#i have without a doubt spent more time researching for this fic than i have writing it
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Stewjon is Space Scotland: Names and Naming Conventions
For context, I designed an entire naming system for my Stewjon is Space Scotland AU. I'm still trying to work out the cultural logistics of it, but the actual practical logistics I have down.
To break everything down:
Stewjon is a clan-centric society, with clans and clan names having a hugely important role in the culture. I therefore had clan names feature in both the first and last name of Stewjonis.
-The last name (Kenobi) is the family/clan name, and is passed down the family paternally. This is both because I'm from a western culture with a paternal naming tradition, and also because I liked how his parents names sounded when the last names transferred paternally but not maternally. "Ken" would translate to "Clan" (I don't know if this is accurate to Scots English or Scots Gaelic, but I'm working from canon Star Wars names and trying to worldbuild from nothing so work with me here), and then the clan name "Obi" is attached, so "Kenobi" translates to "Clan Obi" or "of Clan Obi"
-The given name (-Wan, but we'll get to "Wan" in a second) is one to two syllables. All of these names are (according to Wikipedia) actual Scottish names, which I picked from the list mostly based on how well they'd sound next to the clan name.
-The prefix clan name (Obi-) is the interesting part. All children are given the father's clan name as both their first and last clan name. Therefore, Obi-Wan Kenobi, son of Ito-Benneit Kenobi, has "Obi" in both his first and last name. However, upon marriage, the couple swaps their prefix clan names to signify the tie between their clans. Therefore his mother Ito-Ceit Kenito and his father Obi-Benneit Kenobi became Obi-Ceit Kenito and Ito-Benneit Kenobi upon their marriage.
-Originally I was going to do something with the fact that "Obi" means belt in Japanese, such as making the clan names signify professions in the same way "Miller" or "Smith" would in English surnames, but I gave up because Japanese is so different of a language from what I understand that I would have just made myself very confused and everyone who understands Japanese language and culture very mad. So I just went with a vowel-consonant-vowel pattern for all the clan names and called it a day.
-Remember how I said we would come back to "Wan"? Obi-Wan wasn't born Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was born Obi-Owen (Owen is a whole 'nother thing and I decided to just give myself a freebie on it), and his name was anglicized (basic-icized?) upon being brought to the Jedi temple. Not on purpose, but it did happen. So technically the chart above should have him listed as Obi-Owen Kenobi, but I already took the screenshot so this is what we're working with.
-Culturally, it's respectful to refer to someone by their full name (Obi-Owen Kenobi). The full name stands until two people are fairly close to each other, platonically or romantically. The informal, friendly version would be their full first name (Obi-Owen). So you wouldn't call your new friend "Obi-Owen" until you're quite close, even if you're social equals. Technically you could refer to someone by their given name only (Owen), but it's awkward and Stewjonis don't really see a reason for it. All of this highlights the cultural emphasis placed on clans and clan ties in Stewjoni society.
The Family Tree
THE KIDS
Starting from the bottom, we have the four Kenobi siblings. Obi-Conn is the oldest, and he marries Yana-Eóin Kenyana, becoming Yana-Conn Kenobi. None of this happens in the story but I wrote it in the chart anyways. Obi-Eóin is nonbinary, which is why their square is white instead of blue or pink.
Obi-Mór and Obi-Pál are twins and approximately four years younger than Yana-Conn. Obi-Mór is ambiguously disabled (she has some form of muscular disability, but the specifics weren't relevant to the story). Obi-Pál is just some guy and I love him for that.
Obi-Owen is the baby of the family. He's twelve years younger than the twins (16 years younger than Yana-Conn) and was definitely an oopsie-baby. I don't need to say anything else because he is also one of the major characters of the Star Wars franchise. You know him.
THE PARENTS
Obi-Ceit Kenito and Ito-Benneit Kenobi are the Kenobi siblings' parents. I don't have much to say here other than that Ito-Benneit shortens his name to Ito-Ben, to avoid the repeated "eet" sound in his full first name. I'm sure that doesn't affect Obi-Owen's future nicknames in any way!
It is Ito-Benneit fault, by the way, that I made clan prefixes instead of surnames to be switched upon marriage. Culturally, it would have made more sense for the more commonly used first name to hold your birth clan and your less commonly used surname to indicate your linked-by-marriage clan, but I needed Obi-Benneit to marry into the name Ito-Benneit so that I could shorten it to Ben. Goddammit.
THE GRANDPARENTS
Ito-Ben's parents are entirely irrelevant so they don't exist. Sad!
Technically I didn't have to name Ito-Lili Kenuna, but I felt bad having her up there as an unnamed person. Una-Owen Kenito, as you may suspect, is where Obi-Wan's name comes from. I really wanted to highlight his Stewjoni heritage in this fic, so giving him family ties through his whole name was important to me. Obi-Ceit names Obi-Owen for her father because Una-Owen was a strong fighter, and she wants to pass that resilience to her son. Which, uh. Well he sure is resilient to things trying to kill him!
Feel free to come yell at me in the askbox about Stewjon's worldbuilding!
#mads posts#stewjon is space scotland AU#star wars#obi wan kenobi#obi-wan kenobi#stewjon#i have without a doubt spent more time researching for this fic than i have writing it#but honestly thats where im having the most fun#hey can you tell i took a cultural anthropology class last semester and there was a unit in family + naming conventions?#can you tell im taking a linguistics class this semester?#i dont think its obvious. it's probably really super subtle and sprinkled lightly throughout the post right#right? guys? right?#this fic started out as an excuse to write about textiles and its turned into a scots gaelic linguistic deep dive <- this user is autistic#something else about the naming system that I didnt get into the post is that it reinforces a hetero+allonormative society#because marriage is hugely important to naming practices and clan names are based on the father's clan#which presupposes there even being a father in the marriage#or even a marriage#I dont know what yana-conn and Obi-eóin will do with their kids. theyre part of the younger generation and obi-eóin is being nb is a very#strange concept for many of the older generations#given that this is star wars and xenobiology exists i dont think there would be a huge backlash#but stewjon is a human-centric society so they're not as used to non-binary *human* genders#aliens? sure. humans? uhhhh we didnt know you could do that. weird.#obi-eóin's name is never even fucking mentioned in the fic btw im just going insane over here with worldbuilding#long post
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Hihi~
Congrats on 450 followers! You deserve it~
May I please get Jango Fett with a f!reader with the prompts "Working together again, it's just like old times." And "Can't sleep?"
Please and thank you~
❤️ - @vodika-vibes
Thank you so much for the congratulations and for being my first request @vodika-vibes
I've never written Jango before, but I hope I did him justice after a quick research.
Love oo,
His Princess
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Jango watched as you took a sip of your drink. It’s been a long time since you two have worked together. In fact, the last time you did, things progressed more than he would’ve liked … who was he kidding, he wished he could have more with you. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not in this life anyway, not when everything in his life was up in the air after he lost as Mand’alor. If he had kept his title, maybe things would’ve been different, maybe he would’ve found you sooner, maybe instead of seeing you in this cantina, he would’ve seen you waking up beside him in his arms. With the sound of tiny feet running around in the early mornings. Maybe …
He stood from his seat, and promptly took the seat in front of you, “Princess, been a while.”
“That it has…” Your eyes narrowed on his visor, you wanted to be angry, you wanted to tell him to get up and walk away, but you knew you couldn’t. Not when he already possessed so much of your heart. “What brings you here?”
“A job” Jango wanted to keep it simple, straightforward. No unnecessary promises or expectations. At least he would try to keep it simple.
“And you need me for that?”
“I trust you”
That was the pinnacle of it, wasn’t it. Just those three words and you were ready to jump up and walk on to his Firespray, who cared about your heart, your feelings, or how devastated you’d be once he walked away again or dropped you off somewhere without so much as an ‘I’ll call you.’
“Well that’s the real crux of it, isn’t it?” You let out a sigh, you both knew you’d say yes. That was never going to be a doubt, but you weren’t going to give in to him that easily.
“How much?”
“10,000… but since we’re friends, you can pay me half now, half when we’re done.”
Jango rubbed his thumb and forefingers together, “Fine.”
“Now, look at that” you smiled, trying hard not to let the joy in your heart beam all the way to your lips, “working together again, it’s just like old times.”
“I’m at docking bay D-342, I’ll be leaving in two hours. I’ll have your money ready, then.”
“Docking bay D-342.” Was all you repeated, as he stood and walked out of the cantina. You sat there letting out a shuddering sigh, as you tried to keep your nerves intact. You couldn’t let yourself fall for him again, you couldn’t afford to spend two weeks in bed crying that he wouldn’t come back. You couldn’t.
You swallowed your nervousness and anxiety with a final swig of your drink.
You glanced down at the bag that held all your belongings, you don’t know why he gave you two hours, but you didn’t really need them. The irony was, you were always ready to go in case he did show up in front of you once again, now that he had … you just couldn’t move your feet to actually go after him.
You slowly walked up the ramp of his Firespray, you dropped your bag in the spot that had been ‘yours’ from way back when; at least until he felt you had gotten too close … or maybe it was that he got too close, or maybe you weren’t close enough… frankly, you didn’t want to think about that anymore. You had spent months worrying about, trying to figure out what you did wrong, finally you decided you were done thinking about it, but low and behold you’re back on the ship not even five minutes and you were already spinning.
You closed your eyes, steadying yourself, as you climbed the ladder into the cockpit, sitting beside him.
“Here” Jango passed a pouch full of credits, “your first half.”
“Thanks,” you took it without further discussion, and tucked it into your pocket. You didn’t need to count it. You trusted him just as much as he trusted you.
“You can sleep if you want” he finally stated after almost three hours of silence in the cockpit, nothing being said by either of you as you looked out the transparisteel screen at the hyperspace lane before you.
“No, thanks”
“Still, can’t sleep?”
“I can … sometimes … rarely.”
“Try now, I’m here. You’re safe.”
You turned your head to look at him, and there it was - the reason you had fallen in love with him. He was your shield, your rock, no matter what, you knew he’d be there to watch over you.
“Why …” you caught yourself before you finished your sentence, there was no point in asking, why, he left? Why, he never called? Why did he bother walking back into your life now?
“Why…” he repeated, hoping you’d finish your sentence. Hoping his Princess would ask him to stay, to never leave her again. God, how he wanted you to say it. He needed you to say it.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You changed the question, there was no point in pulling a thread you knew wouldn’t be going anywhere.
“Making sure I have all the details I need for the job, double checking a few things. Seeing if we need to stop somewhere before we get to our destination.”
You nodded, letting out a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were expecting as an answer, but you should’ve known it would’ve been a pragmatic one. “Alright, well … I’ll try and close my eyes for an hour or two.”
“We have some time before we get there, so just sleep as much as you can.” Jango focused on the screens in front of him, he couldn’t look at you right now, because if he did, you would’ve seen the longing in his eyes, wanting you to ask him to join you. Wanting … no, needing to wrap his arms around you, to smell your hair, to feel your body pressed against his … he couldn’t look at you until he got his own feelings and desires under control. Your actions were clear, you’d be here to help him with the job, nothing more.
You stood, hesitating for a second before you climbed down, wanting to tell him you needed him to join you. But your mouth wouldn’t open, it refused to let your heart speak no matter how much you begged. You looked at the back of his head one last time, praying he’d turn around and look at you, praying he could see how much you needed him. But he never did, so you climbed down and headed to his quarters. Even if he didn’t join you, at least his bed smelled like him, and for a brief few hours you could delude yourself into thinking you belonged here.
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Quick facts about me that no one asked for:
Figured since I’ve posted more here and answered some asks, I would share some facts about me on my blog both BTS/Jikook related and non related.
1.) I became ARMY during quarantine era. A friend got me into them. After I watched their MMA 2019 performance I was blown away. She was a Yoongi bias so that is whose content I initially watched and gravitated towards. When I ventured out on my own and watched more performance stages and Run BTS I knew immediately that I was drawn to Jimin. Everything from his stage presence, gorgeous vocals and dance lines, funny and sassy personality, but also super empathetic and caring. He was it for me and still is. But I do love all seven of them. I could probably rank them in order of my “favorites” but Jimin would be number 1 without a doubt.
***super fun fact is that I actually first was exposed to BTS in 2017 :( that’s right, I could have stanned back then. I frequently kind of kidding but not really refer to this as my biggest regret. An undergrad in my research group was obsessed with them. She showed me a clip of them dancing and probably because I didn’t like her that much (she was friends with someone toxic) I chalked it up as so they sing and dance? Who cares. I ended up reconnecting with her later when I stanned and found out that she was a low-key TKK shipper and loved reading their fanfics. By that point, I was already sus of Jikook so we clashed and I don’t talk to her. 🤣
2.) That brings me to point number two. The most important: Jikook. I wish I could remember the first time I was like yep this is a thing but I don’t. I do remember the first Jikook moment that I was exposed to was their Black Swan pas de deux. I remember finding their chemistry palpable and bold of them to perform a romantic dance together but that was it. The more I watched Run BTS and being a Jimin bias I couldn’t help but notice JK too and their closeness. What was the nail in the coffin so to speak? The cliches. GCF Tokyo and Rosebowl did it for me and I’ve been endeared by them ever since.
3.) I’m a sort of Jikook fanfic writer on A03 who I guess is on a hiatus and has been for awhile now. I love fanfiction and have been reading it and writing it a little since I was like 12. I was never a RPF girlie until BTS but I view them as characters in a story because that is what they are when I’m reading or writing fics. Not the actual people.
4.) I’m asexual and probably aromatic to some extent too. Asexuality is so misunderstood, I could go on about it for days, but I’m not the authority on it by any means. I like the idea of sex in the abstract. Fanfics, great. M/M where I don’t feel inserted in the act, even better. I’m not a prude, I just don’t experience sexual attraction. The idea of looking at someone even the tannies and wanting to fuck them makes me uncomfortable and it’s something I can’t relate to and have never felt. I’ve had sex of course, but it’s never lived up to the hype for me. I can definitely live without it. As far as being aromantic that I’m not sure. I love the idea of romance or I wouldn’t be so smitten with Jikook and other cute couples. I don’t actively seek romance in my life. I don’t date or want to date. I haven’t had a crush on someone in like 10 years. I’m not opposed to it. Their gender wouldn’t matter to me but it’s not something I feel like I need in my life. If you are anywhere on the ace spectrum or are LGBTQIA+, hi you are more than welcome here.
5.) I’m educated! I have a PhD in chemistry. I am on the Professor track and I teach organic chemistry. I spent 7 years in grad school combined for my masters and PhD.
So yeah! This way you know a little about me when you send in asks. I am terrible at formatting and use my phone only for Tumblr, so my blog probably won’t ever be pretty. I’m just here for connections and content that is more in depth than Twitter. Yes, I’m still calling it twitter. Sorry not sorry Elon.
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A Gondi Christmas
yet another old fic. @ronaldofandom aap bohot mehnat karvaate ho. hope you remember what you commented :))
//
Everything seemed to be in order. Just like he had discussed with Ram. But the gond warrior was thrumming with nervous energy. What if she doesn’t like it? What if it is not up to the mark? What if she finds it offensive? She must have had grand and opulent and intricate events before this. What if this seems childish and dull and bland in comparison? I should have spent more. If not monetarily, then in efforts. Ughh! This is not where it is supposed to be! Bheem walks around and adjusts the ornaments for a thousandth time.
“Annayaa! Leave it be!” came an irked voice from behind him. Lacchu dragged him by his arm outside. “You’ll spoil it now if you fuss about it more! Trust me. She will love it.” The younger man assured him with a gentler tone. Bheem looked at his friend. The one who had helped him with the decor. The one who had actually listened to Ram’s instructions for the first time and followed them to a T without making any fuss just because he knew how much this meant to Bheem.
Bheem smiled at him, a beaming smile that Lacchu reflected without missing a beat. He wrapped his arm around Lacchu’s shoulders, his closest friend, his little brother. He had heard about this strange winter solstice festival that the British celebrated for the first time from Jenny, not catching much but the word Christmas had been etched in his mind. As she was rambling about how it was, what people normally did, what they ate, cogs had been turning in Bheem’s mind. It had been almost nine months that she had been staying with them.
A self-imposed exile she had chosen for herself after the whole debacle, no longer wanting to ally with her own people in any form. Wanting to be a part of the revolution- she had cited her reasons, and her usefulness if she were to join them. She could give them insight into the workings of the Empire, teach the revolutionaries their language so that they could fit in better and how she would be an asset to them and not a liability. Deep down, they both knew it was more than that though, and Bheem would have been ecstatic about her living with him anyway. However, he also knew Jenny was remorseful and a girl with self-respect. She would hate for herself to impose on the tribe, needing a purpose like everyone else who had joined the cause in one way or another. There was a deep-seated need in her to be accepted in the tribe, to be useful in every way possible.
Who was Bheem to deny her that? Who was Bheem to her anyway? Yes, they were friends, and yes he wanted more. But did she? Lacchu had called him a fool and threatened to throw a stone at his thick skull when he confessed his doubts about it to him. His exact words being, “How can a person as smart as you be so dumb? How can you, someone who can spot a tiger hiding yards away can not see her love for you? TELL HER! Do something nice for her in this Christmas festival she celebrates and TELL HER!!! Or I’ll hit you with the same tree over your head.”
Thus, had begun thorough research on Bheem’s part about what the festival was with help of local library resources from the city and a long series of multiple letters exchanged with Ram followed by a week of intense preparation in the time when he was visiting a few days before December 25th. Through all this, Lacchu had been a dedicated assistant, pitching in the most amazing ideas. Who knew the guy was a genius in arts and craft?
“Thank you, Lacchu!” the curly haired man turned, holding Lacchu’s shoulders in a firm grip and squeezing once. “Really! This wouldn’t have been possible without your help. You’re the best chinna anyone can ask for!” His eyes grew misty as Bheem showered him with compliments.
The whole process of preparation had helped Lacchu grow closer to his anna. His best friend. Since a while, it had been as if there was a chasm of formality between them that had been growing wider, especially after the entry of new people in Bheem’s life. Like Jenny. And Ram. Although Lacchu garnered nothing but love and respect for Jenny unlike his unscathed loathing towards the latter, he had still been aloof. More and more with each passing day. Of course he never let any of his emotions surface, he didn’t want Bheem to feel guilty or even sad, but it did hurt that the one person he considered his best friend, the one who had been his ideal, the one who had always been with him almost 24x7 from childhood: he now had to share with others. People who mattered to Bheem more than Lacchu now, the younger man was cast aside.
Lacchu blinked away the tears on the verge of forming beneath his lids and shook the melancholic thoughts away. Christmas was supposed to be about joy, and today was not about him. He shooed Bheem away, “Now go! Bring her in before she suspects anything. I don’t know how much longer Malli can keep the suspense and stall her class seeing as she herself is throbbing with excitement more than any of us.” A smile gracing his lips at the retreating back of anxious Bheem.
…
“Bheem! Please remove the blind-fold now.” Jenny urged as she was led in via a soft grip on her arm by the gond man. “What is it that you wanted to show me anyway? I was in the middle of my last evening class!” She chastised him for rushing her so.
“Just a few more steps please. And stop being so dramatic! It was the end of your session and you know it.” Bheem retorted.
A couple more steps and Jenny felt the warmth of the hut. It was not cold in these parts in the winters, especially not to her tastes, but there was a nip in the air tonight. The feel of grass beneath her slippers was gone, replaced with hardened ground. She felt Bheem let go of her, the black fabric sliding away from her eyes in a swift motion. She blinked a couple of times, her eyes adjusting to the light.
Her imagination had been running amok as to what it would be that Bheem wanted to surprise her with. And the whole blind-fold thing was as juvenile as it was unnecessary in her mind but enchantingly endearing because it was Bheem. She could not refuse his doe-eyes and that puppy face when he had requested her to comply and that it was important to create a dramatic effect. Even Malli was hopping up and down, gushing about how she would love it. However, in the wildest of her imaginations, she had not been prepared for the sight that greeted her.
It was her hut, alright. The room had been lit with diyas, and a five feet tree laden with all sorts of trinkets and ornaments stood in the middle of it. It was a Christmas tree alright, but it wasn’t pine or fir, it was created from bamboo. An almost exact replica of a Doulgas fir. The branches, the intricately woven bamboo straws that were made into branches and cut in tiny sharp formation of leaves. It had been painted dark green and soft, white cotton spores scattered on it resembling the snowflakes. The tree was ordained from little trinkets all around, some resembling the ornaments she was familiar with but made from painting wooden balls in various hues of reds and indigo. Strings of beads and tiny knitted red socks were hanging from branches, gifting life and even more colour to it. It was the most beautiful thing she’d seen.
In her admiration, she almost did not notice the painting on the side wall. It was unmistakably Santa but instead of riding in the snow, he was riding in the forests surrounded by teaks and bamboo and blooming cassia. The sledge was driven by sambars and nilgais- the animals native to the forest that had gradually started to become her home. She put her hand covering her mouth as she chuckled wetly, unaware of the tears that had begun to form in her eyes.
“Happy Christmas!” The familiar, deep baritone startled her. She turned around and crashed into Bheem with a force that sent him reeling a couple of steps back, her hands falling around his neck, her face buried in his chest. Bheem regained his balance in a second, his hands reflexively going around her waist to encompass her in his arms. The warmth of her, the scent of her enveloping him in a heavenly bubble.
It was a long time before they separated, Jenny reluctantly let him go, but not fully, still clasping his hands in hers. “Bheem!” she began, only to be interrupted by a sob, words lodged in her throat, her heart so full with love and admiration and happiness; she thought she would burst.
“What happened Jenny?” Bheem asked, worry lacing his eyes, his smile fading as he witnessed tears in her those light brown, gold speckled orbs. “I know this is not as grandiose or perfect or ornate as it should be. And perhaps not accurate at all. I just-”
He was cut off by a delicate palm against his lips. Jenny shook her head, composing herself, compelling her brain to sort out words for the normally the bravest idiot standing in front of her who was always unsure and apprehensive about himself when it came to them. “Bheem,” she took a deep breath, “This is the most beautiful Christmas tree I’ve seen in my life. I don’t care about opulence anymore, you should know that by now! This-” she pointed all around, “this gesture from you means more than all the comfort, all the parties to me.”
“Well, it was not all me. Lacchu and Ram and Malli and Loki were a huge help!” Bheem sheepishly added. “I couldn’t have done it without them!”
Jenny laughed, a pearly little sound that resonated deep within Bheem’s heart tugging at the strings in the most touching was possible. “Ok then! All of them. I love everything about this! The creativity, the innovation, the touch of your culture, your home.” She lowered her eyes, her hands playing with Bheem’s fingers as she demurely added. “Which has become a home to me too. And it is all because of you.” Her breath quivered as she uttered the final words that Bheem was gathering courage to voice for some weeks now. “I love you, Bheem.” Her hands slipped away from his, she took a step back as if giving him space, bracing herself for rejection.
She had not at all anticipated to confound him like this. Nonetheless, the words were always on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill out. This was the last thing she expected from him. She had told him all about home and London in one of their late night talks, the conversation inadvertently taking turn to festivals. She had gone on and on about Christmas, her favourite time of the year- the joyous spirit of it, the decorative rituals and the tales of her childhood. She could not believe that he remembered a random babble from months ago.
Memories rushed back on seeing all of this. She had come to live here, yes, but she also missed home, the festival, the food. Especially around this season. Not that she had disclosed it to anyone but one cannot just uproot their origins that easily. She had been feeling bouts of homesickness, sketching more and more paintings depicting snowy landscapes, scenes from nativity in her free time. It was a coping mechanism that helped. More than that, she kept herself insanely busy, encircled by the people she’d come to know and who had accepted her into their folds.
A warm breath fanned her cheeks as a finger curled under her chin, making her gaze directly into the brown, honey dipped supernovas that took her breath away each time with their infinite depths and unending intensity. Looking at them, she caught a glimpse of the raw emotions swimming in those orbs. She could clearly discern love, adoration, affection, and a hundred other emotions, and she knew it was the right choice that she’d made. Coming here, confessing, leaving everything behind on a whim was worth it. This wonderful, gorgeous human being in front of her loved her with the same ferocity, if not more. And with that last thought, she let herself relax.
“Jenny! I- I,” Bheem stuttered, his heart beating a mile a minute, his uneven breath, his eyes searching the depths of Jenny’s souls as if he would find the next words written there. “It’s okay.” She soothed him, “I know. Take your time.”
“No! I want to say it. I need to say it.”
She nodded. Waited with all the patience in the world for Bheem to assemble his thoughts, his words. She understood it was hard to let out those words for him as it was tough to keep them in for her. Bheem had always been a man of action after all.
“I never thought I would meet someone as beautiful and kind as you. Seeing you, interacting with you, I was always afraid initially. We were on opposite sides, in every sense of the word. You from a land far away, a princess who grew up in castles and me, a mere commoner, someone who is working to end the empire that was your home, a classic cliche of star-crossed love that has all the earmarks of a tragic ending. I was terrified the first time you set foot in the village, leaving everything behind and coming to stay here. I was afraid if you would be able to adjust, if the people would accept you, if I would be forced to choose between you and my people, my revolution. But the grace with which you handled the transition while I was a complete and utter mess, how could have not fallen for you? You left me no choice but to fall in love with you more and more with each passing day, each passing hour. I only hope I can be worthy of your love.”
Jenny hit him on his bicep at that. “You idiot! Come here!” She placed her palms on his jaw, closing the distance between them, capturing Bheem’s lips in a soft yet intimate kiss as one hand snaked around to the curls at the back of his head. A giddy feeling enveloped the man as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up a little, deepening the kiss by tilting his head.
They flung apart like live wires having the same charge at the sound of a clearing throat. Jenny was the darkest shade of crimson as she turned away from the entrance where Lacchu stood, a wide smirk on his face, eye dancing with mirth as Bheem snapped at him to hide his own embarrassment. Both wanted the earth to split and swallow them whole. “WHAT?” He growled, feigning all the irritation he could muster.
“Everyone is waiting with the sweets and gifts!” He reigned the laughter that was waiting to spill at his anna’s cost. It was sweet to see the always confident and courageous Bheem be a swiveling mess in front of Jenny. It was not a huge deal as Bheem was making it out to be, it was just a kiss for god’s sake, but the younger man would now not leave any chance to fluster Bheem. It was fun, just like the good old days.
“Oh, okay, you go we’ll follow!” Bheem had barely recovered, not wanting the others to wait. He had already hogged Jenny for too long. They had all the time in the world now.
“So, I assume she liked the gift?” Lacchu winked, grinning widely as Bheem slammed the door on his face, his face becoming hot all over again with Jenny splintering into a giggle beside him.
//
hope anyone who is still in the fandom and is reading it likes it.
#rrr#rrr fics#doodles fics#old posts#bheem rrr#jenny rrr#lacchu#lacchu rrr#rrr movie#rrr fanfic#fluff fluff fluff#one shot
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1-15 for the wip asks :)
this is like an entire school assignment, sorry it took so long <3
how many WIPS do you have right now?
too many.... i can't finish anything
2. what is your oldest WIP?
I have this goofy sequel I made to this one story i wrote in middle school and I have to finish it. For everything else, I can't finish anything, but for this WIP, I am required to!!
3. what is your newest WIP?
The last WIP i worked on was Cold, and it's my favourite of all of them. My favourite child without a doubt <3
4. Do you have any WIPs that will never be finished?
I never ever finish anything and I love it! Some things are meant to be small and unfinished thoughts, and I will do it again!
5. What scene did you write first in your current WIP?
The first part I wrote in Cold wasn't the beginning. Since the idea came to me in a dream, I wrote it in segments. So, I wrote the beginning like 6 months later.
6. How long do you tend to spend on your WIPs?
It's usually like two days or almost a year. No in between.
7. What's the longest time you've spent on a fic?
When I was writing I Saw Your Ghost Tonight, it took so damn long.... I started it in October '22 when I was working sound at a play and..... then I hated it after trying to work on it for long. So, it took even LONGER. I have a whole hate/love thing with it, more hate than love.
8. What's the fastest time you've finished a fic?
My last fic took me a little under three hours I think. There was something in the air that night.
9. Do you write your fics as you go, or finish before publishing?
I finish my fics before publishing. I didn't always used to do that, but it helps me commit to the fic. Otherwise, all my works will never be finished.
10. Do you outline a fic before you write it?
Sometimes I'll outline a fic, but I don't usually. If it's a little on the longer side, I might outline it. It just depends on what I'm writing about.
11. How close has your WIP stayed to its outline/original version?
I never finish an outline..... but usually it'll stay pretty close.
12. Do you have a title, working or otherwise, for your WIP? How did you come up with it?
My word docs are given a working title, and it's usually the first sentence so I know what it is. I don't typically give it a good title until I publish it.
13. What's been part of your WIP since the beginning? What the newest idea that you've added to it?
Well, in unnamed wip, I have this bitchy to lovers concept that I like, but I'm thinking of changing some parts of it. I need them to be bitchier and the catalyst needs to change, I'm not feeling it anymore.
14. Rewrite a scene from your WIP from another character's perspective.
Ben had fallen asleep on the couch, but when Riley or Abigail nudged him awake, he would say he was just shutting his eyes for a moment. The occasional snore told them otherwise. Sometimes, he’d snore loud enough he heard himself through his sleep. Tonight was no different than any other, Ben woke himself up with a snort. His eyes burned after hours of reading and researching, so he lay there with his eyes closed, listening to Riley and Abigail in the kitchen. Riley’s laptop was still on, he didn’t get up that long ago. The blue glow dried out Riley’s eyes like the dizzying blur of pages dried Ben’s.
“Howdy, stranger,” Riley’s voice crackled.
There were days when they were all so invested in their research that hours went by before they spoke to each other and discussed their findings.
“You should get some rest.” The soft wrinkling of Abigail’s gloves echoed in the silent apartment. “The both of you.”
“Don’t tell it to me,” Riley grumbled. “Tell it to Indiana Jones in there.”
Despite his snarky tone, Riley kept his voice low for Ben. Although, Ben wasn’t sure if Riley spoke quietly for Ben, or because he cranky enough to start talking shit.
15. Rewrite a scene from your WIP in a different person (first, second, third, etc.)
Although, you should think about getting a new couch. You kneaded the cushions with your palm before sitting down, but it never made the seats any softer. You glanced at the clock on the wall, far too late to be awake, but far too early for you to sleep. The ticking bounced off the bare walls and through the barren rooms. There were plenty of things you needed to do, but the very thought exhausted you in an instant. Ringing echoed from the kitchen, another phone you forgot to disconnect. Can't a man sit in his home and listen to the drone of the news in peace? Once you hoisted yourself onto the crutches, you made your way to the phone hanging on the wall.
thanks for the school assignment brother golfball
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alright, stats time. numbers! percentages! analysis!
GO ME! i finished my writing challenge last night. though i have done them before, i have never had a 30 day streak--my longest was 11 days, previously.
NANOWRIMO "GOAL": 50k words in a month. lol nope i didn't even plan to do that but that's the perspective i'm putting the post in
MY GOAL: add 30k to IBW.
fail. i added 5.2k to IBW in the end, the equivalent of finishing just one chapter. basically, I completed 17% of my goal. not something I'm happy about but i did inevitably mostly get past a thing that was giving me trouble.
MY SECOND GOAL: add 30k aggregated to any projects
total word count: 21,366. that's techinically a fail but i'm not gonna count it because i reached 70% of my target wordcount AND THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!! 70 is a passing grade afterall :] if we want to put this in perspective of nano, i basically completed 40% of nano, which is great for a first-ever run (especially since i have never completed a 50k fic so far, let alone in a month. baby steps for me, i just do not write that quickly.)
MY THIRD GOAL: write something every day
SUCCESS! i did do that and i am very proud of it. it was shockingly hard sometimes. during the challenge i was like "i am never doing this again" and now literally less than a day after im like "hm i should do this again next year!" why am i like this? who knows!
So, let's look at other stats.
Number of fics worked on: four. (IBW, grumbot fic mainly, hitchhiker's au, and tumble town gothic)
Fanfic started and completed within the month: do you see no ghosts in me at all? (13,651 words). This means that ~64% of my time was spent on this fanfic, compared to any others (if we go by word count, as i don't remember which days specifically were used on this versus the others)
Average daily wordcount: 712 words. again, to reach the 30k goal i needed roughly 1k on average per day, so this is again about 70% of that. It is worth noting that my average for my last writing challenge in the spring was 548, so I did much better on average this month despite being forced to do it in a much longer streak. that's probably because the 0 wordcount days in the last challenge dragged the average down, so writing every day helped me a lot.
Lowest daily WC: 131
Highest daily WC: 1897
i think both of those were the same fic actually (grumbot fic.) the low wordcounts mostly represented lack of time, as i would stop writing whenever it got so late that i started falling asleep midsentence. however low wordcounts on IBW mostly represent lack of inspiration, except for the day 30, where it represented research.
all in all, i think it was a successful challenge. i'm still in writing mode and was already thinking about what i could do tonight, which is great because like...i am no longer beholden to this challenge but am still wanting to keep going (i'll just likely not force myself to do anything anymore if it's like 11:30pm and i havent done anything. i will just go to bed instead.)
the main lesson here is that i can Do Things when i want to really force myself to do, which is good because i often doubt my own abilities especially in connection with my writing. it's very personal compared to other stuff i do, so i very much love and appreciate everybody's support and kind reviews because i straight up would not be here or doing any of this without you. like i would have just gone back to hide under a rock lol.
i feel like completing these challenges gives me a lot more confidence in myself and my abilities, and gives me momentum to make consistent progress on my works even when things are a little rough. sometimes in writing you just Gotta Do It even if there isnt much inspiration, because it'll unlock the way for other scenes where you DO have inspiration.
now then. if someone can tell me why i was able to fully complete inktober for two years in a row, and pull off two of these writing challenges in one year, but CAN'T stick with actual responsible adult habits--
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Ridonculous Race Season 2, Team: The Rivalry Twins
Okay, so it's been more than a month since I posted The Jocks' team info post but you'll ain't paying me to make this so... \/(-_-)\/
And, once again, swimsuit sketch-ies because I wanted to.
(Also, I tried a new way of rendering after hating the way I did it the first two times and kinda like it. Idk, I'm currently on one of my "art style journey" kicks so I can't guarantee all these '#TDRR Season 2' pics will look cohesive with one another.)
Notes on the Original and Modified Character Designs:
I'm head-cannoning them both at 5'4" because it just makes sense to me.
I think their hair is naturally blonde and not bleached (not important, just an idea I had.)
Okay, so as you can see, neither Sammy or Amy are wearing their "cheer" uniforms (more on why I say "cheer" in the next bulletin point) and that's because I think it's weird that they wear them in Pahkitew. That being said, I spent much more time on Sammy's outfit than I did with Amy's, and I'm at peace with that.
Back to the "cheer" thing, I re-watched TDPI and checked the Total Drama Fan Wiki and (to my knowledge) nowhere where Amy and Sammy explicitly said to be cheerleaders. And, honesty, it was the Go-Go Boots that tipped me off to making this discovery. From both personal experience and some research, high school cheerleaders don't wear those. But, do you know who does wear Go-Go Boots and look similar to cheerleaders? The marching band front line. So, despite me putting them in different outfits anyways, I'm gonna say they're in flag line and not cheerleaders.
Sammy-
Our girl on the right hand side (for both the team picture and swimsuit sketch-ies) aka, the little lady with the pony tale.
First and foremost, lets be clear, we love and respect Sammy on this blog and will not be personally referring to her as 'Samey". (She will be tagged as that and some characters will call her that in the fic, but she will not be referred to as 'Samey" outside of that context.)
I generally just wanted to make her look like a semi-outcaste and possibly Sapphic athletic girl. So, her outfit is pretty basic, it's just a white crop top with colored stripes on the sleeves, some high-waisted jean shorts, and red sneakers. And, yes, I know wearing a black sports bra under a white shirt is a bad idea but I really liked the aesthetic of it so some practicality went out the window. It's my redesign, I can put whatever clothes I want on her.
I decided to make their swimsuits almost identical (hardy-har-har, I know) the most important difference for Sammy's outfit being that the bikini bottoms are tied in bows on the side. (Because... she's the nice twin... get it... she's the sweet one so she has bows... I will not apologize for being a genius. /hj)
Amy-
If you didn't figure it out already, she's the one on the left (in both pictures) aka the one with her hair down.
I got rid of the mole because 1. I don't like it and 2. the blueberry thing was dumb and made me hate it more.
I was tempted to put Amy in a revised flag line uniform but four years of marching band has told me that she wouldn't be able to do that without getting seriously scolded. So, I just put her in an off the shoulder fitted red belly shirt and some black short-shorts. Definitely something that would get her sent home from school but I doubt Amy would care about that. I wanted to keep some semblance of her old design with the inclusion of the white pumps, and the necklaces are just there for fun. She's also wearing nylons because she's that kind of bitch.
Her bikini is a brighter, more obnoxious shade of red because she's the worst... enough said.
Team Dynamic and Background Information for Ridonculous Race Season 2:
It's been about a year since Pahkitew was recorded and the twins are now 17, going into their senior year of highschool. Life hasn't changed much since the show aired as their parents where already aware of Amy's toxic behavior and have done nothing about it. Sammy has invested most of her free-time into applying to whatever college gets her as far away from Amy as possible.
They're both come back with the intention of spending the money in regards to college, I'll be it in their own ways. Sammy wants to become a preschool teacher (again, it just feels right) and Amy wants to... not go to college and get a standard job. They come from an upper-middle class family but mommy and daddy have made it clear that they're not paying for their daughters' lifestyles after they graduate.
Their dynamic hasn't really changed much as Sammy has reverted back to coping with Amy's abuse by yielding to it (and therefore making herself less of a target.) However, the competition is going to strip Sammy of many of her "saving graces", those mostly being: alone time and contact with whatever allies she may have. Since she isn't going to have much of a break from her sister's constant bullying, it's only a matter of time until Sammy cracks under the pressure. At the same time, Amy isn't going to let Sammy quit or otherwise let Sammy hold her back from winning. Amy, despite her many faults, is a fierce competitor and above all, values being perceived as "the best".
(This ones for all of you who hated the fact that no-one, other than Jasmine, sided with Sammy, because so did I.) Anyways, as this is Ridonculous Race and not the normal Total Drama survivor inspired show, Don will obviously be hosting. And Don, unlike Chris, is a semi-rational human being with a working moral compass. So, if it's any consolation, Don will be calling Amy out for being a piece of shit to her sister (along with some other contestants). You're welcome.
Personal Life Head-Cannon Speed Round:
They are primarily of Dutch and Welsh decent.
Their parents got together when their mom was fresh out of highschool and their dad was entering the workforce after college. They married and had the girls relatively young, the father being a successful businessman and their mom acting as a house wife.
They go to a private all-girls Catholic school (not because their family is religious, but because it's a good school) and live in Victoria, Canada.
Sammy-
Full name is Samantha Lee Baker.
She's a lesbian (my source is literally "my brain said so" so take that as you will).
She is apart of her high school track-and-field and volleyball team, both of which she excels in far more than flag line.
Although she is not exactly popular, Sammy does maintain a social life with a small group of friends. I imagine them being fellow social rejects and closeted LGBTQ+ kids that all eat lunch in the bandroom together. Amy doesn't like when Sammy has sleepovers but thankfully she has that one no-nonsense friend that isn't afraid to tell Amy to "fuck off".
She doesn't actually have hard time making friends. What she really has a problem with is overthinking about whether people like her or not.
Amy-
Full name is Amanda Rose Baker.
She's flag line captain and takes a lot of pride in it (even though some favoritism was definitely at play. It's the kind of thing everyone knows about but are too scared to speak up on.)
She also does both volleyball and track-and-field with Sammy, but is reluctant to admit to the latter since her sister is better at it. (The two are pretty well matched in the case of volleyball.)
She doesn't actually know what she wants to do with her life and instead defaults to an arrogant "I'm going to do it all" attitude when questioned about it.
She also doesn't have much of a life outside of her extracurricular activities, which is one of the main reasons she takes soo much pride in being flag line captain. Her friendships are primarily shallow as she is abusive to people in general and (naturally) has a hard time maintaining relationships in which she has exposed her true nature.
I'm not giving her a head-cannoned sexuality because I don't like her and I don't care.
What's Next for Ridonculous Race Season 2?
I will be moving this summer, July 16th actually, and getting a full-time job so I am going to be busy. I will try my best to post these as regularly as I can but, as I said in my last TDRR Season 2 post, I am just one person and this project is pretty big. Please be patient with me.
The next team should seem a bit familiar, I have posted concept sketches of them before. One of them is a preexisting canon character but has never competed on TD and may be someone you are not expecting. Regardless, I hope you like them, I think they're going to be very fun to write. :)
If you have ANY suggestions or ideas for this project, please feel free to share them with me. I would love to hear them and if I do end up using you're concepts, I will credit you.
Thank you to the people who have supported this project so far, it means soo much to me! I hope you all have a lovely day!
~Nessa Rose~
#TDRR Season 2#td sammy#td samey#td amy#total drama#total drama ridonculous race#total drama pahkitew island#td#tdi#tdpi#tdrr#my art#headcannons#long post
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Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭
Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖
Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!
It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round!
Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!
Hange had been feeling unwell for days.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air.
She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.
It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.
Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.
Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.
Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her.
He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."
Hange only grumbled.
"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."
Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.
"Call tomorrow."
"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."
He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.
"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."
Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.
"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.
"Call them, Hange."
Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"I will."
**
Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.
How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable.
She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.”
The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.
The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner.
But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it?
She felt queasy the entire bus ride home.
It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family.
And god. Levi.
This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things.
What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child.
By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought.
The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating.
Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom.
Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her.
Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything.
The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out.
She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open.
“Hange?”
She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip.
“How was it?”
Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse.
Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face.
She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows.
“Oi, what’d they say?”
Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received.
“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully.
Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.”
Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside.
Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something.
After a moment, he spoke.
“That’s all?”
Huh? “Huh?!”
Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets.
“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”
“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.
“I can see that.”
“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?”
Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation.
“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.”
“That doesn’t terrify you?”
Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?”
“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?”
“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?”
Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting.
“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”
“You’re already hard work.”
Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said.
Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly.
“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?”
Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer.
“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”
Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.
“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?”
“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.”
“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?”
Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown.
“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap.
“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?”
Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw.
He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”
For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again.
“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.
“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.”
Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.”
Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm.
She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs.
“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.”
Levi quirked a brow at her.
“I’ve told you that before.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“I have. At your sisters wedding.”
Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own.
“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly.
Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say.
“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?”
“The hell else could I have meant?”
Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him.
“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!”
Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly.
This time, he didn’t fight his smile.
He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her.
She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another.
“What are you doing?”
Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.”
“Checking what?”
“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching.
“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.”
Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.”
Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make.
“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.”
The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp.
Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—
—Well, that was good enough.
#levihan#ask#my writing#this was fun!! thank you :D#hoping I can get around to the other prompts soon too!!
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I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx
a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)
summary: literally just birth + harry
dad!tom x reader
warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too
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“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”
That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable.
“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead, Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him.
Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom; but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently.
“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless.
The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube.
“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window.
“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary.
“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.”
The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation.
Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement.
What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling.
“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face.
“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too.
And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago.
“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?”
Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours.
“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.
“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to.
“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features.
Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical.
“You gonna tell me her name now?” You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans.
“Amber. She’s Amber.”
You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart.
The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin.
“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms.
“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response.
“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”
“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”
“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.
“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”
“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”
“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”
“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone.
“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear.
“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”
“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would.
“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them.
“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”
hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3
taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1
#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland fluff#Tom Holland blurb#dad!tom#tom holland imagine#harry holland
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What actually is LACE? (an informal essay)
What’s LACE?
Laws and Customs among the Eldar, or LACE, is the most popular section of the History of Middle Earth books. It's available online as a PDF here: http://faculty.smu.edu/bwheeler/tolkien/online_reader/T-LawsandCustoms.pdf . There’s a lot of LACE analysis in the fandom, Silmarillion smut fics are usually labeled “LACE compliant” or “not LACE compliant”, and I’ve been seeing the document itself show up in actual fics, meaning that the characters themselves are discussing it.
LACE is an unfinished, non-canonical essay split into several parts. It covers the sexuality of elves, which is mostly what people talk about. It also covers elvish naming (which I want to make a whole different post about), the speed at which elves grow up, changes that happen throughout their lives, their death and rebirth, and finally the legal and moral issues of Finwe remarrying after Miriel’s death. The discussion about rebirth conflicts with Tolkien’s later writings about Glorfindel’s re-embodiment, but to the best of my knowledge, LACE is the best or only source for most of the topics it covers.
However, LACE is not canon since it doesn’t show up in the Silmarillion. Counting all of the History of Middle Earth as canon is literally impossible, considering Tolkien contradicts himself all over the place. It is only useful because it has so much information that is never discussed in the actual canon. Many people consider it canon out of convenience.
Another important thing to remember is that, other than presumably the discussion of the growth of elvish children, the information is only supposed to apply to the Eldar (meaning the Vanyar, Noldor, Teleri, and Sindar) and not the dark-elves such as the Silvan elves and Avari.
The rest is behind the cut to avoid clogging your feeds.
Problems with LACE interpretations
But because it’s hidden in the History of Middle Earth (volume 10, Morgoth’s Ring), barely anyone actually gets the opportunity to read it. I don’t think most people are aware that you can get it online, so it doesn't get read much.
I feel like this leads to a handful of people saying something about LACE and everyone else going along with it. I definitely did this. I was amazed by all the things that were in the actual essay that nobody had ever told me about, or had told me incorrectly. For example, most people seem to believe that elves become married at the completion of sexual intercourse (whatever that means to the fic author). In fact, LACE explicitly says that elves must take an oath using the name of Eru in order to be legally married. Specifically:
It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete… [I]t was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, being both unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to another without ceremony or witness (save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name); and the union so joined was alike indissoluble.
I’ve seen a marriage oath being included in a few stories recently, but most writers leave out the oath entirely and just have sex be automatically equivalent to marriage. What would happen if elves had sex without swearing an oath? I don’t know, but I’d love to see it explored.
Then there’s a footnote that might explicitly deny the existence of transgender elves... or not, but I’ve literally only seen it mentioned once or twice. Overall, I feel like all of LACE is filtered through the handful of people who read it, and we’re missing out on a lot of metanalysis and interpretations that we could have because most fans never see the actual document.
Who wrote LACE?
I mean within the mythology of Middle Earth, of course. Since LACE appears in the History of Middle Earth and not the Silmarillion, we can be pretty sure that J.R.R. Tolkien himself wrote it and it wasn’t added to by Christopher Tolkien. But that’s not the question here. Remember that Tolkien’s frame narrative for all of his Middle Earth work is that he is a scholar of ancient times and is translating documents from Westron and Sindarin for modern audiences to read and understand. The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings come from the Red Book of Westmarch, and I believe The Silmarillion is meant to be Tolkien’s own writings based on his research (though it might also be an adaption of Bilbo’s “Translations from the Elvish”, but I haven't looked into that). So what does LACE come from?
Christopher Tolkien admits in his notes that he doesn’t know. He says, “It is clear in any case that this is presented as the work, not of one of the Eldar, but of a Man,” and I agree, because of the way it seems to be written as an ethnographic study rather than by someone who lives in the culture. Honestly, it talks too much about how elves are seen by Men (e.g. speculating that elf-children might look like the children of Men) to be written by an elf. This changes once it gets to the Doom of Finwe and Miriel, but that could be, and probably is, a story told to the writer by an elf who was there at the time.
Tolkien actually references Aelfwine in the second version of the text. The original story behind The Lost Tales, which was the abandoned first version of the Silmarillion, was that a man from the Viking period named Aelfwine/Eriol stumbled onto the Straight Road and found himself on Tol Eressea. He spoke to the elves and brought back their stories to England with him. So it makes a lot of sense that Aelfwine would also write about the lives and customs of the elves for an audience of his own people.
Does LACE exist in Middle Earth?
I keep finding fics where first age elves discuss “the Laws and Customs” openly, as if it’s a text in their own world. I usually get the impression that it was brought by the Noldor from Valinor. But did the document actually exist in that time period? For me, the answer is definitely not.
First of all, LACE was probably written by a Man, meaning it could not have dated back to Valinor in the years of the Trees, because Men hadn’t awaked yet. In fact, the closest thing to an established frame narrative for it is that it was written by Aelfwine, who comes from the time period around 1000 CE (though Tolkien doesn’t seem to have pinned him down). This is at least the fifth age, if not later.
But what if you don’t believe that it was written by a Man? It still couldn’t have been written in the First Age, because it discusses the way the relationship between elves’ bodies and souls changes as ages go by. For example:
As ages passed the dominance of their fear ever increased, ‘consuming’ their bodies... The end of this process is their ‘fading’, as Men have called it.
A lot of time has to go by in order for elves to get to the point of fading. As a bonus, here’s another reference to the perspective of Men. LACE also discusses the dangers that “houseless feas”, which are souls of elves who do not go to Mandos after their bodies died, pose to Men. How would they have known about that in the First Age? It further says that “more than one rebirth is seldom recorded” (which isn’t contradicted anywhere I know of), and that’s not something you would know during your life of joy in Valinor, where almost nobody dies. That’s something you learn after millennia of war. This has to be a document written well after the Silmarillion ends.
So what about the sex part? That’s all we care about, right? Well, it is entirely possible that this was written down by the elves and Aelfwine translated it (though my impression is that he mostly recorded stories told orally to him and that elves were not very much into writing, at least in Valinor where you could get stories directly from someone who experienced them). However, why would the elves write this down? They know how quickly their children grow up. They’ve seen actual marriages. They don’t need that described to them. And if they did have a specific document or story explaining the expectations of them when it comes to sex and marriage, why would they call it “Laws and Customs”? That’s a very strange name for a set of rules for conduct. I’m sure they had a list of laws written out somewhere in great detail, like our own state or national laws (that seems very in character for the Noldor, at least). But I seriously doubt that those laws are what we’ve been given to read. LACE is not an elvish or Valinoran document.
Is LACE prescriptive or descriptive?
Here’s the other big question I’m interested in. Prescriptive means that the document describes the way people should behave. Descriptive means that it describes how people do behave. And the more I worldbuild for Middle Earth and the culture of elves, the more I want to say that LACE is prescriptive in its discussion of sex, marriage, and gender roles.
But wait. I’ve been saying for paragraphs that I think LACE is Aelfwine or another Man’s ethnographic study of elvish culture. Then it has to be descriptive, right?
Does it? How long do we think Aelfwine stayed with the elves? Did he wait fifty years to see a child grow up? Did he get to witness a wedding ceremony? Did he meet houseless fea? I don’t think he could have done all of that. Maybe a different Man who spent his entire life with the elves could, but then when was this written? When the elves were still marrying and having children in Middle Earth or when so much time had gone by that they had begun to fade already?
Whoever wrote this was told a lot of information by elves instead of experiencing it firsthand, the same way he heard the stories from the First Age from the elves instead of being there. Maybe it was one elf who talked to him, maybe several different ones. But did those elves accurately describe their society the way it was, give him the easiest description, or explain the way it was supposed to be? If I was describing modern-day America, would I discuss premarital sex or just our dating and marriage customs? Maybe people would come away from a talk with me thinking that moving in together equated to marriage for Americans in the early 21st century. And I don’t even have an agenda to show America in a certain way, I'm just bad at explaining. Did the elves talking to what may have been the first Man they had seen in millennia have an agenda in the way they presented themselves?
Or did the writer himself have an agenda? Imagine going to see these beautiful, mythical, perfect beings, and you find out that they behave in the same immoral ways Men do. Do you want to share the truth back home? Or do you leave out things that don't match your worldview? Did Aelfwine come back wanting to tell people what elves were really like? Or did he want to say “this is how you can be holy and perfect like an elf”?
Anyone studying the Age of Exploration will tell you that Europeans neber wrote about new cultures objectively, and often things were made up to fit the writer’s idea of what savages looked like. For example, my Native American history teacher in college told a story of how explorers described one tribe who (sensibly) didn't wear clothes as cannibals, because cannibalism and going around naked went together in their minds and not because of any actual incident. Unbiased scholarship barely existed yet. Even Tolkien was extremely biased and tended to be imperialistic, as we all know. There’s absolutely no reason to think that Aelfwine wasn’t biased in his own way. (Of course, now we have to consider what biases a Danish or English man from the centuries around 1000 would have when it comes to things like gender roles. I assume he would have been more into divorce and female warriors than the elves are said to be.)
But is that what Tolkien intended? Probably not. He probably wanted LACE to be descriptive. But he also never got much of a chance to analyse the essay after the fact, which might have led to him discussing its accuracy and even the exact issues I just pointed out about explorers. Anyway, we know he's biased, and honestly, what he intended has never slowed down the fandom before.
Conclusion
In short, I take LACE to be a prescriptive document describing the way elvish culture is supposed to be, not a blueprint I have to stick to in order to correctly portray elves. I also don’t believe the document that’s available for us to read existed even in the early Fourth Age, where The Lord of the Rings leaves off. There maybe have been some document outlining the moral behavior of elves, as a set of laws, but thats not the Laws and Customs we have.
Of course, canon is up to you to interpret. If you want Feanor discussing LACE with someone back in Valinor, go ahead. If you want to throw out LACE entirely, go ahead. It’s not even a canonical essay. All of this analysis is honestly useless when you consider the fact that no part of LACE exists in any canonical book.
But that’s Tolkien analysis for you.
#lotr#silmarillion#tolkien#laws and customs of the eldar#history of middle earth#silm#analysis#meta#headcanon#long post#mine
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UTNL is COMPLETE!!
SO MANY thoughts and feelings about finally completing Under the Northern Lights under the cut!
This is going to be ridiculously long, and sappy, and extra (shocker, I know). I don’t actually expect anyone to read all of this, but I had to get out all of my feelings somewhere.
I can’t believe I can finally mark this fic as ‘Complete,’ almost a full year after I first had the idea pop into my mind. This story was a first for me in a lot of ways. My first multi-chapter, first AU, first to reach the length of a novel. It’s weird because I feel like a lot of the time, the first works you create when new to a particular medium are ones that you end up looking back on with a bit of cringe later on when you’ve had much more practice with said medium.
But I don’t think I’ll ever write another story that means as much to me as this one does.
I hadn’t written creatively (besides back in grade school) or published fanfiction until November 2020, only about 4 months before I published the first chapter of UTNL. Because I could tell that this story was going to extra special to me, I debated waiting to share it until I had more experience with writing, but I’m glad I didn’t let that hold me back.
There are certainly some things, especially in the early chapters, that I already look back on and cringe over a little (which I will be working on touching up over the next couple months). But overall, I think of this story as my “masterpiece” so to speak, and feel like it always will hold a special place in my heart. I honestly don’t think it’s possible for me to pour any more love, dedication and obsession into a story as I did for this one.
I thought about this version of Inuyasha and Kagome SO much that it is probably unhealthy. I spent countless hours researching, plotting, and putting myself in their shoes when writing each line. I felt the emotions in this story as if they were my own, trying to make it as authentic as possible while staying true to the essence of the characters.
But for as proud as I am of this story, I’ve also had SO much self doubt. I tend to get in my own head a lot, and am insanely self-critical on top of my unparalleled ability to overthink EVERYTHING. Honestly, there were a lot of times when working on this story almost felt like torture, despite how much I truly love it, just because of how neurotic I tend to get when putting my creative work out there.
The comments and general outpouring of love helped get me through that more than I can say, and there aren’t enough ways for me to say THANK YOU to everyone who ever even gave this story a chance. I have been floored by some of the comments I’ve received, and feel incredibly lucky that this story managed to connect with others.
But of course, I can’t talk about UTNL without dedicating at least a full paragraph to Jane ( @goshinote ). When I say that this story wouldn’t be what it is without her, I truly mean that. We had only been talking for a little less than two months when I first pitched her the idea of UTNL, and she immediately became its biggest fan. From helping me brainstorm plot ideas (and directly suggesting all kinds of things that became part of the final story), to reading over every single chapter multiple times and leaving the best comments/screams on Google docs, to listening to every single song on the UTNL playlists and telling me her thoughts on each one, to just generally showing interest and encouraging me every few days during the entire time that I was writing it.
I will admit that I am a needy ho who needs all kinds of reassurance and praise to prevent myself from falling into a spiral of self-doubt and anxiety, and Jane was like the constant cheerleader I needed to actually get this monster of a story out into the world. Our friendship grew along with the story, and now I can honestly say that she is one of my best friends, including my “in real life” friends.
So thank you times infinity, Jane, for all of your love and support and encouragement, and for being such an amazing friend. This story is dedicated to you for a reason ❤️🖤
Now, back to the writing itself...
I never thought that I would write a 200k word novel when I started writing fanfiction. My first several stories were all canon-based one shots. I remember reading fics over 100k for the first time shortly before starting UTNL, and being in total awe that someone could write a fic that was as long and intricate as novels such as the Harry Potter books. Like…what???
And then the fact that I ended up writing a story longer than The Fellowship of the Ring (which is just under 188k) is just…….what even??? How??!?
I am genuinely so proud of this accomplishment, no matter how many things I know I could have done better etc.
2021 wasn’t a great year. Like many others, I’ve been struggling quite a bit with my mental health throughout this pandemic, and depression has really been kicking my ass for the last couple of years in a way that I’ve never dealt with before (my previous mental health struggles were all with severe anxiety, not so much depression). So writing UTNL has also been kind of a saving grace for me, giving me an outlet to focus my creative energy into, and something to be excited about when everything else felt so overwhelmingly shitty.
But of course, the core motivation behind this story is my undying love for InuKag as a ship. I’ve never loved another fictional couple as deeply as I love them, and that’s saying something, considering I’ve been totally balls deep into other ships/fandoms before. The layers of trust and love and intimacy and even sexual tension that RT managed to create between these two characters is something I could explore endlessly, and will continue to explore in my writing in the future.
With UTNL, I wanted to write a story that covered ALL of the bases. Starting with the intense chemistry and sexual tension between them, because I am a totally shameless heathen at this point. Half of the chapters of UTNL have explicit sexual content, and I have to say that I had a lot of fun writing all of it 😏. But possibly even more fun, was building up all of that tension before anything even happened, making it almost unbearable so that the moment they finally got to act on it would feel that much more intense (hence the explosion metaphor...and the boom).
But probably an even more important element that I had in mind from the beginning is the angst. My favorite type of angst is the bittersweet type: the gut-wrenching ache that comes with loving someone and losing them, letting them go because you know you have to, even though it shatters your heart into a million pieces. That was central to the entire idea of the story, where I wanted to create a finite timeline from the get go. The challenge was getting them close enough during that one month together for them to fall in love so deeply that it would be heartbreaking and devastating to let each other go. Chapter 13 (The Last Time) will always be my favorite chapter, and my favorite thing I’ve ever written, for that reason.
But lastly, it’s really all comes down to the love. For a good portion of the story, it’s mainly about the attraction and the amazing sex. But once the romance sets in, I wanted it to run deep. By the end, I wanted to really capture that all-consuming, born-for-each-other type of love that InuKag shares, just in a modern setting. And that’s why the epilogue is my other favorite chapter, as far as content goes.
It was fun to play around with this version of Inuyasha and Kagome, where Inuyasha is about twice the age (mentally) of his canon self, and was raised by his mother, making him a little bit softer and more emotionally mature than he is in canon. Kagome has the same kindness and stubbornness, with a little extra ambition and creativity and wittiness thrown in, just for fun.
Honestly...I could probably write another small novel about my process of writing UTNL, along with how much thought went into every word, all of the scenes I imagined in my head, how my own background in photography informed many parts of the story, etc...but I have to stop rambling at some point...so I guess I will cut myself off here.
All I can say at this point is that it has been an honor to share this story that means so so much to me, and to receive so much love and positive feedback in return. So many comments I’ve received have just blown me away, left me speechless or in tears because of how much others loved this story the way I do. So thank you all from the bottom of my heart, for your support and love, even if you haven’t read the story, or it wasn’t your thing. I’m just so happy that Under the Northern Lights made even one other person feel something in the way I intended.
Now excuse me while I go cry...and then finally relax. I will be taking a small semi-hiatus from writing for a few weeks or so, mostly so that I can focus on catching up with all of the reading I’ve been ignoring in favor of writing this. But I’ll definitely be back at it sooner rather than later, because I have several stories I’ve been dying to share!
If you’ve actually read this far, holy shit I’m sorry for rambling so much, but also kudos to you and thank you thank you thank you times a million.
I’m so happy I found this fandom, and the outlet of writing.
LOVE YOU ALL ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
#im posting this first so that I can link to it on AO3#this is absurdly long#like seriously i dont expect anyone to actually read this#I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS OKAY#this doesnt contain and major spoilers for UTNL really#minus some vague references that you wont get if you havent read it#but i dont discuss anything about the epilogue#ANYWHO TIME TO GO CRY
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Ethan & Tiffany: Endgame (HC)
A quick reminder: I've rejected canon Third Year completely, so mind that none of OHTY bs happens in my E&T canon timeline.
A/N: I tried my best to write every major fact down - hopefully the final product isn’t too messy or too boring, I’m new to the headcanon business and this isn’t even written in the headcanon form because I’m a rebel lol
Huge thanks to the lovely Anon who requested this HC and every single one of you still interested in E&T’s shenanigans, your support is the greatest gift I could ever receive! If you have some more specific questions about these two, feel free to hit my askbox anytime 💕
Now let’s check what’s in store for Tiffany and Ethan!
Children
Neither of them planned children in their lives; they were perfectly comfortable in the relationship they had—living together, advancing their glittering careers while supporting each other, slaying the game as the ultimate power couple.
But life has its ways, of course, and a week prior to their third anniversary Tiffany found out she was pregnant. The news sparked blind panic in the 30-year-old doctor; she thought her whole world fell like dominoes. Tiffany wouldn't intentionally start a family: she'd just started turning her dreams and plans into reality and she didn't even consider herself fit to be a mother (even though deep down she craved it).
She'd spent an entire week full of doubts, listing all her options, before she finally shared the news with Ethan. His reaction was surprisingly calm, considering his stance on having children. Based on the evidence gathered throughout the week, he'd already suspected pregnancy and did some calculations on his own.
They both agreed it wasn’t the best time—their busy schedules didn’t allow them to even reconsider the concept of starting a family. Nevertheless, the baby was coming, and their hearts filled with strange excitement. Having a baby on board seemed surreal at first, but after the dust had settled they felt oddly content about the unforseen circumstances.
E&T's world turned upside down the second their son was born. Raising a child happened to be the greatest challenge these two brilliant doctors had encountered. Luckily, they both relish a good challenge. Guided by the unexpected overflow of affection, they quickly settled into the alien routine of parenthood.
Nathaniel Jonah (also known as NJ, Nate) turned out to be a perfect blend of his parents' most prominent features & traits: Ethan's ocean eyes and stubbornness mixed with Tiffany's smile and warm heart.
Three years later, another surprise awaited. The most shocking thing about the second pregnancy was that it didn't happen sooner (they'd been exceptionally careless). Nicolette „Letty”, a spitting image of her mother, stole Ethan's heart from the start, bringing even more joy to their controlled chaos.
The fancy condo was too small for a family of four, so The Ramdams were forced to find a new home. They moved to a dreamy house in the Boston suburbs merely a month before their daughter was born.
The third one (for a change) received a proper invitation to this world. Tiffany wasn't the biggest fan of the idea of having another baby, but her window was closing (she was 38) and Ethan's palpable excitement tipped the scales. Everyone jokes Aine must be adopted because she's the most unproblematic angel, unlike her parents.
The family wouldn't be full without pets: Nettie (British Shorthair cat) & Hopper (English bulldog).
Marriage
Marriage was never on their agenda. Neither of them felt the need to make their relationship formal, it wouldn't change anything between them—they were already acting like a married couple. Both Tiffany and Ethan think there are more valuable symbols of love than some paper signed in the presence of everyone they know. Partnership they were in seemed like the most comfortable and obvious choice.
The topic resurfaced with the pregnancy news. Our good guy Ethan, our Mr Must-Do-What’s-Right, proposed to Tiffany on their third anniversary dinner, right after they discovered they were expecting. He did it because it made sense. Because it was convenient. Because it was a decent thing to do.
But guess what...Tiffany rejected the proposal. She didn’t want to marry out of obligation. If they were really going to jump into marriage, she wanted it to matter. Ethan understood her point of view, though it didn't stop him from jokingly annoying her on every given occasion that she rejected him.
He waited two years before popping the question again. This time she said yes.
Dr. Grumpsey was willing to agree on a lavish wedding if Tiffany would insist. Lucky for him, his woman hates big, conventional weddings and all that unnecessary attention around the reception. They're both very private people, so they planned the wedding they were actually excited about.
They eloped to Miami where it all started, exchanging vows to the accompaniment of the ocean waves, with little NJ by their side. The wedding reception was just three people enjoying their day at the beach.
As you may suspect, their friends and family flew into a rage when they found out the wedding took place behind their backs. Jackie's death threats were particularly disturbing, so E&T decided to throw an afterparty for their loved ones only.
Career
Tiffany saw her future in diagnostics and followed that path, balancing her personal goals with striving for improvement in patient care. The word about her accomplishments with one of the best diagnostics teams spread fast; shortly after her challenging yet successful residency, Doctor Addams quickly proved to be one of the most valuable and respected diagnosticians—not only at Edenbrook, but also statewide, and later nationwide. She cracked some of the toughest, most hopeless cases, saving lives of many patients considered lost causes.
During her first pregnancy, her career was already on high speed and the situation made her even more determined to keep it that way. She didn't want to sacrifice her newly established position and Ethan did everything he could to support her and her career development.
She remained a vital part of Edenbrook's Diagnostics Team under Ethan's leadership for a few years. Their minds combined gave spectacular results and above it all they truly enjoyed working together. However, when Letty was born sharing responsibilities at home and managing the time got significantly harder. With minimal hesitation, Ethan decided it was his cue to leave.
He'd been thinking about the change for much longer than he was willing to admit: over the years he'd accomplished everything he could dream of and Edenbrook had become more of a duty than a challenge. So he quit, leaving the team in the most capable hands of Doctor Addams-Ramsey.
For a year and a half The Ethan Ramsey was a stay-at-home dad, juggling family, research for his second book and setting up his clinic with none other than Tobias Carrick.
Ethan wasn't 100% convinced if starting the practice with Tobias would be a wise move, but the clinic exceeded his expectations. Apart from the great sense of accomplishment, he finally gained full independence at work. And there were no bloody interns to babysit anymore.
When little Ramdams got older, he approached Tiffany with a job offer; the best diagnostician in the country was the last missing link in his clinic. She let it marinate for a few years and accepted the offer at the launch of her second book, soon after Letty's 18th birthday.
____
If there’s a typo or a mistake somewhere...No, there isn’t kgjdkgjdk
Thanks for reading 🥰 I have a few exciting fics in the making (both AUs & canon) and I hope I’ll be able to finish them soon!
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WayV Reaction: finding out their S/O has Borderline Personality Disorder
Pairing(s): WayV x Reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mention of mental health, depression, anxiety, symptom's included in BPD. Trigger Warnings: depression, anxiety, hostility, mention's of self-harm, self-doubt, low self-image Word Count: 3.9k
Author's Notes: I'll be honest and say that I had to research Borderline Personality Disorder. I knew what it was/had heard of it before, but in order to write something accurate, I tried to educate myself. If you believe that you have BPD, please don't be afraid to go to a doctor or a trusted friend/family member. Your mental health is important.
Author's Note 2.0: I also want to mention that (as per earlier request), I am also working on a YangYang fic that features a reader with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm not entirely sure when it will be posted (soon hopefully), but it is in my WIP's.
Author's Note 2.0: Kun's is a little different, I apologize for the difference and the shortness. Tagging:@treasuretaeil
Kun:
Kun was in the middle of dance practice when his phone began to ring. At first, he let it go to voicemail, but by the third ring, Ten paused the music and Kun grabbed his phone out of his coat pocket, expecting to see your name popping up on the screen. You were at home today after a particularly rough week at work that had left you feeling spent. Kun longed to be home with you, holding you tight in his embrace. As his eyes met your next door neighbor's name on his phone screen, his stomach dropped. Mrs. Huang only called when it was really serious. "Hello?" he asked into the receiver. "Oh thank goodness!" she cried, voice laced with anxiety enducing agitation. "What's wrong?" "It's (y/n)! They've brought me five big tins of muffins! I can't possibly eat all of these! And they've gone to the store twice with ingredients! I think something's wrong! Kun sighed. This morning, you had been so happy. You were practically singing to the birds. He knew it wouldn't last though, especially with the week you'd had. "I'll be there soon!" Kun left practice without another word and when he got home, he found you in the kitchen, covered in flour, vigorously mixing a creamy liquid in one of your metal mixing bowls. The kitchen was covered in ingredients; flour puffed on the counters and floor, broken egg shells on the table, a half empty measuring cup of milk teetering on top of the fridge. It was bad this time. Kun knew you had borderline personality disorder. It had been something you'd told him in the beginnings of your relationship. He had seen you at your worst, and at your best, but it still broke his heart every time he witnessed you at a breaking point. "(y/n)?" You paused in your vigorous mixing, eyes glancing up to meet his. He didn't say anything, eyes locked on yours, but his eyes held no pity. Instead, they held pure, unfiltered love that had you putting the whisk aside. "Do you love me?" you whispered. A small wisp of a smile reflected across his face as he crossed the room, arms wrapping around your body. "More than anything," he whispered.
Ten:
You and Ten had only been together for a short amount of time; three months to be exact. It was an exhilarating three months. Time you wouldn't give for anything in the world, even though you didn't get to see each other often with Ten's very busy schedule. However, after the "Kick Back" album released, WayV was allowed to take a break as SM turned their attention to the scheduled release of NCT Dream's first album. Normally, Ten would then be whisked away for some SuperM promotion, but with Baekhyun's enlistment, SuperM was also allowed to take a break as the company decided what to do. Which ultimately meant you got to spend more time with your boyfriend, which, most would deem as a good thing and, you were happy he was there, however, it became a lot harder to hide your little secret from him. Your best friend, Kun, had introduced you to Ten (and the rest of the members), when Kun officially became a member of NCT. Kun and Ten had immediately hit it off as friends, which meant you also spent a lot of time with Ten, thus leading to a blossoming friendship and later attraction. So Ten lying in your bed snoring softly wasn't that far of a stretch from a common day encounter. The difference was, today, you didn't feel like yourself. Being in a friendship with Ten meant that, yes, you saw him often, but not often enough that you couldn't keep parts of yourself private. Which is exactly what you did, especially as your tiny crush on Ten grew into something mutual, eventually leading to a relationship. The truth you were so afraid of revealing was your disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. A disorder you'd been diagnosed with since you were a your teenager. You'd been teased and bullied for it when a classmate you'd once called a friend announced your disorder to the entire school. This, in turn, had terrified you of ever telling anyone, which you had gotten away with. Ten didn't know and, if you had it your way, he'd never know. He was an idol. What did he need with a girlfriend with this disorder. However, with him hanging around a lot... "Hey? What's wrong?" Ten's voice snapped you from your thoughts. You'd been so distracted you hadn't realized his soft snoring had ceased. "Nothing," you said softly. His lips pursed, perplexed as he softly reached a hand up to brush across your cheek, something he'd done several times. But today, you didn't want it. You shied away from his hand, curling yourself up on the opposite side of the bed, cursing yourself for acting different than usual, but you couldn't help it. Ten didn't bat an eye. He simply gave you a soft smile and sat up in the large bed, but he didn't try to touch you again. "Feeling sad today?" he asked. You nodded meekly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. You paused for a moment to think it over. You truly didn't. You wished you could keep it a secret forever, because Ten might leave you. But you also knew that the stress was taking it's toll on you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." you whispered. He didn't say anything at first and you were preparing yourself for him to call you a freak and leave. Instead, he stretched his arm out and softly wrapped his pinky around yours. "I don't know much about it. But I promise I will learn," he whispered. Tears brimmed your eyes because finally, someone wasn't going to leave you.
WinWin:
You had never been much of a touchy person. Holding hands was one thing, and even then, something you weren't wholly comfortable with, but hugging was completely different. You didn't care much for hugs, especially from complete strangers that often found you rude for rejecting their hug. You barely even hugged your own family, let alone a total stranger. This was possibly what spurred on your relationship with Sicheng who, also didn't care much for physical affection, despite the fact the other members of NCT practically drowned him in it. Your relationship was just... different. At least in the minds of society because you didn't cuddle against Sicheng's chest constantly or plop down on his lap just because he was sitting down. Instead, you preferred wrapping your pinky around his or draping one of his sweaters over your shoulders. This worked for the two of you though others found it strange. However, there was an anomaly that Sicheng, though you had been together for a little over two years, had no idea about. This anomaly included the fact that sometimes, you liked hugs. Sometimes, all you wanted to do was drape yourself over your boyfriends lap and let him hold you until your mind screamed at you for the overload of affection. Sometimes you wanted him to wrap his arms around you in bed and fall asleep with you on his chest. That's what happens when you have Borderline Personality Disorder, and it wouldn't have been that big of a deal if Sicheng had known, but he didn't. It started out you longing to keep it a secret in the early days of your relationship. It wasn't something you advertised very often. However, as your relationship progressed, you knew you should have told him, but as five months turned into six, it became a crushing weight of guilt for not telling him in the beginning. Sicheng had already invested a lot of time and love in the relationship when you had not been wholly honest with him. And the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to get the words out. At this point, it wasn't even your fear of rejection because of the disorder, it was a nagging fear that your dishonesty about the disorder would drive him away from you. That would truly be a crushing point. However, as Sicheng began spending more nights at your apartment, it was getting increasingly harder to hide, especially as your mood dropped or when you suddenly began to crave affection. Times like today. The moment you'd rolled out of bed, you knew you needed some type of affection, but as Sicheng made no advance to give it to you throughout the day, your mood dropped. It really wasn't his fault. He had no idea how you were feeling, but as you finally had had enough and wrapped your arms around him from behind while he was washing the dishes after dinner, you felt him stiffen before grabbing a towel to dry his hands. "What's up with you today?" The question was an honest one, but it still felt as though you were making him uncomfortable by touching him. As your arms slacked from around him, a tear sprang to your eye but you were quick to wipe it away as he turned to face you. "I need to tell you something..." Your voice was wavering. You had no idea how he would respond. He nodded for you to continue, one of his hands gently taking hold of yours, playing with your fingers as a soft sense of relief washed through you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder." His once blank face morphed into one of confusion. "What's that?" he asked tentatively. You sighed. You had been expecting the question but that didn't make it any easier to define. "Its like having mood swings. One day I feel happy the other sad... Sometimes anti-hugs, sometimes super affectionate." You could tell he was still confused, but as he nodded and wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you against his tall frame, you let out a shuddered breath, body relaxing against him.
Lucas:
Books were never Yukhei's strong suit. He preferred numbers and basic information plotted out clearly in front of him. Books were too all over the place with too much information. He wished they could be like websites that gave him the briefest of explanations with a "read more" feature. Yet here he was, flipping through slightly crinkled pages because he wanted to truly understand, and books were always credited with having the most information. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder," you had explained earlier that day when you had ducked out of the way of one of his mega bear hugs and proceeded to slump your shoulders and beg him to give you time alone. You'd locked yourself in your shared bedroom after that and, although you had texted him to apologize for your behavior, you added that today was just an off day, your disorder really affecting your mood. "Well how can I help?" he had asked. It was your response that prompted him here, pouring over books in the local library hoping to find anything that would help him understand Borderline Personality Disorder in the best way possible. As he flipped through pages and learned, he had begun to feel several different emotions. On one end, he felt sorry that you'd had to go through the disorder alone, but on the other, he questioned why you'd never told him, even after a year of being together. However, a big part of him wondered if maybe you had been telling him, just without words, especially because you'd never tried to hide any of your mood swings. He'd just always assumed you were on your period. As the hours ticked away, Yukhei's eyes remained glued to the startlingly dry books stacked up around him, but as he learned more about the disorder and, by default, more about you, he couldn't seem to stop. At least not until his phone vibrated in his pocket and, as he fished it out, your smiling face met his eyes. He answered the facetime request and gave you a tired smile that quickly morphed into concern when he noticed your bloodshot eyes. "Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" "My boyfriend left me! That's what happened!" Were you... pouting? "I didn't leave baby, I'm at the library." Confusion flashed across your face. "Why?" "To learn more about Borderline Personality Disorder." A giggle erupted from your lips and Yukhei sure was glad to hear it, especially after reading texts about BPD leading to depression. "Why didn't you just google it?" His mouth gaped open as he dramatically clutched his chest. "Googling something so important in my significant other's life?! That's scandalous! I should do enough research to write my own 20-page essay!" This time, it was a full blown laugh. "You're a dork!" "I'm your dork!" "Well come home, dork! There's a lot we have to discuss!" Your smiling face alleviated any fears that may have been swirling around Yukhei's chest. With a nod, he slammed a book shut so hard it send a loud, slamming bang throughout the library, prompting nasty looks sent his way. Sheepishly, he waved them off and stood up. "I'll be home soon," he promised, blowing you a kiss before hanging up. Yukhei had taken the hastily thrown news a lot better than you'd expected. You knew he couldn't have learned everything, specifically because it varied person to person, but you knew that he would be there for you, even on your bad days. And that was all you could ask for.
Xiaojun:
Dejun was incredibly perceptive, even if he was incredibly dumb sometimes. He could tell when you weren't quite feeling yourself, even though he often didn't know what was causing it. It was at those times that he did everything he could to put a smile back on your face and make you feel "normal" again. He didn't understand how counter productive that actually was. It was really your fault. You were the one keeping secrets, but as the smile fell from your face the second Dejun traded the couch for the shower, you couldn't help but think that maybe he simply preferred you to be happy rather than deal with you when you weren't. Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew he was just doing what he thought would help, but now, especially in your state of mind, you couldn't shake the aching feeling in your head. "Hey, are there towels- are you crying?" Dejun's voice yanked you out of your thoughts and you brought your hands to your cheeks, rapidly trying to wipe away the clear droplets painting your face, but it was too late. Dejun had already seen. He was shirtless when he perched on the couch beside you, face etched in concern. He opened his mouth, likely to retort off some lame dad joke or tell you some funny story you'd heard a thousand times. "Can you not?" You hadn't meant to snap. The words had simply flown out before you'd had the chance to them. His face fell into a pout that you knew you often fell for, but today, it only upset you more. "Stop Dejun!" The pout fell away. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything!" "You're trying to make me smile!" He blinked, staring at you for a moment. "That's a bad thing?!" You sighed, slumping against the couch cushions, resigning yourself to the fact that he didn't understand. Then again, you didn't let him understand. "Just tell me why I'm upsetting you," he begged, all traces of bad humor gone, replaced with sincerity. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder! My mood fluctuates! And when you try to make me smile when I'm sad or mad makes me feel like you don't like me when I'm not always happy. But I can't always be happy." He stared at you in shock for a moment, mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know how to respond. An appropriate response, you supposed. You'd been friends for a while now and dating for several months, yet this was the first time you'd told him. You were about to get up from the couch, sighing as he didn't respond after several minutes, when he placed a hand on your thigh to stop you. "Why didn't you tell me?" You shrugged. It wasn't that simple. "Can you tell me the best ways to comfort you?" Again, you shrugged. A sigh released from his mouth and your head hung low. "I'm going to do some research. As your boyfriend, I want to make sure I'm making you feel better, not worse. So, while I'm doing that, I also need you to tell me if something I'm doing is making you feel worse. Can you do that for me?" His words were sincere, his intentions true. Another tear fell from your eye, dropping against your cheek, but a smile broke out across your face. "Thank you for caring," you whispered. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Always."
Hendery:
Waking up this morning had been such a struggle, even as the delightful scent of your boyfriends cooking wafted under the cracks of the door, greeting you. Usually, this would rouse you from your slumber, prompting you to creep into the kitchen and sneak a taste of the delightful breakfast. Today, however, you rolled over in the blankets and pulled the duvet over your head. Today was a lay in bed day, you just hoped your boyfriend would accept that. "Come on sleepy head! It's time to wake up!" Kunhang's annoyingly chipper voice spouted, pulling you from the confines of sleep in a less pleasant way. "No," you groaned, rolling over, burying your face deeper into the pillow. "Come on! Breakfast is ready!" He pulled the blankets off your body and you let out a loud hiss, eyes turning to bore into him. "I said no!" He dropped the blanket and backed off, lifting his hands in surrender, but you could tell he had questions. You never acted like this. "What's wrong?" You grunted, not responding, turning away from him, but he wasn't having it. "Yah! I asked you a question!" he pouted at being ignored. A growl whipped it's way from your throat. "Go look up BPD," you snapped. You could tell that he had more questions, but, after a long moment, he seemed to think better of asking them and, instead, made his way out of the room, leaving you to fall back asleep. It had to have been a few hours later when you were waking up on your own this time, the anger you had felt earlier completely gone now, replaced with your normal, chipper self. You turned over to look at Kunhang's side, releasing he wasn't there and the memories came flooding back to you along with a strong wave of guilt. You shouldn't have treated Kunhang the way you did. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the way he'd reacted to your sleeping for. With a sigh, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, padding over the floors to the door. You made your way out of the bedroom and down the hall, finding Kunhang sitting on the couch, television with the volume turned down, playing some movie he didn't look too interested in. As the floor creaked slightly under your feet, his attention shifted from the television to you and he was quick to shut off the device. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Had you really affected him? "I'm sorry for how I reacted..." you mumbled. A sigh rolled past his lips as he patted the couch next to him. You made your way to him, flopping beside him, but keeping your distance, at least until he pulled you against his side. "I understand why you did after looking up Borderinel Personality Disorder," he said. "But you couldn't have expected me to know without knowing." With a nod, you hung your head. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I thought you wouldn't like me if you knew I had a disorder..." you mumbled. Saying it out loud, it felt ridiculous. You knew he loved you. The fact that he waited for you to wake up even after how you'd treated him proved that. But it had been a fear nevertheless. "Now that I know, I can help you rather than making things worse. But in the future, please let me know. I hated watching you so upset without knowing how to help." You leaned against him, burying your face in his chest as you nodded.
YangYang:
(full fic coming soon) YangYang's youth was what truly scared you the most. He still had so much to learn. He was so naive, about some things at least. He could make you feel so good, so loved, when he'd hold you in his arms and kiss your head or when he threw himself across your lap and begged to be pet. You were scared that the second he knew the truth about you, he'd leave, or worse, treat you differently. Your older brother, Kun, had advised you to just be honest with him. To let him know when you had bad days. Yet, here you were, hiding out in your brothers bed, hoping practice would run late so YangYang wouldn't see your crestfallen face. It seemed luck wasn't on your side that day, not entirely anyway, because the door to the room opened and Kun walked in half shirtless, belt unbuckled. "Please don't strip anymore," you'd begged. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin at your words. "(y/n)?! What are you doing here?!" "I missed Yang..." "So why didn't you come to practice? You know you're welcome." Your silence was his answer and he sighed, sliding on another, not sweat-soaked shirt, and sat on the bed beside you, reaching out to gently stroke your arm. "You really should tell him," he whispered. "But what if he rejects me?" "He won't. Sis, I know him. He's not like some dirtbags you've dated in the past. And he might just be able to help you better than I can," he whispered. You knew he was right. He was always right (as annoying as it was). "Will you send him here? I don't want to get out of bed..." "Of course," he said, patting your arm one more time before getting out of bed and making his way out of the room. It was a few minutes later when a sweaty YangYang walked in, searching for your figure before sitting down beside you on Kun's bed. "You wanted to see me?" he asked. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." The words just rushed out before you could stop them, but you were thankful. This saved you from yourself. For a long moment, YangYang didn't say anything and you were beginning to think Kun had been wrong for once. "So that's why Kun had me do all that research..." Ok, that definitely wasn't what you were expecting. "Not long after we started dating, Kun made me do all this research on BPD. He even quizzed me once a week! I just assumed it was punishment for dating his sister!" A loud laugh fell past your lips. That was absolutely something Kun would do!
"Are you mad I didn't tell you?" you asked.
"Well, why didn't you?"
"I was afraid you'd leave me like my exes..."
"Then yes, I'm mad!" he said.
Your face dropped.
"I'm sorry..."
"I'll just have to teach you a lesson!"
With that, he threw himself on top of you, pressing his sweaty clothes against you as you shrieked, attempting to get away.
"Guys... not on my bed..."
#ficscafe#klibrary#kflixnet#kdiner#neoturtles#wayv fluff#wayv angst#wayv reactions#wayv scenarios#borderline personality disorder#kun x you#kun x y/n#kun x reader#ten x y/n#ten x you#ten x reader#winwin x reader#winwin x you#winwin x y/n#lucas x reader#lucas x you#lucas x y/n#xiaojun x reader#xiaojun x you#xiaojun x y/n#hendery x y/n#hendery x you#hendery x reader#yangyang x reader#yangyang x you
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Magic, Mayhem, and All Things In Between
Chapter 3: Background of the Study
[A/N: finally some y/n and loki development. soft loki moments. i am once again back with the self-indulgent fic and i hope you enjoy :’)]
other chapters can be found here
Weeks had passed since you had accepted Mr. Stark’s small favor. Weeks had passed since you began spending the majority of your time with the Asgardian brothers and dear Uncle Bruce. Though the days were filled with chatter, the late nights in the lab were quite the opposite. With only the low hum of machines to keep you company, you realized how lonely it can be. It was unlike the times you spent in the hospital, where you’d be surrounded by fellow doctors, nurses, and patients even at the dead of night. Despite how these late night duties meshed with early mornings, dulling your own sense of time, you didn’t mind it because of the company that you had. Research work, on the other hand, was a different story. Despite your years of experience, the burnout and loneliness that accompanied research work slowly made its way to the deepest parts of your brain.
“Hey,” a voice said as a hand waved in front of you, snapping you out of the trance you were in. It was Loki. “Are you okay, pet? You look rather dead.” The God held up a cup of freshly brewed coffee and passed it on to you.
“I’m fine,” came your quick reply as you received the cup from him, your hands nudging his slightly, “thank you for the coffee by the way.” You gave Loki a weak smile before beginning to sip from the warm cup of comfort that was given to you.
The lack of reaction was unusual. How many times has Loki seen you flustered with just the tiniest forms of physical touch? Probably every single time. Confused, he grabbed a chair and set it down beside you. “Are all you Midgardians always so dishonest about what you feel?” There was that usual bite in his manner of speaking. Though, no matter how hard he tried to hide it in his cold demeanor, he could feel the concern dripping from the words he uttered; the loneliness he saw in your eyes hit too close to home. Did he get too close? Maybe showing that he cared was a mistake.
Keeping your eyes on the warm mug, you hummed in reply, refusing to answer a clear yes. Your eyes glanced up at the God beside you, longing to understand why he’d even bother. Clearly, you were oblivious to any form of care or concern Loki has shown. It wasn’t as if you had your guard up, rather you were quite unfamiliar with the intimacies of talking about your own feelings. Although the question he asked was clearly rhetorical, you still wondered: Do Asgardians not repress their own feelings to prevent them from getting distracted from things that truly matter?
Green orbs stared at yours, noticing the ever darkening bags under your eyes. “I was just concerned,” Loki began, voice softening. The God looked away and focused on the variety of glassware set up on the table adjacent to them, “it has been a while since you’ve left the laboratory. You didn’t even sneak out to the medical wing for a little breather.”
You raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. How could he have noticed all that? How could he have cared at all? After all, you were just a lowly Midgardian, as he put it, and he was a God, a deity, someone with power and importance. “How did you-”
“It pains me that you put me on the same level as them, little doctor,” the God interjected as he faced you once more, “out of all the weeks we’ve spent in this laboratory, you really believed I wouldn’t have noticed.” He noticed the closeness of your proximity; his form inches away from yours, yet your mind was elsewhere.
“In my defense, everyone else I’ve met in this tower described you as a narcissistic asshole and a war criminal,” you shrugged, “so, naturally, I didn't think you would care at all about my well-being.” You took a sip from your cup, and indulged in the buzz the caffeine began to give you. “But I don’t think you’re as bad as they make you out to be. They just didn’t think of the whole story. Just took out a portion of it. It was unfair - what they did to you. It felt as if you always had the short end of the stick.”
Silence.
Now, it was your turn to shock your Asgardian companion. Being on the other end of empathy was foreign to Loki as everyone treated him quite harshly. He grew up in the shadow of Thor, the more loveable sibling, and, as much as he wanted to show off his capabilities, that he was just as worthy as Thor, Loki was left in the darkness, to wallow in promises unkept, to wallow in dreams broken, to wallow in his own great tragedy.
Eyes feeling heavy, You turned your head towards Loki, waiting for a response; though you were a naturally perceptive person, the look on his face was filled with emotions you couldn’t make out. Was he mad? Did you say too much? That analysis was unwarranted, of course he’d be mad. Embarrassed, you looked down on your cup of coffee once more, “I apologize if I said anything out of line. There are just too many things in my mind right now. I don’t think I was able to filter my thoughts very well.”
“Pray tell, dear doctor. What are you thinking of?” Loki replied, deciding to change the course of their conversation. With brows slightly raised and his gaze set at your exhausted form, you felt the God studying you, attempting to break down the essence of what makes the little physician tick.
Deciding to be a smartass, you replied, “like I said, many things.” You set down your cup of coffee on the table and crossed your arms. “Why do you ask, Loki? These past few weeks you’ve been awfully helpful to the point that Uncle says it’s weird and unlikely for you to do that just for a human. I appreciate it though, but I just don’t see why you should go out of your way to listen to me.”
“Your words wound me, doctor,” Loki chuckled, emerald eyes piercing yours, “can I not be concerned? I see years worth of loneliness and unfulfilled expectations in your eyes to the point that you can’t even deny it. I’m sure you understand what isolation and over independence can do.” Your eyes softened, glistening under the incandescent lights. You were cracking slowly, and the God knew this. He knew what you were seeking: comfort, validation, a shoulder to cry on. It was clear as day.
“Well, I could see all the walls you’ve built. You know everything about everybody, but barely anyone knows anything about you,” you attempted to reply proudly; however, your words were breathy, already beginning to shake. So much for an attempted bark. Embarrassed, you looked away defensively, not taking another moment under his perceptive gaze. It felt as if all the skeletons you’ve kept inside your closet were being showcased all of a sudden, and you hated every second of it. Your stomach churned as your defenses slowly came undone; it wouldn’t take a while now for you to start oversharing, possibly even crying your eyes out. His hand tenderly reached out to the edge of your chin and tilted it towards him. It was warm, soothing. Comforting.
“I could say the same to you, darling. You act as if you don’t build walls around you, yet you keep everyone else at arms reach. I know what loneliness and distrust does to people, and I also know that you shouldn’t hold yourself accountable for all these expectations.” There was a slight pang in Loki’s chest as he said all these truths. He too bore wounds invisible to the eye. He too carried scars from the past. These emotions were far too familiar to the raven-haired God much like old friends, and he was afraid that, by reading these off your face, he’d become attached somehow, mended together by a mutual understanding of each other’s pain. What would become of his plan then? His glorious purpose?
Looking up to him, you realized how small you were, how fragile, how easy it was for him to see through your façade. It was oddly nice to have someone who had a grasp on your inner demons, albeit without consent. You felt a connection in the making.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to trust him.
*
Days have passed since the God of Mischief and the doctor have shared a portion of the thoughts they hid away in the darkest parts of their head. It was needless to say that the two now had an unspoken connection, a commiseration of loneliness, self-doubt, and crushing expectations. Often, they’d find their gazes focused on one another, with smiles shared and laughter exchanged. Other times, a helping hand would linger longer than usual atop the other’s. A gentle squeeze or the light encircling of one’s thumb, a sign of care and concern; these gestures only happened when the two were alone, knowing that dear Uncle Bruce would be highly against it. However, it wouldn’t be long before the others noticed.
You were grateful that today was a relatively slow day in the laboratory. Majority of the specimens that were scheduled for today’s tests were finished earlier than usual along with the case presentations and progress reports Mr. Stark had asked you to make. Though it seemed like such a small feat, you took it positively; today, you could finally take a breather. You hummed happily as you began arranging the mountain of paperwork around the main table.
Upon reaching for the next pile of papers, a familiar hand laid atop of yours. You smiled and looked at your raven-haired companion, admiring the way his tousled locks framed his oh-so ethereal face.
“Do you need help, my dear doctor?” Loki asked as his thumb drew circles on your hand. Though his silvery voice tugged at your heartstrings as they always did, your cheeks were slightly tinged a light shade of red at mention of the pet name. The God never called you his doctor before.
“I can manage,” you replied as you turned your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You kept your gaze on your hands intertwined with his, the way they fit together so perfectly. “It’s surprisingly not as busy today.”
Loki leaned down, his face close behind your neck. “A bit bold today aren’t we, pet?” he jested, breath tickling the side of your ear.
Thor observed the scene from afar, shocked. He never thought that his brother would’ve established a bond with the doctor, not in the way that Loki didn’t deserve any type of social interaction, but in the way that his brother wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. With arms crossed, the God of Thunder continued to watch as the two continued on with their intimacies, wondering when and how this managed to start. He watched the way your eyes lingered on his brother attentively; the way you were able to tug a smile on Loki’s face; the way his face lit up when you were around; the way your gentle touch was able to open a different side of Loki.
Though he was wary of his brother and his antics, Thor disregarded his suspicions: the two of you were much too happy occupied in your bubble of… friendship? No, it was more than that. So much more. Something was blossoming, and the God of Thunder was sure of it. He was unsure of the status of you and Loki’s relationship, but nevertheless he was still happy. However, he wasn’t so sure if your uncle would be so accepting of it, knowing the bad blood between what had happened in New York.
The doors of the laboratory swept open, startling the two friends. Thor coughed loudly to alert his brother and the doctor, but it was already too late for them to fall back to a more believably platonic position. Out came Mr. Stark and Uncle Bruce from the elevators, both shocked at the closeness of you and Loki. Tony looked more curious than shocked at the development. Your uncle, on the other hand, radiated a crushing aura, and, although Uncle Bruce’s face seemed calm and collected at the moment, you knew very well that there was anger hidden underneath it. He always warned you about Loki and the danger he could bring if you got involved, so it was no surprise to you if his anger came from both concern and disappointment.
Awkward air filled the room as the two made their way towards the laboratory’s main table. Loki stepped back away from you, whispering something along the lines of you being okay. You nodded in affirmation then looked down, averting any type of eye contact, and started to fiddle with the sheets of paper you had in hand.
Sighing, you knew it was taboo to speak of the laboratory’s peace out loud since it always brought bad luck. Now, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.
taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff @aces-tattooartist
#mmaatib#magic mayhem and all things in between#loki#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki x y/n#loki x you#loki/you#loki/reader#amie drabbles
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No, Really
Summary: Adrien can no longer deny it - he is in love with Marinette! The only problem is, she has made it absolutely clear that she is definitely not interested in him. But when he discovers that Marinette might be harboring feelings for Chat Noir, Adrien decides that there is only one way to get together with her: Reveal his identity.
Trouble is? She doesn't believe him.
Hello and welcome! This fic was written for the @totographszine, which was publish for free here. Go check it out, the wonderful @anna-scribbles even did some excellent art of this fic in there.
Read on Ao3
Without any further ado... Enjoy!
Adrien was in love with Marinette. There was no getting around that any more. But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem that she felt the same way.
Ever since he had come to terms with his feelings, he’d been trying to flirt with her. A few cheesy lines here. Some lingering touches and eye contact there. Compliments scattered throughout the day. Although, as he had realized now, it was harder to compliment her more than he already had been. How had it taken him so long to figure out his feelings?
The worst part of it was that she even flirted back! Which may sound great, but his experiences with Ladybug had taught him that flirting back could also mean friendly banter. It was a frustratingly similar experience, which he chose not to dwell on too hard.
And just like with Ladybug, he was at least appreciating the friendship that he could share with Marinette. Now that she had begun to open up to him, he was learning all sorts of things about her. Her favorite foods, what exactly tickled her most, her little mannerisms.
One day he learned the most important little fact about Marinette of them all.
“What is it with you and crushin’ on celebs, girl?”
Adrien recognized Alya’s voice at once and his eyes widened when he realized who she was likely talking to on the other side of the locker.
Sure enough, Marinette let out an irritated groan. There was a sound of a locker opening.
“What makes you think I have a crush on him? Just because I drew him in my notebook—”
“Oh sure, if you were just drawing him, that’d be one thing. But the hearts and kissy faces tell a whole different story.”
Adrien stood stock-still, listening as intently as he could. It felt as if his heart had
stopped beating. Had he failed to win the hearts of both his crushes? Would he ever get a lucky break just for once?
“They weren’t—that’s—no! Those were …” Marinette sputtered and eventually mumbled something that sounded a lot like “spades.”
“Spades.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying, girl, if you want I could probably mention your name the next time I see him. Sure it’d be harder to pull off than with blondie, but I’m down.”
“Drop it, Alya,” Marinette said half-heartedly. The locker door was shut and they walked toward the entrance. For a moment, he was scared they would turn around and see him eavesdropping. “I’m sure Chat Noir doesn’t want to have my number pushed into his hand.”
Adrien’s eyes widened as he suddenly jolted to life. Chat Noir?
“Maybe. We’ll only find out if we give it a shot.” Their voices got more distant as they walked away. “At least we know you’ve got a type now.”
“Alya!”
In his heart of hearts, Adrien hoped that type included boys with green eyes and blond hair. Would it be too much to ask that she fall for him a second time? Not just as Chat Noir but as Adrien?
It was there, standing alone in the locker room, heart pounding in his throat and feeling light headed, that Adrien was suddenly struck by a plan. And while he was no Ladybug, he was pretty confident about this one.
After all, he didn’t need to make her fall for him twice. She just needed to find out who Chat Noir was.
--------------
His first opportunity took way too long to arrive. The need to confess his secret identity to her had been weighed against his duty not only to Paris but to Ladybug. He was as certain of Marinette’s trustworthiness as he could be, but he needed to be sure that she and only she heard him.
Besides, it made confessing his feelings a little easier too, which was honestly weighing just as heavily on his mind. Sure, safety of Paris and fighting Hawkmoth and all that, but there was also his poor battered heart to take into consideration. Ladybug had been gentle with her rejections, but they still stung as much as being tossed into a wall by a dozen akumas.
It took over a month for a golden opportunity. The four of them had been studying in Marinette’s room when Alya had left to go babysit her sisters, taking Nino along with her. Adrien watched them slowly pack up and amble over to the trap door, silently screaming every time they stopped for another little chat. But eventually, they did leave. Nino’s cap disappeared below the floor and the trapdoor shut behind them. It was late enough that Sabine and Tom had gone to bed already, but not so late that Adrien would have to leave yet, at least not for a couple hours.
Swallowing against the suddenly dryness in his throat, Adrien looked at Marinette. All thoughts of the physics homework in front of them banished the moment he saw her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, her brow furrowed in concentration.
How could one person be so cute?
Her bright blue eyes flickered up at him. “Something wrong, Adrien?”
There wasn’t going to be a better time. It was now or never.
“Marinette … I’m Chat Noir.”
The sound of her pencil scratching along the paper stopped as she stared at her homework. There was a long moment of silence wherein Adrien silently panicked. After a few seconds that stretched into infinity, which Adrien spent praying that she would say something, anything, she finally spoke.
“Yeah, okay.”
She said it with a snort and a chuckle. It was like when he was experimenting with different jokes for her and he found one that didn’t quite land but didn’t completely fall flat.
She returned back to her homework, and the sound of the pencil resumed.
“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Um … I suppose I can add a ‘haha’ in there too? If it makes you feel better?”
“You’re not supposed to laugh!”
“Then it’s not a very good joke.”
“It isn’t a joke,” Adrien said, crossing his arms haughtily. This was not going how he had planned in the slightest.
Marinette raised an eyebrow as she sat up. “There is no way you are Chat Noir.”
“Why not? I’m cool!”
“Exactly, and Chat Noir is a massive dweeb.”
Adrien gasped, scandalized. “Take that back!”
“I will not. Besides,” she continued, raising her hand, “there are plenty of things Chat Noir is that you aren’t and vice versa.” She raised a finger for each point. “Chat Noir is loud, outgoing, with a sharp tongue, and he’s a flirt to boot. Plus the whole massive dweeb thing.”
“And what about me?” Adrien pouted, almost dreading the answer. “Adrien Agreste me, I should say.”
“You’re quieter, to start with.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Maybe it was easier for her to describe someone who she thought wasn’t present. “You’re considerate and kind and a perfect gentleman.” She smirked and chuckled. “At least, you usually are.”
Adrien put his hands together and brought them next to his lips as he took a deep breath. He was suddenly reminded of all the times he’d made reservations or tried to set up an account on some website under his own name, only to have it deleted because it “couldn’t possibly be actually Adrien Agreste.” By this point in his initial planning stages of confessing to Marinette, they were already organizing their first date between passionate spells of making out, not trying to determine if he really was himself.
But Adrien was nothing if not adaptable.
With a wide, toothy grin worthy of his alter ego, he leaned forward, putting himself dangerously close to her face. The faint blush she’d been sporting flared to life and spread across her entire face. Her eyes went large as he purred out a reply.
“What an unfortunate alley cat I am, baring my soul to a beautiful princess and she doesn’t even believe me. Whatever shall I do?”
“W-wow, you’ve … you’ve really practiced this, h-haven’t you?” She put on a brave face and scooted backwards.
“You could say that. You could also say I’ve got a lot of experience with the whole Chat Noir flare.” The smile became more genuine as he added teasingly, “And it looks like you think Chat Noir might be more than just a massive dweeb, hmm?”
“Y-yeah?” She got back some of her composure—not much, but enough to start bantering back at him. “And what else is he then?”
“A cool cat, maybe,” he said, tossing his hair and running a hand through it. “Or, even better, a fine feline.” He grinned and finger gunned at her.
Marinette snorted. “You’ve definitely nailed down some of that Chat Noir full-of-yourself stuff. Congrats on getting your research done at least.”
“Not research. Just living the life, Pigtails.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Very creative nickname.” She smirked and crossed her arms. “Then again, it’s better than princess or my lady, so I’ll take it.”
“Hey now, Ladybug likes me calling her that, even if she tries to hide it.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. But seriously, whose idea was this? It feels like Alya had a hand in this. I just know it.”
“Why would Alya get me to try to tell you I’m Chat Noir?”
“She never gives up on her ships is all.” Marinette’s eyes went wide and she threw her hands over her mouth. “Forget I said that!”
“But I—”
Her hands went straight for his mouth. “Forget!”
He held his hands up in surrender and she backed off.
“Come on, though. What’s so hard to believe about me being Chat Noir?”
“I just can’t see you and Chat Noir being the same person. You’re both so different!”
“Okay, first off—yeah, I can be quiet sometimes,” Adrien admitted. “But you’ve seen how I am with my friends, when I’m comfortable. I can be just as outgoing as I am in the mask!”
Marinette massaged her temples. “So what, you’re saying you have to be with close friends to be as confident as you are making terrible puns in front of all of Paris?”
“Well, the mask helps a little,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all, then I don’t have to think about how what I say will impact the company or get yelled at by my father. I get to just … be wild.” He gave her a timid smile. “I suppose sometimes I go a little overboard, huh?”
Her blush deepened. “Y-yeah. I guess you do sometimes.” She cleared her throat and schooled her expression back into a skeptical one. “Assuming you are Chat Noir, of course.”
“Of course.” Quietly, he added, “You know, Adrien me isn’t the only one who is ... kind. I’ve done it plenty of times in the mask.”
“I mean, yeah, you do the heroics and everything, but I was talking about something—”
“Gentler?” he said with his best Chat Noir grin, which made her eyes widen like saucers. His voice was still barely above a whisper. “Like when I comfort akuma victims or sponsor animal shelters?”
“I—yes, like that,” she admitted in the same soft tone. A little stronger, she poked his chest and gave a small smirk. “But don’t you think Ladybug will be mad that you revealed your identity? You promised not to do that, you know. Assuming you really are Chat Noir.”
“Maybe I should have asked her about it first,” he admitted, even as something tickled at the back of his mind. How did she know about the promises between them? “But I’m sure she’d understand if she knew. The value of love is something we both agree on.”
“I mean, I guess, but—wait, what?”
“And I suppose you’ve noticed how, no matter what side of the mask I’m on, I love to flirt with the person I love?” She gasped, but he just shook his head and laughed. “Finally get there? I mean, I’ve been flirting with you nonstop for like a month.” He smiled. “Maybe you and Ladybug should hang out. The everyday Ladybug and the real-life Ladybug. Both of you can be really dense when it … comes to … realizing … oh my god.”
Adrien saw the exact moment that she realized that he had figured her out. One moment she was watching him attentively. The next, her eyes had widened in panic, her pupils shrinking down to tiny pinpoints. He knew that if he did nothing, she’d start flailing her arms around and denying it.
The distance between them turned to nothing as he leapt toward her, laughing. She grumbled as he pulled her close, squeezing her tight against his chest, but she didn’t try to break free.
“Don’t be so proud of yourself. You only got lucky,” she said as she returned the hug.
“Luck or not, I finally found you … my lady.”
He looked down at her face at the same moment that she looked up into his. A moment laden with meaning passed between them before they both broke down laughing again. At long last, they had finally found each other.
#Miraculous Ladybug#Adrien Agreste#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Adrienette#ml fanfiction#my writing#Totographs Zine
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Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)
🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉
Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.
@wltz-bby @mandy23b @happyskywhale @missunsympathetic
Author’s Note: Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for.
So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.
Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!
Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip
Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.
Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”
Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....
Words: 17,100
Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut.
_____
He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too
---
He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.
Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it. Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…
***
Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.
You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this? Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same. Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!
Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.
It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.
You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn��t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir’s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.
Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…
Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.
Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.
You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.
By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?
It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.
You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.
Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.
Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”
Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.
You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.
Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.
As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’
You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)
You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.
That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.
You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.
You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun. Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’
You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”
Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.
Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.
Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.
You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.
You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.
“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.
Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.
“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.
“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.
Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”
If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”
“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.
You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”
You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.
“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”
You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.
Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?
His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.
Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.
He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.
You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.
Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”
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Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!?
I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys!
Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜
#200!#Orson Krennic#Ben Mendelsohn#Orson Krennic x Reader#So. FYI for everyone the original request notes end at his 'come to my quarters we have data to review' and I just... didn't stop!#Sorry I was unable to resist this and I REALLY wanted it.#For any questions on the GIF just look at his face and tell me that /isn't/ how he's looking at reader throughout this fic#That's why I picked it.#Krennic x Reader#Director Krennic x Reader#Officer Benja Vy#I had to do waaaay too much scrolling to find that-! Hahah - our conversations!#Okay so in all the fics I've written for him Lorena is the only one(s) that get smutty. So this is ALSO your first Krennic/Reader smut!!#Linzi Writes#Linzi Writes Requests#Rogue One#Rogue One A Star Wars Story#That... /and he had Grace Too/ line#You either cackled like I did or you groaned#it was a final edit addition at like 10pm on the night of posting#Don't hate me I thought it was clever-!
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