#also i can not take credit for this soulmate au - I saw a post floating around years ago but never came across it in any fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

static-fanatic-1 · 4 years ago

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Tattooed-Uvogin

(Tattoo Soulmate AU- Where tattoos are shared by soulmates, if a soulmate dies then the other looses their ability to have nen and the tattoo disappears. I love soulmate AU's, they're fun. Also when Uvogin gets the spider tattoo he will be 24.)

(Female Reader)

College is usually portrayed in two ways, absolutely fantastic where breaking into song is the norm, or a horrid experience akin to horny Lovecraftian creatures. In this case the song song type of college is the norm.

Most individuals in college receive a tattoo, whether it be their own or their soulmates. Usually it is a happy occasion when that happens. Most would flaunt their new mark and spit out how much they wanted to meet their soulmate, but (y/n) was an exception.

Junior year, the hope of a new age of adulthood quickly coming up. The twenty-two old started to strip. Why strip? Well because she had decided to wait her junior year to get her athletic credit, and because she wanted to see a tattoo if she were to get one. But the first reason is what people think. Practically tearing off the jacket she wore and tossing it onto a bench, (y/n) jumped at the sudden shrieks and hollers from across the room.

"Lilith! Holy shit look!" Deciding to see what the commotion was about, (y/n) leaned over to watch the event unfold. On her lower back, almost covered by her shoulder length blonde hair, was a beautiful koi tattoo. As if swimming the splash of blue, orange and cream colors contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone.

"What?! Oh my god show me!" Lilith squealed, pushing away girls to get to the nearest mirror. The brightest smile decorated her pink lips and when she finally saw the new mark on her shoulder, she waved around her hands and jumped with unrivaled joy. "I can't fucking believe it!"

"Do you think he just turned 21? Like today's his birthday or something?" Another girl exclaimed, staring at the inked shin with awe.

"Probably! Most people get them when they turn 21. God I'm so excited! I'm posting this everywhere to see if someone answers."

More girls crowded around Lilith, the light tapping of gentle fingers bringing (y/n) back to her senses. Turning around the female met with her dearest friend. "What?"

"Ms. Venal will snap at us if we aren't ready, best not to get on her bad side again. She might make us do push-ups for a warm up again." The soft voice and her light brown hair and eyes pairing nicely with her shy personality.

"Oh shit you're right." Swiftly (y/n) moved back to the back of the locker room, pulling off her pants at the same time. Replacing them with gym shorts with the school logo she quickly followed by her favorite shirt.

Grabbing the school shirt she jumped when someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. "(Y/n)! Your back!"

Before (y/n) could protest she was pulled to her friends locker with a hand mirror shoved in her face. Hesitantly she grabbed it and moved it around her face, trying to see what Jessy was talking about. Finally, a large dark tattoo revealed itself on her lower back, spider legs and a white eleven in the center.

"Looks like a spider, but with twelve legs? Weird." Jessy replied, lightly tracing the many legs now inked into her friend's skin. "You seem... disappointed? (Y/n) you good?"

(Y/n) shrugged, surprisingly it was underwhelming compared to what she thought it would be like. I mean the weird spider on her back was the key to finding her soulmate right? Yet it still felt like a normal school day. "Kinda underwhelming I guess."

"Hey (y/n), you got one too? I honestly thought you wouldn't get one." The snarky voice of Lilith echoed in the locker room, a new hand placing itself on (y/n)'s shoulder. "A spider, really?"

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, Jessy moving to put on the last of her clothes. "They probably just like spiders, so what?"

"Looks like they don't know how to count, that's sad." Lilith remarked, poking at the inked flesh. "Didn't you get a tattoo not too long ago, what was it again?"

"A (favorite animal)." (Y/n) mumbled grabbing her school shirt and putting it on.

"Wow, classic."

(Y/n) pretty much had enough of this and turned to the blonde with vigor. Placing a figure on the new koi fish tattoo. "Wow, classic cunt."

The blonde scoffed, but was quickly interrupted when the teacher called out. "Girls, hurry up or you all are going to do more push-ups!"

Lilith mumbles underneath her breath, venomous words that didn't pass (y/n). "Go fuck yourself." She had said.

In a last ditch effort to get some satisfaction, the (h/c) haired girl turned to the blonde and smiled. "After you."

Man school was just dandy.

~~~

For some reason the drive home felt longer than usual, the songs uninteresting and slow. But that didn't stop the sigh of relief when entering her home. Maybe telling her parents about the tattoo would bring up her spirits? They always wanted to see what it would end up being.

"Momma! I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled, letting the fact sink in to any occupants.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, and paused. Her dad, usually sitting with his back straight and glasses on, now held his lenses with his face in his hand. "Hey dad, you're home early. Everything alright?"

Swiftly his head shot up, (h/c) hair messy unlike usual. "Huh? Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine, just a lot of work is all. We're still trying to find who stole Ruby Red, that jewel is worth a few billion Jenny."

The man's daughter pulled a chair and sat down across from him, opening her snack to start eating it. "I still can't believe someone was able to take it, isn't the security pretty high?"

"Yup, and Ruby Red wasn't the only thing they took. They took a few other gems too." Her mother butted in, placing a kiss upon her husband's cheek. "Whoever did it defiantly had help, you're dad placed too many security guards for it to have been one guy."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, the fact it was more than one person sans all too surprising, but how did they get past the armed guards in the first place? "So what exactly happened? Like to the guards I mean."

"Well... that's just it. We don't know." The dad rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built. "They just vanished... poof, gone. No sign of a struggle, no blood, all of it gone."

The mother removed her hand and pulled up a chair, sitting down and taking a sip of whatever is in her mug. "Yeah, pretty crazy stuff. I've been looking through the cameras and I think they have been tampered with. Whoever took the merchandise wasn't a rookie. They knew what they were doing."

"Who do you guys think did it? The mafia?" The daughter asked, looking at both her parents.

"A new group has been floating around, something called the Phantom Troupe. They are pretty much the worst of the worst." The brunette mother replied, placing her cup down and getting more comfortable.

"Worse than the mafia?" (Y/n) questioned.

"Pretty much, this gang took out the entire Kurta clan just a few months ago. They took their eyes and everything." There was a pause, easily taken up by the gravity of the situation her parents were in.

Her father butted in. "Anyway, anything happened at school? How's Jessy doing, she can come over for dinner tonight too. Martha said she was making lobster claws and steak."

"Ah, well, Jessy's doing fine and I'm sure she'd love to come over again. I'll go ahead and text her." (Y/n) pulled out her phone and did just that, asking if her friend wanted to come over again.

"What else, I feel like your hiding something." Martha asked, leaning closer to her daughter with a sly smile.

Small bits of sweat started to form on her brow, right now didn't exactly seem like a good time to talk about an odd tattoo. "Well I cursed someone out, that was fun."

Her dad groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god was it that Lilith bitch again?"

"Edgar!" Martha snapped, slapping the man on his shoulder and she lightly scolded him. The both of them knew their daughters relationship with that girl. All they had to say is if the coward ever threw a punch, to lay her ass on that ground. (Y/n) was still waiting for her to throw it.

A small ping from a phone ringed, the daughter pulling hers out and slightly smiling. At least when Jessy comes over she would have emotional support over the weird tattoo. "Yeah, it was her again. Anyway, mom do you want any help, Jessy said she would come over."

"Sure, honey. I'd like that."

~~~

The air was tense, sweat slowly forming on (y/n)'s brows as her dearest friend babbled on and on about her early day bravery. "Lilith couldn't say a word to us for the rest of the day! It was hilarious." Jessy boasted, laughing at the sense painted in her head.

Though Martha and Edgar looked at their daughter dumbfounded. "Sooo, is there a reason why you didn't tell us about your new tattoo?" The mother asked, leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand.

"Ah, well you know, it's kinda embarrassing."

"Seriously, you didn't tell them?!"

"I said it's embarrassing!" (Y/n) reinstated, moving her hands in front of her face to attempt stopping the forming blush.

"So! Show us!" Martha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

(Y/n) grumbled a bit and stood up from her chair, lightly pulling up the back of her shirt. On her lower back the sideways spider laid, twelve legs spread out for the world to see.

Silence followed, the air thicker than it once was. "Yeah, it's a little weird. Honestly it was underwhelming getting it." (Y/n) tried to release the growing tension with a light laugh, though it didn't do much.

"Y-Yeah, it is a little weird isn't it?" Edgar had replied, moving to lightly trace his fingers on the inked skin. "Well I don't think most people have twelve-legged spiders on their backs so it shouldn't be too difficult to find out who this guy is."

~~~

Those words meant so much now, after seeing the news talk about Ruby Red's disappearance and how it was linked to a group of mass murderers, the words felt heavy.

Changing to homeschooling was the first thing to happen, as having people see such a dangerous tattoo could endanger your family. Hunters would travel far and wide to catch the soulmate of a Phantom Troupe member, to sell or kill them for the highest price tag. So being around other reckless students was a big no-no.

Next was their home, moving to the outskirts of York New city to start fresh, where no one would know who they were. Getting a new job wasn't too difficult for Martha and Edgar, as security personnel was important everywhere.

Though (y/n) herself wasn't allowed a job, too risky they would say. And Jessy, well at least she was still there. The friend would visit every so often to catch up, and texting each other became an everyday occurrence.

It had been five years since that dinner, and now fear and anxiety ruled over (y/n)'s life. Walking on the streets it seemed every passerby was a possible hunter, just waiting to catch her and slit her throat.

(Y/n) could only trust Jessy and her parents.

The ringing of a phone smacked the female from her train of thoughts, papers she was once working on discarded. Picking up the device and placing it on her ear, a sweet voice rang with an excited undertone. "Yo, (y/n). Whatcha up to?"

A delicate smile pulled at the (h/c) haired lips. "Fine, just doing mom and dads paperwork. Kinda the only job they'll let me have."

There a was a light hearted laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well I'm going to have a few days off of work it you want to meet up and have a few drinks. I'll be coming in sometime tomorrow evening if you want to meet up then?"

"I'd love to, I'll just have to ask mom and dad, you know how they are."

"Yeah, can't blame them though. I mean it's scary."

"Yeah... I'll call you a little later with an answer okay? See you later Jessy, tell me when you get here and I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Alright, sounds good to me! Bye-bye!"

"Bye." Her smile faded when the phone call ended, at least it wouldn't be too bad. Now she just had to get on her knees and beg her parents.

Searching through the apps on the phone she ended up on the calling one, but paused. 'I'll just ask them when they get home, I'll drive over there soon.' Tossing the electronic on her bed (y/n) sighed and leaned back in her seat.

~~~

After plenty of begging and a semi-long drive to the airport, the now ecstatic girls drove around the city to wherever this bar was.

"Okay okay, (y/n), don't get mad at me but I invited a few other friends." Jessy timidly said, scrunching her body as close as possible to her seat.

"Who?" Was all said, making the other girl all the more afraid of an anxious outburst.

"Just a girl I met the bar once, her name is Shizuku. She said she's bringing another friend over, another girl. Don't worry though she's a bit of an airhead, an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her." Jessy relaxed, not noticing any changes with her friend's behavior. "Sorry I wanted to tell you but if you told Edgar and Martha they probably wouldn't have let you go! I just really wanted to hang out with you."

"Don't worry, mom and dad don't have to know." (Y/n) turned and gave a small wink before turning back to the road.

Jessy sighed, relieved to finally have some fun without much worry. "Oh oh! Right here!" The car slowly drove into the parking lot, the two searching for a spot to park. "Oh! They're over there." The two girls exited and quickly made their way to another pair.

The first girl Jessy walked to and hugged had shoulder length black hair and large round glasses. Large, plum doe like eyes gazed at (y/n) with innocent intrigue. Her casual wear consisting of a long black sleeved shirt and black shorts complimented her hourglass body type. She honestly looked adorable.

The other was a blonde clearly taller than her ravenette friend. Calculating eyes, short hair in a bob and a hooked nose gave her a demanding audience. The woman wore a red, low cut baby doll dress that ended on her mid thigh, and black heels making her even taller.

"Okay guys, this is (y/n), she's been my friend ever since middle school." Jessy placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, (y/n) shyly waving and saying hello. "And (y/n) this is Shizuku and her number two, Pakunoda." They too did the same thing.

"Alrighty! Now that we have all the introductions out of the way!" Exclaimed Jessy, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and waving for the other two to follow. "Let's get absolutely trashed!"

Pakunoda snorted and followed, all four of them entering the not-so-much-a-bar-as-it-is-a-club building.

Jessy grabbed a table, putting some of her things down to mark it as her own. "I'll go ahead and get something to get this party started! Anything in particular you guys want?"

Shizuku places a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Pakunoda wrapped an arm around the ravenette and shook her head. "Surprise us."

(Y/n) quickly waved her hands. "Don't get me something strong, I'll be the designated driver." She laughed, Shizuku finally making up her mind.

"Something fruity!"

She did somewhat seem like an airhead.

After plenty of drinks for the four, and pleasant conversation between the girls, Jessy was finally breaking under the alcohol. Her slim build swaying even when she sat in the booth's chair. "Y'all wanna hear a funny story? Or at least its funny to me." She slurred.

Pakunoda, sitting on the outside of the curved booth, leaned in. "Sure." Elbow now on the table and head in her hand. A delicate smile etched onto her lips, her eyes calculating as an extra hand served her drink.

(Y/n) listened to her start talking about Lilith, the old school bully having many stories about her. "I'm going to go to the restroom." She tapped Jessy's shoulders and moved over and out of the conversation.

Shizuku listened carefully to the slurring female, Pakunoda doing the same. Slowly the story became interesting, talking about receiving tattoos and snapping at the girl named Lilith.

But more importantly, a tattoo received on a lower back. (Y/n)'s lower back.

By the time said female returned all had paused, both Shizuku and Pakunoda silent but attentive. Jessy moved over to let her friend back in the booth they had claimed, Pakunoda placing a slender arm across her shoulders. "You have quite the temper don't you?"

Remembering what they had been talking about, the comment didn't surprise (y/n) all that much. "Lilith? Haha, yeah I hated her. She was difficult to deal with, always trying to one up everyone." (Y/n) waved her hand around to dismiss her temper, truly she couldn't stand people like Lilith. "Don't worry I'm much better now." Again she lightly laughed.

"You seem like it, you're so shy. I honestly didn't expect a story like that." Paku replied, leaning in a little closer.

"Which one was it? I've kinda snapped at her a lot."

"The one where ya' finally got yer tattoo~!" Jessy replied, sandwiching the poor girl between the two.

(Y/n)'s entire body went rigid, her breathing slightly labored by her hammering heartbeat. 'No, no, no Jessy couldn't have told that story, she wouldn't. She knows how dangerous it is for me already, telling people would make it worse!'

She would be hunted by hunters and the Phantom Troupe alike if the wrong people were to find out.

Doing her best to relax, her shoulders not so tense anymore. "Ye-Yeah, it's a bit of a strange one but I don't mind it too much. What time is it?"

Shizuku looked at her phone, her mouth wishing to yap about how Uvogin would love the girl. Or how Uvogin is just a call away from finding his soulmate. OR ANYTHING RELATED! But alas, the bone crushing grip placed on her thigh along with straight up saying it earlier, told her to shut it.

Now with a pouting face she checked the time. "It's 12:48."

Mumbling a short 'shit', (y/n) grabbed her purse and stood up. "Sorry! I was supposed to go home an hour ago!" She examined her phone with a pale face, not just from her tattoo being revealed, but the endless messages from her parents. "Does anyone need a ride?"

Jessy leaned in more, her lips ghosting (y/n)'s ear. "I would love to ride."

Pushing her drunk friend off, (y/n) made her way out of the booth, Jessy wrapped in her arms as the girl stumbled. "You two?"

Shizuku lifted her finger, her mouth opening to speak, but was quickly stopped when a hand smacked itself on her lips. "Don't worry about us." Paku replied, waving a dismissive hand.

"Al-alright. Well we'll be off then, take care!" Quickly grabbing her things, and Jessy, the two slipped out of the club.

Shizuku smacked Paku's hand away and pushed up her glasses. "What was that for?!"

Pakunoda shifted out of her seat, looking around at the other inhabitants of the establishment. "You were going to say something about Uvo, weren't you?"

The ravenette pursed her lips and turned away, scooting out of the booth as well. "So what if I was? It wouldn't stop us from getting her anyway." Whined the girl.

"It would have made getting her harder, she's already cautious of everyone." The two girls exited the bar, stopping to watch (y/n)'s car drive away. "Besides it won't be too difficult for Shalnark to find her."

"Didn't you touch her?" Shizuku pushed her glasses up once more, turning to wonder off to home base.

"Of course, she was very anxious the entire time, and she was weary of us from the beginning."

The ravenette hummed, both wondering through the lit up city. Smoke polluted the air of the alleyways they traveled through, the moonlight basking the criminals in an ethereal glow. The alleyway became too quiet, the once light sounds of buzzing insects feasting on the dumpsters silenced.

The girls stopped, looking at the empty sidewalk in front of them. They could sense two individuals, on in front of them and the other behind. Were the stalkers going to try and jump them? Did they know who they are? Well it doesn't matter, the stalkers will be dead soon.

"Well well well," A gruff voice echoed from behind. "Looks like the butterflies flew into the spider's web. How about you two be sweethearts and tell me about that friend of yours? The one with the (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes."

Shizuku turned around to face the man, noting the switch blade open and poised in his hands. "He has a knife, Paku."

The man 'tsk'ed slowly walking closer to the girls. Paku stared straight ahead, the other stalker finally revealing himself, a scrawny man with a baggy shirt and large knife.

Pakunoda sighed and pulled out her revolver, aiming straight between the scrawny man's eyes. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight." A quick pull of the trigger and a loud bang caused the man to fall over, a small hole oozing blood and smoke between his glossy orbs.

Shizuku summoned Blinky and with a quick bonk on his head, the gruff voiced man collapsed to the ground.

"Shizuku, is he dead?"

"I didn't hit him that hard." With a hum and a finger on his neck. "Nope, he's alive."

"Good." She swayed over to the man and placed a hand upon his cheek. A rush of memories and emotions entered her mind, like the ripples in water. "They weren't alone, they called others before following us. We should hurry before they find her first."

"They'll kill her won't they?"

"Probably."

"Uvogin would loose his nen if that happened, hmm, we can't let that happen."

Nothing new happened after their encounter, the dark streets now baron by the late night and the rundown buildings. Turning the corner to enter the hideout, a face revealed itself, young and distressed, their thin black brows furrowed.

No words were exchanged, the girls entering without a care. A sigh left the short man's lips as he walked with them into the church. "Machi had a feeling again. What happened?"

Shizuku hopped her way onto a pile of rubble and sat down with an impassive expression. "We were attacked by some thugs on our way back. Though, it was more like a one-way-massacre."

The entire Troupe was in the broken down office building, there were preparing to infiltrate a museum filled with priceless artifacts, but it might have to be postponed.

Feitan didn't look at Shizuku, already knowing her information may very well be useless. "Paku?"

"Shizuku's friend brought a number two as well, she just so happened to be a soulmate." Pakunoda teased, crossing her arms.

The small group playing cards stopped, even Chrollo averted his eyes from his book of interest. Feitan's brows lifted slightly, probably in surprise.

"Ah! That happened too."

Franklin snorted, placing down his cards and shifting to face Paku. Shalnark, Nodunaga, Machi, Kortopi, Bonolenov, and Franklin were huddled up in a small circle playing cards, though the game was now paused. Uvogin, the secret star of the show, was rooting for Nodu to finally win a game. "Who?"

A delicate smirk etched itself on her features, a slender finger pointing to the bear-like man sitting behind Nobunaga.

With that action taken, the bear-like man grabbed Nobunaga and wrapped his arm around his head. The other hand pulling out the ponytail and messing up his hair as a boisterous laughs echoed throughout the building.

Franklin smacked a hand on Uvogin's shoulder and congratulated them, Nobu yelling for Uvo to let go. Once he finally let him go, the shorter man smacked Uvo.

Uvogin didn't exactly care, all he knew is that his soulmate was found and that she was his next target. "Keep talking Paku." Uvo kindly ordered, curiosity taking hold.

"Well she's pretty cute, (h/l) (h/c) hair, bright (e/c) eyes. She's pretty attentive." Pakunoda waved her hands around, finding a seat on the opposite side of the large room.

Another hearty laugh escaped the bellows of his chest. "Finally! Took her long enough." He exclaimed, clapping and rubbing hands together. "Where is she?"

Pakunoda shrugged. "Her name is (y/n) (l/n), Shal will have to figure that out."

Chrollo hummed, grabbing the attention of the room. "Uvo, once you find out where she lives I want you to get her, it would be a shame if you lost your nen." He paused and placed a bookmark in his spot. "Paku does anyone else know?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes, the thugs overheard and called a few of their friends. I don't know how many."

Chrollo hummed once more, leaning in a bit closer to the group. "Once Shal figures out her whereabouts I want you and Nabu to go with Uvo. And be cautious, we don't know how strong the hunters will be."

Uvogin laughed, hands on his hips as he threw his head back. "I will."

"Found her!" Shalnark yelped, a bright smile stretched across his cheeks. "(Y/n) (l/n), lives in the New Found Apartment Complex about three blocks from her parents. Oh! Edgar and Martha (l/n), they work as security managers for the museum we were targeting." Shalnark excitedly exclaimed, waving his phone around in the air. "I'll send you the address, Uvo."

Feitan quirked an eyebrow. "She might know which hunters were hired to protect the exhibit."

Chrollo hummed once more, returning to his book with a calm expression. "That might be the case, if so then there we could be better prepared." The sultry voice of the boss explained further her use, not just for Uvogin but the entire team.

Uvogin cracked his knuckles, waving to Nobunaga and Pakunoda to follow. "Consider it done."

~~~

(Thats it everyone! Sadly Wattpad allows for larger chapters so this will be put into two parts to accomadate.)

#yandere uvogin #uvogin x reader #uvogin #yandere phantom troupe #yandere uvogin x reader #tattooed part one #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh

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human-trash-fire · 5 years ago

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Beautiful Disaster: Ch. 4 (Pynch Soulmate-AU)

I realized I never posted Ch 4 for my Pynch AU! So here it is, for anyone interested, HERE is a link to my masterlist where you can find the first 3 chapters. (THIS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE WITHOUT READING THE OTHERS) I’m also on Ao3 as glam_reaper2 <3

Anyways, this fic is the writing I’m most proud of, and I can’t wait to drop Ch 5 this week!

TW: Adam’s Dad/ mentioning abuse, graphic depiction of violence, mention of suicide attempt.

Adam Parrish woke in the early hours on the third day after the alley. The pre-dawn glow streaming through the crack in his curtains cast shadows on the plants and books covering his shelves. Eyes heavy and throat raw, Adam took a deep breath. In through his nose, oxygen flooding his lungs, battling to release the weight that had long since laid claim on the space behind his ribs. He held it until he thought he might choke. Vision blurring, heartbeat hammering in his ears, a pulsing reminder that he was still here; then in a rush, he released. The momentary weightlessness was a small reprieve.

The tiny arm slung across his abdomen a reminder that, at least for now, he wasn’t alone. Blue had crawled into his bed the afternoon before and stayed with him through the long night. Adam moved her arm off and slid as carefully and quietly as he could from the bed, he didn’t wish to wake her. She needed sleep, the exhaustion evident on her face even now.

He moved toward the window, reaching out to open his curtains, allowing the morning light to flood in. And there he stood, hand still holding the curtain, eyes trained on the horizon. He remained unmoved, watching the sun crawl from the earth bathing everything in its path in colors Adam had never seen. They were fresh, warm, soft. They stole his breath and for a moment, a lifetime, he stood frozen and allowed that hopeful warmth to settle in his bones. In awe of the majesty of nature, swallowed whole by the gift of color, broken by it.

His breath stuttered.

The man in the alley would never see a sunrise, or a sunset. He had given Adam this gift and left mere hours before Adam could have reciprocated. His thoughts spiraled, fingers tightening on the curtain, eyes burning. The sunrise moved from photographic clarity to an impressionist painting, and salt kissed his lips.

“Adam…” Blue breathed from his side, reaching out and pulling aside the second curtain to allow a full view.

“It’s-” Adam choked on a whisper, “It’s magnificent, and he’ll never see.”

Adam spent the rest of the week coping in the only way he knew how: throwing himself into his jobs and school work. Blue and Henry had closed ranks, showering him with their own personal versions of love.

For Henry, it was distraction, mindless conversation, a steady companionship during hours in the library. Henry Cheng, though initially someone Adam never saw friendship potential in, was more than most gave him credit for. On the outside, he was loud. From his clothes to hair, he was unabashedly himself: caring, vibrant, loyal. Adam appreciated the effort, never pressured to talk about what was clearly tearing him apart.

Blue was the opposite, in a very Blue way. She brought him coffees and hugs, asked him about his mood, and made highly unsubtle references to “healthy coping mechanisms.” She was kind but stern, pushing him towards what he knew logically was the next step. But this trauma was too big, too heady to file away in the closet in his mind marked “DANGER.”

It had been a little over a week since he watched his first true sunrise when Blue decided to take off the kid gloves.

“Look.” Her voice was as unwavering as her eye contact, sitting next to him on the chipped-white metal bench in the alley beside Nino’s Cafe where they took their break. Nino’s was his second job, and Blue’s “fun money/ free caffeine” job, covering the hours she wasn’t working on her photography portfolio.

Adam held her gaze, and his breath. Her tone brokered no room for argument, and he knew he had spent enough time avoiding answering anything truthfully… Her forcing a “talk” on him was inevitable. He nodded once to indicate he was listening, and waited for her to continue.

“I know you aren’t ready to talk, and that is completely fine. I won’t bullshit you and pretend I have any idea what kind of pain you’re in. No- no,” she held up a finger to cut off Adam’s rebuttal. “Don’t shake your head and feed me you’re ‘i’m fine’ because we both know you’re not. That being said you’re a grown ass man, who makes his own decisions and I respect that. But, Adam?”

He cocked his head to the side, and made a noncommittal grunt.

“You need to do something. You know I always advocate therapy, but -don’t scoff asshole- but, I’m also aware that it’s ‘not your thing’ so I had another idea. Here,” Blue thrust a bag towards Adam. It was a recycled paper shopping bag, rolled at the top and lighter than he expected.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Open it.”

He unrolled the bag skeptically and peered inside. His right eyebrow hitched as he looked away from the bag’s contents and towards Blue. “The fuck?”

“Letters. That’s my idea. Something I never told you but, when my dad left I had all this rage and I had no one to direct it towards. My mom got me a pack of envelopes and blank paper and told me to try writing a letter to him. She told me I didn’t ever have to send what I wrote to him if I didn’t want too, and I didn’t. The act of venting everything in a direct way really helped me, it was more than a diary, or whatever, because these were shots at an intended target. I could be mad and then seal it in an envelope and the weight in my chest lifted a little. I thought maybe…” She motioned towards the bag with a crooked smile and a shrug.

“Letters…” Adam repeated. “To a dead guy?”

“Yes.”

“Blue, I don’t know.”

“Look, just take the damn bag. Do it, or don’t. I can’t and wont force you. But at least consider it.” Then she rose to her full height, the most intimidating 5 feet he had ever seen, giving him what could only be called a “mom look” and sauntered back inside.

That night, weighted down by grief and half delirious with exhaustion, Adam opened the bag. He pulled out the box of white envelopes, cracked open the pack of college-rule paper, and grabbed a black pen from the cup at the right of his desk. This is so stupid, he thought as he put his pen to paper...

i. You, I never knew your name. You left before I ever had the chance to ask. I wish more than anything that I knew your name, at least then I’d be able to grieve a person instead of a stranger in an alley. You were… Exquisite. Even floating in a pool of your own life, you were beautiful. You were. Past tense. Gone. I dreamed of knowing you. The idea of you, in abstract my whole life. I didn’t know who you’d be, but, still I dreamed. It was my secret. The odds of finding your soulmate are so slim these days, and yet… In the quiet hours of the night, bone tired and barely standing at work, or when the hunger pains threatened to cripple me, I’d pull you out of the careful place in my mind, and dream. It’s dangerous to dream. I know better now. You fucking left me. How dare you? It’s probably a good thing you’ll never read these letters. Blue, my best friend, suggested I write them to help me “find closure.” That’s very Blue. She’s all about self-care and talking through feelings. Henry, my other friend, agrees with her. So here I am, attempting to vomit my heart on a page in hope of finding some semblance of peace. There is so much I wish I could have told you, and so much more that would have terrified me to admit. That’s one benefit to your never knowing me I suppose... Honestly, it was probably for the best that, in the end, you never had the chance to try knowing me. I’m a disaster. I’m unknowable. And that’s, fine. Ya know? I’m okay, I think. Holding onto that which sets me apart, and working my hardest to fix everything else that’s in my power. That’s how I got here, Georgetown. I did it myself. That’s something I would have told you, because it’s something I am proud of, though I’ll never say. I worked 3 jobs through highschool, made straight A’s, volunteered, and slaved away. I saved money in a shoebox under a loose vent in my trailer to buy books. My dad would have killed me, literally, if he’d ever found that. I was supposed to give them everything, but I hid that. I hid so much. I got really good at hiding in that place. Henrietta… What a fucking shit show. Anyways, I saved and pushed myself. I think I ate maybe once a day for those years, if I was lucky? I know I barely slept. But it was worth it the day the acceptance letter came in the mail. Georgetown. 3 hours away. A world away. A full ride. I was so fucking happy that day, I even allowed myself to dip into the shoebox to buy a coke fom the gas station by the autoshop I worked at. That was my life then, and still is now, to some extent. Small rewards, focus on the bigger picture. Work, work, work, and then one day have the power and money, the status, the ability to fight for people like me. I had barely put the box back when my dad, Robert, saw me holding my acceptance letter, and a $20. I wasn’t allowed to have money in my room, even if I made it myself. It was “for the family” he always said. “Do you want us to starve?” “you think you’re so fancy at your charter school don’t you?” always the same. Always cruel. So I’m standing there, money and letter in hand, smiling like an idiot when he comes in. I’ll never forget that day. I’d taken so many beatings from him by the time I was 17, it was second nature really. But this one? For some reason it surprised me. I thought for sure that he would be capable of some sense of joy. I got into college, for free. But Robert wasn’t like that. I could smell the beer on his breath. Keystone, always fucking Keystone. It smells like piss. It still makes me gag. “What the fuck is that?” he asked. And I didn’t know how to respond. I remember stuttering. I was always stuttering, mumbling, hiding, lying. Anything to avoid the inevitable. “I asked you a question, boy.” I panicked. “Its, uh, a letter, sir. An acceptance letter. From college. I-I got in.” Apparently it wasn’t the right response. I don’t remember much after that, I know he told me I had no right to hide money because I “owed him.” I always owed him. For breathing, for having the audacity to live. That night was the worst I can remember though. He wouldn’t stop. He was screaming about how I wasn’t allowed to just leave. I took more hits than usual, but I could have handled it. I’m no stranger to broken bones and bruises. But I was so scared this time. I knew, somehow I knew that this was it. If I didn’t get out he was going to kill me. Kill me because of a $20 and a full ride. I tried to run. I did. I never made it very far though. He caught me, and the last thing I remember was a screaming pain in the left side of my head. I don’t know why I’m even writing all this, maybe Blue and Henry were right? I’ve never even told them all of this. I really doubt I would have told you this had I been given the chance. I would have stuck to the barest details: Deaf in left ear. Accident. Long time ago. I don’t talk to my parents. Or maybe I wouldn’t have hid…Soulmates are a safe space right? Through whatever magic, or science, or God (if you believe in one of those, I don’t- hope you wouldn’t have cared) we are supposed to be able to share it all. A balance. A quiet place. A home. I wonder what you would have said if I told you? I hope it wouldn’t have been pitying. I don’t do pity. I’ll never know that though, which is maybe a relief? I don’t know. I hope you would have been proud though, that I did get out. Of what I’m doing with my life now. I haven’t even told “you” have I? I got a double Bachelors in Political Science and Conflict Resolution. I’m currently taking a Masters in Public Policy. I know, most people see “Georgetown” and “Politics” and think “Here’s another white guy with dreams of power.” But it’s not that. I’m going to change things, my thesis is on Domestic Violence: prevention and programs. I’m going to fight for the kids like me, in the homes like mine. I’m going to fight for every time I didn’t hit back. Every bruise and broken bone. I’m going to change the world for the Adam Parrish’s. I’m going to bring an end to the Roberts. That’s what I’m doing now. I guess I’ll be okay without you. I’ve always been better at work than relationships anyway. If we’re being honest you probably would have hated me. I’m terrible with making time for anyone. I have goals though, I don’t have the luxery to fuck around. I’m not conducive to a partnership, and I’m not even sure I’d be capable of love. I would have tried for you though. Maybe you needed that. Maybe if you’d had it, love, you wouldn’t have ended up in the alley. I don’t know. I wish I could ask you why. I just… fuck. This letter is getting severely out of hand. It doesn’t matter why you did it. You did. And that’s that I suppose. Forever a mystery, the man with the beautiful face and ice blue eyes. “I used to build dreams about you.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Benediction That’s all you are now. A dream.

He folded the pages in thirds, slipping them in an envelope, and sealing them away. On the outside he wrote the number one, then slid the envelope into a crack between one of his potted plants and a row of books on his window sill. Then Adam crawled into bed and finally slept; for once it was a dreamless- restorative sleep.

Shattered heart hanging heavy in his chest, Adam looked up when the bell above the door to Nino’s chimed the arrival of a new patron. The young couple made their way towards the counter. The smaller man leaning lovingly into the side of his partner, while the taller man looked down lovingly, arm draped across the first’s shoulders. It was a quiet moment, something so personal and beautiful Adam looked down, he didn’t want to intrude. His hands were shaking, a bitter jealousy crashing like waves in a storm through his entire being. He took a steadying breath, trying to quell the rage, and uncapped the black marker, grabbing a cup to prepare to take their order.

“Hi,” he bit out through his customer service smile. He looked up from the cup in hand, allowing a little of his Henrietta lilt to color his words into something close to friendly. “Welcome to Nino’s, what can I get started for you today?”

“Hi! Can we please get a- Oh, wow!” The shorter man had stopped mid-sentence and leaned close to Adam across the counter. “Your eyes are so blue! Babe, have you ever seen eyes so beautiful?” Adam wanted to fucking snap. The larger man leaned in as well and hummed in approval.

“No I haven’t, sorry. I know this is probably so inappropriate,” he leaned back, tone placating. “We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, this is just all new for us-”

Adam didn’t fucking care.

“-Anyways, can we please get two Americanos, and a a slice of apple pie with two forks?”

Of course, Adam nodded. He finished the order and made the drinks with shaking hands and a barely controlled rage burning him from within, blooming pink across his cheeks.

He couldn’t breathe.

When he returned home, he slammed his door and flew to his desk; practically tearing a lined sheet from the pile of supplies from Blue and began to write. Pen pressed so hard small tears formed in the paper as he purged…

ii.

You.

Fuck you for what you did. For what you did to yourself. What you did to that man in the alley. Screaming. Begging. Holding you together.

For what you did to me.

I hate you.

I hate that I love you. The idea of you. Because you couldn’t even wait for me. I never got the chance to love the real you, and I loathe you for it.

You fucking left me alone.

All this goddamn color, all these beautiful things, and I’m still living in black and white.

I’m drowning.

You were my hope.

You were my end game. Sometimes, I fear you’ll be my end.

I can’t get away from the idea of you.

I see your face every time I close my eyes.

You’re haunting me.

You’re ruining me.

Fuck you.

I hate you.

Fuck, You.

You…

Why did you leave me all alone?

When he finished his breath was ragged, chest rising and falling in heavy swells. Angry tears drying splotches across the page before him, turning certain words into a blurry but still legible watercolor. He threw his pen across the room, shoved the letter into the envelope marked 2, and placed it alongside the first.

Adam spent the remaining days of September numb. He had taken to carrying a few sheets of paper and envelopes in his messenger bag in case he ever needed them.

It was on one particular afternoon -two days before September ended- as he sat in Nino’s sipping coffee and staring blankly at the textbook in front of him, that he wrote his third letter. He felt untethered, unbalanced, the sky outside was such a pale blue that his mind began to wander. With a sigh, he pulled out a sheet of paper, and an envelope marking the outside with the number three.

iii.

You,

I’m so lost…

I can’t fall asleep without seeing your eyes.

Unfocused.

Unblinking.

Ice cold.

Fathomless.

Broken.

I wonder how they looked when you were happy… I hope you were happy, truly happy. At least once there before the end.

I bet they were beautiful.

Come back.

Please…

Adam stayed staring at that plea, that unanswered wish, until his coffee was cold. He wondered if this would ever end, he wasn’t unfamiliar with want. Adam had wanted more than anyone he had ever known. He was accustomed to the pain, the resentment that came with wanting that which you cannot have, but unlike all the other times this was wholly unattainable. No amount of extra shifts, A’s on homework, perfect test scores, hard-work would ever give him this particular want.

He packed his bag slowly, tossing his coffee in the trash by the door and waving half-heartedly at his coworker behind the counter. The bell chimed his departure and he made his way out into the chilly September afternoon. The walk from Nino’s to his apartment was blessedly short. As he rounded the corner at the end of the block he was assaulted by the acrid smell of smoke.

Adam looked up, chill already forgotten, for the source and his eyes landed on a peculiar sight: A handsome man, in a nice crisp peacoat and cashmere scarf. Standing, hands clasped behind his neck, staring into the open maw of a smoking, Candy-Orange, ‘73 Camero.

“Hey!” he half shouted, making his way towards the gentleman, his greeting had clearly disturbed an emotional crisis. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, did you maybe need some help?”

“Oh, hi. Yes, Hello. I’m, no thank you. I’m alright. I’ll give someone a call, The Pig is an auto-shop frequent flyer I’m afraid. Though, I’ve never seen it smoke quite so heavily.” The man half laughed, and shook his head.

“I don’t mind, I’m actually a mechanic down at Boyds. I can take a peak and see if I can do anything here if you’d like? Save you a trip.”

“Are you sure? I’d be more than happy to pay y-”

Adam shook his head fiercely, “No need. I’m Adam, by the way.”

He held out his hand towards the man, who grasped his in kind. A vibrant smile lit his face, “Lovely to meet you Adam, I’m Gansey.”

#pynch #pynch fic #Adam Parrish #ronan lynch #ronan x adam #blue sargent #gansey #gangsey #bd au

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het-reccers · 8 years ago

Text

ship manifesto: jyn erso/cassian andor

Fandom: Star Wars: Rogue One Pairing: Jyn Erso/Cassian Andor Recced on livejournal by: sugangel7

What do you get when a headstrong, fiery rebel meets a cool, reserved captain?

ALL OF THIS:

He hadn’t known her, didn’t know her, of course. There wasn’t the time.

Credit to: http://cassianskywalkers.tumblr.com/post/155918947283/he-hadnt-known-her-didnt-know-her-of-course

I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad.

Credit to: http://wrinchester.tumblr.com/post/155693213487/im-not-used-to-people-sticking-around-when-things

Credit to: http://jedileiaorgana.tumblr.com/post/155282010231/jyncassian-text-post-meme

Why write a ship manifesto for these two? Rebelcaptain stole my heart and then some. The one thing that soothes my soul is that there is a whole community of like-minded folks who have written tons of seriously beautiful fic that pretty much meets every single desire you had for this unwitting rebel and intelligence captain after watching the beautiful action-packed war epic that was the movie Rogue One. And you probably read the novelization too, which just whetted your appetite even more. (And let’s not forget about the official Star Wars Spotify playlist for Cassian Andor which just reaffirms their tragic, beautiful love story even more.)

I could’ve spent ages longer on this manifesto, and there are still some gorgeous fics out there that I have not yet read that I am dying to read, but I hope this serves as a somewhat comprehensive look at what the rebelcaptain fanfiction fandom has to offer. (Also look at the het-reccers tag, because a few of my favorites of theirs have already been recced). And check out the rebelcaptain tag on tumblr because there is so much good stuff to be found on there.

Rec #1: If you’re in the mood for some really well-done slow burn...

Title: semantics (it’s a series of one-shots!)

Author: katsumi

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/series/631220

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: ~2000 words for each one-shot / four one-shots with perhaps more to come

Why This Must Be Read: This captures the careful hesitation on the parts of both Jyn and Cassian while all their friends just don’t quite get it while some of them do. Fluffy, humorous, and heart-wrenching by turns.

“How is sleeping not the same as sleeping?” K2 asks, and shit, this is not a path Cassian wants to go down with him. He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Semantics,” he says, and he can hear the clink of bolts as K2 slumps a little. K2 has always been moody about that human tendency to say things that don’t mean what they’re supposed to mean, a tendency the droid finds “complicated” and “uselessly theatric.” “Oh,” K2 says, voice dripping with disdain. “I see.”

Rec #2: If you’re in the mood for some gorgeously romantic hurt/comfort...

Title: you will hope in something real

Author: tryalittlejoytomorrow

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9119407

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 4590 / No

Why This Must Be Read: This is a brilliant character study of Jyn and is just soft, quiet, and utterly, utterly romantic.

Rain catches on his eyelashes, and she becomes fixated on that, too. His face is a blur but she sees the little drops so distinctly, can count them, and he's beautiful, she can't deny it, and she wants to kiss him all of a sudden, or maybe it's not so sudden, after all. Jyn's been wanting to kiss him since that long ride in the elevator. Wanting to kiss someone when you feel like you're about to die is not exactly the same thing as wanting to kiss them every day, in the aftermath, Jyn's painfully aware. She's never wanted that before. She can't say that she hates that her life is now divided between before and after Cassian. It's another warm, stupid feeling Saw never took the time to explain.

Rec #3: If you’re in the mood for a true action-heavy war fic...

Title: spes semper mihi adest

Author: rain_sleet_snow

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9228242/chapters/20928818

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up, Major Character Death

Word Count/WIP?: 26945/ No

Additional Pairings: Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Shara Bey/Kes Dameron, Leia Organa/Luke Skywalker/Han Solo, Jyn Erso/Han Solo

Why This Must Be Read: I love this fic because it feels very much like the movie: Jyn and Cassian’s relationship is basically taken as a given with a lot of plot and action in a world where a war keeps on going, even as two people find themselves entwined in the midst of it. A poignant, engaging fic.

Cassian is half-awake. His clothes are bloody and partly shredded, and beneath them and the bacta Jyn can see scars that are healing and the distinctive marks of a torture droid, which are not. He looks thin and sunken and sick and he needs a shave. He also looks quite surprised to see Jyn; for a moment she isn’t even sure he recognises her. “Hello, Cassian,” Jyn says. Her tongue is crowded with words that won’t come out. She swallows them down. “Have a blaster.” She offers him the lighter of the blasters she stole, and he takes it with a familiar, easy grip that reassures Jyn that he’s still in there. “If this is a dream,” Cassian announces, swinging his legs off his bunk and staggering towards Jyn, “it is a beautiful dream.”

Rec #4: If you’re in the mood for a fantastic rendition of the soulmates trope...

Title: this is the fate you’ve carved on me

Author: Selkit

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9372218/chapters/21217277

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 17465 / Yes

Why This Must Be Read: I’m such a sucker for the soulmarks trope, and this author manages to pull it off in a way that feels so perfect for these characters and this film. I appreciate the author stays true to the essence of Rogue One, but isn’t afraid to adapt the film’s plot for the purposes of making this trope work. It builds an added layer of complication to an already complicated relationship and boy does it make for some fun and suspense and angst.

It occurs to her, very dimly in the back of her mind, that it would feel right to reach out and trace her fingers along the curving script, to see what her words feel like on his skin. She doesn’t.

Yet she does feel an odd sensation steal over her, like the not-quite-unpleasant ache in her shoulders after setting down a heavy load. It’s not relief, not entirely, but it’s something close.

Rec #5: If you’re in the mood for a fix-it, bed-sharing fic because hey this is rebelcaptain after all...

Title: we were secrets to keep

Author: mollivanders

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9352454

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 3270 / No

Why This Must Be Read: This fandom is chock-full of fix-it and bed-sharing fics but this is definitely one of the best. beautiful, flowing writing style that captures these two broken souls in such stark relief.

She's not sleeping, for one. Not sleeping well, at least, judging by the dark circles under her eyes and the way her shoulders are slumped.

His training also whispers to him that everything in her file suggests she's about to run, about to disappear, and he tries to shrug it off. (Still, the thought nags at him like an open wound.) So when she knocks at his quarters that night and slips inside, he doesn’t protest as she curls up next to him. She’s warm and solid against him, and he hasn’t been this close to her since Scarif. He doesn’t ask questions, and he drifts off listening to the sound of her shallow breathing, one pounding heartbeat at a time. (They’ll figure out the rest later.)

Rec #6: If you’re in the mood for a college AU...

Title: you might just go under

Author: andromeda3116

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9780254

Rating/Warning(s): Mature

Word Count/WIP?: 8076 / No

Why This Must Be Read: This is one of the best college AU fics out there. It captures that instant attraction between the two in a realistic way, and it features the rest of the Star Wars gang in a super fun way that truly does justice to all the characters.

Walking into the apartment (where, she could not stress this enough, she was supposed to be meeting two or three people for a study group after being on her feet all day behind the bar) was like walking unfortunately back in time, to the English department parties at Northeastern -- complete with the now-dated Lady Gaga music playing. Bodhi heaved a sigh when they walked through the door.

“I tried to wrestle the playlist away from Kay,” he said. “But he’s stronger than he looks.”

Rec #7: If you’re in the mood for an epic, action-packed fic that features the entire crew of Rogue One...

Title: floating, sinking

Author: shuofthewind

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9053302/chapters/20596522

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 135568 / Yes

Additional Pairings: Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus

Why This Must Be Read: With alternating POVs, this fic is a beautiful homage to the entire crew of Rogue One. So if you want something that features Bodhi, Baze, and Chirrut in spades while still doing justice to the beauty that is Cassian and Jyn’s relationship, then read this. The action and plot are just as substantial and important as the romance. It basically reads like another movie, and runs through A New Hope.

Jyn looks at the bedspread. She’s still confined to the sickbay, even though she could walk. There are guards on the door, Rebels in helmets. She can’t make out their faces, but they stop her when she tries to leave. If she wanted she could take them both out and vanish, but Cassian is in the next bed over, still kept sedated, and Bodhi wanders in and out when he needs quiet in this noxious jungle prison, and Baze is—untethered, is the word she wants. Baze is untethered. Chirrut is still hovering somewhere between life and death, and Baze is lost in space for as long as the question remains. She cannot be their fixed point, not the way they want—she isn’t a leader, for all she dragged them into hell—but she sees no point in leaving when they cannot come with her yet.

Rec #8: If you’re in the mood for a hilarious modern-day take on the friends-with-benefits trope

Title: I’ll Be There For You

Author: caramelle

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9422429

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 4215 / No

Why This Must Be Read: This is one of the best modern-day takes on Jyn and Cassian I’ve read. It’s quite funny with Kay and Bodhi acting as kind of intermediaries or peacekeepers in Jyn and Cassian’s evolving friends-with-benefits relationship. This is such a delight to read, and characterizes Jyn and Cassian’s dynamic so wonderfully with her insecurities and his patient waiting.

Jyn scoffs. "I mean, at this point, they might as well just come out and say it to my face, right?" She drops her voice into a low imitation of Chirrut's stately drawl. "'Jyn — no one cares about your feelings.'"

Cassian snorts. "Well, to be fair," he says conversationally, "everyone's still on the fence about whether you actually have feelings."

Rec #9: If you’re in the mood for a historical AU...

Title: Resistance is Built on Hope

Author: ChronicOlicity

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9079141/chapters/20644807

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 117509 / Yes

Why This Must Be Read: This is the rebelcaptain WWII AU that you’ve been waiting for. The author has done a marvelous job of adapting all the elements and characters of Rogue One to this historical time period with great pacing, dramatic, action-packed scenes, touches of humor, and the most beautiful simmering romance between our favorite spy and unwitting rebel.

For Jyn, that was a measure of trust. A feral animal wouldn't let another see its wounds — Cassian knew that firsthand. Battlefield instincts powered Jyn, no question about it, fight-or-flight instincts drawn even closer to the surface than anyone else he’d seen before. Dangerous and unyielding and all the more compelling for it.

More than that, Cassian was beginning to see her hunger. Not the appetite that Kay was constantly complaining about, but a kind of visceral need, elemental and nearly irrepressible. Now and then he caught glimpses of it behind Jyn’s eyes, in the stubborn set of her shoulders, the flash of something — like the electric shock from a fleeting, triggered memory — when she was caught by a seemingly innocuous scene. A picture of a lone child. Two, three figures disappearing into the snow, without a backward glance. A plane taking off and vanishing into the sky. Pieces of a puzzle, and Cassian had them in his hands, but in many ways, Jyn Erso was still as much an enigma to him as she’d been the day they met.

Rec #10: If you’re in the mood for a glimpse of domesticity for these two...

Title: That Would Be Enough

Author: mosylu

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9272258

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 782 / No

Why This Must Be Read: Cassian and Jyn rarely get quiet moments, and this is a short but sweet look into them enjoying something approximating domesticity in the midst of the war. Well-written dialogue and bed-sharing FTW!

On Echo Base, Jyn and Cassian shared a bunk. Or to put it more accurately, they both had a bunk that they could sleep in on the rare occasions they were planetside, and it just happened to be the same one.

The both of them planetside together, at the same time, for more than a few hours (days, Jyn had said, awed, when they compared schedules, at least two, multiple) was like finding a kyber crystal rolling around on the snowfield outside.

Rec #11: If you’re in the mood for an EU fic set 20 years in the future during The New Republic...

Title: the road that sets into the sun

Author: lyin

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9268955

Rating/Warning(s): General

Word Count/WIP?: 5189 / No

Why This Must Be Read: This is a poignant look into what these two aged warriors would feel like in The New Republic. While it draws heavily on EU canon, it is not necessary to appreciate this beautiful rendering of how these two have given so much to the cause.

There are names written in the lines of his face. Jyn doesn’t even know them all, but she knows Cassian thinks they deserved to live more than him, that the universe plays games with the life of men. That Cassian has always thought he had a righteous cause, but has never thought himself a righteous man. That the cause is slipping from his grasp.

Rec #12: If you’re in the mood for a funny, fluffy one-shot...

Title: flight lessons

Author: ignitesthestars

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9276590

Rating/Warning(s): Mature

Word Count/WIP?: 1044 / No

Why This Must Be Read: Jyn is all kinds of sassy, and it’s such a delight to read. This is a hilarious look at another mission that almost went wrong and some lovely Jyn/Cassian and all of their feelings to boot!

“Ah,” she says, and the breath turns into a shriek of agony as white-hot pain lances through her body, and really, dying doesn’t seem like all that bad of an option right now. Except for the part where it will probably piss off Cassian and make K2 happy, and there’s a lot that Jyn is willing to do just to ruin that droid’s day.

Rec #13: If you’re in the mood for some seriously beautiful angst...

Title: where my caution should be

Author: rosaxx50

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9822866/chapters/22055765

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up, Major Character Death

Word Count/WIP?: 1237 / No

Why This Must Be Read: Poignant, heartbreaking, and oh-so-poetic. This shows the beauty of their connection post-Scarif while also demonstrating the natural consequences of war.

I am glad you're here with me, he says, or she says, or both. Their hearts beat in time, slow and restful.

The plans stream across countless stars. He chooses to believe, because she does, that somewhere, someone listens to the greatest difference he has ever made to the galaxy. Their names will turn to dust like their bodies, but this legacy will live on.

Rec #14: If you’re in the mood for sassy K-2SO...

Title: The Genre Does Not Support This

Author: nymja

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8977609

Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up

Word Count/WIP?: 990 / No

Why This Must Be Read: K-2SO being K-2SO while Cassian and Jyn must act like normal human beings without copious amounts of UST between them. Fluff and humor while everyone is still so in character FTW!

“I have decided to be proactive,” the droid responded primly.

“Proactive? For what?” Jyn leaned forward in her chair. “Sexual tension will increase mission failure by approximately 12.95%.”

Rec #15: If you’re in the mood for a tragic modern-day AU...

Title: Emergency Contact

Author: randomdreamer101

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9541490

Rating/Warning(s): General

Word Count/WIP?: 3420 / No

Why This Must Be Read: Post-divorce, modern-day Cassian/Jyn is just as tragic and heartbreaking as you thought it would be. This is the last in a series, and I haven’t read the rest of the series yet, but this fic really captures brilliantly, how, even in a modern-day setting, Cassian and Jyn’s relationship has the potential to be very complicated and not at all easy.

“This is not exactly what I'd imagined meeting you again would be like," she says.

“What? You in critical care? Me holding back your hair while you vomit into a bin? What part of this scenario is lacking in romance?” Her mouth twitches. “The hair-holding was sort of romantic.” “Oh, I beg to differ," he says. “Well, I’ve always preferred life-threatening situations to flowers and chocolates.”

Originally Posted At: http://het-reccers.livejournal.com/1104941.html

#het reccers #fic rec #star wars #fandom: star wars #special: manifesto

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undercovermcdfan · 8 years ago

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dashes and tallies | Vylance, Hatch Marks AU

prompt: Red tallies appear for every person you’ve loved, black for every person you’ve loved that has died, and a white tally for when you meet your soulmate

a/n: so this takes place in the same universe of hatch marks, except I’m focused on Vylance this time! Don’t worry—if I can finally drag myself from this rut, I wanna make a part 2 to Hatch marks. Also BIG shout out to @crybabytime for not only drawing a fantastic comic based off the first fic (I’m in tears) HERE but being the MVP friend and helping me sort much of the HCs put into this fic??? LIKE??? ur da best & really so amazing thank you

warning(s): mention of other relationships (garrance), alcohol consumption, adult themes, again me crying because this au is so cheesy??

“H-hello? Hello? Uh… um, Vylad? This is Laurance!”

Part of Vylad, a part deep deep deep down wished he hung up the phone the moment he heard the desperate voice that wasn’t his brother on the other end. A part overruled by common courtesy to stay on the line despite the panic setting in and his heart still for but a moment.

Garroth always been a good brother—not the outstanding sort but he wasn’t cruel like their third brother, the middle one, Zane. Simply just a guy who saw life without much worry. And though he loved the elder brother dearly, sometimes…

Sometimes…

Garroth’s antics led to situations like this and Vylad questioning why he went out of his way to help.

You know why, his thoughts shot back, his subconscious pushing back as the memory of Laurance’s thankful when Vylad agree that yes, he’ll fetch his drunken brother from causing more havoc at Dante’s birthday bash, floated into mind. Leaning his head against the cool glass of the uber car’s window, he watched as the quiet residential streets of where his apartment build bled to the lively heart of the city, bright lights and all.

Frankly, there’s a special hell for people like him but he didn’t have the luxury of waiting from his own passing, no, whatever gracious being that watched over him from above must’ve thought his suffering was amusing.

To find attraction in another person was a natural occurrence—and for the longest, Vylad thought he must’ve been one of the lucky individuals who didn’t have to go through it romantically. He seen the trouble love could cause, and as the years went, his skin went unblemished with a marking. Acquaintances never crossed the threshold into friendship, and because his life enveloped by the overprotective mother and embarrassed step-father, he never sought out opportunity to find any meaningful connections.

All this, living in apartment without Garte’s heavy breathing down his neck or his mother’s insistence he kept close, with Garroth who went from a distant brother that would appear every now and again between extracurricular activities to being as much of best friend a sibling could be… this was new.

They met Laurance through Cadenza, the heiress to the Zvahl corporation—a new competition that even made Garte sweat in nervousness. From Joh’s innovative and charming persona that wooed many sponsors away from the Ro’meaves Inc. to the brilliant, outspoken daughter who already gracing business magazine covers to… the mysterious adopted son who kept out of the spot light and rumored buzzed among the old money elites his family surrounded themselves with. Cadenza was bright-eyed, beautiful girl, but Garte muttered under his breath, “Watch yourselves. She’s a cunning one.” She worked the party, occasionally returning to them with a gleaming smile and checking in, sweet compliments rolling off the tongue.

The third work around, she brought him.

Fiddling with his cufflinks and before they stepped into ear shot, Vylad could tell the two were in a heated discussion. To this day, he wondered: did he share a distain for his family? Did he hate the outfit he wore? Or the party in general? The mystery man Cadenza brought looked out of place, uncomfortable.

And it’s when he felt that heart racing, tied-tongue feeling.

“Hello.” A bright smile not unlike Cadenza’s, though more forced, as he offered an outreach hand to Garroth, who was just as much swept up in the man’s grace, “I’m Laurance.”

His hand was warm, firmly shaking Vylad’s after Garroth and a simple nod towards Zane when his apathetic brother opts to grunted a “hello” rather than taking his hand.

After the greeting, a brief formal chat, Laurance was eventually lead away by his oldest brother. It’s then when Vylad realized there was an almost pull… a small flicker of jealousy of wishing he stepped up first and did so. But that was out of character, he was the quiet, well behaved step-child of Garte who held nothing in power but his name, not the privileged heir that was Garroth.

Vylad sighed.

A few days after that fancy dinner, Garroth pulled him aside, “Hey, Vylad could you clear out for an afternoon? I’m inviting Laurance over and…”

To his credit, Laurance and Garroth have been dating for months now and apart from a few run ins here and there, once in their apartment lobby and once after Laurance dropping off Garroth off, the two sharing a parting kiss before they said their goodbyes, Vylad steered clear of Laurance.

In person.

Sadly, online, it was a different story. He never really found much use with keeping up with any of his accounts but after the dinner and a moment of weakness, he accepted Laurance’s obligatory friend request.

Some days he thought, his actions might border strange—he’d never like a photo or post Laurance made, but would linger for a thoughtful moment or two. Eyes lit up when the other mentioned a show he enjoyed, or funny pictures he taken, or the more candid pictures he retweeted from his friends and…

“Garroth has rather good taste, doesn’t he?” Zianna, his mother, exclaimed excitedly once to him as she scrolled through Laurance’s profile. She claimed it was her ‘motherly’ duty to just see what kind of men her precious eldest got involved with but Vylad knew it was her being nosy without directly pestering his brother.

Though—if they were talking from an aesthetically pleasing point of view, Vylad readily agreed Laurance did look good. He struck as a natural at posing in his candid picture and the sort of smile that warm, easy, infectious if you saw him in real life. The kind of smile Vylad liked to see more in person, if… he ever worked the courage.

Well, unless I commit to this plan of getting in and getting out as fast as possible… this could be my chance to talk to him. He fiddled with his scarf, readjusting it to properly cover his neck. I should stop thinking like this. Laurance… is Garroth’s… We aren’t high school rivals, no need to boyfriend steal.

Even if I saw him first. Even if he might be my…

He paused.

I can’–

“Sir,” the gruff voice of the driver impatiently grunted, “your destination. Sir.”

Vylad sighed, reaching into his wallet.

“VYLAD,” Dante managed to startled him despite the loud pulsating music that filled the small space of Dante’s apartment. With glasses that lit up in the dark, a skewed birthday hat and stripped down to a tank top and… swimming shorts? the extroverted blue haired man all but threw himself at Vylad the moment he saw him, “DUDE I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO MAKE IT.”

Vylad grimaced and glanced around. Not many familiar faces—Lucinda, a popular fashion guru who slung an arm around a pretty redhead girl, a woman named Katelyn who he remembered seeing in Zane’s office (never happily) sulking on a couch and… he sighed when he saw a familiar Zenix and Sasha dart through the crowd, a third person hot on their tail as the two laugh obnoxiously.

Not exactly my scene. “I wasn’t planning to. I’m here to pick up my brother—have you seen him?”

Dante furrowed his brow, “WHAT?”

“My brother. Garroth? You know, MY BRO— “

Dante held up a hand, cutting him off as he shook his head, “You don’t need to yell, I—okay, sorry. Forgot, bad sense of humor,” he rolled his eyes, just as Vylad’s stare held its scowl, “You can find Garroth… um. Actually, last I saw him, he was hanging in the hot tub with Aphmau but… okay wait, follow me!”

This was tiring.

This was terrible.

Following Dante through the crowd, he continued find words to describe how this party, disco lights reflecting pretty colors and the room felt almost suffocating with the strange smell in the air—

Oh. Well there goes for avoiding Laurance.

Dante tapped Laurance’s shoulder, throwing an arm around him for side hug as he leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Beside him, a white-haired man almost as tall as Laurance’s lanky stature fidgeted with a red cup for a moment before sharing a look with Laurance and striding off in direction of Katelyn on the couch.

“Vylad, this is Lau— “

Laurance, shoving Dante’s face away, and turning enough to properly see Vylad, he gives a bright smile, more genuine than the one when they first met. “We already met. Now scram, dude—I heard K.C. was looking for you.”

“Ehhh,” Dante hung off Laurance’s shoulder, pouting, “Why do you treat me like this? Before Travis and Garroth, I use to be your main man!”

“And you still are. Just need you to be less clingy,” he managed to detached from Dante’s grasp and with a defeated look, the birthday boy conceded his defeat.

Not without the dramatics though, “Whatever. You still owe me an after-Birthday hangover breakfast tomorrow morning. I’m getting that breakfast burrito supreme!” And like a bumbling gazelle, Dante was gone.

In that moment, Vylad was acutely aware of a few things. His heart loud beats could drown out the music. Laurance was just as tall as his memory serves him. And the tongue-tied feeling wasn’t a one-time thing.

“Vylad, I’m so sorry for this short notice,” Laurance started, digging his pocket to pull out a familiar black smart phone, “Garroth… is somewhere. He told me something a hot tub and kind of handed me this and his wallet.”

Dropping the phone and case in his hands, Vylad pocketed them immediately, before shrugging, “It’s no issue. It’s better if I take him home before he really does something stupid…” Vylad paused, noticing the look in Laurance’s eyes, “…What did my brother do?”

“A lot of things. I have things to explain and apologize for to my sister and her girlfriend type things,” Laurance shook his head, massaging his temple before giving a sheepish smile, “No offense. To your brother, I mean. Garroth is usually such a… great guy. I guess alcohol is his vice.”

Vylad frowned, concerned for what his brother might’ve done rivaled concerned what his brother might’ve done to Laurance. Or said. Or whatever reason that caused this sour expression. “I apologize. He’s never was one to handle his drink.” Vylad couldn’t handle holding contact with Laurance for so long, his gaze connected for a moment with those baby blues before scanning the crowd.

“Or bottle, for the matter.” Laurance muttered, voice muffled by the music.

“What?”

He waved his hand, before resting it on his shoulder, “Never mind me. I’m a bit on the tipsy side of things but… I think it’s time for us to find that heir and drag him home before he breaks something else.”

“Break something else?” Vylad tilted his head suspiciously and in worry, looking up at Laurance.

Laurance, on the other hand, cracked a wide smile, teeth and all before pressing his lips together with his pointer finger, “Shh. I left some cash in Dante’s room for what Garroth broke—not even Dante know it’s broken yet,” his blue eyes sparkled with mischief, “I’m trusting you to keep my secret.” Because he lowered his voice, Laurance had to lean closer and Vylad could only jerk his head up and down, nodding Yes, not trusting his words.

Satisfied with the answer, Laurance grabbed his hand, pulling him deeper into the crowd— “Usually it would be faster to separate and find him but Dante sometimes invite shady people. Or Zenix might pick you as a pickpocket victim. Either way, just stay close.”—and again, Vylad could only nod yes, stumbling in after him.

“B-But, Laurance,” Garroth whined, his arms looped around him in a similar manner Dante did to Laurance before. Yet Laurance looked unbothered. “Please. Don’t… do that.” Garroth poked at Laurance’s cheek for his frown.

“Garroth, I—okay, fine,” Laurance said defeated, as he combed through his boyfriend’s blond hair, “This’ll be a conversation for tomorrow.”

“Yes. My win.”

Vylad stopped watching in the mirror as the two proceed to share another kiss, sinking lower in his front seat. He questioned whether letting Laurance ride back to the apartment was a good idea—but one look, the kind that conveyed ‘I’m tired of this’ coupled with Garroth’s clinginess, Vylad conceded quickly.

Watching the street lights go by, he could only think of one thing: fuck.

The sight was strange, seeing Laurance standing there, squinting at the bottle in hand.

But what made Vylad hesitate from going back into his room and instead take a brave step forward was because at that moment, even with his drunken brother sleeping not so quietly on the couch… Laurance looked… lonely?

“Um…” Vylad licked his lips, gesturing to the bottle in the other’s hand, “I thought you said you drank enough for tonight.”

Laurance laughed, a soft one, settling on the floor and patting the space beside him. “Nope. I’m sure I said I was tipsy… but our little search party for the prince in distress kind of sobered me up,” he paused, leaning against the couch with his expression falling into something more complicated, “And after tonight…? I need it.”

Vylad settled beside him, eyeing the bottle still. It wasn’t one of their finer ones, and it wouldn’t be a reason to pry the bottle away from Laurance but he felt off. Yet, he didn’t speak up as Laurance cracked it open and took a small swig.

Silence settled between them, Vylad sneaking glancing at Laurance and Laurance staring blankly ahead. It was only broken when he suddenly offered Vylad a sip with “a penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, um,” Vylad quickly shook his head, “No, no. I only drink when I have to. For, um, business dinner stuff.”

“Smart boy,” Laurance grinned at him, lifting the bottle again and squinted it, “this taste fine, but I understand why, after seeing what happens to your brother.”

“What happened at Dante’s was nothing to what I heard he done in college,” Vylad shrugged leaning his cheek against the couch as he stared at his resting brother that occasionally tossed and turned, “The frats would throw wild parties and… Garroth is a little too gullible at times.”

Laurance snorted, before taking another swig effortlessly, “After tonight, I believe you completely.”

“And you’re right.”

He gave Vylad a raised brow. “You were right because Garroth is probably the reason why I… don’t casually drink.”

Seeing the genuine smile, then the laughter that followed warmed him in a way he couldn’t described, and he was right; Laurance’s smile was infectious. He could feel the corners of his lips lifting, then chuckling.

“Aw man! I mean,” Laurance as he started to calm down, he shot him an amused look, “sometimes the most fun drunks are the serious ones, you know. And if not, if you had his carefree dancing skills…” Laurance whistled, raising the bottle, “Man, you’d be the life of the party.”

“Really?” Vylad with a deadpanned look.

“Okay,” Laurance had a playful smile, lowered the bottle and turning more towards him, “my sense of ‘life of the party’ might be a little skewed.”

He continued with the look.

“Okay…” Laurance raised his hands in defeat, “I mean, at least he had fun at the end of the day.” Vylad nodded, content with his win and soon, he finds conversation flowed easily between them.

The two traded facts about each other, as their conversation turned from Garroth to each other, and Laurance admitting his curiosity.

“You barely use your accounts, nor ever online.”

“It’s mostly for my freelance work and how people can easily contact me.”

“Freelance? Don’t work for your dad?”

“Yes and no— “

And their discussions continued like for a long while.

Vylad grown a little confident as Laurance put away the bottle, and find himself scooting closer and closer. Their voices grew soft, cushioned by the need of sleep but their want to talk. It wasn’t long until the two were within each other’s space rather than starting off with him by Garroth and Vylad by the end of the couch.

The only noise now that disturbed the air was Garroth’s snore. While minutes ago, Vylad felt a second away from sleep, now sat attentive and hands balled in his lap as Laurance, eyes half lidded, continue to lean close.

So close.

What are you doing? He thinks to himself, as Vylad tilted his face up, almost entranced by how Laurance looked and suppressed the chill that ran down his back as a finger trailed down his jaw, cupping his chin.

Vylad wasn’t well versed in social cues but he knew when a kiss was coming. The way their bodies shifted closer, the way weight Vylad didn’t know existed lifted from his shoulder, and he wondered if Laurance could hear his thundering heart.

He closed his eyes and he started to lean in.

What are you doing?

“W-wait,” a hand stops his moving in, and Vylad’s eyes fly open, cheeks flushed red flushed even redder. “I… I can’t do this, Vylad. Your brother. He’s right there.”

“…” Vylad recoiled even more, unable now to meet with Laurance’s eyes but the other still attempted to touch his hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean to lead you on. I just,” Laurance then touched his cheek in a gesture to look up but Vylad away further, rising to his feet, “This is my fault. I’m so—wait, Vylad, wait!”

He always prided himself of his quickness and while he felt nothing but shame at this moment, Vylad was already in his room by the time a slightly swaying Laurance could get to his feet.

“Vylad, I’m sorry!” was the last he heard before he locked the door.

Leans against it, almost straining to hear the other side of the dense door. No movement. Not a peep.

His hands lifted to his neck, before tearing off the scarf his wore over it. Vylad walked over to his mirror and craning it slightly, he checked the tally on it.

White.

He wondered if it was normal for it to feel like it’s tingling, the pull to Laurance was still there. He felt… regretful more than angry. And because of that, he felt more shame with how he regretted not going in for the kiss, to kiss his brother’s boyfriend, without a shed of remorse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, settling on his bed before flopping back.

“Well I guess avoiding him has gotten way easier,” he mumbled to himself, while Vylad didn’t see Laurance’s face, he’d imagine something close to guilt and heartbreak for Garroth’s sake, that he almost…

He squeezed his eyes tighter.

What was I thinking?

Laurance leaned his forehead against the door, his hand on the handle.

The moment it slammed shut and the audible click of the locking mechanism… Laurance felt the plead die at his throat.

Vylad looked… almost in pain the moment his eyes opened and realized what they were about to do. Humiliation. It was a gut reaction, for the last second before they could press their lips together, he remembered Garroth.

His… well, his soon to be ex, boyfriend. After tonight.

During the night, since the moment Garroth admitted the reason why he hadn’t shown Laurance his tallies was because… he didn’t have a white one to match Laurance’s white. He never directly lied to Laurance’s face, saying he did have a red one, to match Laurance’s red but.

That would explain so much.

He remembered his father once described, finding your soulmate, there was a natural pull to each other.

And Laurance was fond of Garroth, given different circumstances, he’d even say he’d grow to love the blond. But as he returned to the couch, he cask a look the resting blond as he sorts through his thoughts.

He felt connected to Vylad within a few hours versus the months he spent time with Garroth.

A pull.

He would even come to say, the pleasure of getting to know the quiet Ro’meave felt more fun than he had at the party. And the near kiss…

Laurance touched his own lips, frowning. They looked really soft. I wonder if they feel the same.

He glanced towards the hallway Vylad ran down, still frowning. I’m so screwed. What have I done?

Laurance didn’t know for sure.

But he wanted to know; the night of the dinner, he only gotten two new tallies. A red and a white.

If Garroth wasn’t the white…

“I hope I’m not wrong.”

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