recollected the events that took place that night and chuckled a bit. They both walked through the corridor and in front of their own apartments.

Only then did it dawn over Alberu, that he’d forgotten another thing in his morning daze.

Alberu forgot his own keys.

#tcf #trash of the count's family #alberu #alberu crossman #kim rok soo #caleberu

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yourfangirlfriend · 3 years

Text

Wiring Issues

Multi-chapter

Rating: E! After chapter three

Chapter One

You’re a mechanic, not a therapist. Or a priest. Or whomever their creed confides in.

Besides, you like to work in silence. Sometimes there are electrical pops or malfunctioning gears that would be otherwise drowned out by music or small talk.

People talk too much anyway. Not comfortable in their own heads. They’re not a slick as they think they are when they try to fill the air with talk talk talk to drown out their own anxiety. Noise, it what that is.

But now you’re trying to think back to the last time you even opened your mouth, and, truthfully, it may have been even before he hired you weeks ago. Everything was over messages- Kreed recommended you, looking for a mechanic, I can pay- before he touched down outside your dilapidated hut a week later to begin your employment. You don't even remember if you waved at him or not. Once you got on the ship it was like you walked into a monastery. He disappeared up into the cockpit and you set about working on the problem in the hull. That’s been every day practically.

Maybe he said something that first morning, but you're not sure. The first week was a blur, most of it spent untangling the mess of wiring in the hull he had made trying to fix it himself. By the end of those first few days, your fingers were singed so badly from these messy nest you finally just decided to cut your losses and replace half of them. Sometimes he would pass by you, hovering just for a moment, but never said anything. Other than that, the only social exchange between the two of you was taking turns making caf and leaving the pot half full for the other.

The only other notable encounter happened in the second week when the hammock you had strung up in a little, out of the way nook had fallen right on your tool kit in the middle of the night with you in it. Before you were even fully awake, there he was at your door (er, curtain), blaster in hand and flipping on the light, ready to shoot the intruder. But it was just you, groaning on the floor, rubbing the part of your spine where you had landed on a wrench. Did he mumble an apology before leaving you to privately writhe on the floor? Or the next morning, when you had been checking out the bruise in the fresher when he walked in to see you crouched on the sink, lifting your shirt and contorting your body around to see your lower back in the mirror. He had left pretty quickly after that, but he must have gotten a good look and the large, angry mark because there was bacta gel left on your newly re-strung hammock that morning. It helped.

So, the routine went like this: he piloted, he went out to hunt, and he polished his guns. You kept the systems working, the lights on, and made the caf in the mornings. Most days he took the drink back up into the cockpit with a little nod of thanks. Sometimes you’d join him, and the two of you would sit silently, sipping the oily, black tar together before a little bell went off in both your heads to get to work. He’d go out, you’d stay in. When he returned and dealt with the bounty, you’d nod at each other like spice dealers in a back alley.

You’re here.

I am.

Still alive.

So are you.

Then up he went again, into his little hiding place, leaving you in a mess of wires.

Three more weeks into the usual, though, and you were getting bored. There was always something to fix, but lately, your jobs had become more cosmetic, and what monotony was broken up by your silent companion were few and far between, as his jobs took him away for increasingly long stretches of time, leaving you to your little projects. Once you had gotten the door to stop making that awful noise every time it opened, you had begun buffing out the dents and scrapes on the wall. When that was done, you fixed the bum lightbulb in the fresher and the track lights that ran through the ship, up until you got to his quarters. Then, you went to the cockpit and, using some old paint you had found in the ship's storage, that you had nearly pulled a muscle stirring with water it was so old, you color-coded the buttons. Yeah, the fucking buttons. When you decided to join him in the cockpit the next morning, the two of you silently drinking caf together, he pointed to them. You shrugged. You try being on a ship with nothing to do for weeks.

Maybe it was because you were so starved for any kind of interaction, but you began to sit with him in the cockpit more. Morning caf quickly became a routine, the two of you sitting and staring out into space together as you tried to wake yourselves up. Then, when your projects were small enough, you'd haul them up and deposit yourself into the co-pilot's chair, tinkering mindlessly as the two of you cruised through the infinite. In turn, sometimes during the evening, he would sit with you at the table as you ate. He never ate with you, but you always made extra in case he wanted to. Most mornings you'd find an additional empty dish in the sink, and smile in spite of yourself.

Maybe it would have kept going like this, this socializing like house cats, content to just be doing things around each other, you finding odd jobs and him continuing to do his broody badass thing if you hadn’t brought the caf up to the cockpit this morning and saw him with his head – his actual head- in his hands.

To be fair, you were usually noisier when you clambered up the ladder. And, also to be fair, he didn’t act like it was a big deal. But you nearly dropped the cups. Six weeks working for the guy and you had just kind of assumed the helmet was a permanent thing. Like, maybe he was disfigured or scared underneath that visor, or a breathing apparatus. Hell, you kind of had a running bet with yourself that he might just be a droid. But…ah, nope.

So when he turned to you and you met those big brown eyes for the first time, you jumped, like he had just caught you watching him undress. Hot caf spilled on your fingers.

“Fuck!” You rush over to the chair and set the mugs down before pulling the injured finger to your mouth and sucking.

“So she can talk.”

You swivel around and shoot him a look. He’s sat up now, reaching for one of the cups.

“I thought you were mute,” he says before taking a sip.

“Me?” you talk around your finger before remembering it was even in your mouth. You pull the digit out and move to take the other cup before taking your seat. “I thought you didn’t have a face.”

He puts his drink down and gestures with his palm under his chin as if presenting himself. “I do,”

“Yeah, and I talk.” You say before taking a sip. The two of you fall into an easy silence again.

“You snore.” He says.

“So do you,” you counter. “Shake the damn walls.”

There a flash of a smile before he finishes his drink and places the mug down again. Before you know it he’s pulling the helmet back on and standing.

“I’ll be gone a few days,” he says. “I left some credits in the cooking area. Not much but enough to buy anything we may need from the market.” He strides past you and makes for the ladder. It feels strange, not acknowledging how your silent routine has just been unceremoniously upended. But you don’t want him to stop talking.

“Any requests?” you ask just as his shiny little head is about to disappear down the ladder. He pauses.

“…yeah.” He says. “There’s these…blue cookies.”

“Blue…cookies…” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he says. “like little sandwiches.”

When you don’t immediately respond, he speaks up.

“Just if you see them,” he grunts. Then he drops down before you can open your mouth.

“Aye aye,” you call after him, but the bull door is already opening, and it’s still a much noisier operation that you’d like. You doubt he hears your before it shuts behind him.

Alone in the cockpit, you smile to yourself.

The big, scary Mandolorian likes cookies.

The market ends up having the cookies, which makes you a little happier than you thought it would. The market also has whiskey, which definitely makes you happy. It’s a little pricey, but you plan to tell him to take it out of your pay – which he hasn’t given you yet. So, really, it’s fair game. You keep to yourself as you wander down the stalls picking up the random things you can justify purchasing – soap for the laundry, more ground caf, some produce. You don’t realize until you’re nearly back to the ship how little you talked. It surprises you.

Thought you were a mute.

Why does that annoy you?

“Not a mute,” you say to yourself as you key in the door’s code. When you deposit your haul on the table, you hum to yourself, if only to remind yourself that you can.

"Mute. 'Oh I'm the big scary Mandalorian with my secret pretty face and I never thought to start a conversation with the woman who fixes my piece of shit ship'." You begin to put the goods away. "'I don't appreciate good button paint jobs, stock the kitchen with shit caf, and snore LOUDER THAN A BANTHA.' " You huff as you close the cabinet before stomping over to the table and grabbing the whiskey by the neck. You're just about to put it away before the thought occurs to you.

You hold the bottle up and bite your lip.

Well, buckethead isn’t here to judge you, and a clean ship is a clean ship.

Fuck. Alright.

Fuck.

You didn’t mean to get this drunk.

You had taken maybe two shots before you began to scrub up the cooking area and for fifteen minutes you thought you had just bought some shitty juice – your Jawaese isn’t great, maybe you misread the label – but now.

Hoo boy.

“You’re good,” you tell yourself. You squeeze the sponge out in the sink and momentarily become amazed just by how much water it can hold. You do it again. And again. “You are sooooo good. You’re just a little drunk and you’re on a ship,” you fall into a sing song rhythm.

Yeah. You’re drunk.

“Yeah, you’re just a little drunk and you’re on a ship, bada bah bah,” you drum on the counter before sashaying over to your little nook to collect the dirty clothes from the shameful dark corner. With more pageantry than is necessary, you swing the door to the washer open and throw the pile in with a flashy swish of your wrist. “you’re doing laundry because you smell like shit, bah dah bah bum” you skip into the corridor and head to the fresher. There’s an extra basket in there that you know is filled with towels, and in this very heady musical moment you’ve decided that you are just the best housekeeper. Gods, he’s lucky to have such a considerate employee.

“You’re doing the launnnnndry,” you sing as you kick the door open. The lights come on and you shimmy over to the basket. “Cause you’re just so connnssiiiidddeeerrrATE! Bah dah bum!” you bap the top of the basket. You haul the whole thing from the fresher and skip to the washer, banging the bottom against the floor in time.

“Uh! Uh! Yeah!” you crouch in front of the washer and begin loading in the towels, trying not to think about which ones are from you and which are from him. You are not going to think of him naked. “They don’t quite smell, but they need a cllleeeeAAAANNNN!” You reach for one last towel.

This is not a towel.

Oh Maker, if this is his underclothes-

Well, you’d just have to leave then, wouldn’t you? It took six weeks to see his face and hear him speak, for fuck’s sake, if this is what you think you’re really rushing down the hill of intimacy.

Feeling brave, you pull the garment up from the pile and glance down.

Oh god it’s brown –

And….not underclothes.

It’s…a tiny robe?

Before you can even begin to worry if this means he has a secret doll collection presented proudly somewhere in his room –

“What happened to the singing?”

-you nearly shit yourself.

“What the fuck!” you kick back from the washer and land hard against the counter.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

It takes you a minute before you put two and two together. Your eyes flick up to the comm box on the wall.

“Are you- have you been – are you listening to me?”

“Are you spending credits on booze?”

You huff and pull yourself up to stand.

“This is a glaring invasion of privacy,” you say, crumpling the small article in your hand.

“Don’t worry. I just turned it on to tell you I’m coming back early. But seems like I caught you in the middle of the show.”

“Ha ha,” you say. “He’s got a face and he tells jokes.”

“I’ll be back after sunset. Don’t dent anything drumming” And with that you hear what you think is the click of the comm turn off.

“Hello?” you call. Nothing.

“Are you still there?” you try again. Silence. Well, now you’re angry. “You asshole. What if! What if I had been…” you reach for the bottle on the counter and begin to unscrew the lid. “…having a private conversation?” you pour a small amount into the glass.

“What if I had been actually singing? I’m a good singer when I try, you know.”

(you’re not).

The comm is quiet.

“I think this merits a serious discussion about boss and employee trust!” you screech up at the box.

Nothing.

Maybe that’s what makes you bold.

“What if,” You put the glass to your mouth. “I had been loudly masturbating, huh? Just really going to town, thinking of your stupid, surprisingly sexy face? ‘Uh! Uh! UH! YEAH! Keep the gloves on!’”

Smiling to yourself, and blushing just a little, you take a sip.

“Would you have drummed just as loud?”

You spit whiskey over the counter.

#the mandolorian x reader #the mandolarian #din djarin #fi

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weloveabigblackcar · 3 years

Text

I’d just like to introduce you to these random characters my siblings and I made up on a long car ride. Last year they had to go through the atrocity of being quarantined with the rest of us.

Without further ado... meet these absolute weirdos.

Quarantine from Adam’s Point of View

March 14, 2020-Day 1

So, the whole world is under quarantine right now because some geniuses decided that eating bats would be a good idea. Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest way to go guys. We have a pandemic now… Thanks…

Anyway, I have decided to document the IQ of me, James, and Garth as it slowly decreases. Not that we had a lot to begin with, but having us all cooped up for a long time in one place is bound to go pear-shaped at some point.

We didn’t really do anything today other than process the fact that we’re going to have to stay in one place for who knows how long instead of driving around the country. But I’m sure things will get more interesting as time goes on.

March 18, 2020-Day 5

Today, we braved the outdoors and went to the store to stock up. It was like the entire population was at the store, it was awful. We ended up buying lots of things we needed, and a lot more that we didn’t need. Today has been a lesson to never bring Garth shopping. We lost her a total of six times, and when we did have her with us, she kept pulling puppy eyes whenever she wanted something even though she’s 17. There’s got to be something about her being an alien that makes it so you can’t resist it. Dang it Garth.

March 27, 2020-Day 14

James keeps asking if deer can get the virus because he’s been worrying about his family. In case you were wondering, no, James is not a nature freak, yes, I said his family are deer (kind of), and yes, James is a deer... on occasion. It’s kinda weird, but so are Garth and I. I mean, she’s an alien and I’m English so there really isn’t that much of a difference.

Also today, I read an entire 900-page book. It was really nice until I realized I hadn’t been interrupted yet. So I went on an adventure to go find the children, aka James and Garth, and found them playing Monopoly. Neither of them knows how to play Monopoly, and they lost the rules, so they resorted to using the money to gamble for pop tarts. I don’t think they know how to gamble either because usually, you’re gambling for the money, not the other way around. But thank you, James, for gambling away all of my pop tarts. I can never forgive you.

April 7, 2020-Day 25

So we’re trying to make our own food today because we ran out of Eggo waffles. It’s been interesting so far. Garth pulled out all the Kool-Aid from her stash that we bought like two weeks ago that she said she’d use, but hasn’t. So now we’re making Kool-Aid pickles, and we haven’t even had breakfast yet.

Upon realizing we couldn’t eat the pickles yet, we decided to see how many different foods we could make with Kool-Aid. We made some cookies and popsicles, but then, after accepting the fact that none of us can really effectively make food, resorted to adding to our mess of flour on the ceiling and eggs on the walls by making finger paint (out of Kool-Aid) and painting the counters. We made a huge mess, obviously, and spent the remaining hours of the day cleaning and realizing that we actually don’t have anything better to do with our lives.

April 15, 2020-Day 33

Today James learned that Garth doesn’t know how to use a toaster. We had no idea she didn’t know how to use it, and I guess we just assumed she did because she looks human enough, but she’s not… They had a conversation from across the house that went along the lines of this:

James- “Garth?!”

Garth- “What?”

James- “The toaster’s on fire!”

Garth- “What?!”

James- “The. Toaster. Is. On. Fire!”

Garth- “Well yeah, I heard you.”

James- “Garth..?”

Garth- “...Yes?”

James- “Uh… How many pieces of bread did you put in the toaster?”

Garth- “Three…? I think.”

James- “Garth, you can’t put three pieces of bread in the toaster!”

Garth- “Why not?”

James- “Maybe because it’s only made for one piece of bread? Maybe because if you put in more than one it catches on fire?”

Garth- “Well, that’s dumb. What if I want three pieces of toast?”

James- “Buy yourself a bigger toaster Garth, buy yourself a bigger toaster. Or cook them one at a time, but you should just buy a bigger toaster so I don’t have to cook my toasts individually.”

And then James walked away leaving the toaster on fire. It was kind of entertaining. Who am I kidding, it was the most entertaining thing that’s happened all week even though the house almost burnt down and I had to clean it up. If I’m being honest though, I’m glad that I was the one cleaning it up because after last time... I’m the only one I trust with a fire extinguisher.

April 29, 2020-Day 47

I can now say that I have mastered the art of knitting, and I am not too proud of it. I’ve made sweaters, socks, and hats for the three of us because knitting takes up a lot of time, and I have run out of other, even slightly productive things to do. I also made little caps to stick on the ends of James’s antlers just because I can. Garth thinks they’re absolutely hilarious. She also thinks the fact that I taught myself how to knit from YouTube is hilarious too. She’s just jealous that I can do something she can’t.

May 4, 2020-Day 52

Today, my friends, is Star Wars day. We merged today and tomorrow so that we could eat tacos in our ship. It’s taco day tomorrow, also known as Cinco De Mayo, if you didn’t figure it out already and yeah… we built a ship. It’s in the living room, correction, it is the living room now, and it probably won’t leave for the rest of quarantine. We made it out of a bunch of cardboard and it took all of yesterday to put together, but it was totally worth it. We put the tv in there and a bunch of pillows and blankets. There’s also a table and a bunch of junk food. Not like we have anything else at this point. Well, we have the pickles… but no one is brave enough to try them yet. The ship fort is pretty cozy though. Garth said that she wants to live in it until this thing is over and I honestly won’t be surprised if she does.

May..? 2020?? Day… I’ve Lost Count

We haven’t been outside in the past two weeks and we’ve been living off of the Kool-Aid pickles that we made a while ago and Garth’s hoard of Pop-Tarts that are technically mine. I don’t know what day it is anymore, I’ve stopped keeping track because there really isn’t any point in doing so. I don’t even know if it’s May anymore. It might be June or maybe it’s September, who knows. It might even be 2021 I don’t know.

Garth now resides on the ceiling of our spaceship in a blanket cocoon and hasn’t come out since the week of Cinco De Mayo. She only lets me and James in sometimes for movie nights and if she needs food. I think she’s trying to hide the fact that she hasn’t slept in a month (which honestly doesn’t surprise me) and has binge-watched all of Doctor Who and is now starting on Supernatural. Aside from Garth, James and I have kept ourselves somewhat entertained. We learned how to play the spoons last week and it turns out that in you do it by ‘Garth’s’ spaceship, the creature will emerge and socialize for a few minutes. We’ve also learned how to do a bunch of random things like saying hello in 48 different languages, how to properly tie a tie (even though we’ll probably never exercise that skill again), how to cut an onion without crying, and how to escape being mummied with duct tape… that one took a while and a lot of tape.

I think it’s official that we’ve gone completely stir crazy and even when we get out of this, we’ll probably still be mentally impaired from this experience. I won’t be able to write anymore because I’ve run out of space and James needs as much attention as a newborn so farewell until… another time.

#going crazy #quarantine #original character #theyre dumb #smart idiots #aliens #adam #james #garth #garth is short for Kilgara if anyone wanted to know #Adam is their mom

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myfanfictiongarden · 3 years

Text

A Different Horizon- Descendants fanfic

She could practically feel their stares on her, their looks as they pierced through her skin. Or maybe it was just paranoia, although she thought she was far too young for such madness. But on the Isle clocks run differently. Getting better hold of the backpack she was carrying in her hands she took another deep breath as she hushed through the halls with her shoulders tense, hopping no one would block her path to the classroom.

It has been two weeks since school started again, two weeks that she thought things would go back to normal. In the beginning everything did seem like usual, the buildings of Serpent Prep were still shabby and the walls tilted and damp from the sea air, the halls crowded with students and the playground more a place of fight then play. And most importantly nobody had mentioned a certain event involving a certain dark fairy that happened one month ago. At first at least. That didn’t mean that her former partner in petty-crime didn’t take care to leave an lasting effect. Word spreads pretty fast on the Isle, even without phones or WiFi connection. And school ground is the perfect place to turn a ten year olds life to hell. She was sure that slowly but surely the whispers and glances were ment for her, and it made her blood boil hot and her cheeks turn red with anger. She’s not gonna make me cry Uma thought while navigating her way to the classroom, only one turn away now. Luck wasn’t on her side though today. Suddenly she felt a hand gripping her arm, nearly pulling her of balance, wabbing for a second on one leg before she had both feet down again, not ready to loose her footing.

“Look guys, I think I catched a tiny stinking fish!” The boy was two grades older than her and laughing with his lousy minions. She began to wrestle her arm away from him, his grip too tight for her to escape, giggling already turning to laughter around her. Just then she could make out a flash of a red hoodie out of the corner of her eye, before her tormentor went down with a loud thud! as his heavy body hit the ground, she barely from following too.

“Look guys what I pulled on shore, the Big Fat Whale me think!” A jolly voice said.

“You’re dead Hook!!! Wait till I get you!” All scarlet in his face the boy tried to stand up only to fail at the first try, his weight making the task a harder one.

“Oh, now I’m scared! Ya first have to catch me.” Quite amused by the sight Harry made dramatic gestures with his hands before running off with a loud laugh, the older boy finally on his feet right after him (although it was clear he wouldn’t be able to catch the spunky younger one) a choir of laughter echoing through the crowded hall, everybody having fun with the given performance, and Uma glad she was being ignored at the moment. With two more strides she is finally in her classroom and more than happy when the teacher arrives.

Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the book on her table she didn’t notice when the place behind her got taken.

“Hey, that was fun. Right?” He whispers to the teal haired girl in front of him but doesn’t get an reply.

“Psst. Ye there. Uma. Come on, that was fun, don’t you think?”

Already annoyed by his constant whispering she just rolled her eyes and decides to ignore him, not in the mood for chatting. That boy can be annoying. Just then she can feel her hair being pulled, the tug far from hurting but more than enough to make her battle with herself if she shouldn’t just smack him with her book over his head. He on the other hand while hopping for a reaction of hers was left a bit surprised by the death glare she gave him after finally turning around. It didn’t really scare him, but it did make him feel intimidated. She must have been practicing, and it was more than working.

Earning herself the rest of the lesson peace and quiet, Uma left the moment the school bell (or rather ship bell) rang and headed for the playground, letting herself down by the climbing construction, anger still boiling in her, tears slowly forming.

“Tick tock got your tongue, or why ye not speaking with me?” Harry was now hanging head over on the construction beside her, a wide grin on his face as he kept swinging. That boy really couldn’t sit still.

“Maybe. It probably tasted better than your hand.” She spit back, knowing his sore point all to well. He is silent for a moment, but decides to ignore the provocation today.

“But I did pull a rather good sport there, don’t you think? And why are you so upset anyway.”

“Are you that dense? Don’t tell me you forgot what happened this summer, because everyone else won’t forget it apparently any time soon. I’m gonna be the laughing stock for the rest of the school year!” She exclaims bitterly before burrowing her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with frustration. For a moment or two there is silence, their corner being pretty deserted and the most kids eating their lunch anyway, and she is already expecting some kind of witty remark from him, but it doesn’t come.

“You wanna see a super secret hiding place on the school ground?” He asks instead and she can’t help but turn to him, a bit intrigued by this proposal.

“A super secret hiding place here on the school ground?” She asks back in disbelief, for it is not like you can find any really quiet or even secret place on the grounds.

“Yeah, come on.”

He jumps down from where he was hanging moments ago and starts to lead the way, Uma right behind him. They make it past the playground and around the eastern part of the school building, all the way to the back where leaning on the rocks of the hill that shields the school stands an old lighthouse, broken and forgotten. No one really goes there because, for one it’s always windy on this side, and the other reason being that the door is marked with planks of wood as unsafe to enter. Apparently Harry doesn’t mind the possibility of a broken leg. While usually the one always eager to lead the way (she hates being commanded around) right now Uma is more than willing to climb the rather brittle stairs up the old lighthouse a few steps behind him. Soon enough they make it up the spiral stairs, a hole in the ceiling (that probably held a wooden door leading to the look-out that has rotten away) letting weak daylight in. Climbing out to the platform they circle the broken oil lamp and mirror that used to lead ships safe into the harbor, and Uma stops short when her eyes catch sight of the open ocean in front of her. No shabby buildings block the view, no dead trees, no stupid Auradon shore. Just the endless ocean and sky.

“Wicked good view, right?” Harry asks with a wide grin, quite proud of himself that he made the daughter of the witch that steals voices loose her voice. Uma doesn’t reply and simply sits down at the edge, her feet dingeling down, her head resting between the bars of the railing. This is what freedom must look like she thinks as her eyes try to take in the sight in front of her.

“Once I get hold of my own ship I’ll find a way out and meet my true love.” He says as he leans over the railing. Not able to hold back though Uma starts to laugh, to laugh loud and wicked, so much so that tears nearly come to her eyes, and somewhere in the back of her head a voice remained her that it didn’t end well the last time she did so, but of course being the daughter of one of the most feared villains she did not tend to listen that kind of annoying voice. What did stop her though was the murdering expression she saw on Harry’s face once she managed to stop laughing enough to open her eyes, and the look he gave her made the last laugh stop short in her throat.

“What was that about?”

“You just sounded so much like a prince talking about love that I simply had to laugh.” She explains, her voice still not even.

“My da says the sea is a pirates true home and love. Got a problem with that?” His voice is far from joking and his expression is so murderous that she decides that he may not be that soft as she feared him to be. He turns again around to look at the far of horizon and she does the same, deciding to drop that topic.

They both leave out the next lesson and simply head home when the last bell rings, moving together through the streets before having to part ways at the Warft. From time to time Uma glances over at him trying to make out if he is still angry at her, not that she cares- except she does care. Coming to the place where they have to part ways something in the back of her head gets so loud that she can’t suppress it and teaches out with her hand to pull at his sleeve making him face her.

“That place up there is pretty wicked. We could make it one of our both hiding places. Deal?”

“Deal.” He replies after some thinking and a small smile spreads shyly over both their faces before being covered by two matching smirks. They turn their ways and going home something inside Uma feels lighter than at the beginning of the day.

#I´m alive!!!!!!#and back writing!!!!!!!#goodness did I miss it #descendants #disney descendants #harry #uma #huma #harry x uma #things i like #my writing #my fan fiction

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pricetagofficial · 4 years

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The Archer -Part Three

Warnings: language, violence, some cringe (because I was still trying to figure out what I wanted for this story two months ago when I wrote) lil bits of fluff?

Part Two Part Four

Word Count: 2233

Tag List: @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @catxsnow (you’d probably kick me if I didn’t tag you lol)

A/N: I cringe at little bits of this, and I am sorry for some of it. This was written over two months ago when I was still trying to get a feel for the story and how I wanted to write the characters, maybe I’ll throw up chapter four later???

Chapter Three

Rory looked around her new room, it was about the same size as her room back in Queen Manor. There was a bed with a neutral color bedspread and several pillows, with a night stand on both sides of the bed. Each nightstand had a lamp on it and a vase of flowers, probably put there by Alfred. Rory smiled at the Daisies in the vase, Oliver must have told him they were her favorite. Leaning down, she took in the sweet floral smell that reminded her of home. Across the room was a desk with a TV mounted on the wall above it with the remotes resting below it. To the left of it was a dresser set with a vanity, and to the right were two doors.

Walking over she opened one door and saw that it was a massive walk in closet full of racks and drawers and shelves all for her clothes. Did Rory even have enough clothes to fill this thing, she had no idea. All she brought were three suitcases of clothes and other necessities that she needed. Oliver told her that if she needed more, just to let him know and he would have it shipped immediately. Closing the closet door, she opened the second door and saw an attached bathroom with two sinks, a toilet and a shower with a tub.

Looking through the cabinets, they were stocked with the basic essentials. Of course, she had brought her own bathroom stuff, Rory preferred to use her stuff; it was best suited for her hair and it was her favorite scent.

Leaving the bathroom, Rory walked over to the large window and pulled back the curtains. She opened the balcony door and her jaw dropped, the view out her balcony was breathtaking. Of course, Wayne Manor was a ways away from Gotham City, but she could still see the skyline in the distance among the beautiful scenery. There was a forest, a waterfall with a small lake under it. Her view at Queen Manor was beautiful, but it was nothing like this.

Tim stood outside her bedroom door, debating if he wanted to knock or not. He was sure that Rory was settling herself in, but Bruce had wanted them all down in the Batcave for a meeting and that included Rory. After a few moments, he raised his hand and knocked.

There was no answer.

He knocked twice more, and still no answer.

At this point Tim decided to open the door ever so slightly and poke his head in and across the room stood Rory on her balcony, her brown hair blowing in the breeze. Deciding to invite himself in, he opened the door fully and walked across the room and stopped behind her. If Rory knew he was there, she didn’t show any sign.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and felt Rory tense at his touch.

Quickly, Rory grabbed his hand putting her elbow above his hand and turned, putting him into a wrist lock. Tim let out a yelp in surprise and craned his neck to look at her with wide eyes. “Rory, it’s just me.” He said quickly.

Immediately, Rory let him go. “Sorry Tim, just surprised.” She said with a shrug.

Tim let out a laugh. “Yeah, I can tell.” He stood up and circulated his shoulder. “Good hold though, but I could have totally kicked your ass if I wanted to.”

Rory rolled her eyes. “Sure, you could computer boy, what’d you need?” A smile graced her face, watching Tim stretch out his shoulder.

“Bruce wants us all down in the cave, so I came to get you.” He explained. “I think it has to do with patrol tonight.”

Rory gave him a nod “Lead the way youngling.” She grinned.

Tim huffed a laugh. “I am only 10 months younger than you; you know?” He led the way out of the room with Rory shutting the door behind them. The two of the walked down to the cave, Rory trying to memorize the way in the massive manor.

“Don’t worry, I got lost my first few weeks here. If you yell loud enough, someone will come find you.” He chuckled, watching Rory who responded by sticking her tongue out at him making him laugh harder.

“I’ll make sure that I yell loud enough so you can come rescue me.” She smiled, keeping step with him as they descended the stairs into the cave.

When they came into the opening, what Rory saw was much different than the Arrow Cave. First off, it was an actual cave and where those bats at the top? Oli always said that Bruce was one for the flair and aesthetic and boy he wasn’t kidding. The entire cave was dark, but still teched out.

There were several computers set ups, but the biggest was in the middle. Beyond that was where all the vehicles were with an exit to the cave.

Tim looked at Rory and saw the shocked look on her face and laughed again. “It’s a bit much on first glance, right?”

Rory gave him a nod. “Much different than the Arrow Cave, considering this is an actual cave. Arrow Cave is basically the basement.”

Looking below, there was a training section with multiple different assets to it designed to each member of the bat family and their attributes. Currently, Dick was working with Damian on hand to hand with Steph working on her own. Jason sat off to the side, cleaning something that Rory couldn’t see. Bruce was sat with Barbara at the computer, and looked up to see Rory and Tim walking down to them.

“Good, everyone is here. Let’s get started.” He called.

Dick, Damian and Steph all stopped what they were doing; Steph wiping the sweat from her brow. Jason made no move to get up, but lifted his head to see what was up. Tim and Rory stopped in front of Bruce, awaiting his instructions.

“As you might have figured out already, Rory will be working with us during patrol but we can not just send her out into the field without some kind of assessment. I’m not sure how Oliver ran things, but we do have rules here, Rory.” He said, turning his attention to her.

“I’ll be honest, I doubt they are much different than his. Main one is no killing, right?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Bruce gave her a nod. “Yes. I’m going to be testing you over the next few days to see if you are up to par with the others. Each of them fights differently, so it will show how well you adapt to other’s fighting technique.” He explained. “Do you understand so far?”

Rory gave him a salute. “Yes sir, Batman sir.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, as everyone but Damian fought to keep their giggles in.

“I brought your suit down here already, it’s set up in its own case ready to go. First, we will be testing your fighting skills. Alfred already brought down some clothes for you to work out in. Go change and report back here.” He ordered.

Rory saluted him yet again and grabbed the clothes Alfred was holding and went to change. The outfit consisted of a straight black razor tank top with black leggings and of course black socks and shoes to match. Did this family wear anything other than black?

She walked back, and began putting her hair up in a ponytail so it would stay out of her face. Everyone was waiting for her outside the boxing ring and she could hear them talking quietly.

“How well do you think she is going to do?” Dick asked, his voice still hushed.

“I doubt she will be able to stop all of us, I mean she is Oliver’s.” Jason said, leaning against the ring.

“She seems formidable enough, she put me into a hold earlier. Her reflexes are quick.” Tim explained, crossing her arms.

Bruce stood there listening to their assessments and concerns. “You three are missing one very important point.” He said.

“What’s that? She looks like she can barely lift anything.” Damian huffed.

“I helped train her.”

The boys stood there with a shocked look on their face. They were about to open their mouths to ask questions, but Rory decided that this was the time to interrupt.

“He’s right. Bruce, Dinah and Oliver all trained me.” She said, crossing her arms with a raised brow.

The boys turned to look at her, Stephanie and Barbara trying to hide a laugh.

“You knew she was there the whole time didn’t you B?” Jason asked.

“Of course, I did. Now, who’s first?” Bruce asked, looking between them.

“I vote Jason, he needs knocked down a few pegs.” Tim piped up.

“Why you little-“ Jason started for Tim but Bruce stopped him.

“Go ahead Jason.” Bruce said, with a smile. Jason let out a huff and climbed into the ring. “You coming princess?” he called.

Rory rolled her eyes, and climbed into the ring. “What? Afraid that you’re going to get your ass beat by a girl half your size?” she taunted.

Jason laughed, “I’m not afraid of anything, sweetheart.”

Rory let a grin grow on her face. “We’ll test that theory.” She put out a hand and beckoned him forward.

The two of the charged at the other, Jason reaching for her shoulders. Rory dropped to the floor using her momentum and slid between his legs knocking them out from under him, sending Jason to the ground with a loud thud.

Dick winced, that sounded like it hurt.

Jason got up quickly and charged at her once again, making sure that she couldn’t go between his legs again. Expecting this, Rory went to punch his stomach. Jason caught her hands and turned her around so her back was pressed to his chest, holding her arms tight across her chest.

“Give up yet princess?” he taunted.

“Last chance Jason, give up and I’ll let your comment slide.” She countered, blowing a few strands out of her face.

“Not happening.”

Rory grinned once again and used her strength and Jason’s weight against him, bending forward as Jason flew over back and onto the floor. Wrapping herself around him, Rory had Jason in a head lock on the floor between her legs using all her strength to keep him pinned making him tap out after a few seconds.

Rory let him go and stood up, “Should have taken that chance, princess.” She grinned and grabbed her bottle of water taking a drink, watching Jason rub his neck.

“I’ll get you next time.” He said hopping out, making Rory laugh.

Jason was the quickest to be pinned, with Stephanie, Tim, Damian and Dick following respectively. Watching Dick do all those flips gave Rory a headache, but once she calculated where he was going to land after each flip Dick was down.

Stephanie was hard because she was just as small as Rory was, if not smaller and she could maneuver was easier than Rory had expected. Tim only took so long because he was analyzing her the way she analyzed him and the others and he was able to land a few hits on her. Damian was a struggle because he was smaller than her, but he had extensive training outside of Bruce and he was a force to be reckoned with.

Rory was taking another drink of water when Bruce climbed into the ring. “Ready to go down again, Bats?” she said, putting her bottle down.

Bruce let out a chuckle. “Think you can get lucky twice?”

“That wasn’t luck, you’re just losing your touch old man.” She taunted.

Everyone on the side let out a laugh, quickly trying to hide it. Bruce stood there, waiting for Rory to attack. Rory was quiet and watched his movements with narrowed eyes, the tension in the air rising.

Then it happened all at once, Rory went to land several punched but Bruce blocked them all and grabbed her hand. Quickly, Rory jumped up and kicked him back with both feet making Bruce release the hold on her fist as she rolled backwards away. Getting up, she charged again and kicked Bruce swinging her other leg around to land a hit on his head but he caught her foot.

Rory let out a sheepish smile. “Hey, now Bruce. I need that.”

“I know, that’s why I caught it.” He said and pulled it, making Rory lose her balance and fall to the floor with a thud. “I thought I taught you better.” He said.

Rory let out a chuckle. “You did.” When she fell, no one notice that she managed to slip one of her shoes off. Gripping it tight in her hand, she raised her arm and threw it at his head making Bruce catch it. While he was distracted catching it, Rory got up and jumped onto his shoulder and flipped him to the floor, ending the fight.

Rory stood up again and glanced at the onlookers who stood there in shock. Bruce was defeated by a shoe?

Grabbing her shoe, Rory put it on and hopped out of the ring as Bruce stood up rubbing his head. “Nice distraction.”

“Like you said, you taught me better.” She grinned and took a seat.

#Costly Affairs #Tim Drake #Timothy Drake #tim drake fanfic #tim drake fanfiction #DC comics #Red Robin #red robin fanfic #tim drake fic #Tim drake fanficition #tim drake x oc #red robin fanfiction #red robin fic #red robin x oc

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pinnithin-writes · 3 years

Text

Hardly An Apology

Written after 417 aired. 2093 words.

There was still blood on Pleck’s face.

This wasn’t necessarily a problem exclusive to him. They were all a little bloodied, a little shell-shocked, a little worn out. The entire crew had been put through the ringer, atoms arranging and rearranging in rapid succession as the Dame took them on a ride through time. On her last day alive, too. That was nice of her.

Lately, Pleck had thought a lot about what he was going to do on his last day alive. Y’know, after he’d learned about the whole “throw yourself into the Allwheat” thing. He’d tried to stay optimistic about it - he wasn’t exactly a master problem solver, but he hadn’t resigned himself to oblivion just yet, poking at the dilemma from different angles as he tried to find another way out.

Late at night, with the eldritch thing whispering to him, he had to admit his fate was hard to ignore.

He stood at the bathroom sink, mechanically rinsing the blood from his mouth and nose, avoiding his own reflection. He knew he needed a shave. He knew he needed to comb his hair. The chores of self-maintenance piled up as the days bled together in a meaningless smear while Seesu’s campaign spun its wheels. At least they’d finally gained some traction today.

No thanks to him. Sometimes, Pleck wasn’t even sure why he came on the missions for all the good he did them. He lacked Dar’s confidence. C-53’s intellect. Even AJ, headstrong and fearless, pushed them toward their goal with his actions. What did Pleck do? Well, lately, he just sort of hung around.

A favor for Dar, really. They had asked him to be there, to be him, so Dar could effectively be Dar . And because Dar had asked, Pleck had done it. He owed Dar a hundred favors for how many times they’d saved his sorry skin.

He cut the water off. Dried his face with a towel and let out the ghost of a laugh - a short, humorless exhale through his nose. It sounded louder than it had any right to be in the silence of the bathroom, with only the buzzing fluorescent light overhead to keep him company.

Pleck had been promoted today. Second Lieutenant. Or, Lieutenenant, he guessed. A rank and a job, given out of what, sympathy? Kindness? It didn’t matter, really. Turns out he’d repaid that kindness with a blaster shot to the brain.

Coming back to Bargie after all of that was a nauseating experience. He grimaced at the memory as he hung the towel up to dry. They all had a bad habit of putting up humorous walls around themselves when they were uncomfortable, grasping at distractions, latching onto funny details like they were lifelines in a stormy sea. Making jokes was something they knew how to do, something they were good at, something grounding. It anchored them, but anchors were oh so heavy.

Yeah, keep it tight! Great slogan! Great pants! Great job! Good one, guys!

They still watched someone die right in front of them. And then watched another someone pass on moments later. A one-two punch to the gut. Nothing a couple good jokes couldn’t fix, right?

A brief moment passed where Pleck thought he was going to lose the contents of his stomach, slapping a hand against the bathroom wall to brace himself as the vertigo twisted his gut. He saw it on the backs of his eyelids when he blinked. The zing of blaster fire, smashing in a starburst against Dar’s body. They were dead before they hit the ground.

His fault. Just like everything else.

He pulled in a shaky breath, managing to fight down the nausea. Rodd, he’d been mid-apology when it happened, too, as part of owning up to his long and exhaustive list of mistakes. It didn’t matter that he’d pulled the trigger years ago, when he was someone else entirely. It was still something he needed to make amends for. “Sorry I shot you,” he’d meant to tell Dar. “It was wrong and I feel terrible.”

Now what was he going to say? Sorry I killed you and left your body in the mud? Sorry you had to watch yourself die and then clean up my mess?

Guilt crawled into Pleck’s throat and settled there. He tugged his robe tighter around his torso, a self-soothing habit he’d developed over the past few months, and exited the bathroom. Instead of wandering down the hall to his closet, his feet carried him in the other direction to the adjacent room. He heaved open the door and flicked on the light, greeted by the gentle hum of the air unit and a distinct rise in humidity as he stepped inside.

The memory of the thick air on Flerp smacked him in the mouth and he had to take a second to lean back against the door. Calm down, calm down, he told his racing heart. You’re in the hydroponics room. Aboard the Bargarean Jade. You’re not on a distant planet in a downpour watching your friend die. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his good eye and pulled in a steadying breath.

It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay.

That was it, right? Why he felt so wrong about it all. Like he didn’t have permission to grieve. There was nobody to grieve - Dar was with them on the ship now, and Dar was with them on the ship in the past, and everything had turned out alright. It was fine, they had a laugh, and they went about their business.

Pleck still felt shitty, though. He tried to swallow past the guilt in his throat.

He pushed off from the door and padded to the first rack of grow trays. He’d been coming in here a lot lately, having nothing to do around the ship. The warmth of the air and the moisture it held made him think of warm summer rains back on his home planet. Pleck remembered walking barefoot out in the grass fields as a kid, feeling the soft give of the soil under his toes as he watched the irrigation structure crawl a lazy track across the farm.

This room wasn’t exactly like that, but he did often go without shoes in here. More for nostalgic purposes than anything. The smooth metal flooring still felt nice on the soles of his feet, warm from the blaze of the grow lights. The system in here was automated, racks of machinery operating the whole process without any assistance needed from a sentient. There was no possible way Pleck could have jucked this one up.

Just like he’d-

He’d-

Pleck shook his head to clear it, focusing on the hum of the fan and the gentle sway of the plants in front of him. It made him feel a little homesick, actually, following the little seedlings to maturation. These were mostly leafy greens - butter lettuce, romaine, some spinach, a few varieties of cabbage - kept in the dark as they germinated for a few days within a square plug of peat moss and polymer. Watching the mechanical arms rotate the baby sprouts from the darkness to the light was hypnotic, and Pleck often found himself passing hours in here without realizing it.

It made him feel useful, even if he wasn’t really doing anything, making a slow circuit of the room and checking on the plants. Pinching off dead leaves where they appeared, refilling the nitrogen caddy, checking the roots for rot, harvesting and bagging the vegetables for the fridge later. Mindless, repetitive motions that slowed his pulse and passed the time.

He needed to be here right now.

Pleck tended the greens, grounding himself in a tactile comfort as he tentatively turned over the day’s events in his head. He skirted around the time stuff - it hurt just thinking about it and he preferred his feet planted firmly in the present - instead uttering a small prayer for the passing of Adelaide Wiggles. The last of her species. The Memorex had died with her, slumped to the cobalt floor of a crumbling mansion. Dignified, somehow, despite the biscuits clattering across the floor as she fell.

She’d looked her end in the eye and greeted it jauntily. Pleck wished he had that kind of resolve.

Watching the Dame’s life gently snuffed out like candlelight, while quite sad, was much easier to focus on than the other thing that gnawed at him. The thing he had done. It lodged in his neck like an extra set of teeth. He traced a fingertip over the gentle arc of a lettuce leaf, wondering if that had been the one to pull the trigger.

Pleck didn’t make a habit of firing guns, not past the old peashooter his father used to let him borrow as a kid. Sometimes they’d go out after X-Marse to the ditch behind the farmhouse and shoot bottles off the broken fridge that had lain there rusting for years. A rare treat. A Rangus vacation. Pleck smiled softly to himself at the memory as he plucked off a sick leaf and discarded it.

A blaster was different, though. It held all the kick and the power needed to kill a sentient, and in a blind panic, Pleck had done exactly that. It had happened so long ago he didn’t even really remember what it felt like, but he did just watch it happen, the stock hammering into his ribcage because he was holding it wrong. He at least remembered the purple bruise that had bloomed there afterward. Taken two weeks to heal.

How selfish he’d been. How utterly ignorant. The fact that his cowardice had gotten Dar killed snagged in his brain like a fishhook.

He stopped in his tracks in front of a healthy grow tray, pressing a trembling hand to his mouth.

He’d really done that, hadn’t he?

Killed Dar.

His captain, his friend, unshakeable in their confidence. That powerful solar flare of a being, all loud words and bold decisions and unstoppable will. Barreling through life like a freight train. And they cared about Pleck even when Pleck didn’t care about Pleck. One infinitesimal moment and they were dead.

Second Lieutenenant. Please. If he had a badge he’d turn it in.

The sob that escaped his chest was more of a thin sigh, rolling over him like one of those summer Rangus storms. His shoulders curled up and he pressed his hand harder against his mouth, as if he could hold the emotion in. He was so sick of having breakdowns in here. It was his cry spot of choice, the ventilation fan just loud enough to keep Bargie from overhearing, and he’d lost track of how many times the Allwheat’s record scratch of a voice had knocked Pleck’s feet out from under him.

He sucked in a shuddering breath through his nose, blinking away the burning in his eye. Dar wouldn’t want him crying over this. He had no right to be crying over this. He wasn’t the one who watched themself die today. Dar alone held that privilege - they were the only one who’d actually done anything about it, stepping up and taking charge, as was their nature, while Pleck stood there uselessly, as was his.

First Beano, now this. Pleck had to start keeping a tally of the friends he’d killed. Another joke for the crew to anchor themselves with. Who was next? C-53? AJ? Watch out, guys. Pleck’s coming for you.

He stood there, trembling in the misty room while the guilt soaked him to the bone, knowing he could never make this right. Dar had already done that for him.

Minutes passed, and the tension eventually ebbed from his shoulders. His breathing evened out. The greens in front of him bobbed passively on their trays of water, up-down-up-down, gentle like his heart. Letting out a long, slow exhale, he leaned his head against the cool aluminum of the hydroponics structure. He was grateful for this room full of life after the death he’d witnessed today.

Maybe one day they could talk this over. Maybe he’d find the impossible words needed for this insurmountable apology. And they could laugh about it, for real, full and genuine and from the heart. For now, though, he needed to hide himself away in this sanctuary, entombed ever so softly by the humid air and the swaying leaves. He couldn’t face them just yet.

“I’m so sorry, Dar,” he whispered to the empty room.

I’m so sorry.

#ink #fanfiction #part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work #can you tell this episode fucked me up #once again apologies to everyone tracking the mtz tag #mission to zyxx

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thekytchensynk · 3 years

Text

Ain’t No Picnic (9/9)

Summary: They were just supposed to head over to the island real quick, just to see what was going on. After all, if pirates were trying to ambush and kill the Straw Hat crew, how could Coby NOT go? And how could Helmeppo let him go alone? It should be simple enough, but nothing can be taken for granted in the New World, and when things go awry, Helmeppo finds himself separated from his captain on an island chain full of pirates who probably won’t be too happy to see a Marine if their paths cross.Oh yeah. And one of those pirates is the infamous “Surgeon of Death,” Trafalgar Law… Warnings: Occasional strong language Read it on AO3

__________

Helmeppo opened his eyes to find a curious-looking animal staring down at him, half lit by flickering firelight. He blinked groggily. The animal blinked back.

“How are you feeling?” it asked.

What an adorable voice, he thought muzzily. After taking stock for a moment, at least one thing was clear. “I don’t feel great,” he said aloud.

“Any acute pain? Your breathing sounds good, but if you feel something like a stabbing pain, let me know.”

Stabbing pain? “Not right now,” he replied as he started to wake up a little more. The stabbing had been before he fell asleep.

“Helmeppo!”

The furry creature disappeared from his vision as a familiar voice reached his ears. Despite the sleepiness still struggling to reclaim him, Helmeppo slowly propped himself up on his elbows, and took in the immediate surroundings.

He was back in that accursed open space where they’d all started at the beginning. No melee there now, thank goodness, but somehow it had definitely become night (sleep will do that, he supposed), and the bonfires here and there were doing little to push back the inky black. Just a few people remained in sight, talking in small groups, or doing things singly. Helmeppo seemed, unsurprisingly, to be in a sort of medical area. Across from him he could see a man … a bear?... a guy with his arm in a sling arguing with a guy in an oversized hat. Bear guy clearly did not want to stay on the makeshift bed he’d been given. Hat guy disagreed.

The next person, he recognized from the wanted posters and wild tales from Coby. Nico Robin lay sleeping, a careful swath of bandages encircling her middle. He was keeping some esteemed company today it seemed.

To his left, Coby stooped a good dozen paces away, speaking with the little fuzzy creature who, Helmeppo figured, had to be the Straw Hat crew’s doctor. The wanted posted said otherwise, but Coby had told Helmeppo it was the doctor and his questions of a moment ago would seem to confirm he had the right of it.

The doctor was speaking to Coby in earnest tones that Helmeppo could hear but not make out, since the doctor’s back was to him. But he heard Coby’s polite, “Understood. I will.” Then the doctor said something else, this time accompanied by one hoof shaking sternly at him. With a sheepish grin, Coby nodded and said, “I won’t. I promise. Thank you.” The two parted, and Coby headed toward Helmeppo’s makeshift sickbed, face shadowed and growing serious.

Oh. That’s right.

He sat all the way up and looked down. His leg was wrapped in bandages. The wrapping looked more or less white, not thoroughly stained red, so it seemed things could definitely be worse. Of course, he hadn’t tried standing on it yet. His shirt had been similarly replaced with at least a double measure of fabric covering the knife wounds and stabilizing his ribcage.

He experimentally tried a deep breath. Oooh. Bad decision. The surge of pain wasn’t unexpected, and didn’t rise to the level of stabbing pain that he assumed the little doctor meant, but what was unexpected was that the pain dragged everything else back, momentarily bright and clear.

The fight. That last fight.

At the time he’d been too concerned with surviving, but now, with the benefit of hindsight, he felt nauseated. How had he failed that badly? He’d talked a big game -- more than once! -- about how he was going to find his dad and beat him, big strong Marine that he thought he was. And instead he’d gotten his ass handed to him. It hadn’t even been a contest. He should be dead. Utterly dead. He’d been too weak, and got in over his head, and he should be d-

“Hey.”

Startled, Helmeppo’s head snapped up to look at Coby, who’d stopped a couple feet away. After taking in as much of a slow, steadying breath as he could and offering what had to be one of the shakiest salutes he’d performed in recent history, Helmeppo replied, “Hi, Captain.”

Coby rolled his eyes at that. But as Helmeppo put his hand on the ground and started trying to get up, he put out his own hand to stop him. “Wait, wait! Don’t get up. Dr. Chopper says you need to rest. And if he can keep the members of his crew in their sick beds, it’s probably best to listen.”

Settling back to his seat on the ground, Helmeppo glanced over toward the doctor. He looked about as threatening as a plush toy, but then again … New World.

“He said I’m not to keep you from resting when you need to, and that you’re supposed to take it easy for the next week or so,” Coby continued, glancing over toward the bear man and his hat buddy. “And see the ship’s doctor when we get back, to keep an eye on your leg, but he said it should heal cleanly if you take care of it, though there will probably be a scar.” He slowly looked back, as though he didn’t really want to look at Helmeppo, and said, “So … you okay?”

“Still breathing and in one piece,” Helmeppo said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Feels like a win today. How about you?”

“Same.” He cracked a small smile, but the solemnity quickly overtook it. “Sorry. This whole thing really did turn into a mess. After I had to-”

“Hey. It all worked out, right? So let’s leave it at that?” Helmeppo interrupted. “The mermaid’s safe, and your … those pirates are safe?” Coby nodded so he continued, “Then it was just a heck of a training mission, I guess. And we are not telling Garp about this place.”

“No? I kind of feel like we should make a report to him.”

Helmeppo sighed. “Coby, if I have to come back here again, my body will probably shut down on its own to save this place the trouble of killing me. So you can tell him whatever you want, but just make sure you’re OK with that being on your conscience.”

Another brief smile at that. “Fine. If I make a report, I don’t know what the island was called or much of anything about it. Just some island. That work?”

“I’ll take it,” Helmeppo said.

“All right. So, do you want to chat? Or you want to go back to sleep?”

Helmeppo considered. He was definitely still tired -- his body felt leaden -- but he was waking up now, to some extent. Plus, watching Coby interact with Luffy and the rest of that crew was kind of adorable to watch, even if a bit predictable -- how excitable and flustered he got. Not to mention, now that he was up, the idea of being asleep and vulnerable sounded … well, not great. Not if there were alternatives. “Think I’ll stay up a while,” he said.

Coby dropped smoothly to a sitting position and glanced first at the sleeping woman, then the bickering pair again, before saying again, “Sorry about all this.”

Exactly what he’d been trying to head off before. Ah well. “I didn’t have to come,” Helmeppo reminded him wryly.

Coby came back with, “Well, it definitely wasn’t boring.”

“You’re telling me,” Helmeppo muttered. Then, since he could just about see the question Coby was getting ready to ask, he hurried to add, “So what happened with that guy you were fighting. Was he the other twin?”

“Hm? You heard about them? Yeah, I guess.” He reached back, fidgeting with his headband, as he said, “Really all I did was keep him off Luffy and his friends most of the time. They handled the bulk of the fight. I thought the one guy had blown everyone over there up for a while, but…” He chuckled, and Helmeppo did too. The idea of trying to wipe out part of a New World pirate crew with a simple explosion -- even on this island -- sounded about like trying to stop a charging bull with a piece of paper.

“So you just fought him to a draw until you got help?”

“No. I beat him eventually. Just not in time to be much more use,” Coby said, saying it like it was something he felt ashamed of.

Which was dumb. That guy might not have been the most powerful person fighting, but he’d been central to the group’s plan. And he wasn’t weak -- not by a long shot. Too hard on himself again, Helmeppo sighed.

“Sounds like it was a whole thing. Glad it all worked out.”

Coby nodded his agreement, then asked, “How about you? Looks like things got rough for you too.”

Helmepppo knew exactly what he was asking about, but he wasn’t really in the mood to talk about it. Maybe if he just forgot about it now, he could forget about it forever. So feigning a carefree tone, he replied “Well, getting dropped into the sea the first time wasn’t too bad. But then I got cornered by a group of pirates in a cave.” He started ticking things off on his fingers one by one. “Got glared at by the Surgeon of Death -- not recommended, in case you were wondering. Another dip in the ocean to pull someone out. Another round with those pirates. Had to be saved, that time. Then back over here for the tail end of your epic fight. And for being called a castaway by some random lady pirate.”

He looked down. The bandages in place of a shirt, barefoot, missing a weapon, hat and sunglasses gone, one pant leg cut off at the knee to make way for more bandages. One hand went up to his hair and … yup. Salt-stiff and tangled. “I guess I have to give her that one,” he finished. He desperately needed a shower and like a week’s worth of sleep. He felt today’s adventure to his bones.

“Saved?” Coby frowned.

“That Law guy helped me out.” Helmeppo said. Coby’s eyes narrowed at the name, and he glanced out into the darkness. “Guess I got lucky.”

“Well, either way I’m glad,” Coby said.

Quiet fell between them. Distantly, Helmeppo could hear other lives going on around them -- people talking, laughing, shouting. The wind through the plants. The lapping of the waves. Bear guy and hat guy had stopped arguing at some point and were sharing a meal. After the wild tension of earlier, it all felt very comfortable.

“Why’d you decide to take them on alone?” Coby asked.

Briefly, Helmeppo wondered if he could ignore the question and pretend the concussion had damaged his hearing. Nah, he wouldn’t buy that. And it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to avoid. So he said, “Honestly? I thought I could beat them. They didn’t seem like big-bounty sorts. And it seemed like taking that other twin guy out was the right move.”

“Yeah,” Coby agreed. “I mean, he was throwing things off. Messing up the fight for a few people. Luffy’s shipwright can shoot missiles, but they were going all over the place, and whenever anyone tried to go find the source, they got headed off. How did you get through?”

Well, that was easy. “Because of Trafalgar Law.” He said, grinning. “It would be like if I’d showed up with … with one of the admirals. One of us is definitely going to draw the attention. Plus, I think he used his power to kind of help me along.”

“Ah.”

It was absurdly kind of Coby to sound doubtful in that one word, as though he thought they should have considered Helmeppo -- no slouch in combat broadly, but still only a lieutenant commander and only a couple years removed from abject uselessness -- a threat anywhere near on par with an infamous pirate.

And then he realized what Coby might be thinking. After all, hadn’t he wondered it himself, in reverse, at the start of this whole thing, about Coby himself being a target? Ugh. That stupid fight. The smile dropped from his face.

“Trust me, it wasn’t anything to do with me,” he said, tone going flat. “He was as surprised to see me as I was to see him.”

Some tension in Coby’s face relaxed at that. “Okay,” he said. “But if-”

Yeah, no. He was not going to do this. “I think I need to lay back down for a while,” he interrupted. Coby’s mouth snapped shut, and his eyes widened. Helmeppo’s stomach clenched at the look. But Coby just nodded and got to his feet.

“All right. Get some rest. Our ride should be back early.” He smiled, and there was nothing forced or false in the look. It felt so earnest that despite everything, Helmeppo did too. “So we can get back and you can do something about that hair.”

“Hey, it’s a trophy of my struggles,” Helmeppo retorted, laying back down.

“Sure, sure. Rest up.”

He didn’t intend to go back to sleep. He didn’t want to. But in the face of a really bad day, sometimes neither intent nor want matter very much. He thought he heard the little doctor walking past. Before the footsteps faded away, dreams swallowed him again.

The next time he woke, night remained, but most of the fires were down to embers and all but the nature sounds had faded. At first, he blinked sleepily around, trying to get his bearings. Then he saw the empty space around him, the massive flat island, and all the memories of the past day sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body. He sat up in a rush, eyes wide in the dark. The other patients were gone. Quiet lay heavy around them. How long had he been asleep this time?

“Mmm… Helmeppo?”

Coby’s voice, a little slurred and slow, came from the darkness to his left. He searched the shadows and finally saw a form standing up from the ground and walking toward him.

“Uh .. yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No. I was keeping watch.”

There were probably questions about how well he’d been keeping watch, given the sleep in his voice, but Helmeppo felt a stab of guilt. This was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to do. He was supposed to worry about Coby, not make him worry.

Stretching and trying to blink the sleep away, Helmeppo said, “Well, I can take over if you like. Feels like I’ve been asleep all night.”

“You were hurt. You should be sleeping,” Coby said.

“And I did,” Helmeppo replied, slowly standing up. Basically every muscle protested this move, all of them sore and wound tight. As he got to his feet, he swayed a little. Putting weight on the injured leg let him know that while it might be well bandaged and expertly treated, that big gash wasn’t gone. He said, “I can-”

“Stop!” The word came out partway between a plea and an order, and froze Helmeppo in his tracks. The quiet of the island fell over the pair for several long seconds.

“The others left. We swept the area for enemies. Everything’s fine. It’s just us two until the kid comes back,” Coby continued. “Please? Just rest. You don’t have to prove anything. I’m planning to keep watch until we’re on our way back.”

Helmeppo watched his friend, barely outlined in the remaining light from the near-dead fire. He was serious about this. And Helmeppo had enough experience with him to know there was no talking him out of things if he was serious enough. Helmeppo had tried. He knew better than maybe anyone.

“In that case, want company?” he asked instead.

He could see Coby’s shoulders relax a little as he said, “Sure, if you want.”

At best estimation, they were maybe an hour from dawn, which put them about two hours from their ride home. Rather than stick around here, they formed a pair of makeshift torches that they lit in the coals of the nearest former bonfire and started walking back toward the spot where they’d be meeting the kid. Helmeppo had only the vaguest idea what direction that lay in, but Coby seemed certain of his way, so Helmeppo simply followed. They came out, a few minutes later, at a place which he supposed might be familiar. Maybe. They both wedged their torches into the scant earth near the shoreline, letting the flickering light cast broken trails of glitter across the choppy black water.

Helmeppo had been moving slow, taking each step gingerly -- the island was light on crutch-appropriate branches, and stepping on a weak spot meant wet shoes before, but he had a feeling wet bandages over an open wound would be a whole lot worse. Coby never hurried him, just kept pace, and let him get himself along, but stayed nearby just in case. Once they got to the shore, he took up a spot against one of the massive leaf stalks, while Helmeppo found a dry spot to ease himself to the ground. The quiet fell between them, as it often did, but this one felt … uncomfortable. Helmeppo stared at the light on the water, waiting for the start of the sunrise to add paleness to the sky.

“Helmeppo?”

“Hmm?”

“Was it really him?”

Helmeppo kept staring out over the water, debating whether or not to answer. At length, he relented. “Yeah.”

Quiet fell again.

“Can I ask what happened?”

He pulled his knees up and crossed his arms across the tops, resting his chin on them. Sighed. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

“Why?”

Helmeppo tensed up. “I just don’t want to.”

He expected Coby to press the question, but instead the quiet returned, vengeful and accusatory. It felt like the surroundings themselves were judging him for shutting down so blatantly. Coby was worried, Coby was trying to be nice, and he was just being terse and rude in return. Just like before. Like he hadn’t improved in any way that mattered since … since then. Helmeppo tried to think of something, anything to say to break the silence, to make it less awkward, but with every second, he felt the weight of it more. He’d been an idiot. He should have kept his mouth shut, should have-

“You know, I was sure I was too late.”

“Hm?” Helmeppo turned his head, looking over at Coby in the half light. His friend was looking out across the ocean, face solemn.

“When I got there. After we heard that awful racket, that-” Whatever he’d been about to say, he bit off, and continued a moment later with a hint of heat, an emphasis on the name, “Trafalgar Law told me to go, you might need help there, and-”

“Wait. He sent you over?”

“Yeah. Since you two showed up at the same time, I thought maybe you’d come up with some plan. So I went with it.”

Huh. Yeah, Helmeppo definitely had no idea what was going on in that pirate’s head. But he had yet another reason to be grateful to him. “Well, he wasn’t wrong.”

Coby looked over and caught Helmeppo’s eye for the first time in the conversation -- Helmeppo’s own fault, he supposed. “What was that noise, anyway?”

“Something the Straw Hats’ sniper gave us,” Helmeppo said. “It was … you know? I’m not honestly sure. Really loud grass. In a handy pill. He said to snap it if we needed to get some distance. I can see why.”

Coby chuckled a little at that. “Sounds useful. Certainly helped me find the place.”

“Yeah. I think my ears are still ringing. I feel a little bad for the pirate who got the brunt of it. She just ran off, screaming. I think. I mean, she looked like she was screaming. I couldn’t hear it one way or the other.” He waggled his fingers in as close to a dismissive gesture as he could manage without unfolding from his current pose.

They both laughed, and for a moment everything was normal. Then Coby sobered abruptly, and the good mood drained away from Helmeppo too, replaced with dread. He hated the look on Coby’s face, even hidden as it was by the deep shadows from their small torches. Forget it, he’d take the uncomfortable silence for the next hour, or day, or week, if they could just … just forget everything here. Or at least his part in it.

But, as Helmeppo had figured, Coby wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Sorry. But it really scared me. When I got over there, and I saw him standing there, and you bleeding, and I was still so far away, I was sure there was no way I’d get there in time. I was honestly sure I’d gotten you killed.” His voice wound down to little over a whisper, that would have been lost if anything more than the nighttime nature sounds surrounded them, and he finally chanced a peek in Helmeppo’s direction.

“Yes, well, I should have been more careful.”

“It’s not like that! I just … I’m trying to figure out how to say this. I’m not really wording it right at all.”

“Hmm?”

This time it was Coby who fell silent until Helmeppo raised an eyebrow. On seeing that, Coby squinched his eyes shut -- a childish but familiar gesture -- and steeled himself before blurting out what was on his mind.

“You can’t let this get to you? OK? And-”

“It’s fine, seriou-”

“And I’m so sorry I let you face that by yourself! That I unintentionally put you in that position.”

Coby was clearly fighting to find the right words, which Helmeppo appreciated, because he wasn’t sure he was going to deal very well with the wrong ones right about now -- even from his best friend. The last day had been awful, top to bottom, and now that it was all over he just wanted to try to forget all about it and pretend he hadn’t abjectly failed when faced with a true challenge. But Coby was here just raking through it with both hands. Steeling himself against an urge to snap at his superior officer, he said, “Listen, like I said, just forget about it. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though.”

The plaintiveness caught Helmeppo off guard. “Why?” He asked.

“Because it’s bothering you,” Coby said.

“No, it’s not!” Helmeppo protested, but he could hear the lie in his own words.

“Ugh, why is this so weird to say? Listen. I’m not saying you’re dad’s not awful. He is. He’s really awful, and you’ve already surpassed him in every way that matters. I guess I’m saying, it’s okay to feel …” He paused, debating, before continuing with, “conflicted. Because I know you can’t just stop feeling how you feel. No one can. That’s all.”

Yeah, this was definitely not what he needed today. Bitterly, Helmeppo said, “So, what, you think I should-”

“I don’t think there’s a should,” Coby said quickly, pushing away from the leaf stalk. “It’s just, I think it’s OK to be horrified by what he did and to bring him to justice and to still be sad about it coming to that and wish things were different. You don’t have to just see him as an enemy. Because he’s not just an enemy for you.” He finally looked over at Helmeppo again, a guilty, furtive look. “Sorry. I know I should have said that a while ago.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Back when you first told me, Helmeppo. Remember? I felt bad, later. Because it was the first time you trusted me with anything.”

A while ago? What was he talking about?

First time you trusted me with anything.

Oh.

That sparked a memory, of those first few weeks as a chore boy. Of hating every minute of it. Of rejecting everything he could about Marine life without getting himself kicked out. And each day’s list of chores just reinforced that he really was just as weak and stupid and useless as his dad had said, and that made him hate everything even more.

And this guy, this guy had continued to be so damn nice, cloyingly nice, after everything. He never seemed to get how he just made it harder. Being in the Marines was what Coby wanted, after all, while it was basically the only road Helmeppo had. The kid already knew how to wash dishes and scrub floors, things Helmeppo himself struggled with at first.

Plus, Coby had been sixteen, just coming into his own. Helmeppo, at twenty, was ostensibly an adult and found himself serving the whims of the same Marines he’d been an asshole to for so long. He’d been sure they were all laughing, watching him struggle and enjoying every moment of it. Some of them had been, of course. But a greater part of that feeling, he figured now, had been in his head. Still, at the time, it had felt so real that it was all he could feel.

And watching Coby take to the whole situation as though it were completely natural had felt like salt thrown directly in a very raw wound.

It had been maddening. Helmeppo felt like he was drowning, and as a drowning man will, he lashed out and nearly dragged others down too. But despite every attempt to get Coby to either give up the goody-two-shoes act and show his own awful side or just leave Helmeppo alone, he kept just being there. Friendly. Kind. Trying to make him keep going.

To be honest, it had worn Helmeppo down. And it had just been so difficult to pretend nothing bothered him, every day, when everything did. His entire life had been upended. He had no place anymore than felt like home. The work was awful and hard and he couldn’t do any of it right. And his father was going to-

He’d never felt more cowardly than at that moment, crying in front of some kid over his father’s well-earned upcoming punishment. But on some level, it had made him feel better. And even that took him a long time to accept. What was it Coby had told him, when he finally confessed all this? It took a moment to dredge up the words -- not even the words, just the message. He’d wondered if they’d kill his father, and Coby had said he didn’t know.

Had that been bothering him?

“Ah.” Helmeppo honestly wasn’t even sure what to say to that.

“I’m pretty sure that’s why you only read the newspaper when you think you’re alone,” Coby said, causing Helmeppo to blanche. He’d figured that out? “And I know you sneak down to check through every new batch of wanted posters. I’ve seen the look on your face when you do. Like you’re so angry at the world, until you get to the end and it’s just … you go still. So please don’t tell me it’s not bothering you. All right?”

Huh. So apparently all this time of thinking he was doing a good job of being discreet, he’d actually just been lying to himself. Just perfect. It was a really good thing that Coby couldn’t see just how red he was turning. One more reason to just forget today and-

“Helmeppo?”

Oh, right, Coby had been pouring out his thoughts and Helmeppo had been sitting here like a lump. “Sorry,” he said, struggling to find words that would assuage Coby’s worries. “It didn’t bother me, you know. What you said back then. I think that was what I needed to hear. Just someone to acknowledge that it was happening, and that there wasn’t an easy answer. As for today-”

What about today? How did he even begin to explain it all? Or even the heart of it? On the surface, it was simple. But more broadly…

“I screwed up,” he said heavily. “You shouldn’t have had to come flying to my rescue, but I stopped paying attention to the fight I was in. I noticed him, before I knew who he was, but I lost track of him during the fight. Until he cut me off when I tried to get out of there. Found him then.” He laughed, bitterly.

He chanced a look over at Coby. He was looking at Helmeppo, paying full attention, and there was something in his expression that Helmeppo was kind of glad he couldn’t see more clearly. He didn’t like seeing his friend sad. Especially not over something like this.

And like that last time, alone like this, something about Coby -- hell, maybe just him being willing to be here, and so clearly willing to listen and wanting to understand -- let Helmeppo finally break down.

“I know I said I was going to find him and bring him in. And I meant it. But it was like…” He groped for the right words. “It was like when I was there, in front of him, he looked at me like he was seeing the person I used to be, and I … I felt like it. Sure, I wasn’t exactly in great shape, but part of me didn’t even really want to try. When he looked at me, my first thought was just to get away from him. And when I couldn’t do that, I was just hoping someone would come help me, because he seemed so impossible to face. And-”

His fingers tightened on his elbows. Just talking about it was dredging the vision -- his dad big as a mountain, eyes hard and mouth in a thin line, his voice just the same -- He apparently thinks he’s a grown man. Never was willing to do what needed to be done. You never belonged on the Grand Line. You barely belonged in the East Blue.

“Helmeppo?”

“I felt trapped,” he said, startled out of reverie and into verbal motion again by Coby’s voice. “And I felt like … a fraud, you know? Like, I’ve been so full of myself, so sure that I’ve grown into a better, stronger person. But the moment I get tested, really tested, I find out I’m just the same self-important, oblivious coward that-”

“No.”

He couldn’t stop a rueful laugh. “No?”

“Listen, Helmeppo … today was a mess. You can’t just judge yourself by the worst of it. Come on. You think the you from before could have even stood up to him? Much less doing so when you were already injured? Even when I got there, you weren’t backing down or running away.”

Why did he have to sound so reasonable? “Maybe I should have,” Helmeppo said. “He even told me to, you know? Said if I dropped the weapon and begged him for mercy he’d let me leave.”

“And you didn’t,” Coby said firmly, as though that were the end of the conversation.

“It was weird for him even to say it though,” Helmeppo said. "I never would have thought he of all-”

But… wait. He’d been lying about the offer, Helmeppo was certain of that. But he’d said no, and maybe … maybe that was what had caused that hesitation at the end? The one that both he and Coby had noticed.

“Helmeppo?”

“You’re right, you know,” he said slowly. “He had me down, had me dead to rights, and he didn’t … he was just standing there and waiting. I was even thinking, why didn’t he just end it? But he didn’t. And then you came, and he lost the chance.”

“I didn’t know him,” Coby said. “Can you think why he might not press an advantage?”

“No.” Helmeppo laughed a little. “Mercy was never one of the virtues he particularly liked.”

“That’s why I wondered.”

“Maybe he … ugh. No. That’s dumb.” It couldn’t be.

“What?”

“I just wonder if he’s such a … you know, so wrapped up in his whole power and strength schtick that that was the only way to ever get through to him. Like back when he escaped. Remember? He could have killed us, or subdued one of us and tossed the other. But he tossed us both overboard. After we both stood up to him.”

He was overthinking this. He had to be. Until now, he’d never given it a second thought. He’d been sure it had happened because they had been too big a pain in the ass to control and the Marines would have been happy to add another charge to his rap sheet if he’d killed them. But would he really care about that?

“So you’re thinking he might have been impressed enough with you standing up to him that he didn’t want to h… well, kill you?”Coby mused.

“I told you it was dumb.” How many of those attacks had been aimed, not at something immediately vital, but an arm or leg?

“I don’t think it’s dumb. It kind of makes sense with what you’ve said about him.”

Well, he had not been expecting that. And now that he had, the idea felt … uncomfortable? He’d spent two years trying to convince himself the guy was just a monster. And yeah, he still was. But the idea that he was a slightly more complicated monster didn’t work well with those thoughts.

But there was some relief there as well.

Maybe I can hate him, and still miss some version of him and not be a monster myself. He thought about how his dad admitted that he had changed, in a tone that sounded so similar to approval that it had actually felt viscerally wrong to hear it come from the man’s mouth. What a mess. He’d have to thank Coby for this later. Again.

“If that’s the case, I bet in his head he’s taking credit for it all” he joked, as much to bring himself out of his own thoughts as anything. “Like threatening to kill me finally made me turn into the sort of son he might have been a little proud of, even though I managed it way too late.”

“Well, if he tries, let’s just ask if he was also responsible for all the whining you did when we got started,” Coby teased.

“He’ll never admit it, but yeah, that was definitely him too,” Helmeppo said with all the mock-seriousness he could muster.

Something crackled and crunched as Coby pushed away from where he’d been standing and walked over to sit by Helmeppo. He felt something press his left shoulder. As he looked that way, he felt a presence on the other. Coby was putting an arm around his shoulders, which was unexpected, but also kinda nice.

“You’ll get him next time,” Cody said with conviction.

“Just gotta make sure I got shoes next time.” Helmeppo said. “That was the real problem.”

“Obviously.”

“Hey Coby?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

Helmeppo laughed at the genuine puzzlement in Coby’s voice, but he didn’t answer. And the silence that fell between them now, as they waited for daybreak, finally felt familiar.

#one piece #fanfic #helmeppo #coby one piece #tony tony chopper

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