#Smash Direct Spoilers

[tropeifier]

Originally posted online on June 30, 2024.

A comic based on the recently-revealed "Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom".

Zelda is always asking enemies to "please crow away", but when they drove her stark raven mad, she fought them owl by herself, with no egrets about the experience. But that's enough wise quacks from me!

[broodygaming]

I sure Hope Imogen does the thing! Character repercussions aside it’d be wicked interesting.

[several-ravens]

I LIED i'm actually back between episodes 79 and 80 hehe

things are going south and i live for it

[suckinitup]

[countblumiere]

FINALLY

[hugsohugs]

a legend of zelda game that's actually ABOUT zelda??? hot damn

new mario party looks cool too, hopefully it's better than the last one with the "super" title tho

[irisintheafterglow]

if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it

note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”

“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.” 

“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”

“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort. 

“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”

“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”

“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.” 

“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”

“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”

“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”

“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”

“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?” 

“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”

“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again. 

“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”

“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent. 

“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you. 

“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”

“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.

“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.” 

A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well. 

Please get me out of this. 

Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence. 

“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”

“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.

“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”

“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”

“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen. 

“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”

“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.

“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Your old man’s being an ass again?”

“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”

“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“You don’t think I can beat him?”

“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”

“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.” 

“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved. 

“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”

“Doll–”

“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features. 

“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[caughtthedarkness93]

Not to do more Furiosaposting (and SPOILERS AHEAD), but a couple more things I noticed on a second viewing:

• I think Dementus is being honest about how he lost his family when Furiosa confronts him about it, and that's a big point the film is making. Furiosa isn't like Dementus when she finally chases him down. But she recognizes that she could become like him - a vile, cruel warlord who uses his own pain as an excuse to run roughshod all over the wasteland, smashing everything in her path, using her pain as an excuse to take from others. By that point, she's already a part of Immortan Joe's war machine. She is already complicit. And he does say to her that killing him won't give her what she wants. She resists the idea, but ultimately, it sure seems like she realizes he's right. And ultimately, that leads to her big choice - make a positive change rather than simply trying to hurt the people who hurt you. Granted, she still does do plenty of hurting the people who hurt her (Nice face you got there, Joe, be a shame if something happened to it). But the big, real legacy she builds is taking the Citadel in the name of a greater cause than fueling Immortan's cult of cruelty.

• Praetorian Jack is also complicit, honestly. And it's something he seems to recognize. He outright says that he's looking for a righteous cause. There's a lot we don't know about this man. He tells us very little of his history, nor do we know why he chooses to ride for Immortan Joe. But we do know that after meeting Furiosa, he wants to do everything in his power to help her. She becomes his righteous cause. So the whole film, Furiosa is kind of pulled between those two directions - Dementus, and Jack. Do you defeat the pain you carry by throwing it back to the people who gave it to you? Or do you seek a righteous cause to build it into something positive?

• Perhaps one of my biggest takeaways is related to Jack's death. It's not until Dementus kills Jack that Furiosa gets really set on revenge. Like she clearly loathes Dementus before that. Her first time meeting him as an adult, she goes straight for her gun. The camera highlights their relationship a lot, and I'm pretty sure her vengeful drive towards him has its own musical motif - listen for that driving, distorted noise that you hear sometimes. But revenge doesn't become her biggest driver until after Jack dies. Even as she feels clear hate and rage towards this man, she's still set on getting home all that time. But when Jack dies, she goes out of her way to try to kill him. And, relatedly, when Jack dies, she loses the arm that has her star map tattoo on it. So to put it another way, when she chooses to commit to vengeance, she loses her way.

• We need to consider perspective and narrator here, as this isn't like Fury Road where it's from the point of view of Max, who was directly there. Because this film's opening shot isn't of Furiosa. It's of another character - it's of the History Man. The first line belongs to him - "As the world falls around us. How must we brave it's cruelties?" The closing narration is his as well. Something that sticks in my head more and more is Dementus' ultimate fate. What gets me about it is that it feels implausible. Not only for Furiosa as a character, but for the way the series usually handles injuries. So George Miller was a paramedic before he was a filmmaker. In fact, his work as a paramedic is what partly inspired the first Mad Max film and what funded it. And in these films, Miller has put his medical knowledge to use. The characters' injuries are usually handled in a realistic way, with a few flights of fancy for people to make it through frankly absurd car wrecks. You see this especially in Fury Road, which takes the time to establish that Max is a universal donor twice so it makes sense to have him give a blood transfusion to Furiosa at the end. It talks about the ultimate effects of her collapsed lung and how to treat it. The injuries in these films feel realistic in a way movie wounds often don't. Dementus' final fate does feel a little complicatedly cruel for someone as pragmatic as Furiosa, but what really gets me is how medically implausible it is. We're supposed to believe that Dementus has been stuck in the citadel with a peach tree growing out of him for five years without dying? I...kinda don't. Why does this matter? I think it signals that aspects of the story fall to unreliable narration. These films are campfire stories from a world that fell and rose again. Always have been. But this one has a more direct narrator. The History Man is telling this story. It is filtered through his perspective.

• And that adds another layer to things, considering Furiosa and the History Man's backgrounds. We see the History Man, we see a guy who is clearly horrified by Dementus' actions. When Furiosa's mom is getting executed, he cries. He tells Furiosa that she needs to make herself indispensable - likely because he feels that it's the best way to protect her. But he still does Dementus' bidding, often without question or argument. In a word, the thing that ultimately separates the History Man from Furiosa is that where he was complicit until the very end, Furiosa chose to rebel.

• And I guess if I had to boil it all down, I think there's a great big takeaway from this film. Don't seek hope. Become hope.

Man, I love this movie.

[fantasydreamland]

My Saviour

jon snow x fem reader

Summary: After escaping a wildling raid you find yourself being chased by a hungry wolf until a man of the Nights Watch rescues you. Your first night sleeping at castle black has you shivering to the bone until you seek warmth in your rescuer.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! some violence in opening story, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fluff, some spoilers

word count: 3004

masterlist

You just barely escaped your village being raided by wildlings. You saw some others escape in the opposite direction while everyone else was slaughtered like animals. You sprinted as fast as you could into the woods after seeing your family killed before your eyes.

Once you managed to get far enough away to catch your breath you stop behind a tree, panting onto your frozen hands. A twig snaps and your eyes dart up to meet a pair of vicious golden eyes through the thick snow watching you from another nearby tree. The wolf growls and before you have time to think it sprints towards you. You let out an unintentional scream and bolt in the other direction trying to twist and turn through trees to throw it off your path.

Frozen tears run down your face and your skin screams from the frost bite as you run for your life. Eventually you are led to a small frozen river. You carefully step a foot onto the ice and it lightly cracks. You quickly remove your foot until you see the wolf turn from behind a tree and spot you. You hold your breath and quickly tiptoe along the cracking ice. The wolf chases after you but then stops dead at the edge of the ice as if it knows the danger.

Halfway to the other side of the lake you slip and smash into the ice scraping open your exposed skin and causing the ice to form a much larger crack. You freeze in horror as you watch the loud crack slowly expand.

“Here! Quickly!” You hear a man’s voice shout to you. He spots the wolf on the other side as it turns around and leaves.

You look up to see a very handsome man in all black jumping off of his horse and pulling off his large fur cloak. He throws one end of the cloak towards you to grab onto. You grab it tightly as he slowly pulls you towards him. Your mind was in such a state of shock you no longer felt the ice nipping at your skin as you slid against it.

You began to shuffle closer and the ice let out another loud crack.

“Careful.” The man’s wide eyes met yours, he looked nearly as scared as you. “Remain still, just let me pull you.”

You nodded and put your full trust in this total stranger as he carefully pulled you off the ice and lifted you to stand. You instantly begin to fall over, your frozen bones not able to hold you up any longer.

“Gods, you’re frozen.” the man says as he wraps the cloak around you and rubs your arms to try and warm you.

“Do you think you can get up?” He says gesturing his head to his horse.

You nod, unable to speak through the shivering. He puts a hand on your back as you put your foot through the stirrup. His strong hands grab your sides and lift you up onto the horse. He quickly gets on behind you. You sigh as his warmth radiates against your back, you couldn’t help but press into him.

His arms remain tightly around you as he rode quickly. To where? You didn’t know. But the man just saved your life, you couldn’t help but trust him.

“Thank you.” You choked out in a breathy whisper.

“Shh,” he said as his arms squeezed you tighter. “You’re safe now.”

**********

You barely remember the rest of the ride as you drift in and out of consciousness.

“Rider!” You heard a man yell far in the distance.

A loud horn blows and you open your eyes again. Your blurry vision adjusts to a giant wall of ice. The wall. This was Castle Black and this was a man of the Nights Watch. You felt slightly relieved as they’ve been known to protect the people against wildlings.

The large dark door began to creek open slowly. Finally, it loudly came to a halt and he rode in.

Your mind was too hazy to comprehend your surroundings. You could barely see the blurry visions of men dressed in all black through the snow. Soon you began to drift off again.

“Who is this?” You heard a man say.

“I don’t know. I heard a scream then I found her being chased by a wolf.” Your rescuers voice radiated against you as he held you in his arms. You couldn’t even remember him taking you off the horse. “She’s frozen half to death.”

“Bring her inside.” The other man said.

**********

The next time you awoke you felt much warmer. You open your eyes to see yourself in a bed of furs in a small dark room with a warm fire going. You look to your side to see the man watching you from a chair. He flinches when you make eye contact with him.

“I- I’m sorry I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He says shyly. You give him a soft smile.

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

He nods. “Are… are you alright?”

“I think so…” you say unsure.

“Well, there’s a warm bath and fresh clothing waiting for you.” He gestures to a tub in the corner.

You sit up and hiss in pain. You suddenly became more awake and aware of the pain radiating throughout your entire body. The man jumps out of his chair to help you out of the bed.

“Thank you again, sir.”

“Jon,” he says. “Jon Snow.”

“Jon.” You smile at him as you take his hand. “I’m (y/n).”

He gives you a sweet smile. He helps you up and leads you to the tub.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Could you…” you quickly say. “I don’t know if I can do this on my own right now…”

“Oh, um, yes. I can- I can help you, if you want.” He says timidly.

You nod and turn your back as he comes closer to you. He unties the strings of your tattered dress and his fingers brush against your skin causing electricity. He turns his gaze away as you slowly pull your dress off your body, leaving you fully exposed. Your heart races as he lends you his hand to hold while you step into the tub. Heat rises in his cheeks and it takes all his will power to not stare at your naked body.

Your weak arms shake as you lower yourself into the warm water. Your hand grasps on the edge of the tub as your other squeezes tightly onto Jon’s. The warm water soothes and stings your skin at the same time. You lean forward so all he can see is your bare back which was covered with cuts and bruises.

The air is tense as you both move in silence. He sits down on the stool beside the tub. He grabs a sponge and soaks it in the water before lightly wiping your back. You hiss and quickly he pulls away.

“It’s ok.” Your eyes meet his with a soft look.

He nods as he continues to gently wipe the dried blood from your skin. The tenderness of his touch makes you sigh. When he’s finished he grabs a small pale beside the tub and scoops up some water.

“Lean your head back a little.” He says almost in a whisper.

You do as he says and lean your head back. You close your eyes as he pours water over your hair. You sigh and lean more into his touch as his fingers work through your hair. The new angle giving him a slight view of your exposed breasts makes him nearly choke on air.

You turn your head and look into his eyes as he gently wipes the remaining blood from your face. The world felt still as you gazed at each other. Staring deep into each others eyes felt like you had known one another for a lifetime. He softly wipes the blood from your lip and couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to kiss them. He thought you were the most beautiful and intriguing woman he had ever seen.

“What happened?” He breaks the tense silence.

“Wildlings raided my village…” you said quietly, turning away and looking down into the water. “I barely escaped. I was running from them then suddenly I was running from a wolf chasing me… I don’t know how I’m still alive right now.”

“Did anyone else get away?” He asked.

You met his eyes. “Some. I saw people escaping the other direction.”

He nods, a sad expression on his face. “And your family?”

You shook your head looking back down.

“They could have escaped…” he says reassuringly.

“No.” You said flatly. “I saw the savages kill them.”

“I’m sorry.” He said lightly brushing your shoulder. Your breath catches at the touch.

Jon grabs you fresh robes and sets them on the stool before turning to help you up. You take both his hands as he lifts you from the water. The candle light illuminating your naked frame. He can’t help but glance at your wet body before meeting your eyes again, making you blush. He awkwardly looks to the side with red cheeks as you step out of the tub holding onto his hands. He passes you the robes to put on and steals one last glance of you from the corner of his eye.

“I’ll be in the room right next door if you need anything.” He says shyly.

“Thank you, Jon.” You stand near the bed as he heads towards the door.

“Goodnight (y/n).”

“Goodnight.” You say as he leaves the room and you crawl into bed.

**********

You wake in the middle of the night shivering. The fire was dull and the warm room turned cold. The wind whistled loudly from a storm raging outside. After trying hard to fall back asleep you give up and get up from bed, wrapping one of the furs around you.

You sneak out the door and into Jon’s room. Your heart stops and you gasp as your eyes connect with the red eyed white wolf laying next to Jon’s bed. You stumble back and bump into a table causing a clatter that wakes Jon.

“(y/n)?” Jon says hazily as he wakes up. He notices your terrified expression toward the wolf.

He gets out of bed revealing his exposed upper half which manages to distract your thoughts for a moment before you turn back to the wolf who was still laying down leisurely.

“I promise he won’t harm you. He’s not wild, I’ve had him since he was a pup.” He walks towards you and turns to the wolf. “Ghost, come.”

The wolf stands and slowly walks over causing you to stumble backwards again.

“Shh it’s ok, I promise. Here…” he says taking your hand.

You timidly move your hand with his towards the wolf. You held your breath as he sniffed your hand then gave you a small lick. Jon lets go of your hand as you continue to pet Ghost, all the fear easing away.

“He likes you.” Jon smiles.

You smile and stand as Jon opens the door for Ghost to leave. “Wait outside boy.”

He turns back to you, rubbing his bare arms as he starts to adjust from being out of his warm bed.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, slightly shivering.

“No, I just can’t sleep.” You say as you begin to shiver again too.

“The nights can get very cold here.” He says, noticing your obvious shivering. “We can share the bed… if you want.”

You looked at him for a moment and didn’t respond before walking past him toward the bed and slowly crawling under the furs. Your eyes met his and he followed as he also climbed under. The shivering did not stop and eventually your teeth began to chatter.

“Come here,” Jon said pulling you closer.

You let him pull you into his arms until he was cuddling you close. Your heart raced and you swear you could feel his racing against your back.

“I’m not hurting you am I?” He suddenly asks, remembering your injuries.

“Not at all.” You whisper back.

The room is still cold but the warmth of him behind you soothes some of the shivering. You shuffle closer into him but then freeze as you felt something hard pressed against you. You knew he noticed your reaction as you felt him also tense.

Your breath quickened and you didn’t know what to do. After a moment, you took a deep breath and relaxed against him. You feel him relax his arms before hugging you tighter. Although you managed to relax your body you were still filled with nerves. Pushing your fear away you boldly press yourself against him again, this time clearly intentional. Jon groans in your ear and pushes his member harder into your backside.

“Jon…” you breathe as he slowly begins kissing your neck while you grind against him.

You turn around to face him and your eyes meet full of bewilderment and lust. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you happily oblige. He kisses you like it’s the last kiss he’ll ever have.

You pull him closer against you before your hand moves from his waist trailing down his torso. He gasps into the kiss as you lightly grab his hard member over his trousers. You reach for the strings of his pants but he quickly grabs your hand to stop you.

“I can’t…” Jon says with a pained look on his face, clearly not wanting to stop.

“Why not?” You whisper.

“I- I swore a vow. As a man of the Nights Watch.”

“Oh… They make you swear not to lay with a woman?”

“Something like that… we swear to never marry or father children.”

“So… you do not actually swear off of… sex.”

“Well I- Yeah… I guess not…” Jon furrows his brows at the realization.

Without another word he throws caution to the wind and reaches between you to pull the ties of your robe before pushing it off your shoulders. He grabs your breast and leans forward to put the other in his mouth making you let out a quiet moan. His lips make their way up your collarbone to your neck until they land back on your lips. His hand begins to explore your body until his fingers lightly brush against your most sensitive area causing you to gasp and break the kiss.

“Jon…” You sigh, “I have never…”

“Me neither…” he whispers back.

You smile and lean over to capture his lips again. This time he lets you pull the strings of his pants before he pulls them fully off. You barely get a glimpse of his lower half before he’s on top of you littering kisses all along your jaw and neck.

“Are you sure?” He whispers as you feel him rubbing his length against you.

The feeling makes your brain fuzzy and you quickly nod staring deep into his eyes.

“It is going to hurt… at first.” He says.

You nod again and he pushes into you making your jaw drop and your face scrunch in pain as you grab hard onto his biceps. He stops but you pull him closer signaling to keep going and you hear a low groan escape him as he pushes through. Once he’s fully inside you he stills. You pant through the pain as you adjust to him. He waits not just for your sake, but with the way you squeezed so tightly around him he was already struggling to not lose control and finish before this has even begun.

After another moment he begins to move slowly as your foreheads are pressed together. You breathe through the pain as it starts to fade. Your pained expression soon turns into pleasure and you’re suddenly desperate for more of him.

“Jon please… faster.” You whisper to him.

Without another word he starts thrusting faster into you until your moans begin to fill the room. He kisses you hard in a failed attempt to keep you quiet.

“Shh.” He smirks down at you, slowing his pace. “You are going to wake everyone up.”

“Sorry…” you whisper and giggle.

His speed picks up again and you bite your lip to hold try and hold back your loud moans. Your hands tangle into his curls and tug hard. He groans in your ear and gently bites your neck in response then kisses the tender spot. It becomes harder and harder to keep quiet as he slams into you harder and harder. You bite down on your lip so hard you thought it might bleed again. You gasp his name as the pressure in your belly builds. Every cell in your body ignites and you begin to see stars. Suddenly everything snaps and he quickly covers your mouth as you scream out. His thrusts become more sloppy as he quickly reaches his own peak and pulls out. He can’t stop himself from grunting loudly as he spills himself onto your stomach. In that moment his mind was so blurred by the feeling of you he completely forgot where he was. You nearly faint at the gorgeous sight of him above you as he came.

He crashes down beside you and reaches for a cloth before cleaning you up.

“You are going to wake everyone up...” You tease.

He chuckles, “I would be very surprised if we did not.”

“Well… at least I am no longer cold.” You give a shy smirk.

He smiles and kisses your temple before pulling you in close so you’re laying on his chest. You would face your problems in the morning. Right now you just savor the feeling of your saviours strong arms wrapped around you and his heart beating against your ear as you both drift off to sleep.

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 29th

Day 29: Branding // Hunter - Prey // Uniforms

Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Forced marriages, escaping/running, being chased, slightly dubious consent, vaginal sex, rough sex

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You can hear the dogs barking, the hounds going crazy for your scent. Hunting you, chasing you down. 

Your dress is in tatters, ripped and muddy, heavy around your ankles as the slippers you are wearing provide no protection from the sticks and stones that cover the ground you have to trek. 

It’s a race for freedom, for escape. It feels useless with the number of coins that have been offered for your return. Your very life depends on not being caught but the sounds of the horses get closer, the pounding of their hooves sealing your fate. 

You are running for your very life, the man you are to marry is more monster than man. Sure to kill you like he had killed his other wives. Terrified of him and the scar that bisects his left cheek, a reminder of his violent nature every time you had look upon him. 

The stream is nearby. Stumbling to your knees, you cry out in pain when your knees hit the stones and you feel the bite of the rough surface scratching against your palms and cutting them. 

Panting, you struggle to your feet, nearly falling again and cursing your sex. If you were wearing trousers, you would be farther than you have made it. 

Pushing away the need to sob as you clutch your hands and rush towards the water that could conceal your scent from the hounds. It could provide you an escape. 

The pounding of the horses' hooves gets closer, breaking through the clearing and you hear a shout of your name. Making you scream as you break into an awkward run. One last push to get away. 

He swoops in, leaping off the beast’s back and snatching you up by your waist. Your flailing is no use against his strength and agility. He has been a mercenary his entire life, only newly made a lord after saving the king’s life. 

“Let me go!” Your kicking and beating on his arms does nothing but make him chuckle. Amused by your feeble attempts to rescue yourself from your fate. 

“Never.” He growls the word into your ear, holding tight to you and carrying you off towards the small cave. Whistling to his horse, you curse the beast as he dutifully turns and follows his master. 

The sounds of the dogs faded, the men who had been riding with Pero Tovar obviously moving in a different direction, but it is no use. He has you. Not letting you go even as you fight him every step of the way. Screaming out curses and struggling to get out of his tight grip. His prize to have. 

The rain starts to beat down on you right before he reaches the edge of the cave, soaking your already soaked dress and making him spit out a curse that is the only grim satisfaction you will have. Dropping you to the cold ground and reaching for his belt. 

His attack is quick, fierce. His lips smashing agaisnt yours and his tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth as his hands unlace his breeches and push your skirts up to your hips. 

“Per-” 

With an accuracy that forces the air out of your lungs with a sharp yelp, Pero drives into you. Burying his cock deep with a hiss of pleasure when your walls squeeze him and he immediately starts to rock into your body harshly. 

“Fuck.” He growls, his weight pinning you down and holding you in place while he takes you. Claims you. Ruins you. “You will never escape me.” He promises, kissing  you again so you cannot argue with him. Swallowing your sounds down greedily as he ruts on top of you. Your cunt aches, stretched out on his thick cock and you fear that he will split you in two. 

His grunts are harsh, rough, just like he is. Greedy for the softness and pleasure your body brings him, he pushes inside you again and again. Feeling how tight you are, how your cunt takes him with ease. 

Your fingers dig into his hair and you pull it, but that just makes him fuck you harder. Snapping his hips forward with a determination to breed you right here in this cave. To make sure that everyone knows that you are his no matter how often you try to run from him. You will never make it far. You are the prey and he is your hunter. 

Your body heats up, cunt weeping from his cock hammering into it and your stomach twists in pleasure. Starting to thrash under him for another reason rather than trying to escape. Your moan makes him chuckle breathlessly. 

“That’s it.” He growls. “Moan for me. Your cunt wants me, even if you don’t. I will just keep you pinned to the bed with my cock, no?” He flashes a grin as he thrusts deep again and you cry out. “Good girl.” He hisses when your walls clench down. “Taking my cock so good.” 

You want to hiss and spit at him, but you can’t. Not when every drive of his hips takes away your ability to speak. To even think, so you just yank on his hair again. 

That spurs him on. Another bruising kiss slotted against your lips and his tongue curling into your mouth to tangle with yours. He loves this. The chase is in his blood. He is a hunter and now he has his prize. 

Squeezing your eyes closed, you squeal into his mouth, your body shaking under his when he pushes deep and presses against something incredible inside you. Making stars burst behind your eyes and your cunt gushes around the ever deeper thrusts of his cock. 

Pero groans, his pace faltering when he feels your walls quivering around him, plunging deep and painting your walls with hot spurts of his sticky seed. Planting his seed deep in the hopes that it takes. 

Your limbs feel heavy and your hands fall away from his hair, listening to him pant against your neck before he starts to chuckle. “You almost made it to the river this time, amor.” He rasps out, squeezing your hip and twitching inside you. Your walls contract around his softening cock and you huff as he kisses your neck softly. 

“I did, but the damn dogs were rushing me.” You point out. 

“Just like the first time you ran from me.” He hums in amusement. 

“I really was scared of you then.” It seems so silly to have been so afraid of your husband so many years ago. How you had listened to the rumors of his brutality. 

“Come, the servants will have your bath ready when we get home.” He murmurs, pulling back and slowly pulling out of your body. 

Home. A place you had once feared and now delighted in returning to. You had run and he had caught you, both of you discovering you had delighted in the chase and now this game had been born of it. Marking the yearly anniversary of your initial race for freedom and your mercenary catching you. 

[blednokrov]

I've been having lots of fun designing random OP fusions for a hypothetical AU where people can fuse... Feel free to drop a combo of any two Strawhats in my asks for me to draw a fusion of them (I'm only reading impel down rn so please no spoilers)

More on these:

Mickey (Nami + Franky) - ultimate Big Sibling fusion. She's very balanced in her sense of responsibility, desire to take other under her wing and general "fun but let's keep it sane and safe" vibe. One of favorite fusions of Strawhats as her appearance often means "supervised fun that is otherwise strongly off limits" and they just love her in general. Overall, Mickey's cool, fun and sexy (and not allowed in many public places because she only wears bikini swimsuits). He fights with electrocution.

Didja miss me? Well, now you can look at my pretty face all you want - we're gonna have so-o-o much fun~

U.V. or just Violet (Usopp + Vivi) - the big dreamer one. She is really sweet and emotionally open - probably one of most child-like fusions, but often gets timid and unsure when it's time for her to to stand up for herself. She loves fantasizing and excitedly ranting about all these ideas on how to make world a better place, but goes into very absurd territory without noticing. They fight with a sling and explosives.

No, wait, but listen. But what if The World Government, like, printed money so that everyone can have some, and- No, wait, i don't think this is how economy works. Okay, what if we all just...

Roro (Zoro + Robin) - arguably the most unhinged fusion of them all. With Robin's morbidly creative mind and Zoro's general disinhibition in most generally dangerous situations, Roro is pretty much unstoppable once he set his mind to do something reckless, dangerous and possibly really violent (as they both don't have any qualms about murdering or causing severe bodily harm). However when not in "focused on following through with an insane idea" mode, Roro is actually a rather pleasant company! They're calm, collected and thoughtful, yet shamelessly silly, especially with Luffy and Chopper who they adore. Most of the crew is rather cautious about them (except for Luffy who whines how he misses playing "multiarmed tags" with Roro) because they can cause much trouble without supervision. On the other hand, they're very strong. They fight combining swordfighting with generating extra limbs (which also means an arm slashing you with a sword can sneak on you from any direction).

Oh. I see. How about we send his head- okay, his fingers in a box to his captain as a warning?

Note: Luffy has the privilege of naming all fusions and usually just smashes names together until it sounds like an easy to remember name... Sometimes inner logic of how the name was made is lost even to him

[fukashiin]

a whit of hope — housewardens

❥ twinkling stars, luminescent fairy lights, and a stuffed plushie that sits in silence.

In which you weep in agony in the wake of your mind telling you that you may not be able to ever return to your beloved world that you hold so closely to your heart.

Your quivering soul is ever so grateful that you have the housewardens from the respective dorms to kiss your tears away.

cw: gn reader, self-deprecation, hints of depression, very inconsistent writing style + half beta read

wc: 8k (1000-1530 per chara.)

implied book 3 and 6 spoilers for azul's and idia's piece

Your ears take in the pitter-patter of the rain that resounds outside of Ramshackle dorm. You disassociate into the rather sentimental ambience of the room that you've become familiar with in a matter of time. The stars look particularly brighter tonight, you thought. But is that really something to be happy about at this moment?

Your teary eyes directs to your jagged study desk, with jumbled notebooks that sit open as they washed in the moon's accompanying light that would falter in certain moments. It feels utterly cold, your mind wanders. Your knuckle-swollen hands clutches the wrinkled bedsheets as the semi-busted lamp in your room flickers. You feel yourself looking vacantly at the pent-up vest that hung atop the wardrobe's knob.

You've lost count. How many months, years has it been since your existence from your home world faded into nothingness completely? You wanted to reject reality, smash it into fragments, shout out your thoughts that's been a burden weighing on your shoulders until your body gives in a shuts down.

You gave your word to the headmaster in a heartbeat, that you'd promise to take diligent supervision over Grim until he discovers a way back to the place where your entire being stays loyally rooted to. Your subconscious would always surpress the raging urge to click your tongue bitterly once he resorts to tomfoolery when asked if he has made the necessary arrangements to send you back. The swirling feeling of hatred that stills in your stomach makes you oh-so desperate to just double-over and vomit.

Why? Nobody understands. Not even you have a single clue to why that crow was so stubbornly adamant on keeping you here in an alternate world where you didn't even sense a relevant belonging in. Why, why, why? Teeth clenched, you feel the stars looking down before you as they laugh at your devastated state in mockery.

These deadly thoughts tore your mind to shreds. Will anyone even remember me? What if there's no way to actually return and I'll just have to keep surviving? What if they think I'm just dead by now?

You break. Mentally and physically.

Sight going red, your eyes dart around the dim-lit room to look for something suitable for your—supposed disappearance. You were nearly at your limit. But at the very same time, you were still fortunate enough to have even a microscopic sliver of hope floating in your chest. You heaved a sigh, as you look down at the floor beneath you.

With that, not even the tears could hold itself back anymore. You weep, cry, and beg. Wails getting louder as it echoes hauntingly throughout the room. The sound of your prolonged grief, will ever be rivalled to the roaring waves of the sea.

Until you sense another being approaching closer to your state.

Riddle Rosehearts

"I was wondering who could've been up at 1am in the morning to make such noises," You hear Riddle's muffled, fatigued voice outside of the door that leads straight to your room. He surely must've been off-ing heads left and right, with the swift movement of his magical pen.

You—immediately—to not be heard—seize the pillow by your side to shove your face in, in high hopes that your cries wouldn't be overheard by another living being. Especially Heartslabyul's queen, whose job is to enforce his disciplinary onto those unruly residents who makes zero effort to act in accordance upon the tyrannical rules that were upheld.

Riddle takes your suspicious silence to creak the door open, "Prefect," he lets himself in, "Why are you not in bed yet? And—where is that flaming cat of yours? Isn't he supposed to be with you?"

"In addition.." he thought his eyes were playing a prank on him. Could someone ever be this disorderly? That could compete with a certain two in his dorm for the award-winning prize of the most unmanageable student there is in all of Night Raven College? "What happened to your room?! It's in absolute disarray!"

He, at once, halted his comments as his gaze flickered at your hunched-over figure. Hugging the pillow in a deathly grip, you avoid his eyes as much as you possibly could. Oh, how much of a fool you were to believe that he didn't catch the way you guarded your body as your arms squeeze around the item impossibly tighter.

The dejected state you were in, unknowingly shot a hole through Riddle's heart. Cruel, unforgiving.

Silence quickly dominated the room. To put it simply, Riddle was at an unfortunate lost for words. Have you been crying this whole time without telling a single soul? Why were the velvet strings that were tugging at his heart convulse so violently, as if he was acquainted with the fact of how much of an impact you have made on him after the incident that he was longing to forget? He looks at the way an unforeseen tear drops at the corner of your bloodshot eyes, as it streams down to your chapped lips, decorated ugly in fissured cracks.

He didn't know. He couldn't grasp how his anger turned into sympathy in a matter of seconds. Queries raced through his mind alarmingly. Was it Ace and Deuce again? What exactly was so misfortunate for the uptight prefect that it was able to bring them down to their knees? But you were unaware of a heavily harboured feeling in his heart, an unfamiliar sense of protection that strayed within.

"Who..." Riddle is cautious. He takes a few steps towards you, carefully—as if you're made of some sort of pottery that has been precisely sculptured—but not for this world, since he fears you might back away from his fuming presence, "Who is responsible for this?"

This triggers your fight-or-flight response. You cower away from the redhead apprehensively, scooting closer to the headboard of your bed as your eyes fall shut. What is he possibly planning to do? You couldn't fathom what Riddle's thoughts were at the moment. "Look, I know I stayed up past bedtime but!—"

You feel a certain warmth caress your tear-stained cheeks. "No." 

It was..Riddle? But still, you're scared to open your eyes. You're afraid that he might cast out his magic in a millisecond, using the deceitful look of pity on his face as a chance to discipline you correspondingly. "...I don't care about that."

You peaked a glance at Riddle, slowly opening your left eye, stiff as ever. You wanted to continue your depressive episode, but for an entirely different reason now.

Why was his warmth so comforting? Why isn't he saying anything more than his signature line? Why do you find the utmost solace lingering in your heart when he wipes your tears away? The Riddle Rosehearts, doing all of this to Ramshackle's prefect, that has stooped so low behind everyone's absence?

You decided to disassemble the safety guards that's been shielding your heart, and let your feelings fall free.

"I...I apologise for staying awake till now,’ you gasped through your sobs, “And...how you’re seeing this side of me.” Your icy-cold hands take ahold of his that stroked your cheek gently, in an attempt to calm you down from whatever has been troubling you. You’ve never seen him so caring before. It’s like whoever up there, that you were hopelessly praying to above, heard your pleas and sent the perfect angel down your way to mend your heart. 

He didn't want to care about study guides anymore. The sheer will power that reflected in his eyes, only goes to show he isn't afraid to let down the sky-high expectations that were carved into his very being.

“You surely speak of nonsense when your mind is not in the right place.” He awkwardly crouches down to your level, meeting eye-to-eye, as he hesitantly cups his palms around your cheeks. You yourself were aware that this, of all times, was definitely not the moment you should be stifling a laugh. From his tousled hair, his blazing hot cheeks where bloomed a rosy-pink shade and his neat pajamas that look like they’ve just been freshly ironed head to toe.

“I am not the most amiable when it comes to the language of comfort,” he whispers, soft and low, with his lips inches away from yours. “But I know very well that someone who suffers daily with a number of three rowdy raccoons on their tail shouldn’t be suffering alone. ..I guess, I myself am familiar with that feeling, somehow.” He casts his eyes down towards the ground in shame, and back up to your face.

“P..Please, tell me if I do something out of your liking.” stated firmly, his face closed towards yours, palms still resting on both sides of your cheeks, as he gives them butterfly-light kisses that linger for a few seconds. His eyes scan your reactions after pulling away and diving right back in, but you’ve never felt your heart being filled to the brim with overflowing affection in your entire lifetime.

“Now,” you see Riddle, the regular Riddle, stand tall and direct his attention on the door entry. “I’m going to search for that gremlin of yours. It’s immediately off with his head once I find him after abandoning his oh-very precious owner.”

Leona Kingscholar

“Ah, seriously...” You jolt upwards, with your hair standing on end as a husky voice rings through your ears. “I came here to relax cause’ all the guys in Savanaclaw are causing sucha’ ruckus and my ears are sensitive,” gulping mentally, your frame becomes smaller as your rough hands hurriedly wipe the tears off your face, moments away before Leona nudges the door open with his foot,

 “And what do I find but a certain herbivore wailing like a baby in the crib in the middle of the night?”

“Leona...” The everlasting feeling of frustration numbed on your tongue, tears growing hotter at the eyesore of a situation that unfolded in front of your eyes. You punch your pillow, hoping to get a blow out of it. Does he even know how your nightly problems shouldn't concern him in the slightest? Why send Leona—a prince—someone who's been living under the dignified curtains of royalty for generations since the time of his birth to come to your aid? 

You’re angry, frustrated, infuriated—a swirl of emotions numbed in your stomach. You just wanted to go back to your own world.

You would rather drop dead, eyes sore as tears seep under the sparkling moonlight continuously with no end, than to have an actual prince comfort you. You would feel like none less of an undeserved peasant.

But your stubborn front only masks the tears that fall behind. You're uncertain how much longer you could keep up your facade before the black filth that fills your body consumes you whole.

His slothful nature remains as he stays glued to the ground, his eyes boring into yours.

“...This is causing me a headache too, you know that?” Scratching his head, Leona trudges towards your bed, steps heavy from endless exhaustion, as he sits down and lays his head in your lap. A dry gasp emitted from you sore throat as you raise your arms in defence. He lets out his laugh, throaty and chock-full of overwhelming pride as his stare burns into your face from underneath.

“I don’t wanna see you bawling your eyes out like that,” met by a glowing set of emerald eyes-one that is stripped off of its usual arrogance and is replaced by a sheen of gold, shining tenderness. Leona rests his hands above yours and enwraps it in a slight squeeze, hoping that his message of hospitality travels to your deadly cold corpse.

Your body is going to break. Mind smashed by the ruthless hammer of reality, breaths quickened as you process the scene before you.

“Tear your heart out, yell at the top of your lungs, shout at the whole world how much you hate everyone,” he rambles on, lips moving tenderly in each second against the misty air, and you get the gist of what he’s trying to convey.

“But just don’t bottle it all up. You’re doing the exact opposite of what you wanna achieve.” Harsh, unwavering, but filled with warmth. Like a morning sunrise that greets your view at the crack of dawn, one that shines with a fierce blaze above the earth’s horizon which blinds your sight. 

But luckily, you don’t feel the least blinded at all. You feel fulfilled, that you could witness such a sight. A sight that punches you right in the gut and ripped your bodily nerves out, one that showed you that life is not always sunshine and rainbows. 

You clutched his hands in your shivering palms, which you held on to like a salvation on this helpless night.

“A..Are you okay?”

“What..?” This was expected. He was seen dumbfounded in seconds. Wasn’t he the one who’s supposed to support you at this very moment? When you’re sobbing endlessly with no one to turn to?

Emitting a rough groan, his eyes fall shut. And he thought all his efforts were wasted? Silly. Wondering, you tried your best to oppress a laugh that’s been bubbling in your throat.

“I meant, whether you’re okay with coming in here and telling me all these sweet things.” You rub his forehead and smoothed his hair back, attempting to give him some sort of comfortable friction as small payment back for what he did. Like a devoted mother inclining to her own child, as they lie in bed with a temperature higher than average. “You rather wouldn’t do this at all, would you?”

“Ah..how seriously troublesome.” Admittedly, he’s embarrassed. His cheeks are flushed, and you certainly don’t miss the chance to sneak a peak, earning a light flick on your forehead. 

“Whatever, feelin’ better now?” he pinches the thick skin on your waist. Better? Feeling better? 

Your tears have stopped flowing, your mind clears of all foggy implications of possible futuristic ideas of you building up to your breaking point, and your heart squeals in content. You’re grateful, that at least, one beating heart can connect to yours in a split second. That could listen to your worries, your cries for help, and how much you loathe yourself to no end.

“..Sure.” Your response falls flat in an instant. Leona isn’t an easy individual to fool, so his eyes widened out of his sleepy trance. You giggle and look at him with the softest of eyes, filled with all the affection in the world you could muster.

“Hah? I’m not going to come in here every night to pat you on the head and wipe your tears away like a spoiled toddler,” His eyebrows furrowed, “So make sure you treasure this, cause it won’t be for free.”

Twirling his soft tendrils in your ring finger, you mutter. “Like Hell I expected it to be.”

Sharing one last look of passion between both your eyes, Leona leaves feathery kisses on your knuckles, that trails up to your neck, which leaves all types of tingling sensations that spark within. You don’t miss the way he murmurs one last sentence, one that renders you lightheaded.

“I’m proud of you, my one and only herbivore.”

Azul Ashengrotto 

A certain individual’s newly polished footwear clicked and clacked on Ramshackle’s worn surface. Curiosity aroused, you peered up at the entrance of your room sheepishly.

“Now, this is unexpected, dear prefect.” Propping his glasses comfortably just right above the bridge of his nose, he opens his arms wide, as if he contains the most long-lasting benevolence which puts the Sea Witch that rules over the glimmering waters to shame. “Ah, but fear not–we can clearly talk this out! Just give me a scrap of your trust and time, and I’ll make sure that all your misgivings will vanish from this world in an instant. No traces left behind.”

You quirk an eyebrow, not the normal kind of quirk where you’re actually establishing interest in his playful deeds. But the one that leaves you astonished, that makes you question Azul’s course of action as you’re weeping. Infront of him.

A glint of mischief flashes in his diamond eyes, intent crystal-clear as the raindrops that races down the windowpanes that are attached to your room. 

You’re not surprised in the least—no, you’re just plain out bored of all his pitiful attempts at trying to seal a deal with you, even after all the history that took place. His unceasing passion for capitalism dreads you to the core, you avoid the thought of the possible number of inferior patrons he managed to fool with his underlying schemes he’s planned out with two other underlings.

“I don’t need your cherished benevolence,” You felt pathetic under the eyes of a sole founder of a striving lounge that could outlead you in a split second. “Or your cheap deals, or that dangerous look on your face-seriously, what are you doing here?”

Azul lets out a moderate hum, arms crossed over the other in displeasure at your question. “My, what a miserable tone you have there.” In normal circumstances, he anticipates the rate of you using your usual tactic of first, brushing it off with a coy smile, and second, saying the expected “Maybe next time.” to shield your entire sanity before devoting your whole body and soul to be close to, if not a 100%.

But where was Ramshackle’s prefect? The person who managed to dastardly out-villain a massively feared individual, the person who faced and threatened Leona of all people with bravery, and the person who was able clasp Azul’s heart that was thrown around, kicked about, and thrashed under other children’s immaturity to envelop it in their own embrace? 

Where was the person who was able to bring him back to his senses before no one else could?

His eyes squint to the ground. He’s beyond frustrated, over the top and it’s embarrassing. It sets a disgraceful name to the twins, the only people who have known him since elementary and stood by his side that took zero to no interest in bullying the poor octopus. That was until, when you came into the picture. 

“If you’re just going to stand there then...please, leave..” You cough, a lump of ruined pride splattered onto the bedsheets disgustingly. The tears are never-ending, like some forgotten tap that has been running for a full minute. Except it wasn’t just a whole minute for you, but for months. Months, months and months till years where the outrageous thoughts booked a spot in your head and refused to leave until it broke you down to feeble little pieces.

Azul sighs. Weak and defeated. 

How was he going to help you in this condition? His mind trails to other useful possibilities, intent pure, thoughts not-so. But as of now, his only priority, no matter what it costs, is to bring back the prefect that Azul Ashengrotto himself has grown so fond of.

He closes the door behind him and gave you a spiralling look of determination, initially faltering.

“..Well, it’s not that I am in the exact same predicament as you are,” he saunters before you while stripping his coat off in the process, stuffing his gloves in the hip pocket. “But I can’t say that I don’t understand your feelings of wanting to get back at the world for its mistreatment it has put you through.”

You don’t want this. You don’t want to be forced into signing a contract that benefits only the initiator, not again.

You flinch momentarily as he closes in on you. But you don’t fall back. Instead, you lose yourself in the immediate feeling of consolation as it blankets over your body. And what was causing that feeling—

Was his coat.

His large, fabric-sewn coat that hugged you like a fuzzy bear. Protecting you from all the other outside species that dared come to get closer by an inch. Your mind tells you to stay away at all cost, that you don’t need a sadistic money-hogger to hog your emotions away as well. But your heart swells, love overflowing for this one man that treated you so kindly. Gave you his notes, showed you his weaknesses, and even stopped editing his childhood pictures that he just wants to tear to shreds like a wild animal behind your back. All for free and for you, not for anybody else.

Because that’s how much you mean to him. Even if he doesn’t show it.

 You can’t help but let the tears fall once again, but silently, as you look up at the person behind all this.

“Merfolks have it easy under the cold weather, so no need to sweat it.” Masking his flustered state, he shrugs his shoulders and raised his arm in defence. How truly, magnificently silly I am. He thought. “And I am no different as an octopus.”

“But..rest assured, I have grown.” Leaning down to get a closer view at your face, he frowns at your wet cheeks that have been stained by the waterfall of tears, tired eyes that painted a faded crimson red around the edges, and the last spot—your forehead.

Suddenly, you feel dizzy. Dizzy and drunk from everything he’s giving you. You now, more than ever, want to steal his whole wardrobe of apparel and wrap them around your figure that yearns for his touch. The alleviation that transmits to you through his thick clothes, his branded clothing that smelled of pricey, hand-plucked plumerias from a bottled-cologne which Azul usually wears. And his own natural scent. God.

You’re spiralling.

Easy little pecks were left on your forehead. A peck that swelled with everlasting affection, one that overwhelmed with his unfair favouritism towards you, and the other that told you nobody else could ever deliver these passionate feelings to the entirety of your body that twists and turns while he claims you as his own. 

And lastly, a drunken kiss on the lips that leaves you wanting more.

“Though, I’m not entirely sure on how to bring you back to where you came from,” He thinks, and thinks, and thinks. Both of you know it was just seen as repetitive at this point, regardless...

“But you are always welcome to come running to me if you have even the slightest bit of problems. Just tell me the name, and surely, I’ll make sure they’ll never lay a hand on you once again.”  

Kalim Al-asim

Merry. Cheerful, happy, and lively. Feelings that you don’t hold in the palms of your hands at the very moment, paints your ghastly hallways in luxury as it bounces off your cries.

Kalim was too drowned out of his own thoughts, arms holding a basket of flowers that was specially picked out from the own good will of his heart from Scarabia’s highly-treasured plants of botany that originated centuries ago, adorned in red, lustre trinkets that priced at a small value. The same colour of his eyes that hypnotised you every time you steal a glance of warmheartedness. 

“Jasmine, Kudu, Iris-mm, they’re all here!” He could never be more happier. His finger tips graze over the fragile petals, leaving a speck of powdery pollen on one’s smooth skin as he dusts it off. He wishes to see you smile, brighter than the sun will ever be—brighter than him. To let you know that your entire being is worth more than his everything he’s ever received in his life. By his parents, servants, Jamil–that’s why he’s here in the first place.

To not see you cry yourself to sleep.

Before you knew it, the wooden basket that was crafted under one’s professional leisure, all the carefully picked blossoms that held a thousand meanings at your mercy, drops and crashes to the ground.

He thought it was suspicious at first. How you didn’t respond to the repetitive bangs on your door that tarnished in a distasteful, brown-to-grey colour scale that drifts of dust. Anybody could’ve sworn he would break the door down with his mere knocking-considering how weak it has grown over its unused years.

Not only that, he was sure that the fragrance that falls off the flowers was strong enough to grace the entire household of Ramshackle. Given Jamil’s advice, he didn’t want to taint such beauties that he preserved just for you. As his friend, and unknowingly, as his majesty.

“K-kalim!” Plunging off your sunken bed in an instant, burst of hidden energy coming from God knows where—you stood up with jelly-like legs, ready to give out at any moment. His face that told a forgotten story of horror, fingers trembling with the wind across his clothes-features that made you want to grasp on to the last ounce of strength that you mumbled under your breath for the heavens above.

“Why’re you here at this hour..? Are you sure Jamil isn’t yelling at each and every one of the residents in Scarabia to go search for you?” You were beyond concerned. What could happen if he went outside alone again? Disturbed as you were, but admittedly, you didn’t want him to go back. Back to Scarabia, where you would morph back to the lonesome, pitiable self you were.

He laughs as his dimwitted-self would. Everybody grows uneasy at such a positive individual. He brushes off a heavy task of his-even if it potentially causes his life. People around complain and tells him it wasn’t as safe as he thought.

But you treasured such an individual. You wanted to stay with this individual for as long as you could, you wanted to become this individual that portrayed such angelic charms where no one could compete. You didn’t want to stay at Night Raven Collage, the title of the powerless prefect enforced upon you against your own will. You didn’t choose to stay here in the first place.

On the spot, soft sniffling took over your senses.

“No...” You weren’t even given the time to react, before a pair of shaken hands grab on to your shoulders by force. “No...who did this to you?!” 

Wide eyes stared into the endless depths of your soul, an iron grip stronger than the struggling ceiling that looked like it was about to collapse onto your defenseless bodies at any second. You're surely exaggerating, an eery image that was to be recorded inside the textbooks of former, worldwide-phenomenal history, one that automatically forces a stain in your sullied mind, something that you won’t be able to forget so simply.

Kalim’s overbearing emotions, rotton as the flowers that were stepped on as they lay lifelessly on the floor.

Your body froze, heart cracking emphatically for the entire world to hear. You never wanted it to come to this point, because you expected such response. You knew that the great tears of his beloveds will pollute the clarity of his mind, instantly turning to self-blame, which you dread to see. You never wanted anything more than to seal yourself away from this world without anyone ever noticing.

“Please, don’t ever think this was any of your fault.” Caressing his dampened cheek, you cooed as low as the crickets of a mockingbird that reverberates around the neighbourhood at the wee hours of the night. The last thing you ever wanted was to spell trouble for Kalim. Now, two unbroken streams of tears flowed, his still prevailed.

“No. Now that that I’ve seen your tears..” He wipes his eyes, “I want to give you something that significances in value more than my life!” 

Silly, something that doesn’t quite sit corrected with the mood. But you know he’s dead serious, right?

“Jewellery, makeup, fancy clothing, a chandelier—anything! Please, just name the price! I don’t care if Jamil disapproves!”

You wanted to cry yourself to sleep.

“Please...” He pulls you in a hug. A hug that warns you to never let go, a hug that held you like a life support, a hug that gifted you unconditional love that the world failed to send. “Tell me what’s wrong, I’ll send ten-no-a hundred servants on your way! You won’t have to worry about a thing, they’ll take care of you better than I ever wi-”

Immediate silence, desperate cries arrowed by your hushed move to place a kiss on his lips. His heated ramblings that fell off the tip of his tongue that tuned in with your head in a daze, making your heart oh-so ready to jump out of your body and offer the same pleasure back.

Immediately, he cradled your head in his arms. Love radiating from his body, burned hotter than his hometown where he stepped foot in every day. A longing pang of guilt, mixed with the sentiment of an olden song from the Land of Hot Sands that would bring tranquil upon the children of the sun who would squeal in euphoric measures.  A core memory that Kalim enjoys reminiscing every now and then.

He does everything in his power to bring such comfort to your mind.

“S-so don’t worry about the flowers...” He pulls away as he grips the side of your head, “I’ll give you something much more worthy.”

He closes in, peppering sweet, saccharine pecks on the shell of your ears that flavoured of honey and vanilla. Kisses soothing as morning Jasmine tea, topped in luscious sugar cubes that shimmered in the slightest under the soft, hovering sunlight. His kisses are heavenly, to die for, and something that you can never get from anybody else.

“Hey, can we go to bed together?” He rubs your temples shyly, hoping that you agree to his offer. “I want to stay with you till the sun rises. To give you all the cuddles and nose nuzzles you deserve in the entire world.”

To no one’s surprise- you thought for a second, even having your doubts and possible consequences that ran through your head. But you realised-that doesn’t matter. And even never will, if you’re lucky enough. So all you could do was nod.

In the blink of an eye, you both are now scurrying to the middle of your bed with the door shut. Your heart flutters, lead by Kalim’s loving grip.

His feelings now beamed a radiance of dazzling, eye-blinding smiles.

Because he would rather be greeted by the comforting view of your pretty face in the morning. Something different other than a tray full of metal utensils, accompanied by expensive ceramic bowls filled with freshly picked fruits, and a cup of warm tea that waits to be sipped on.

Vil Schoenheit

A faded tune plays out just outside the room of your door, as one’s sensual voice reaches your ears just loud enough for you to hear, amidst the torrential rain.

“Mira, Mira, tell me something.” 

A pause,

“Who, at the moment, is the most beautiful of all?”

You shudder in anticipation. A name that existed in this world, a name that’s been forgotten by the people from your world that was nowhere near in sight, which possibly made multiple headlines and was altered to deceased in the end-

A name that belonged to you. A puny human being. 

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

You audibly scoffed at how stupid it was. You? The fairest? Not even the bloody stars that aligned for you every once in a while could behold such a weak lie right in front of your face. Yes, you’re far from the fairest, far from beautiful, far from presentable—just a body sown by crimson threads interlacing in the most poisonous, velvety of patterns where one saw fit to mingle their courtly love with.

“My, did you hear that? It didn’t say my name for the first time.” Shoving his handphone back into his pocket, he rests his hand on his hip, assuming you’d get the message, a simple trick up his sleeves that he knew it were to be of use one day. You catch a quick glimpse of his hand. It’s still the same as ever-smudged, dry lipstick that matched the colour of Vil. What enticing aura that surrounds him, which you could never hold a candle to in a million years.

“Perhaps, it is I who has kept on believing such hoax? The Magic Mirror never lies.” He places a finger to his lips, “So, calm yourself. It would be a problem if I were to stain my hands from tears like yours.”

Demeanor as harsh as the Evil Queen, but you know from the bottom of his heart that these words weren’t lies. At all.

He swiftly pushes the door back until it closes, as his gaze ricochets among your worn pajamas, unruly hair, and your indented fingernails present of hours from unconscious biting and pricking-a slacked appearance that defeats the whole purpose of being beauty’s shining light. But don’t worry, just add the tiniest budge of makeup, make an appointment for the most world-class salons that makes tenfold the amount of money you make and conceal all those imperfections with the help insincere compliments that sheds of jealousy. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?

Vil rolls his eyes. Wrong. An absolutely atrocious idea.

Your shoulders drop the way your tears did, your presence a mockery to his. You shift awkwardly under his peering eyes that were no different from a hawk’s as he studies your figure. After a moment, a small smirk dances on his face, fleek eyebrows raising as your tumbled eyes stared at him in contempt. Vil swishes his hair back before he walks towards you and cups your face in the palm of his hands.

“Well, the thought of you being the fairest doesn’t sound...half bad.” Twisting your head slightly, he analyses for it for a few seconds and combes your hair with his elongated fingers, easing the frizz that eats away at your chances of being the utmost beautiful amid all the other unwithering bouquets of roses out there. 

But..you didn’t want to believe that. You obviously can’t be so sure that you are in fact, the most eye-catching anyone has ever seen. You didn’t—couldn’t see how Vil saw you as one of his kind, a lovely rose put on display for the hungry eyes of influencers, model scouters and agencies that actively has their eyes open for new talents. In short, you were less than worthy.

But to Vil, and to him alone, you were the most prettiest rose he has ever layed his eyes upon. A rose that lit up his sad endings, making them ones he would want to live through. As long as you were there, no bad endings would  ever be bad endings with sunken eyes and dried tears. Because you were there to give him his own happy ever after that he's longed for forever.

Whispered coos brushed against your ears as he babbles on about how much of a mess you were at the moment, but he’s aware that we was balancing on a thin line of string that was his own mentality. He wanted nothing more than to take care of you and to tend to you to your uttermost enchanting self that only he could call his. A name suitable for Ramshackle’s prefect, no?

A beauty amongst all the other dorms, uniqueness that piqued countless interests at school, but you chose him? And he still wonders why till this day. Exactly why-he’s set on caressing your body, shushing your worries and unravelling your deepest of vulnerabilities. He wants you to prosper more than ever, to spread your wings that you kept a secret from everyone and soar magnificently through the burdensome storms until you reached the mount of the stars above.

“But, these tears are terribly troublesome.” He pulls your face closer, “Come now, let me wipe them away.” 

You froze up for a bit before shifting away slightly. You don’t know why-but the thought of Vil doing something so out-of-character makes you shudder like a lonesome, stray cat in the windy nights. Not really that far off from your current state, but you digress.

That’s when realisation actually starts to hit you like a truck–It’s way past his bedtime, did he even get to do his routinely touch-ups before coming here? Your sanity is nothing more than past the levels of recurring zeros, but you haven’t completely lost yourself. At least, that’s what you hoped. For both you and your beloved’s sake.

There, he tsks. “What are you, half-asleep?” His eyebrows knit as he looks down at you cross-armed. He isn’t wrong-you were still trying to process his unprecedented courses of actions that kept ambushing your thoughts on by one. 

Not particularly good for the wellbeing of your mind, but you would be lying if you said cupid hasn’t played with your heartstrings like a contrabass if his streaming flow of purple-tipped locks that skimmed right over your eyelashes in the most graceful way possible-didn’t make your heart beat a few milliseconds faster, followed by heated, flushed cheeks. “But, you said-”

“Do you not know how to take a joke?” He tips your chin upwards in the slightest, giving you a better view of his eyes that swirled of his complete endearment towards you. Entranced, is a word you would describe yourself in. Everything about him makes you want to melt into a puddle this instant. His body language, his hair, to his tantalizing scent, flirtatious but soft-hearted touches of gold that sparked a connection only between two hearts and no more.

Your tears fall harder than before, which managed to startle Vil as he pulls his fingers away from your face. Yes, you look pathetic, but you’ve never wanted anything more than just an iota of comfort. From anyone, you even pleaded for the heaven’s wave of hope above, for everyone to hear but no one to appear. You’re desperate and drained, unfilled with life as your soul screams out just as loud as your cries do.

“Goodness.” His gaze softens, as he directs your hands rubbing your eyes to the large of your thighs. Gleaming eyes meet yours as he closes your eyes shut. Once he deems you ready, you were immediately swept away with the fervor feeling of bliss that spreads throughout your entire body.

Tenderly kisses were placed on top each of your eyelids, sending a low hum of pleasure down your throat as Vil captivates you deeper into the tunnels of his own heart that he’s guarded for so long. He wants you to understand him, to fulfill his lovestruck desires that makes all the 7 types of Greek love drastically pale in comparison. A love that no one could ever copy if they wanted to, a love that’s shared between two devoted individuals, as dazzling as the Evil Queen’s tiara that flashes in front of wandering eyes.

He holds the sides of your jaw so passionately, it makes you knees go weak. 

He wants to show his fans—the whole earth—how much of an otherworldly being you can truly be, and that his relationship with you was not all just show.

“I’ll stay with you for the night, that way I can make sure you’re all prim and proper in the morning once you wake up from your daily slumber.” He plants a soft peck on your lips, directing one hand down your waist while massaging it quietly.

You nod, fluttering you eyes open as he grazes his thumb ever so gently on your forehead. You’d succumb to each and every one of his effort to take care of you, no matter how strenuous it may seem. Because you’re all his. A person that he’ll gladly spend all his endings with. Just without the script this time- because true love doesn’t need such artificial shortcuts when it’s between you and him.

Idia Shroud

“U-Uh...” Your eyes spot an imprecise silhouette as it strolls closer to your door, taking unsure steps while visible strands of incandescent hair that sways in place lights up the closed area–that you reluctantly call your home. Incoherent mumbles of defiance slides through the dull width shaping the space between the door and the decaying wall that’s been collecting dust and inducing nasty pests for God knows how long.

Twiddling his thumbs in motioning circles, he stutters to speak the next audible sentence that’s been waiting to roll off the tip of his tongue. Fidgeting eyes stayed ultra-glued to the ground as he presses his lips tight. Summoning the tiniest bit of courage to peep through the crack that has been distancing both him and yourself from ever getting closer, he mutters.

“I...I couldn’t help but hear you.” His fingers come to a stop as his hand latches on to the metallic-painted doorknob, widening his field of vision of you tightening your grip on the poor bedsheets that probably sustained countless hours of unrestrained rage that doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. He sighs, before resting his hand once he came to a comfortable position.

“Do you mind if I come in?”

You huffed, one laced with arrogance, and you dully motion his shaking form to come inside with the tip of your finger. He oddly lacks reaction for the first time despite his past inept encounters with you where you could only recall his solid refusal to make direct eye contact, how he tipped his hoodie further down his face so he could hide his eyes finding his oh-gracious savior–either Ortho or the nearest door next by where he could trip over his own loose shoelaces to hide in. 

He shuts the door and stumbles inside to sit at the side of your bed—his shoelaces are still untied. That serves your mind into a disorientation, not knowing whether to chuckle at his childish carelessness that is the same of a child’s or to cringe at how painfully long he took just to reach the remaining half of the bed-and to occupy it.

Though he wouldn’t mind if you did laugh for just a millisecond. Hell, even cracking a delicate smile would’ve been enough to bring silent peace to his heart. Your laugh is an un-sung melody that jazzes with the wind. One that compliments your endearing gaze, unblemished with the tiniest glint of protection in your eyes that pierces right through his, sharp as a honed needle.

He swears he saw flower petals that enriches the school grounds comedically come flowing down behind you, like he was meant to see such an ethereal sight bestowed upon his eyes. Was the sunlight gracing your skin too bright as if an influx of blinding stars were shooting down to hit the earth ground-first, or was it just him?

No matter, once he was comfortable, he shuffles closer–just a little closer, so that his breathy voice could be heard within the thunderous downpour. It’s nothing compared to your endless stream of tears, he feels. And it’s true.

“...Can’t go back to your own world, huh? Must be depressing.” There winds away the momentous sympathy he presented so obviously to the naked eye. But the words that he spits out of his running mouth and his body language are two entirely different things. He’s growing increasingly nervous as the clock ticks by. 

Your seemingly boundless patience is truly a gifted trait, if you could knock out someone’s tooth once or twice right now, you would.

But once he looks into your eyes once more, he feels it—the ruthless pang that scarfs down on his own heart, repulsive, disgusting, unsightly, your disheveled appearance rips open an undiscovered memory of his, one that he wants to forget. The demonic voices in his head that submerges him deep down his past inability to come to the rescue for someone who needed it the most. Tingling nerves creep up his body, as the knots in his throat displays him utterly, deafeningly speechless, unable to scream out.

Will it only get worse from here?

If he won't be able to save the very person who accepted him for the way he was, just because of his own negligence again?

It's terribly cliche but he does it. Like a real mvp would, his mind speaks things he can't say aloud. His hand hovers just right above your own, achingly close, and he slowly caresses your scraped knuckles, before interlacing his raw-boned fingers between yours. His fingers twitch in the slightest, but he calms the disastrous war in his mind and squeezes the flesh that only dares to squeeze back.

"I get it...i-if I'm not some type of fairy tale prince that's all lovey-dovey." His other hand toys with the ends of his hair. away from your curious gaze. His words, how he enunciates them, the way they don't leave your ears with unfilled fondness that's been deeply rooted in your heart for ages-are choppy as usual. And you love him for that.

Could he have found someone else so abruptly unjudgmental of him? Someone who sees right through his loner facade? He wishes this moment could last forever, just you and him, under the glittering moonlight that highlights your facial features, a prepossessing sight that mirrors the exact same times where you sit together in the day, on the same bench, under the same tree.

Whispers filled with room for only two souls.

"B-but, it's only natural for me to take this much courage," He pauses before inhaling a sharp breath, "okay..?"

You could only send out a small laugh before his free hand slips off the fabric that covers your frame-hiding your shoulders. Your eyes widen momentarily before you fall into a bliss of heavenly exchange.

His lips connect with the skin on your shoulder. A soothing texture that subdues the whirl of emotions that rack through your entire body, replaces it with unsaid longing for your mere touch. Forbidden anesthesia to your train of thoughts, the voice which you couldn't seem to find within yourself anymore, to which you decided to roam your tear-stained hands in his flickering hair, mumbling sweet praises of love while he plants his pecks in each and every inch on your shoulder, leaving tiny smacks from his lips once it disconnects.

You could never ask for a better way to showcase your love for Idia. Undying, naive love that even he would find stupid for a lone wolf like him. But his eyes could only stray to your lips. Lonely—was one way to describe it.

Maybe one day he could empty out his own thoughts, his own arrogant feelings that cages his ego, and substitute the loneliness that masks it with his own lips that were none other than lonelier. 

It's a few minutes–maybe longer than that, before his face leaves your body and his thumbs massaging the bare skin while he catches his breath. Rather someone as inexperienced as him was bound to do something silly, but he leaves you in a state of surprise when he pulls it off. Was the side quest really that hard? You chuckled. "I'm happy you came. Really."

His gaze swiftly returns to your eyes. Eyes that sheen on the surface–there it is. Eyes of someone beautiful, the opposite of him.

"Is there any way I can pay you back?" You ask once again. You have a vague idea of what he might demand back as payment.

His mood lightens, and suddenly, his hair seems brighter than usual. 

"...Let's go back to Ignihyde dorm together. Tons'a sweet games we can play on my PC until the sun rises."   

Malleus Draconia 

You've lost your track of time, how long it's been since you've been holding in the disgusting bile that hangs over the tip of your lips. Hideous tears that paints your face, the word 'pathetic' scrawled ruthlessly across your forehead, ridiculing each and every course of action you take out of pure pity. Scrunching your face out of anger? Nails digging into your skin so dangerously deep trickles of crimson blood gushes out of it? A childish emotion you’re taking way too seriously?

Foolish. How dense could that headmage be to let you enroll at such a school as Night Raven College?

You could only hiccup once more before palish flickering lights—ones identical to fireflies—illuminate the room that blinds your line of sight. A gentle gust of wind that whisks upon coming in contact with your figure. A rather soft glow that relishes with the dampened air that surrounds it. You recognise the scenery before you quickly, it’s burned into your the deepest caves of your mind at this point.

The tall figure looms before you, eyes shut, as he regains his consciousness and takes seconds to let his eyes flicker a few times before his gaze settles wholly on you. A shudder slithers through your body.

The Malleus Draconia. A prominent, noble profile from Briar Valley where heads are hung low, torches are lit, gates are unbolted, all in favour and in submission for a singular prince that reigns over the land where residents sing a chorus of praises at his very name. 

You wonder if he’s here to give you a greeting regarding a goodnight’s rest? After all, it’s been around a month’s span since you’ve each had your enchanting encounters with each other in the dead of the night.

“Child of man.” He whispers, beyond your hearing. The rainstorm distinguishes your own ability to hear past his low utter of words, other nights were just fine, but this particular night is where your humanly senses betray you. Your sentimental daydreams you have where your back in your own world, the nostalgic scent of home that brings your disdained body back it’s dignity that you felt was missing your entire time here in this unfamiliar world,

And your homesickness finally going away. The melody that weaves with the endless song of time, harmonizing together, wrapping your heart in a paramount supply of hugs that’s warmer than the frayed blanket that sits atop your shivering frame. The nocturnal air that stabs you all throughout your body gives your bones an unwelcomed smile.

Still, he continues. “Your gift of cries are...horrendously loud. I suppose, abnormal for even the human aural to bear hear to.”

The snot that clogs your nose and sniffles leaves you next words sounding-somewhat decipherable. “I-I’m aware..” 

You’re positive you’ve passed the safe levels of lifeless insanity at the point. An esteemed prince who holds onto the steel ropes of eternal living, face-to-face with a frail, powerless human being who’s lost it’s way in life. The basic need to be grateful for being given such a short lifespan but such a widespread of humanly emotions, gone with the wind.

But Malleus only has so little to show you before you die down into mere dust, no?

“..Would you like me to take my leave?” He questions. It’s simple: Someone’s bawling their eyes out in front of you, it’s only normal to assume that they want to be left alone at most, right?

You didn’t answer. You couldn't answer. No body language, zero eye contact, the unfiltered noise of silence that grows larger as both of your hearts beat in rhythm. You were sure that if anyone from his hometown were to stumble upon this, to see your lack of basic respect towards its beloved kind, you could have never prepare for the cruel fate that dawns upon your very being.

You sit still. The hands that tremble under his gaze, barricading your ears from listening any further, The thunderous rainstorms are particularly loud tonight, was it his doing? His own emotions reflecting in the rain-bearing clouds that only seemed to gather more neighbouring ones to produce more short-lived lightnings of thunder? Or was it yours too?

You await his response. The disturbance that creeps up behind your back is suffocating. 

But the only thing you see in his eyes is sorrow. 

Emerald green, eyes that usually basked in glossed solemnity, faltering before your very eyes. Eyes that go soft, only in the light of your very presence.

How it started? You’re not sure. How he moved after despite your purposeful ignorance? He was too quick that he appeared in front of you, right in the blink of your teary eyes.

The tip of his finger, pointed under your chin as he invites the tiniest scrap of magic to use to make you look up at him. Just what was he planning to do next? Chant out an ancient spell that sends your head hitting the pillow the next instant? But you can’t deny, his face was..a sight to take in. You were probably missing out the past couple of nights chatting with him under the light pole that weakly casts light upon your talking bodies, due to Ramshackle still having yet to be renovated, possibly throwing away a couple of thousands of thaumarks just to fix that age-old building which sends a storm of dust flying your way.

“Child of man,” Your eyes focus solely on him. “do I have your appropriate consent?”

Appropriate consent? Your mind strays off to countless possibilities—what possible measures could he have thought about taking, dubious enough to ask for your very own consent, one that comes out from your own mouth that speaks your heart but doesn’t dare to speak the very depths of your mind?

Malleus remains poised—as usual, regal air that he carries around with him everywhere. On the other hand, you were conflicted. A one-of-a-kind chance! One of his supporters would persuade. You had no idea what he could be hiding behind his front. The blood in your veins run cold, but the scars-the blazing scars you obtained through the numerous overblots. The unpaid labour that you were coerced into, making you scurry from left to right for a certain mage, the restless nights where you had to skim through unfamiliar formulas as it started downing on your brain.

But you choose to trust. For the first time in a while, because your heart knows he isn’t the type of person. 

Nodding, you feel your eyes fall shut.

His steady fingers, tracing the very tip of your jawline, a passion that radiates out of his own intimacy, cracking under the closure of your eyes. You wish you could open them, but you didn’t want to interrupt the loving sensations that brought the utmost peace to your wounded soul. It didn’t feel like thorns pricking at your skin, no, but a bundle of tight roses, presented in the most delicate fashion that soothed the invading noises that thundered in your head, which now felt like a distant memory.

The colour of fiery red, the same colour that splashed his heart, setting it ablaze, only the best for the person who saw beyond his frontal image. The person who saw such rumours about him silly. The person who was able to grasp his heart and bond it with their never-ending kindness.

And you feel him hesitate. But he was still the same as you ever saw him.

The Malleus Draconia, who would stop at nothing to protect your defenseless body from anything that dares to bring harm to you.

Who would take an excruciating sword to the heart for your own sake.

The Malleus Draconia, who would make the sun and the moon collide, just for you.

The tears begin falling, they’re non-stop, and they don’t plan to stop any time soon. The love-filled kisses he leaves on your jawline feels deep. Full of months from craving, since the moment he found out about your existence in this twisted world. He figures how much you abhorred it all around, and all the awful memories that relives itself through your mind each and every night, memories that morphed itself into nightmares.

But he whispers into your ear once again that he’ll bring you into a world full of sweet dreams, that you’ll no longer have to brood over such ugly daydreams that echoes blanky into your head. He continues his nurturing actions, his intoxicating kisses, feeling that his gift of love was far from ending.

Because he only wants to bathe you in all forms of peace, something that he couldn’t sincerely feel until he met you. So he’s simply giving back what he took.

A worthy gift from the heart, healing on this helpless night, no?

[pikahlua]

MHA Chapter 412 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

tagline 迫る崩壊にデクは⁉︎ せまるほうかいにデクは⁉︎ semaru houkai ni DEKU wa!? Deku [faces] the approaching decay!?

1 内側 うちがわ uchigawa Inside [his body],

2 防御に徹して身動きが取れなかった間 ぼうぎょにてっしてみうごきがとれなかったあいだ bougyo ni tesshite miugoki ga torenakatta aida while he was completely unable to move himself in defense,

3 「黒鞭」で無理矢理筋肉を伸縮させ続けた 「５TH」でむりやりきんにくをしんしゅくさせつづけた 「5TH (kanji: kuro muchi)」 de muriyari kinniku wo shinshuku sase tsudzuketa he was able to continue to force his muscles expand and contract with the 5th (read as: Black Whip).

4 筋力限界蓄積「発勁」 きんりょくげんかいちくせき「３RD」 kinryoku genkai chikuseki 「３RD (kanji: hakkei)」 Muscle strength accumulation limit of the 3rd (read as: Fa Jin)

1 による ni yoru And by doing that...

2-3 風圧発散 ふうあつはっさん fuuatsu Wind Pressure Emanation

1 デラウェア DERAUEA Delaware

2 スマッシュ SUMASSHU Smash

tagline No.412　史上の最狂のヒーロー　堀越耕平 ナンバー412　しじょうさいきょうのヒーロー　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 412  shijou saikyou no HIIROO   Horikoshi Kouhei No. 412 History's Craziest Hero  Kouhei Horikoshi

1 ハハッ HAHA "Haha!"

2 極致だな緑谷‼︎ きょくちだなみどりや‼︎ kyokuchi da na Midoriya!! "That's peak*, Midoriya!" *(Note: The word Tomura uses here to describe Izuku's use of his quirks means "ultimate, extreme, pinnacle, acme.")

3 「崩壊」の予測範囲ごと 「ほうかい」のよそくはんいごと 「houkai」 no yosoku han'i goto The entire predicted area of Decay

4 風圧で抉り飛ばしやがった ふうあつでえぐりとばしやがった fuuatsu de eguri tobashiyagatta he gouged out with wind pressure.

5 伝播の媒体自体を減らして でんぱのばいたいじたいをへらして denpa no baitai jitai wo herashite By reducing the medium of transmission itself,

6 進行を限りなく弱体化…！ しんこうをかぎりなくじゃくたい��…！ shinkou wo kagiri naku jakutaika...! the progress [of Decay] will weaken without limit...!

7 ーーだが --daga "--But"

8 その場凌ぎ！ そのばしのぎ！ sono bashinogi! "[that's only] a stopgap measure!"

1 何度でも触れてやるよ なんどでもふれてやるよ nando demo furete yaru yo I'll touch you however many times!

2 土煙が つちけむりが tsuchi kemuri ga The dust cloud

3 散っていかない ちっていかない chitte ikanai isn't dispersing.

4 なるほど‼︎ naruhodo!! "I see!!"

1 「煙幕」に「変速」"一速"を付与！滞留させる！ 「６TH」に「２ND」"ロー"をふよ！たいりゅうさせる！ 「6TH (kanji: enmaku)」 ni 「2ND (kanji: hensoku)」 "ROO" wo fuyo! tairyuu saseru! Confer the 2nd's (read as: Gear Shift's) low gear to the 6th (read as: Smokescreen)!

2 視界を遮断して「煙幕」を展開 しかいをしゃだんして「６TH」をてんかい shikai wo shadan shite 「6TH」 wo tenkai To block his vision, deploy the 6th (read as Smokescreen).

3 死柄木の「危機感知」を鳴らし続ける しがらきの「４TH」をならしつづける Shigaraki no 「4TH」 wo narashi tsudzukeru Keep sounding [the alarm] of Shigaraki's 4th (read as: Danger Sense).

1 その間にーー‼︎ そのあいだにーー‼︎ sono aida ni--!! And in the meantime--!

2 「危機感知」に頼るリスクはよく知ってる！ 「４TH」にたよるリスクはよくしってる！ 「4TH」 ni tayoru RISUKU wa yoku shitteru! I understand well the risks of relying on the 4th (read as: Danger Sense).

3 "溜め"を作る為にここまで…！ "ため"をつくるためにここまで…！ "tame" wo tsukuru tame ni koko made...! "All of this to create a stockpile...!"

4 けど…９代目‼︎ けど…９だいめ‼︎ kedo...9daime!! "But...Ninth!!"

5 死柄木は しがらきは Shigaraki wa Shigaraki

6 「サーチ」でこっちがーー‼︎ 「SAACHI」 de kocchi ga--!! [can see you] over here with Search--!!

7 ぐあっ gua "Gwah!"

8 見えてんだけど？ みえてんだけど？ mietenda kedo? "But I can see you?"

9 位置も いちも ichi mo "Your location, too."

10 弱点も じゃくてんも jakuten mo "And your weaknesses."

11 この目で見た人の情報100人まで丸わかり！ この目でみたひとのじょうほう100にんまでまるわかり！ kono me de mita hito no jouhou 100nin made maru wakari! I completely know information about up to 100 people I see with these eyes!

1 おまえ息できてないだろ おまえいきできてないだろ omae iki dekitenai daro "You aren't able to breathe, right?"

2 "変速"の反動‼︎切れた！ "へんそく"のはんどう‼︎きれた！ "hensoku" no handou!! kireta! "Gear Shift's recoil!! It cut off!"

3 さっきの"溜め攻撃"も さっきの"ためこうげき"も sakki no "tame kougeki" mo "That stockpile attack from before also"

4 そう乱発できるモンじゃないな そうらんぱつできるモンじゃないな sou ranpatsu dekiru MON ja nai na "isn't something you can fire over and over."

5 腱や筋肉を内から直接補強… けんやきんにくをうちからちょくせつほきょう… ken ya kinniku wo uchi kara chokusetsu hokyou... "Direct reinforcement of your tendons and muscles from within..."

6 肌から透けて見える黒鞭が物語ってる はだからすけてみえるそれがものがたってる hada kara sukete mieru sore (kanji: kuro muchi) ga monogatatteru "That (read as: Black Whip) that's transparently visible through your skin tells the story."

7 まともにくらえばさすがに俺も無事ではなかったかもな まともにくらえばさすがにおれもぶじではなかったかもな matomo ni kuraeba sasuga ni ore mo buji de wa nakatta kamo na "If I had taken that [hit] normally, maybe even I wouldn't have been all right."

8 守るもんが多くて大変だなァ緑谷 まもるもんがおおくてたいへんだなァみどりや mamoru mon ga ookute taihen da naA Midoriya "It's tough when there are so many things to protect, right, Midoriya?"

9 …だからって… ...dakara tte... "...I said that's why..."

10 泣いていたあの少年を…諦めはしない…！ ないていたあのしょうねんを…あきらめはしない…！ naite ita ano shounen wo...akirame wa shinai...! "I won't give up...on that boy who was crying...!"

1 人は狭い窓から世界を解釈しようとする… ひとはせまいまどからせかいをかいしゃくしようとする… hito wa semai mado kara sekai wo kaishaku shiyou to suru... "People try to interpret the world through a narrow window..."

2 どうなった⁉︎ dou natta!? "What happened!?"

3 見えない みえない mienai "I can't see."

4 遠くに行っちゃった とおくにいっちゃった tooku ni icchatta "They went off far away."

5 理解のできない物事に理由をつくって楽になろうとする りかいのできないものごとにりゆうをつくってらくになろうとする rikai no dekinai monogoto ni riyuu wo tsukutte raku ni narou to suru "They try to make things easier by making up reasons for the things they don't understand."

6-7 おまえは自分の狭い解釈に俺を落とし込みたいだけだ おまえはじぶんのせまいかいしゃくにおれをおとしこみたいだけだ omae wa jibun no semai kaishaku ni "You just want to fit me into your own narrow interpretation."

8 見えてんだろ みえてんだろ mietendaro "You can see it, right?"

9 俺に"幽霊ども"が見えてるように…OFAを通じて俺の中が… おれに"ゆうれいども"がみえてるように…ワン・フォー・オールをつうじておれのなかが… ore ni "yuurei-domo" ga mieteru you ni...WAN FOO OORU wo tsuujite ore no naka ga... "It's like you ghosts can see me...[see] inside me through One For All..."

10 だから煙の中おまえも俺を捕捉できた… だからけむりのなかおまえもおれをほそくできた… dakara kemuri no naka omae mo ore wo hosoku dekita... "That's why you even were able to catch me in the smoke..."

11 しっかり見ろ しっかりみろ shikkari miro "Look carefully."

1 泣いていた少年はもうとっくに乗り超えた ないていたしょうねんはもうとっくにのりこえた naite ita shounen wa mou tokku ni norikoeta "The boy who was crying already got over it long ago."

2 どこまでも解釈を拡大し どこまでもかいしゃくをかくだいし doko made mo kaishaku wo kakudai shi "I expanded my interpretation without end,"

3 少年は死柄木弔になった！ おれはおれになった！ ore (kanji: shounen) wa ore (kanji: Shigaraki Tomura) ni natta! "and I (read as: the boy) became me (read as: Tomura Shigaraki)!"

4 俺ぁ何も困っちゃいないんだよ！ おれぁなにもこまっちゃいないんだよ！ orea nani mo komacchainainda yo! "I am not in any kind of trouble!" (Note: Tomura means he's not a person who needs to be saved from anything.)

5-6 僕はあの子を救けたい ぼくはあのこをたすけたい boku wa ano ko wo tasuketai (kanji: sukuetai) I want to save that kid!

1 諦めろ あきらめろ akiramero "Give up."

2-3 救いようの無い人間はいるんだよ出久くん すくいようのないにんげんはいるんだよいずくくん sukuiyou no nai ningen wa irunda yo Izuku-kun "There are people who cannot be saved, Izuku-kun."

4 君の掲げたヒーロー観にとって きみのかかげたヒーローかんにとって kimi no kakageta HIIROO kan ni totte When it comes to your views on heroes,

5 こいつは最大の壁であり こいつはさいだいのかべであり koitsu wa saidai no kabe de ari this guy is the biggest wall.

6 超えなくていい壁だ こえなくていいかべだ koenakute ii kabe da It's a wall you don't have to climb over.

7 一撃で跡形もなく消すしかない いちげきであとかたもなくけすしかない ichigeki de atokata mo naku kesu shika nai "There's no choice but to erase him with one blow until no trace remains."

8 堪えろ出久くん！ こらえろいずくくん！ koraero Izuku-kun! "Bear with it, Izuku-kun!"

9 溜めろ‼︎さっき以上に！ ためろ‼︎さっきいじょうに！ tamero!! sakki ijou ni! "[Gather a] stockpile!! Even more than before!"

10 嫌だ… いやだ… iya da... "No..."

11-12 じゃあ何であんな寂しい過去を…心に据えてたんだよ…‼︎ じゃあなんであんなさびしいかこを…こころにすえてたんだよ…‼︎ jaa nande anna sabishii kako wo...kokoro ni suetetanda yo...!! "So then, why [did you fix*] such a lonely past...into your heart...!!" (Note: By "fix" here, Izuku means "place, lay as a foundation." Essentially: "Why is such a lonely past in such a foundational position inside your heart?")

13 蓋を…しただけだろーが… ふたを…しただけだろーが… futa wo...shita dake daroo ga... Literally "A lid...you just put one on, didn't you..." Contextually "You just...covered it all up, didn't you..."

1 守れなかったモンを見ないフリして まもれなかったモンをみないフリして mamorenakatta MON wo minai FURI shite You pretend not to see those you couldn't protect,

2 傷んだ上から蓋をして いたんだうえからふたをして itanda ue kara futa wo shite and covered up their pain from above. (Note: The official translation of the above two lines is: "You pretended not to see those you couldn't protect and swept their pain under the rug.")

3 その蓋ブッ壊れるまで そのふたブッこわれるまで sono futa BUkkowareru made "Until that cover breaks,"

4 殴るのを止めない なぐるのをやめない naguru no wo yamenai (kanji: tomenai) "I won't stop striking at it."

1 だから dakara "That's why"

2 反対していたんだ はんたいしていたんだ hantai shite itanda "I reversed [my stance]."

3-4 "宿敵を救けたい"なんてイカレた幻想に俺たちの歩みを委ねるのか？ "しゅくてきをたすけたい"なんてイカレたげんそうにおれたちのあゆみをゆだねるのか？ "shukuteki wo tasuketai (kanji: sukuetai)" nante IKAREta gensou ni ore-tachi no ayumi wo yudaneru no ka? We’re gonna entrust our footsteps to this crazy fantasy of ‘I want to save our nemesis’?

5 平和ボケした傲慢な考えだと へいわボケしたごうまんなかんがえだと heiwa BOKE shita gouman na kangae da to "It's the arrogant idea of a peace-loving fool."

6 だが裡から見てきて だがうちからみてきて daga uchi kara mite kite But when I began to look within, (Note: It's not clear from these words if Kudou is talking about looking within Izuku or looking within himself. The imagery of the rest of the page could imply that he's looking within Izuku.)

7 わかった wakatta I understood.

8 この少年は このしょうねんは kono shounen wa This boy

9 縋っているのだと すがっているのだと sugatte iru no da to is one who clings [to others].

10 嫌悪すべき人間だろうと けんおすべきにんげんだろうと ken'o subeki ningen darou to Whether it's a person he should hate

11 無個性の人間だろうと むこせいのにんげんだろうと mukosei no ningen darou to or a person who lacks individuality*, *(Note: This word, mukosei, is the MHA world's term for "quirkless," but whenever it means "quirkless," it is written in quotes in the manga. Here the word is not in quotes, so it should mean what the word mukosei normally means in Japanese: "a lack of personality/individuality." I think here the word may be intended to refer to the other kid with the long fingers who also follows Katsuki around.)

12-13 その奥には等しく人の心があるのだと そのおくにはひとしくひとのこころがあるのだと sono oku ni wa hitoshiku hito no kokoro ga aru no da to he is one who [believes that] deep down people have the same* hearts. *(Note: This sentence is awkward to write out in English because the word "same" is actually an adverb in Japanese, like "similarly, equally." It means something like "All people are equal in that they similarly have human hearts.")

14-15 信じたいのだ しんじたいのだ shinjitai no da He is one who wants to trust*. *(Note: This word could also be translated as "wants to believe [in others].") (Update: I now believe this line should be translated as "He is one in whom I want to believe. Please see here for a bit more detail.)

1 …… "......"

2 キレイ事は…嫌いじゃない キレイごとは…きらいじゃない KIREI goto wa...kirai ja nai "I don't hate...such idealism*." (*Note: This word in Japanese literally means "lip service." This is the same word used by All Might (in a flashback) and Mirio in chapter 367 when talking about how heroes have to talk the talk of positive thinking before making those ideals into a reality.)

3 今から俺の言う通りにしろ いまからおれのいうとおりにしろ ima kara ore no iu toori ni shiro "From now on, do as I say."

4 おまえに賭けるよ９代目 おまえにかけるよ９だいめ omae ni kakeru yo 9daime "[I'll] bet on you, Ninth."

5 OFAを手放すんだ ワン・フォー・オールをてばなすんだ WAN FOO OORU wo tebanasunda Let go of One For All.

tagline ２代目の秘策ーーーしかしそれは… ２だいめのひさくーーーしかしそれは… 2daime no hisaku---shikashi sore wa... The Second's secret plan--but that...

[ghoooooooooooooooost]

(カエラズの遊園地 spoilers)

some fun character bits from the new dm1 amusement park dlc (based on my reading skill lmao so not guaranteed 100% accuracy but i think i understood most things):

(mashita's office)

shou goes to mashita's office to clean up n do chores 2 days a week. also, mashita has a shrine in there because moe told him to get one (to protect him from being cursed). mashita drinks expensive-looking brandy in his office at night. he drinks it straight

mashita has a drawer with a memo that says "don't touch" in red pen, n opening it sets off an alarm that can only be stopped if you hit the switches in the right order (moe smashes it instead)

mashita's lighter is from his old senpai (a photo of him with said senpai is in the alarm drawer. moe thinks that pic must be important to him; he's smiling in it)

(daimon's office)

moe says she heard (a rumor?) that daimon was a band member in the past. she wonders if he performs for his patients, since he has a guitar in his office. she also says it looks like he has a lot of western music records

there's a specific music track for his room

at some point daimon casually picks up a snake n asks moe if she wants to touch it. turns out it's just shed snake skin

the banter between moe n everyone else is really funny but there's also rlly nice moments between her n the others, esp daimon. one part that stuck out to me was when daimon was telling her to let the adults handle this n she argued with him until he gave in; he responds with "please lend me your strength, watanabe-kun"

also multiple moments where we see how yashiki influenced her

spoiler + body horror cgs under the cut

i really like what they did with mashita (like leading up to it) n also these cgs r so pretty. he gets tased

kaerazu-sama is also pretty to me. and she's HUGE

this dlc was fun... unfortunately it still has an unnecessary fanservice moment (very skippable this time too) but i hope they keep going in this general direction instead of whatever was going on in the writer's room for dm2

[blakbonnet]

S2 Spoilers from the articles so far

- Lucius has a brooding, bitter arc

- Mary and Anne are murder wives, literally, retired and plotting new ways to kill each other everyday and keeping the relationship fresh

- Ed and Stede go on a double date (possible the chair smashing scene)

- the phrase "snuffed out" was used for tealoranges in one of the articles, make of that what you will, hints of possible poly Jim x Olu x Archie maybe

- Izzy redemption arc, meaty storyline

- Pirate Queen Zheng Si Yao vs Prince Richard (Errol shand) is the major background story

- Episode 6 is major! Romance and otherwise and has loads of emotional tears shed

- "Susan" Ruibo's character (Queen Zheng) is a bit of a frenemy and really lauded for her part

- The crux is romance and Ed and Stede's romance in particular

- The only major complaint seems to be that it's very fanservice, so okay lmaoo good

- Very suicidal Ed in the first few episodes but some of it is balanced by humour but again, fairly dark

- Ed does seem to be doing direct violence and is pretty down in the dumps, raiding everything he sees, killing bystanders etc

- Reunion is pretty early on (ep 3 maybe) and there's plenty of banter between Ed and Stede

- Archie is a super fun character who looks up to Ed a bit and has great chemistry with everyone else

- Toxic workplace style discussion about Ed's management

- Ed plays mindgames with the crew when he's not maiming them apparently and it's pretty angsty and funny

- Stede is working at Spanish Jackie with the crew cause he's broke af

- Stede's major plot is getting to Ed and finding Ed and he writes him a love letter every morning while fantasising about him at night in the form of wild dreams absjsjd

- Stede has a bunch of bitchy moments and one liners

- Swede has found true love with Jackie

- Ed cuts more of Izzy's toes (at least 2 more)

- Izzy mediates Ed and Stede's relationship

[the-little-ewok]

Collateral Damage

Poe Dameron x G!N reader

Rating : M

Wordcount : 6800 (ish)

Warnings : Friends to lovers, sort of slow burn I suppose, angst, fluff, reader has a fear of flying, arguing, vague illusions to Poe's torture by the FO, vague mention of parental death (Poe's mom), mentions of panic attacks.

Summary : Poe finds out you are scared to fly, and makes it a personal challenge to fix that. Only spending so much time together, causes some complications.

A/N : there's a few bits here that mention Poe's past as a child which is from Freefall however there are no direct Freefall spoilers contained, and it isn't necessary to have read it to enjoy this.

To the anon that requested an angst to fluff Poe fic...I hope you enjoy!

~

"Poe, please don't look at me like that!" You beg.

"Like what?" Poe gives you a genuinely confused look, as though he hasn't been staring at you for the past ten minutes like you're a particularly complex puzzle he needs to work out.

"Like there's something wrong with me," you sigh, twisting the mug of tea nervously in your hands.

"I never said that! But seriously? You're scared? Of flying? This is a joke right?"

"I just think if we were made to fly we'd have wings is all." You shrug, trying to be nonchalant as you sip your drink, your fingers pressing hard into the china as you try to ignore his shock. You don't look up but you can feel his eyes burning into you.

"How did I not know this? How have you hidden it from me of all people! I'm equally impressed and offended." You suspect by his tone he's more offended than impressed, but it was never truly your intention to hide it from him. The secret just sort of… happened.

When you were children you barely knew Poe, not until after he returned to Yavin, his eyes a little darker than they had been before, his steps a little more calculated, though no less bold. When you started helping Kes out around the little farm he bought, you had gotten to know Poe a lot better. Barely tolerating him at first, before you fell into an close friendship. It had been easy enough to deny his requests to go flying with him in the early days, especially given the amount of trouble he got into.

Then when you were older Poe seemed to flit in and out of your life. Between the academy, the navy, and now the resistance, sometimes it seemed like he was never around.

But he always reappeared eventually. He came back to Yavin sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks. He used your back garden like his personal shipping yard, but you never had the heart to tell him off about it, despite the fact you had smashed more than your fair share of crockery in shock at the sudden noise of a roaring engine coming down on your house.

Everytime he asked if you wanted to go flying you found some excuse not to, sometimes elaborate ones you aren't even sure Poe believed. You assume perhaps he thought you were avoiding spending time alone with him, which was in part true some of the time.

You could have told him the truth, but the way he lit up when he talked about flying — the freedom of it, the adventure of it — had always made the words dry in your mouth. He couldn't possibly understand, and you knew he would react, well, exactly as he had.

"I didn't! You never asked, and it never came up in conversation. It shouldn't have tonight. It's irrelevant. I don't need to fly," you shrug stubbornly, wanting to get away from the topic if only to stop the quizzical gaze he's fixed you with since it came up.

"But-but there's a whole galaxy you're missing out on!" He splutters, still wide eyed with shock. "You can't tell me you want to spend the rest of your life on Yavin."

"I like Yavin!"

Poe gives a huff of disbelief at you, folding his arms.

"Liar."

"You know Poe, not all of us have the need to fly out into the night and get blown to pieces like you," you sigh, rubbing a hand over your eyes, frustrated at his reaction. "Anyways it's late. I should go."

Getting up you put your mug in the sink and grab your jacket, intent on leaving and finding some way to avoid this topic for the next however many years, probably forever.

"Hey, hey, don't go. I'm sorry, okay?" Poe begs getting up and taking a gentle grip of your arm to prevent you moving. You ignore the fire that ignites your skin where his fingers are wrapped loosely around your arm.

"Tell me what scares you? About flying I mean? Let me try and understand," he pleads.

Taking a breath you sigh. How could you explain it to someone who spent their whole life up there? How could you explain it to someone who lived and breathed the freedom of the flight?

"Pilots die, all the time. Things go wrong, fights, pirates, technical failures…" you trail off with a wave of your hand, freeing your arm from his gentle grip, not used to his touch. "I just…can't stand the thought of dying alone out there in the cold. It's hard enough worrying about that happening to you."

"You sound like my dad," Poe sighs quietly. "He didn't want me flying either. Not after my mom."

Reaching back out you squeeze his hand briefly, knowing that while the relationship between Poe and Kes had somewhat mended over the years, some cracks ran too deep to ever be fully healed.

"You know, Kes never shuts up about you flying. Always talking about what a good pilot you are and how your mom would be so proud of you, how you fly just like her. I swear it's all I heard for weeks the last time you were here."

Poe falls quiet for a long moment, deep in thought, a frown etched deep into his brow.

"He's proud of you, Poe. I know he struggles to say it sometimes, but he is," you offer gently.

Poe waves a hand nonchalantly, as though it doesn't bother him, but you know it does.

"Well you know my dad likes to keep things to himself, but apparently not from you," he eyes you somewhat suspiciously. "He likes you, you know. He told me once I should marry you. Imagine that, us, married."

He lets out a snort of a laugh as he shakes his head at the thought. You want to make a joke about it, you want to laugh it off and tell him you'd never agree to it even if he asked, but the spark of feelings you've so carefully navigated all these years flared to life suddenly and in full force at his words.

There's always been something between you, something a little more than friendship, something you both know can't be. Something both of you have avoided talking about for a long time now.

Perhaps when you were younger maybe you could have figured something out, but Poe was hardly ever around and now, well now your worlds were too far apart. Yours here on the ground, his far off in the stars. It was better not to prod too hard at open wounds, but Poe's laughter at the thought of you together, still cuts deeply.

Something must flicker across your expression because his amusement dies and Poe gives you a half smile.

"It's just, you know, you're seeing someone. Aren't you?"

"It didn't work out." You shrug as though you don't care. The truth was it never worked out, because you would always be in love with someone else. How were you supposed to give your heart away when at any given moment the one that makes it beat could drop from the sky without warning?

"Oh," he sounds genuinely sad which only drives the knife further in. You drop your eyes from his, pulling at a loose thread on your jacket as he continues. "I'm sorry. You'll meet someone else though! Although maybe…. Off this planet?"

You sigh and roll your eyes. Really you shouldn't be surprised that he found a way to spin the topic right back to your issues with flying, which you suppose was better than your love life so at least there was that.

"Oh come on. You can't be scared if you haven't tried it! Lemmie take you!" Poe sounds like an excited child on life day. Clearly the thought of conquering your fear appealed to him.

"Absolutely not! I've seen the way you fly!"

"Did you not just say even my dad thinks I'm good at flying? And besides," he leans on the counter, a shit eating grin plastering his face, "didn't you hear I'm the best pilot in the resistance?"

You roll your eyes at his cocky statement.

"Poe, I've heard a great deal of things about you over the years, not all of them I can believe and most of them I've had to defend your good name against!"

He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head like a curious loth cat.

"Like what?"

You quickly go through the ment rollerdex of things you've heard, deciding to pick out your favourite.

"Like… the time you apparently almost married a Hutt."

Poe opens his mouth and then closes it again, suddenly becoming very interested in a tin of tea on the side. He picks it up, rolling it between his palms, purposely not looking at you.

"Well, really that wasn't even my fault," he mumbles eventually, realising you aren't going to fill the expectant silence.

He can't seriously have done that? The ridiculous story can't possibly be the truth?

"You have to be kidding me! I got into the biggest argument that you wouldn't be so stupid to get into something with them. Do I even want to know the real story?"

You had vehemently defended your friend, arguing well into the night that while yes, Poe was reckless, and yes sometimes he spoke without thinking, and yes sometimes trouble found him, you were still absolutely sure the story was completely untrue. You suppose you have a few apologies to make now.

"It's not like I intended to agree to the marriage! It just sort of… happened."

You stare at him, open mouthed waiting for the rest of the story, knowing he won't be able to resist defending himself. But instead of launching into a lengthy explanation he grins, setting the tea down slowly and fixing you with an expression you are all too familiar with. The one he uses when he knows he's about to get something he wants.

"Trade. I'll fly you somewhere. Then I'll tell you."

And there it was. He knew you wanted to know the truth, unable to resist a good story about the far off places he visited and troubles he got into. You should have predicted the bastard would use that against you.

You fold your arms.

"No."

"I'll just fly you to the other side of Yavin? Short trip, in and out."

"No!"

Poe sighs dramatically, pushing himself up off the counter.

"Fine. You drive a hard bargain. I'll tell you the whole story if you let me show you around my ship and tell you how unscary it is to fly. Strictly no piloting."

"Please agree so you can both shut up. It's after midnight, and the noise you two make will bring the first order down on our heads without them even looking!" Kes Dameron booms from the hallway, making both of you jump.

"Sorry dad!" Poe yells while he gives you a grin of victory.

"Sorry Kes! I'm leaving now." With a sigh of resignation you slip on your jacket. "Fine. No flying."

"No flying," Poe agrees with a nod, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers invitingly. You hesitate to take it, but he slides his hand into yours anyway, squeezing your fingers. "I'll walk you home."

You try not to think about how right it feels to have your hand in his.

~

"Poe, Poe," you repeat a little louder as he continues rambling away, pointing to the different parts of his X-Wing, a misty look in his eyes. You're sure you lost him a good while ago, and he hasn't stopped talking long enough for you to explain you have no idea what he's talking about.

"You have to put your hand up to ask a question when I'm teaching," he chides you teasingly. Rolling your eyes you put your hand up, glaring at him when he grins silently at you for a long drawn out moment. Just as your patience breaks, opening your mouth to ask anyway, he cuts in first.

"You have a question?"

"Several," you respond dryly. "Firstly, can you please slow down? I've no idea what you've been talking about for the last twenty minutes. Secondly, I'm pretty sure you've told me about everything that can go wrong and now I want to be near this thing even less. Thirdly -"

"This thing? This thing?" He interupts, his eyes going wide with shock. "This thing is a T-70 X-wing. I've done a lot of work on this thing!"

"I apologise I insulted your ship," you laugh, watching his brows pull together in an annoyed frown. Maker, Flyboys! As cute as he was you couldn't really expect any other reaction.

"Don't apologise to me. Apologise to her!" He points at his ship before he folds his arms stubbornly, as though he's actually serious. You pause for a moment, realising he is serious.

"Thirdly, I don't think this is helping and I'm sure you have better things to be doing," You continue, ignoring his sulk. Poe drops his arms, his expression softening.

"It is helping," he insists. "If you know what can go wrong then you know how to fix it, or how to account for it at the least. Then that part isn't so scary anymore. I promise."

"It doesn't feel like it's helping," you mumble, wrapping your arms around your chest, the low hum of anxiety vibrating under your ribs. "I'm sorry. I'm not being ungrateful. It's very nice of you to do this."

"You don't think I can do it," he grins and you roll your eyes at him for what feels like the thousandth time since he's been back.

"I'm not a challenge," you remind him with a glare.

"You kinda are though," he grins. Trust Poe to see this as some sort of game he can win. "Come on. You can trust me. I know about these things. How'd you think I survived this long?"

"Sheer dumb luck?"

Poe laughs, a deep elated noise that brings a smile to your lips and makes your heart ache with affection. It seems so rare these days that he truly laughs like that, and when he does, here with you, it only makes his inevitable absence harder to swallow.

"Probably a bit of that too," he admits with a shrug. "Okay, new plan."

He plonks himself down on the ground, patting the space in front of him for you. When you're settled opposite him he takes both your hands in his. When you try to pull away, the touch giving a jolt in your chest, he grips your fingers tighter, forcing you to stay with him. It's an all too familiar dance now. You push him away, and he only proceeds to try and hold you closer. When he's here you wish he wouldn't, but when he's gone, you ache for his easy familiarity.

He gives you a genuine open look, and your heart aches a little that he's truly trying to help when you feel so beyond helping.

"What do you think about when you get scared? When you think about being up there. What is it that worries you so much?"

"I guess dying alone?" You suppress a shudder at the thought of floating out there in the darkness, no one to hear you scream for help.

The pilot doesn't even miss a beat before he answers quickly.

"Okay, I'd be with you so that's not a problem. We would die together."

You glare at him, unamused. Ignoring your vehement stare he gestures for you to continue.

"Fine. Being shot out of the sky. Lot of time to think about dying while you're plummeting to the ground."

He gives you a grin, "We both know that's not an issue because I'm a great pilot, so no matter where we are I promise you I'll land safely, all parts intact, especially all the bits I like," he winks and you desperately try to ignore the flare of heat on your skin. "I've done it so many times I could do it in my sleep! Next problem."

"Kidnapped by pirates." You shoot quickly.

"They'll give you back after half an hour." Poe snorts with laughter when you reach out and slap his arm hard.

"Asshole," you grumble, fighting back a smile.

He grins at you, clearly enjoying himself at your expense and while you should mind his teasing, you find it hard to care, not when his eyes are lit up with genuine joy.

"You are really not helping," you laugh eventually, shaking your head. "I'm a lost cause."

"Not entirely, just mostly. I mean none of these are good reasons to be scared," Poe smiles and you have to admit it chafes you a little that he still doesn't seem to understand.

"I never said my fear was rational."

"It's not entirely irrational either," Poe acknowledges with a shrug, finally allowing you to pull your hands out of his while he taps his chin in thought. You curl your fingers into your palms, willing away the memory of his touch.

"What you need is a distraction!" Poe proclaims brightly. For a shocked moment you think he's talking about a distraction from him, which is entirely exactly what you need. But he keeps talking and you realise it's nothing like that, although he inadvertently makes you distracted anyway, from flying at least.

"Yeah, something to take your mind off getting up there."

You shake your head, knowing it won't work. Suddenly this whole thing seems like a bad idea. Poe wasn't one to give up, and yet over the years you've tried just about everything to get over your fear. A weariness starts to creep in, encouraging you to make your excuses and leave.

"I doubt anything would distract me that much. Anyway, I think we should do something else. Flying isn't that important." You try, knowing it's hopeless now you've encouraged him this much.

"What if I flew naked?" He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. His constant blatant flirting is starting to take a toll, and you can't muster even a smile this time. He knows, yet he does it anyway. It's infuriating sometimes, purposely poking and prodding when you're just trying to get by without spilling your heart all over the grass.

"Coming from the person who laughed at the notion of us being married, I don't see how you think I'd care about that." You don't quite mean to bite it out the way you do, but Poe ignores your attitude and leans back on his arms, gazing at you.

"Yeah, because we'd argue all day long about everything. I'd be messy, and you'd want a tidy house, we would fight over what to have for dinner, because you won't believe I'm the better cook, I'd want to paint the walls blue, but you'd want green. You'd want to live here and I wouldn't." He waves his hand, indicating that there would be a longer list of issues if he continued. "The thought of us being married is funny because it would be chaotic, not because I don't love you."

The words hit you like a shot, and judging by the look of fear on the pilot's face he probably hadn't thought them through before they left his mouth.

"Guess the cats out of the bag now. Well, suppose it was never really fully in the bag anyway," he mumbles, running a hand through his messy curls, before he stares up at the sky. "I mean, I know we've never….I know we've never gone down that road, but you know I've always had a soft spot for you."

You knew. Of course you knew. You both held an affection for each other, but you also know it wasn't meant to be. Maker knows you've spent your life trying to get over him, and Poe… well he never breathed a word about his feelings in the matter. You assumed he had moved on some time ago. If his list of conquests was anywhere half true, he moved on quite well.

You avoid his gaze, looking down at the dirt. "Love is a lot different than a soft spot. Seems funny you never mentioned that before."

Poe swallows, sitting back up properly and reaching to take your hands, you snatch them back before he has a chance, a swell of anger starting in your chest. There is no need for him to tell you this. You don't want him to tell you this. It won't make any difference to say it out loud.

"I knew I couldn't stay so what was the point? You've said yourself how much you love Yavin. Who was I to ask you to give it all up? You deserve someone who could be there for you, where you wanted to be. You still deserve someone like that."

"So why bring it up when you know it isn't you?" You snap angrily, getting to your feet, panic pulsing through your veins. While you've had this conversation a hundred times in your head, in reality you have no idea how to react. Suddenly the open wound becomes a sinkhole, and every wall you've placed around your feelings starts to crumble in. Your chest constricts with panic. He can't do this now. Not after all this time. You won't be able to rebuild what he's torn down. This will burn your friendship to the ground.

"Because I'm selfish," the pilot admits, jumping up and following you as you storm across the garden towards the house, the flaring pain in your chest getting worse with each word that leaves his mouth. You won't talk about this. You can't talk about this.

"Yes, you are! You blaze in and out of my life and everytime I think I might have a chance to mend myself, you come tearing down from the sky. Maybe it is about time to actually have this conversation so we can both move on!" You spin on your heel to face him, stepping back when he reaches for you again.

If he touches you now you won't ever be able to let him go, he'll find a way to calm you down and you don't want to be calm. You want to be angry. You want to yell, scream, and let out every feeling you've kept locked inside. You want him to feel even a small spark of what he's done to you for years. You need to be angry.

"Why can't we just be together now?" He interrupts your rant.

"What's the point, Poe? You know I won't leave, I can't leave. And you can't stay. It won't work and we both know it."

"We don't know that because we haven't tried!" He implores passionately. "You can come with me! The resistance would be lucky to have you. If you just try! If you just let me show you. I promise it's not so scary, and then we can go anywhere we like!"

"I can't do it, Poe. I just can't and there's no point trying to make you of all people understand that."

You turn to leave but this time he's quicker than you, reaching out and catching hold of your wrist.

"So this is how it ends is it? We dance around this for years and then we just do what? Give up?" The pain lacing his voice is enough to make your lip tremble as you bite back the tears.

"You're right. We've danced around this for years because we both know it isn't going to work! Why now? Why after all this time decide to drag all this up now?"

"Because we are in the middle of a war. Because I don't know what's going to happen to me tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Because I might not be here to tell you this, and for some reason it kills me that I might be gone and you would never know that I loved you. I've waited years for you to find someone who makes you happy, someone who gives you everything I can't, but everytime I come here I know it hurts you because it hasn't happened. And I need you to know that someone, that I, love you. I don't think I can just walk away this time." He sounds resigned and it crumbles away every last brick you had to protect yourself. Poe doesn't think he's going to survive this war. In the end, he knows he's going to leave you anyway.

It makes you angry to hear him talk that way. Poe was the upbeat one. Poe was the one who always figured a way out. He doesn’t just accept the inevitable. And you don't need him concerned about you either.

"Well you should just walk away, because I don't need your pity!" You yell, feeling the hot tears escaping your eyes.

"That's not what it is!" Poe takes a breath, clearly trying to calm himself and de-escalate the situation. "I'm just trying to be honest with you for once. I can't just leave and say nothing this time."

"You mean like you have every time you disappear into the sky for months on end?" You laugh bitterly.

The pilot swallows, his eyes searching yours, pleadingly, begging you to understand why now, but the anger still swells in your chest.

"I've always come back to you. Every time I can. For Makers sake do you think I'd be here so often if you weren't?"

When you say nothing Poe frowns, reading your expression all too clearly.

"You won't even consider coming with me? You won't even try?"

You wrap your arms around your waist, holding yourself together as you shake your head.

"I can't. We can't and you know it. I…can't leave. I can't leave," you repeat in a whisper, shaking your head, the tears flowing fast down your cheeks.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," Poe apologies softly, reaching out to take your arms, drawing you close to him. You try to fight it, pulling your body away, but Poe ignores you, holding you tight against him until you stop fighting, allowing him to hug you tightly.

"I know you can't leave," he admits, letting you go to cup your cheek, his palm warm against your cooled skin, his thumb sweeping away tears. "You don't have to, okay? Just say the word. Say the word and I'll be here, with you. I'll stay right here so we can try. Tell me that's what you want. Tell me you feel the same and I'll do it."

You know what he's offering, and you know he can't fulfil it. He's speaking without thinking it through, in desperation, trying to fix things, to fix the damage his words have done.

You wish you could accept it, but the thought of Poe grounded, here, a place he fought so hard to escape, causes an ache in your chest. You know it can't be that way.

Maybe he would give it all up for you, but it would never be enough. Not for him. Eventually the cracks would form, and he'd be gone, and leave you so much more broken than you already were.

"Tell me you feel the same," he whispers, leaning into you.

"Don't do this," you beg softly, bring your hands up to rest on his arms to push him away. You can't seem to make your body follow through with the action.

"Then stop me," Poe challenges, his hand sliding around the back of your neck. He's so close you can feel his breath against your lips, the warmth of his body against yours.

Maker, he was going to break your heart. He won't stay, he can't stay. You won't make him do that, not for you. But you're sick of fighting it, sick of trying to pretend. He's here, with you, wanting you. Just this once, once can't hurt.

The screeching beep of his comms stops you both, the sudden insistent noise cutting through the tension and your own clouded thoughts, making you step away from him quickly. Poe lets you go, his expression pained, though he doesn't move to answer the incoming call.

Swallowing hard you gesture to his pocket, refusing to meet his gaze, fearful of what you might find there.

"You should get that."

"Yeah," he nods distractedly, taking a breath and fishing the comm out. He holds it in his hands, glaring at it before his gaze flickers back to you. "Can we talk later?"

You hesitate initially but then nod. Later gave you time to think, to process everything, to try to explain to him why this can't be. Maybe you can salvage your friendship after some time apart.

A tiny voice in your head whispers the vicious truth. It was too late for that.

It's less than an hour before he leaves again, back on urgent business for the resistance. You hadn't opened the door when he came to say goodbye. You hadn't answered when he asked if you wanted him to stay, and you hadn't the strength to smile and see him off this time. He left you with the memory of his muffled voice, promising he will come back, promising he'll figure out a way to make this work, begging you to think, to try.

For once you're grateful he's gone. At least he isn't around to see the damage.

~

The tea Kes Dameron had pressed into your hands has long since gone cold as you stare out at the grass, little shoots growing where previously a star fighter engine had burnt them away, one that so far hadn't returned, and perhaps never would.

There's a sigh behind you, a creak of the porch steps as Kes sits down next to you. The older man had come to help you fix the flickering light in the kitchen, something you'd have once asked Poe how to fix, allowing him to instruct you via comlink, teasing and laughing at your questions and frustrations. But you hadn't spoken to Poe, not in months now, too ashamed and regretful of your behaviour, and too fearful of what speaking with him may bring up.

"He was asking about you again earlier. You can't keep avoiding his comms."

You can feel Kes's eyes on you but you refuse to look up from the dent in the grass. You don't need to ask who he means.

"I'm not. Poe calls at bad times."

Kes makes a disbelieving noise, taking the now cold mug out of your hands and setting it down to the side, making you finally look up.

"It's been a bad time for the past two months. What happened between you?" He frowns at you.

"Nothing." It was the truth. In the end nothing had happened, not really. But the almost of it, the almost hurt worse.

You don't want to talk about Poe. You don't want to think about it. But the next question slips out without you being able to stop it.

"How is he?"

Kes lets out a long breath.

"You know Poe, all smiles and reassurances but he hasn't been the same. Not since…" Kes trails off and your stomach gives a now familiar lurch at the memory of Kes turning up at your door, pale and scared, stuttering out that the First Order had captured his son. As far as you know Poe never told Kes what happened in those days he was gone, but if the stories you heard were even half true, you're surprised he made it out alive.

"He needs someone there," Kes continues eventually.

"He has his squadron." You ignore what Kes is implying. It's a conversation you've had a hundred times over now. It makes your chest ache in a now all too familiar way.

"He needs you, and for all your denial you need him. You can't spend your whole life moping around here. I can make the arrangements to get you there. You just have to say the word."

You had tried in the weeks following his departure to do as he asked, to fly. You had walked to the shipping yard every day, listened to the roar of the engines, talked to the pilots, tried with every fibre to set foot on a ship, any ship, but you couldn't do it.

You had come to accept that you were right to distance yourself. There was no way for you to be together.

"Kes, I can't do that. I… me and Poe… we just aren't… our lives don't fit together." The shame burns in your chest that you couldn't be there for him when he needed someone the most, after his escape from the First Order.

Kes scoffs in an all too familiar way. You wonder if Poe knows where he got that reaction from, if he knows how much like his father he can be.

"Don't fit together? You kids," Kes rolls his eyes. "Nothing in this life is ever easy. If you want something enough you'll find a way through it. Poe's mother," he hesitates, the words catching in his throat. It's rare for Kes to mention Shara, but when he does, it always seems it causes him physical pain. The older man swallows hard before he continues, looking up at the sky.

"She was a free spirit like Poe. But she loved with her whole heart, and so does he. He'd give up the world for you. Don't let your fear hold you back. Don't make the same mistake with him that I did. If you do, you may lose him forever."

Kes was right in a way, your fear was holding you back, it always had. You'd always known Poe's heart was in the stars, and your fear would never let you leave the ground. But Poe had offered to give his world up for you — his stars, his resistance, his freedom. Even if he couldn't stick to it, he was willing to try.

Maybe you could try again. For him.

~

Poe is still in his flight suit, his hair damp and messy, helmet clutched in one hand, talking animatedly with another pilot who you vaguely recognise, who apparently knows you straight away. The pilot nudges Poe — who continues to chatter away obviously— before forcefully spinning him around to point at you.

You can tell you are probably the very last person he's expecting. His eyes go wide and he blinks a few times, as though he's imagining you here. He opens and closes his mouth but whatever words he wanted to get out, don't seem to come, or at least you can't hear them across the yard.

You hadn't told him you were coming. In fact, you still hadn't answered a single one of his comms. It's not that you hadn't wanted to talk to him, but more that you hadn't wanted to disappoint him if, in the end, you couldn't go through with it. Getting here had taken weeks, the trip was rearranged three times after you found yourself unable to get on the ship, and in the end Kes had dragged you in himself and tied you into your seat, reasoning that you needed a push. He was probably right, but you would still be having words when you saw him again.

Raising a hand to Poe you give him a small wave, glad that you landed a good few hours before he returned from whatever mission run he was on this time. It had given you time to clean up and compose yourself, for the shaking to finally stop.

You hesitate in the landing bay, unsure if you should go over or stay put. Poe decides for you because the moment you move a foot forward, he runs to you, skidding to a stop almost toe to toe with you.

"Here-you-h-how?" He stutters out looking you over, as though you might have been kidnapped and dragged here against your will. "Is everything okay? What's happened? My dad-"

"Is fine," you cut him off, recognising his rising panic. "Everything's okay at home. I just thought it was about time I came to see you for once." You give him a nonchalant wave of your hand and a shrug, although your stomach feels full of stones as you take in the new scar across his cheek.

"But… you wouldn't even fly with me!" He sputters out, as though that's the most important point.

You give him an apologetic smile.

"Your dad made me realise I needed to be here," you confess, "We heard about what happened. Your dad was worried about you and how…" you were coping after being tortured.

You don't finish the sentence, swallowing hard.

"I was worried about you." You drop your eyes, instead gazing down at his scuffed boots, still feeling ashamed you hadn't been here sooner.

The pilot sighs, "I'd have come to you if you'd just answered my calls. I just thought you didn't want to see me, and then things here got… a bit crazy."

"I know, but the way we left things. I didn't know…I couldn't…I'm sorry. I tried to come, I really did. I couldn't and… I couldn't tell you…I panicked and everything that happened, and what we said, and what I did, and I wanted to be here for you when you were… but I couldn't. I tried but i couldn't do it, and then -"

"Stop, stop, stop," Poe shushes you, pulling you into his arms and holding you against him tightly, while you try to ramble out an explanation, an apology, and confession all in one, the words tumbling together, desperate to escape.

"Shhh stop," he repeats softly, squeezing you against his chest.

It's more than just a friendly hug, it's more than just a greeting. He holds you tighter than he ever has, one hand curled into the back of your shirt while the other grips his helmet, his face buried in your neck, as though he could hide from the world. Your heart aches for him and everything he's been through as you hold him.

You wait for him to ask you questions, to call you out on how you acted, even to tease you for the whole situation.

Instead, "I'm so proud of you," is all he says.

You bite your lip hard to hold back a flow of tears, gripping his flight suit as he squeezes you breathless.

"I can't believe I wasn't your first," he huffs suddenly against your skin.

"What?" You squeak, heat flushing over your skin at the sudden change in conversation.

"Pilot! I wanted to take you on your first flight," He sighs, pulling away to pout at you in the most adorable of ways. It makes you want to laugh at the look of actual disappointment on his face. You hadn't realised it had meant so much to him, then you remember that he had seen you as a challenge and can't help but wonder if it's purely that someone else won, where he lost. You can tease him about it later and find out.

For now you'll sooth his jealousy just a little.

"Does it help if I tell you your dad had to basically restrain me. I cried, had I don't know how many panic attacks, shut my eyes the whole way, and I absolutely never want to do it again?"

Poe considers this for a minute before he grins, "Kinda does… but not the crying or panic bit. Or the fact you don't want to do it again" he clarifies quickly, before you have a chance to tease him about enjoying your misery. "We can work on changing that last part. And I'm still sad you didn't trust me to take you first."

"Well maybe if you didn't fly that barely legal piece of junk X-Wing I'd have-"

He suddenly leans forward and presses his lips to yours, cutting off any further insults you could throw at his ship, and while his kiss takes you by surprise, it's not unwelcome, and you immediately find yourself sinking into it.

The kiss tastes of desperation, of impatience, of longing buried for too long.

You let out a soft moan as his tongue licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You tangle your fingers in his sweat damp curls in the way you've wanted to for so long.

His helmet thumps noisily to the ground when he drops it to wrap both his arms around you this time, pulling your body hard against his. He slides one hand up your back to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as he kisses you passionately.

This time it isn't his comms that interrupt you, but the hollering cheer of his squadron.

You pull apart suddenly, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

Poe gives you an abashed smile, throwing a rude hand gesture to his still cheering comrades, mumbling a soft apology.

"Sorry, I just decided it might be better to skip the talking part this time, since it didn't really work out so well last time."

You can't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling dizzyingly elated at the lingering feel of his lips on yours.

"No, it did not."

Poe grins, drawing you close once more, "now what were you saying about my beautiful custom X-Wing that you are absolutely going to be flying one day?"

You roll your eyes. Flyboys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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