#and crush still tried but things wouldn’t have been shipped in time

[astral-catastrophe]

I don’t cry often but dear god. I’m crying over her.

[arting-block]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Eleventh Doctor x F! Reader

❝𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯.❞

Summary: After a stressful day, you overhear Amy arguing with the Doctor. When he realized you heard everything, he tries to set things right.

Warnings: Angst, mentioned kidnapping, misunderstanding, pinning, comfort, the Doctor sucking at feelings

Words: 3.8K

A/N: I'm finally getting through the requests sitting in my inbox. This one was one of my favorites I've done in a while :) @shuichiakainx i hope you enjoy!!

You messed up. Badly.

The Doctor had explicitly stated for you to stay by his side. No wandering about, no talking to strangers, don't do anything foolish. The city you were visiting had a different culture, one steeped in brutal violence. Any slight can be perceived as an invitation for war. 

You should've minded your own business. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. Even though your friends freed you hours ago, you can still feel the imprint of metal cuffs around your wrists. Your hands busy themselves with rubbing the area, bandages wrapped around your pulse where the metal snagged your skin.

You tried to defend an elderly man from getting hurt by a group of teenagers. You foolishly tried to shield the man from the onslaught of abuse, hoping to simply talk to the teenagers so that things wouldn’t escalate. Oh how wrong you were. 

You knew you messed up. You had already regretted your choices the moment rough hands gripped your arms and hauled you into a foreign ship. 

The Ashmadas were almost a whole head taller than you. Thick yellow hides that became scaly along their joints, blunt canines that were meant for crushing bones and skin, and the fluorescent eyes that glowed even in pitch black darkness. A species that evolved from war and brutality. Even the most intimidating human would look like field mice in comparison. 

What you hadn't anticipated was the cold demeanor of your Doctor. You imagined him being cross, yes, but never downright angry. The moment he and the Ponds made it to the threshold where you were held, you noticed how calloused he had been. Snarling words, tension rippling beneath the skin. Furious didn't begin to explain his behavior. He threatened to set off a bomb that will incinerate everyone in the ship and release a plague to their already dwindling community. When you finally got out of your shackles, the Doctor barely even acknowledged you, hellbent on making the Ashmadas a new endangered species. It was only when you grabbed his face, forced him to see the tears as you begged him to leave, did he finally back off. 

As the four of you retreated to the console room of the TARDIS, the Doctor makes a flimsy excuse about needing to check the ship’s engine. The day’s events have been heavy for all of you, so you knew it was more about him needing space. When you tried to talk to him, he brushed off your touch and gave you a cold reply. 

You walked back to your room not long after. Rory patched you up as best he could, using a concoction of human and alien medicine. He didn't speak much and you were grateful for the silence. The only words he slipped out were sincere apologies for not getting there sooner. There was something else he wanted to say, moments where he opened his mouth but nothing came out. You were, frankly, too tired to press further. 

Once Rory left, you tried your hardest to get some sort of sleep. Your body was spent, bruised, and tattered. No matter how many times you turned or how much your body ached, your mind couldn’t stop racing. You’ve probably spent a good hour or so trying to get comfortable, but to no avail. 

You were still on edge, thinking about the cramped cell you were placed in. How alone you felt. You’ve been in precarious situations before, but this was different. Three whole days of captivity in total isolation. No light peeking through so you had nothing to distract you. Just your own memories passing through your mind. It made you realize just how much your friends mean to you. How much their presence comforted you, how relieved you were when Amy’s voice cut through your dark Hell. You remember sinking into the Doctor’s embrace, crying into his jacket and muttering how sorry you were. 

There was so much you wanted to tell him. Those three days spent curled into a ball were filled with memories of him. His laugh echoing in your ear while carrying you throughout the universe. Petty arguments filled with teasing and embarrassed faces. The way he finds himself beside you, always lingering like a string was attached between the two of you.

The most treasured memory of all was one where it was just the two of you. Talking about nothing and everything. Favorite color, worst kitchen appliance, obscure historical figures. You talked for hours, laying your whole life for him to dissect. When it was his turn to speak, you took the opportunity to study him. Cataloging the slope of his nose, the lines around his mouth, and his mannerisms. The way he points going in tandem with the pitch of his voice, how his whole body moves when he talks. 

You wanted to scream in his face the moment you saw him. Tell him the three words you repeat in your head when he’s around. Instead, all that came out was unintelligible sobs into scratchy fabric. 

Tell him, tell him everything. 

The bed creaked when you moved to sit up. Your heart ached at seeing the Doctor’s fury and how silent he was when you came back. You caused him worry, not just to him, but to the Ponds as well. The last thing you want is to end the day on a sour note. He’s your friend after all, even if you wanted something more. 

It didn’t take long to reach the console room. You took your time with each step, wanting to get your thoughts in order. You pick up voices coming ahead of you, muffled words that you cannot make heads or tails of. As you approach the end of the hallway, you hear the muffled words turn into the familiar voice of Amy in a rather accusatory tone. You peek around the corner, observing the view of your two friends from above. 

Amy stands a few feet away from the Doctor, who is hunched over the console. Amy’s face is a mix of concern and disappointment, as if she’s scolding a child. You notice the dirt smeared shirt she still wears, meaning she hasn’t gotten back to her room just yet. Was she here the whole time?

Crossing her arms, Amy shook her head at the tired man in front of her. “You’re never going to admit it are you?”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing to admit.” The Doctor’s answer is just as cold and detached as it was hours before. “If you’re just going to go back and forth with me all day then I suggest you go spend your time with your husband. I told you before I’m not in the mood for your scolding.”

Amy’s laugh is devoid of any humor. She takes a step towards the Doctor. You see the pent up anger in her; a fuse ready to blow. “You think you’re so good at hiding it. You think we’re too stupid to notice—that I’m too stupid to not bring it up?”

“What exactly are you talking about?” 

You shouldn’t eavesdrop like this. If the Doctor found out that you were listening in on a private conversation, he would no doubt be more angry than before. 

Amy ignored the question, wanting to force the Doctor into a corner to say what she wanted to hear. “I’m honestly impressed how long you’ve lasted. Were you going to bury your emotions and hope they would simply disappear? You think pushing her away is going to make it hurt any less? I see the way you look at her.”

The Doctor snaps back, angry and seething. “Spit it out already Amelia!”

“(Y/N)!” came her equally furious reply, one that echoed sharply in the large room. 

Your heart skidded to a stop in your chest. Why was she goading him like this? You didn’t recall telling Amy about your feelings for the Doctor. Was it that obvious? If she noticed, does that mean…?

The Doctor was quick to invade Amy’s space. He towered above her, his teeth bared with provoked anger. “And what exactly do you want me to admit? That she's careless and doesn’t listen to a word I say? How do I have to clean up her mess after she did the one thing I told her not to?”

Hearing the pained emotion in his voice made every word sting harder. He was not wrong to say it, but it hurt nonetheless. You wished that he would’ve said it to your face rather than having to overhear it in the shadows.

He didn’t stop there. It seemed Amy had opened a dam of pent up thoughts and emotions. Words kept spilling from his lips, each one hurting more than the last. “You know what I see when I look at her? A fragile human being. Someone who is only going to occupy a fraction of my existence.”

“You love her,” Amy spits back, wholly convicted. Tears prick her eyes as she barrels on. “Admit you stupid old man. You. Love. Her.”

Her words seemed to shock the Doctor out of his wrath. He immediately steps back, as if her presence burns. 

The two of them look at one another, chests heaving. Amy doesn’t back down, keeping her chin held high, meeting his burning gaze. The Doctor’s face is unreadable, partially due to the fact that you don’t have a good vantage point. The anger doesn’t leave him, but you could tell that he’s considering her words. 

You hold your breath, not wanting to miss his response. 

It comes out soft, barely within normal talking level, but in the dead silence of the console room you hear it as clear as day: “How can I love her? I won’t—I can’t let that happen.”

You felt your heart drop out of your chest. All of the hurt spirling inside your chest, clawing a cavernous hole to fill with despair. 

He doesn’t love you. 

You were paralyzed, replaying that awful sentence over and over again. You bring a hand to cover your mouth, feeling the droplets of tears already flowing. 

He doesn’t love you and he’s making sure it doesn’t happen. 

Are you that awful to be around? That the mere thought of being romantic with you makes him angry? 

Your hand presses at the space where your heart lies. Your shirt twists, your body curling deeper into the shadows of the room. You’ve experienced heartbreak before, back on Earth throughout the years. Never like this. It was more than a simple rejection, but a swift blow to your entire worldview. 

You thought, foolishly, that maybe there was something between you two. He wouldn’t have let you stay as long as you had if he didn’t like you. All those late night conversations…the small brushes of skin when no one is looking…all of the glances you caught more than once…

They were nothing. 

Stumbling back into the hallway, you ran as fast as you could to your room. The TARDIS bestowed mercy on you, materializing your room just a few feet away. You didn’t think twice to fly open the door and slam it shut behind you. You knew the sound would travel to the console room and alert Amy and the Doctor, but you didn’t care. 

The force of your cries shook your body, your sobs filling your room despite your hands trying to muffle them. Over and over you replay the entire conversation. You wished the TARDIS would swallow you whole and spit you far, far away from the Time Lord. 

You hear the sound of thundering steps approach your room before the sound of frantic knocking against your door. 

Before the person could utter a single word, you let out a strangled demand: “Go away!”

“(Y/N), I can—” the Doctor cut himself short. He let out a frustrated huff before starting again. “Please, it’s not what you think.”

Those words snapped you out of your whirlwind of sadness. Anger bubbled in its place. 

“Not what I think?!” You didn’t think twice before forcefully opening the door. The Doctor jumps from his spot in front of your room, a show of surprise on his face. “I heard everything.”

The Doctor places his hand up in surrender. The cold, neutral face he had on before is completely wiped away, leaving a startlingly emotional one instead. “Please, if you give me a moment—”

“What more could you say to me?” It comes out shaky, with tears still dripping down your face in rivers. You no doubt look like a complete wreck, but you’re too upset to care. You’re tired of bottling your emotions up. You want him to know how much this meant to you, how much his words physically hurt you. “I know you’re already upset at me that I didn’t listen to you, I know that. You don’t get to stand there and act like this is a whole misunderstanding. I mean come on—fragile human?”

“I know and I’m—”

“I was so relieved to see you again. Three days, Doctor. Three whole days, spent in that cell waiting for you. I felt so guilty for not listening and I hoped that we could reconcile, but no. I was fine with giving you space, but then I had to overhear you talk about me like I’m some burden.” You force yourself to take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “Is that how you really feel about me?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond, which makes you even more angry. 

“Did you know?” you spit out. It took everything in you to not shut the door in his face and never come outside again. But you needed to know. “Did you know?”

The silence that came thereafter was deafening. The Doctor let his hands drop to his sides. You didn’t dare blink, watching his every move, waiting for a response. His head dips to the side, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he stares at a spot on the floor. You knew he knew what you were referring to. 

When he lifts his head, you were surprised to see such bare remorse. Still, it does nothing to quell you; if anything you’re happy he’s feeling the guilt. 

“Yes…I knew for a while,” he mumbled, forcing the words to come out. “Rory’s mum told me, said that you liked me. I told her that of course you liked me, I’m the Doctor. But she gave me a serious look and told me you fancied me.” His lips twisted up at the memory, but seeing your withering glare he quickly dropped it. 

You gripped the doorframe, recalling the visit clearly. The Ponds had called you, wanting to go on another adventure after nearly three months of normalcy on Earth. In their absence, it was just you and the Doctor against the universe. Three months of staring longingly at the madman in a box, wanting to spill your guts but feeling too scared to. When the Ponds came back, you remembered Rory’s mum taking the Doctor to the side, whispering in his ear. You had asked what she said, but the Doctor gave a flustered reply. His ears were pink, and his words were hastily spat out. 

“That was over a year ago. You knew all that time?” You wanted to scream every curse you knew, both English and alien. It took everything in you to not tear him a new one right then and there. “And I had to hear you say it to Amy of all people? Someone who also fancied you, and if I recalled kissed you?”

It was unfair to throw that back in his face knowing that they moved on from that incident. Amy had since made it explicitly clear that she loved him platonically and was wholly committed to Rory. 

The Doctor took a tentative step towards you, unsure if you were going to disappear back into your room. He took another, and another. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, opting to stare at his scuffed shoes. 

You could feel him get closer. It unnerved how much you still wanted to be near him, despite everything. 

The Doctor’s hands found the curve of your cheek, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze. Warm palms cupped the sides of your face and his thumbs wiping away the tears that still fell. The sheer intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, burning into you. You watch as his green irises start getting glassy; the planes of his cheeks become a flushed pink. He stood there for a few moments, simply holding your face, looking at you as if it’s the last time he ever will. 

You let yourself bask in his touch. He took another step towards you, still holding your face. You closed your eyes as you felt the cool touch of his forehead against yours. 

“Doctor��”

“You have every right to be upset.” He gave a chuckle, but you heard the pain in his voice. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you. I looked forward to the nights where you pester me with odd questions. Every morning I pray that you stay another day with me, hoping that you don’t wish to go back to Earth.”

The confession scares him, you feel it in the way he tries to keep his voice even. When he pulls his forehead from yours, he still hovers over your face, staring with the heat of all the feelings he tried so desperately to hide. 

His eyes move over every inch of your face before settling back to your swollen eyes. You watch his eyes soften, as if he’s seeing the most beautiful star nestled in the depths of your pupils. So focused on the heat of his hands and the movement of his eyes, that you almost miss the twin stream of tears running down his own face. 

The Doctor took one shuddering breath, letting his thoughts flow out. “I couldn’t let myself acknowledge my feelings—I couldn’t. Everyone I ever loved…everyone I got close to is gone because of me. I couldn’t let that happen, especially not to you. But then you had to get yourself kidnapped.” His voice trailed off, cracking at the memory. 

You dared not to move, fearful that he would snap out of the spell he found himself in. You can’t recall a time where he was this open to you, about his feelings no less. All the pent up emotion you felt before settled to a dull throb in your heart. 

“I would’ve brought the entire fleet down on its knees, have them beg for mercy.” You felt the rage in his voice, knowing full well that he meant every word. “When I couldn’t find you, I was terrified. You were gone before…”

His hands trembled, his breath became more ragged. You’ve never seen true terror on his face. 

You whisper, just barely audible to his ears. “Before what Doctor?”

He shakes his head, almost wishing he didn’t open his mouth. When you silently pressed him to answer, he couldn't help but cave. 

“I lied back there, with Amy,” the Doctor rushed, trying to get all his disorganized thoughts out. “I lied—I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“What? Didn’t mean wha—”

“It already happened,” he cried, his body caving towards you. “I told myself I couldn’t let myself love you. I…I lied.”

You felt your heart stop for the second time today. Your mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to respond. The Doctor takes a half step, effectively caging your body against his. You own shaking hands rested atop of his, hoping to calm him. 

“Every moment I spent with you, I spent yearning,” he says with such emphasis that leaves no room for doubt. You cry harder at the admission. “I took my frustration on you, made you think that I could never love you. I do—Stars, I do. You have no idea how much I do.”

You couldn’t hold back the loud sob that overtakes your whole body. A cry that leaves the Doctor’s two hearts aching knowing that he caused your pain. He continues to rub his thumbs over your cheeks, not to wipe away the tears, but to soothe you. 

“Say it,” you plead, words scraping against your throat. “Say it and I’m yours. I’ll be yours forever.”

Your words trigger something in him, that same fear that made him distant towards you. He doesn’t move from his spot, paralyzed by the decision. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” came his equally desperate reply. “I can’t lose you too.”

“We’ll find a way. You always do.”

The Doctor sags against you, resting his forehead against yours once more. Cries of his own shake him, his tears joining yours on the TARDIS floor. You take it upon yourself to mirror his actions; your hands gently holding his face. His once bright, crystal green eyes were now blurred with tears, encased by swollen, flushed eyelids. 

“I love you.”

A barely audible whisper, one meant for you. Said with such raw intensity that it echoes in your ear, seared in your mind forever. 

The Doctor clears his throat, furrowing his brows in concentration. “I love you. Stars above, I love you.” He speaks louder, not wanting you to miss a word. “I’ve loved you for years and I was too much of a coward to tell you. I’ll make it up to you, show you how much I’ve wanted you, if you let me.”

A smile stretched across your face. Pure euphoria filled your body, buzzing with a high that made you lightheaded. You feeled the charged energy between you two. The Doctor stills, anxiously awaiting for your response. 

“I’m yours,” you say in the shared space between you. A declaration, waiting for the final seal. “I love you, Doctor.”

The Doctor slants against you, finally removing the last inch of space between you. His kiss falls over you like the whispered confession he had given you. His lips mold against yours, slow and lingering. One kiss, then another. You grasp onto him, your hand threading into his hair, another along his jacket. His hands no longer tremble. You feel his palms leave your face and travel down to the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. 

When you pull away to breath, he wastes no time burying his face against your neck, peppering the heated skin with kiss after kiss. He finds the spot where your pulse meets your jaw, sucking on the skin harshly, making you shudder. The Doctor overwhelms your senses; his touch, his scent, the taste of his mouth—

The Doctor gives one final kiss against your lips, before releasing you. He watches you catch your breath, seeing your relieved smile stretching across your face. He feels his face mirroring that same delirious smile. 

I’m yours, his two hearts sing. I’m yours forever.

[valeriianz]

Summary: Part 2 of my Hard of Hearing!Dream. Part 1 here! Dream struggles with his new disability and Hob tries to help... along with Dream's new friend, Jessamy.

Square/Prompt: A1 - Why Did You Do It?

Rating: T

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: human AU, deaf!Dream, angst, happy ending, established relationship

Fill for @dreamlingbingo! (thank you @mallory-x for the read through!)

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

When Dream turned 30, he celebrated it in a crowded bar that doubled as an art gallery, close to his apartment. It was his favorite bar, because it was an eclectic gallery first, with a bar open for events. Luckily, there was a local exhibit on the night of Dream’s birthday and he knew it would be the perfect place to celebrate. This way, he could appease his friends who wanted to go out and drink and celebrate, and Dream could stare at art and make a quick escape if need be. It gave a chance for everyone to focus on anything else but him after the initial round of shots. 

Hob never took his focus off Dream, though. Even when they would float away to opposite sides of the room, Dream would turn his head and find Hob staring at him, smiling at being caught before turning his attention back to the person he was in conversation with.

At that point, it had been two and a half years since Dream had told Hob about his diagnosis… that he would go permanently deaf. In that time, he did indeed completely lose his hearing in his left ear, but his right was still working pretty well. He had just gotten used to tilting his head slightly to the left so people would understand to talk directly into his good ear.

And Hob was still here. Patient, sweet, loving Hob. Who Dream secretly had a crush on probably since they were first introduced. They’d moved in together last year, and while there were some bumps in the road, complications that arose with moving in with a lover, Dream was surprised to find that he was… happy.

He couldn’t stand it, sometimes, how happy Hob made him. Even his friends had noticed how he smiled more, seemed to have a more positive outlook on life and even on his disability. And it felt natural, like Hob just brought out all the good traits about Dream, like they had been lying dormant and just needed the confidence, the reassurance that he was allowed to feel this way. This happy.

And then, 45 days after Dream’s birthday party, he woke up to Hob shaking him awake, because he was sleeping through his alarm that was apparently blasting through his phone.

But Dream couldn’t hear him. Or the alarm. 

He watched with horrifying realization, as Hob’s lips moved, hovering over him, but no words came out. 

So much for five years. 

Hob had clocked Dream’s blank stare relatively quick, his lips shaping the letters of Dream’s name with a hand on his face, Hob’s brows pinched up and–

Dream cried. 

He felt foolish for it. He knew this would happen eventually. He just thought he’d have more time. 

Dream speaks with his audiologist the next day, with Hob by his side. Dream had wondered about hearing aids while he still had a modicum of hearing, but had been hesitant. His insurance barely covered them and, while hearing aids may have helped in the past, after several tests, his audiologist confirmed with Dream that now, they wouldn’t even be able to pick up background noise. They wouldn’t help at all.

Dream and Hob had left the office with defeat hanging heavy in the air. Mostly from Dream. 

He’s not proud of the person he had been in the week following his permanent hearing loss.

But in time (and therapy), Dream was able to move on. And it really wasn’t so bad, once Dream accepted that this was his life now.

If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can still hear Hob’s voice, especially with his lips pressed against his throat, behind his ear, murmuring sweetness into his skin and sending vibrations into his skull. It’s one of the most calming things Dream has ever experienced; laying in bed with Hob, in the absolute darkness and absolute silence, his remaining senses heightened, it’s both relaxing and unexpectedly erotic. To feel Hob completely surrounding him, grounding Dream, warm and solid and safe, it lights Dream up from the inside and reassures him that everything would be okay.

And in time, Dream comes to appreciate the silence. It’s nice, it’s peaceful. Living in a large city, with constant chatter, cars honking and sirens blazing, used to be a sensory nightmare; that creeping, prickling feeling of overstimulation has vanished and now it’s just… nothingness. 

It was scary at first, Dream would be a fool to not admit it; watching the world continue around him, people living their lives, living his own life, all in absolute silence. Not being able to hear the beep of the microwave, indicating when his food was done, or water coming out of the faucet while he washed dishes, or the sizzle of oil in a pan while cooking… little things that Dream had never really perceived whilst hearing them every day. All of that sound just– gone. Like hitting the mute button on a movie.

Dream tries to convince himself that he doesn’t miss the mundane noises, he could barely hear them anyway… but he often feels lost without them. So learning to welcome the quiet was the only way Dream could stay sane.

Though going deaf after decades of being able to hear (albeit poorly) and speak gave Dream the advantage of continuing to communicate in spoken English. He still has an inner voice, can still read lips very well, and so the communication gap with his friends and even strangers isn’t as wide as Dream had feared.

It makes learning sign language difficult. Dream at first did not take the lessons very seriously, especially with Hob being the only person to practice with, in those early days. Hob did help, though; he fumbles and signs broken ASL and Dream fumbles back. But it had been so easy to fall back on the habit of using his voice. But as months turn into a full year, Dream learns by trial and error that he realistically can’t continue traversing through a hearing world without sign language.

The hardest challenge he’d run into, for example… Dream never thought he’d need to prove his deafness.

Of course people get confused when he can speak perfect English, out in public spaces like a cafe or a bookshop, only to then turn around and seemingly ignore everyone around him. It is a strange experience, for Dream, to go around communicating as usual, speaking when he can’t even hear his own voice and reading lips. But he can’t be constantly on the lookout for anybody trying to get his attention. Watching belatedly as someone he had been exchanging dialogue with, roll their eyes and walk away in a huff. Dream truthfully has no idea how he might come off to a complete stranger who can’t realize that he’s deaf. Rude, perhaps. Or uncaring.

It’s enough to convince Dream to get fake hearing aids… he feels ridiculous wearing them, like he’s giving in to a social construct that only exists in his own head. But, annoyingly, while wearing them, the way people communicate and treat him improves exponentially. 

Funny, that.

Hob, of course, notices.

“When did you get these?” He touches the little device in Dream’s ear, his fingers turning into a caress. “I thought aids didn’t work for you?”

Hob speaks while he signs, they both do, to help make the hand motions stick. Though Hob often slips up and signs exact English, not proper American Sign Language, which he’s doing now. It doesn’t help in the learning process, but it’s a start, and Dream has no leg to stand on when it comes to corrections.

Dream swipes his index finger across his nose.

“Fake.”

Dream offers no more explanation, turning a page in the book he’s reading. They’re sitting on the couch, Hob properly facing the TV, and Dream lounging sideways, his legs draped over Hob’s lap.

Hob taps the edge of Dream’s book, getting his attention once more.

“You’d rather put a sign on you that announces to the world you're deaf?”

Dream sighs, knocking his head back.

“I know I shouldn’t have to…” Dream starts, his fingers fumbling, a new sign of nervousness he never thought he’d had before. “But it might make things easier.”

“Things?” Hob finger spells, his hands coming down, palms up, in a sign of confusion.

Dream moves a hand to his mouth.

“Communication,” and then to his ear, “understanding.”

Hob’s brows furrow and Dream slowly looks back to his book.

Dream wonders if they’re thinking the same thing. Remembering how difficult it became, living together, after Dream lost his hearing permanently. Hob would forget that Dream couldn’t hear, which was frustrating enough, but the slip-ups were near constant in the beginning. 

They’d get into arguments over it, a flame that Dream wasn’t proud to admit he’d always fanned. He hated that his hackles were constantly rising, always on the offensive, like Dream was expecting Hob to take the bait and fight back. That would, of course, spiral into meaningless fights over something stupid like leaving the laundry in the dryer for too long, or forgetting to pick up a particular ingredient they needed for dinner at the grocery store.

Dream was ashamed to admit he didn’t help in the situations, often coping out by just– not looking at Hob so he couldn’t see his lips moving or his awkward signing. He’d turn around and stomp away and Hob would be left to chase after him, hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around so they could communicate.

It got easier… Hob was so patient with Dream. He never got so angry he would give up. He always apologized, even when Dream was just being dramatic. 

Hob knows by now that Dream would never take the easy route. And sure enough, Dream ditches the fake hearing aids. With them on, people started treating him with gloves on, or stare at him nervously, wondering how to approach. It’s frustrating and annoying– how Dream can’t seem to find a middle ground.

It takes unloading to his new deaf friends about Hob; seeking advice for how to temper these unexpected feelings of disappointment and changes in Dream himself… they never used to fight, before Dream lost his hearing. This is unknown territory for the both of them. 

Dream had discovered the community in his city, for deaf people. He’d found a meetup online, after his therapist suggested looking into attending the weekly meetups.

As always, Dream was at first skeptical. His sign language was still spotty at best, and he wasn’t a social guy even when he could hear so. He wasn’t hopeful.

Luckily the deaf community in his city is more than accepting of him, patient when he slips and signs exact English. And when Dream is done airing out his grievances, they encourage patience with Hob. That having a hearing partner is always going to be a struggle, but Hob is clearly coming from a place of compassion and wants to learn. That’s more than can be said for most people. 

Dream feels foolish, all the sudden, for his actions against Hob, looking sideways at Jessamy. She was one of the founders of these d/Deaf meetings, and they clicked immediately. Unlike most of their peers in the group, she too had been born hearing and then lost it due to illness. Her and Dream were a lot alike, though she was older and had been wading through this new world for over two decades. She was fluent in ASL, and didn’t even speak while communicating.

“It’s considered rude to speak here, during these meetups,” she had explained during Dream’s first time with the group. 

Jessamy becomes something like a confidant for Dream. She too has a hearing partner, Matthew. The amount she and Dream have in common is almost frightening. But in time Dream discovers it’s nice… to be seen. To be understood. She helps Dream comprehend the beauty of the silence even more. And that they can still attend hearing events just as before. 

So with her encouragement, a few months down the line, Dream and Hob join her and Matthew at a music festival. Jessamy excitedly points out interpreters several of the bands have on stage, and Dream feels a bit of relief. He can also feel the vibrations all around him from the loud speakers, though it’s not as pronounced as they would be in a venue with wooden floors; the earth beneath their feet grounds the pulsating bass lines to something dull and unrecognizable.

Dream’s not quite fluent enough in ASL to understand every word the interpreters use, especially at the speed they’re going in to keep up with the song, but he gets the gist. And he has to admit it’s… fun, doing this. He hadn’t been to a concert or music festival in almost five years, and spending it with both Hob and his new friends is nice. It’s easy to stay within their safe space and not feel pressured to speak with strangers or awkwardly ignore them; everyone here minds their own business and in time, Dream loosens up.

After finding available, good seats for the next band they’d all agreed on, Hob and Dream set out to the nearest vendor to grab drinks and snacks for the four of them, while Jessamy and Matthew hold down the fort, so to speak.

While standing in line, Hob asks if Dream is enjoying himself. And, surprisingly, Dream is. He says as much with a smile and taking a playful nudge from Hob.

As the line shrinks and they come closer to the counter, Dream’s gaze moves from the short menu taped to the window to the man taking orders. His lips move sluggishly and hesitantly, speaking with an accent that makes it difficult for Dream to parse. But it doesn’t phase him, what everyone wants is on the menu and the transaction should be simple.

Now, Hob could just place the order for him– for all of them, but Dream had been determined, lately, to converse in transactions like this himself. It was good practice not only for Dream, but also whoever was taking his order as well. To learn patience and practice his communication skills. It was a little nerve wracking, but for the most part it was easy. If a cashier or barista or medical professional had trouble exchanging words with Dream, well, that’s what he carried a pen and pocketbook around for.

The person in front of them moves to the pickup counter and Dream sees the man behind the counter call out what must be a, “Next!” but the way his lips move, it looks more like, “Nect!”

Dream swallows and signs as he speaks, to– hopefully– indicate how this would potentially be a one-sided conversation.

“Two orders of fries, one mac and cheese, three shots of Bacardi, one shot of vodka, and a lemonade, please.”

The man barely looks at Dream while he types the order into an iPad. Dream nods, mostly to himself, and looks down as he reaches into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

When he looks back up, the man is in the middle of saying something to him.

Dream’s brows wrinkle.

“Can you repeat that? I can’t hear you.”

After he speaks and signs, Dream offers up his card, assuming the man just told him the total.

But the man visibly sighs and leans forward a bit, his mouth opening widely.

Dream focuses but only manages to make out the words “fries,” “double,” and “which do you want?”

“Um…” Dream licks his bottom lip. “One more time? Slowly, please.”

With a truly agitated face now, the man moves his lips again, but as Dream studies them, hoping to fill in the words he missed, instead new words are added and Dream finds himself stumped.

“Fries, yes. And singles, for the shots,” he guesses.

The man types something into his iPad but looks again at Dream with a growing look of irritation in his gaze. Dream looks behind him and sees a line of customers, before facing the man again, once again catching him in mid speech.

“Hold on,” Dream grumbles, settling the card down and digging through his pocket for the pen and paper. “Clearly I am deaf and raising your voice is not helping–”

Dream nearly jumps as Hob steps up suddenly to the counter, almost getting in front of Dream.

They exchange a few words before finally Hob nods and hands the guy his own card.

Dream stands silent, his pocket notebook in his hand and blinking slowly at Hob, who gives him a sheepish smile over his shoulder before nodding again to the man and taking both their cards back as well as the receipt.

They walk to the pickup counter without exchanging a word, meanwhile something begins to burn the back of Dream’s neck, prickling down his arms and coiling in his stomach.

Dream tugs on Hob’s arm as they settle next to the mobile vendor. 

“What just happened?” He doesn’t speak. Dream can’t find his voice right now.

Hob rubs the back of his neck, his gaze focused on something behind Dream.

“No french fries,” he signs without confidence. “Curly fries only.”

Dream blinks. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut tightening.

“Did you just order for me?”

Hob’s shoulders deflate, nodding.

Dream gapes like a fish for a few seconds, his eyes darting from Hob to the man that just took their order, and back.

“I don’t want curly fries. I hate curly fries. We could have gone to another vendor. You didn’t have to–”

Dream cuts himself off, balling his hands into fists and taking a long breath, closing his eyes, shaking his head.

Hob always did this. 

It took a while for Dream to notice, how if they were together, Hob would finish a conversation for Dream. Would speed an uncomfortable situation along with an interjection or provide unnecessary context with a stranger “He’s deaf, sorry…” without consenting with Dream first. 

When Dream realized Hob was doing this, he would go quiet, unsure whether or not to stop him or correct him in some way. Dream never knew exactly what to say. Did Hob think Dream was incapable of handling tricky conversations himself? Did he think Dream was a hassle?

When Dream opens his eyes Hob’s hands are out, placating, his eyes apologetic.

“Why do you do that?”

Hob blinks. “What?”

Dream’s heart rate is steadily rising, his fingers shaking slightly. 

“Make my decisions for me.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” Hob starts, his own signing gone fumbly. “I thought I was helping.”

“Yes. That’s the problem…” Dream starts, finally speaking again and letting his hands fall to his sides, his brain struggling to interpret correctly.

“What do you mean?” Hob asks.

“You don’t need to rush me out of an uncomfortable situation,” Dream starts again, his hands gesticulating uselessly. “If I’m communicating with someone whom I can’t understand, we can figure it out. They will learn. They need to learn.”

Judging by the way Hob is nervously looking around, Dream’s volume is surely rising. But he finds he doesn’t care.

“I’m not this thing you need to handle with gloves. Let me see a problem through until the end. No matter how long it takes.”

Dream is breathing heavily, he realizes, sucking in a gulp of air.

“Of course not.” Hob finally speaks, forgetting to sign. “I'm sorry.”

Hob’s eyes are welling up with tears and it somehow makes Dream more agitated, more words stumbling from his mouth without his permission.

“Then stop treating me like a burden!”

Dream turns and walks away. 

It’s foolish, and childish. And as Dream stomps away, his own vision becoming blurred with tears, he knows it’s not just this moment that’s made him snap. It’s the culmination of events from the past year of being fully disabled. He hates that he can’t hear. He hates this adjustment period. He wishes he’d been born deaf so at least this hurdle, this life change wouldn’t feel so mountainous. 

Dream wipes his eyes shamefully as his pace picks up to a run, pushing past people blindly. Regret screams in his bones with every step he makes, with every inch he puts between Hob and him. His chest aches with the urge to turn around and apologize, but he shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t! 

Dream’s shoes clumsily connect with the dirt underneath him, his face becoming hot and, as he rounds the corner of an unoccupied stall, Dream collapses to the ground and allows the tears he’d been fighting back to fall freely, a sob choking in his throat.

He grips his hair as he cries, his face stuck between his knees. The past year flashes before Dream’s eyes, all of the hardships, the doctors’ visits, the fights with Hob. He didn’t deserve Dream. All of his kindness and patience and for what? For Dream to snap on a dime and expect too much out of him all at once? 

Dream groans loudly, agitated at himself for seeing the problem; him, and unsure how to change. He knows he has a right to his feelings, but communicating them was so difficult. He’s becoming impatient with himself, with his slow learning curve, with Hob’s complacency to stay in their safe little bubble and treat Dream like this breakable thing. 

Dream couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but his sobs had stifled down to sniffles, and by the time he felt a hand gently land on his shoulder, Dream was doodling shapes in the dirt.

His head snaps up and finds Jessamy staring back at him, her brows creased in worry.

“Hey…” She’s bent over, her hair falling in her face. “What’s wrong?”

Dream ducks his head, shaking it, officially feeling foolish for running away. The regret he’d felt for leaving Hob starts up again and he suddenly feels so scared. At this rate, Hob would break up with him. Surely he was getting sick of Dream’s dramatics, him lashing out.

“Hob and I never fought…” Dream starts, his hands moving sluggishly. “... when I was hearing.”

Jessamy plops on the ground in front of Dream.

“It’s me,” Dream continues. “I’ve become so… sensitive, since going deaf. I feel like, sometimes, Hob treats me like a child. Like he wants to wrap me in bubble wrap. It’s so infuriating– I’m not some helpless thing that can’t figure things out!”

“No, you’re not…” Jessamy starts, reaching a hand out and giving Dream’s knee a shake. 

“It is OK to feel like this. You’ve only been deaf for a year…” her brows come up encouragingly. “The transition is tough, but it will get easier, in time.”

Dream nods solemnly, tracing lines in the dirt again. Jessamy waves her hand to get his attention once more.

“And you’re not alone, you know.” She smiles gently. “You got me and Matty–” she huffs a laugh at the look Dream gives her. “... and the entire gang to support you.”

Dream knew she meant everyone at their d/Deaf meetups and offered her a small smile. She’s right, of course. Despite how withdrawn and antisocial Dream had been in the beginning, even now still creeping out of his shell, the people he’d surrounded himself with had been nothing but kind and accepting and willing to listen and connect in ways Dream hadn’t thought possible. 

“Hob is still around, too,” Jessamy interrupts his thoughts, her brows lifting knowingly. “That man loves you so much; you should see the way he looks at you– it’s disgusting.”

Dream manages to crack a real, genuine smile at that, especially with the way Jessamy is fluttering her eyelashes and putting on a spot-on impression of Hob’s puppy dog eyes. 

He pulls a hand through his hair and looks down again. Images of Hob’s easy smile flashing behind his eyes, his hands caressing Dream’s skin, his strong arms lifting him in a hug, his sweet lips tracing the lines of his jaw and ear, murmuring sweetness that Dream could no longer hear but feel instead. Could plainly see Hob’s devotion and affection in their everyday lives together, how he would always start the coffee in the mornings so Dream would wake up to the smell of it. How Hob would leave the hallway light on during the day so Dream would come home– late from work– and have something to see by. How he always offered to help with dinner prep, chopping veggies or stirring something, often using the excuse to crowd Dream against the counter and kiss Dream silly.

“That man would pull the moon down for you, I hope you know.”

He would, Dream realizes, swallowing thickly. And he would do the same for Hob.

Dream nods, wringing his fingers out as Jessamy continues on.

“Remember, this is a learning experience for him, too.”

Her painted nails move with perfect fluency, always slowly for Dream to understand. And as one thumb comes down from her forehead to meet the thumb on her other hand, Dream nods again, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her lips curl sweetly, gaze flicking sideways suddenly.

She nudges her head. “Speak of the devil…”

Dream looks too, and finds Hob approaching them.

He curses to himself, wiping his eyes with more urgency and catching the almost giggle that Jessamy makes.

“I’ll leave you two alone?”

Dream takes a steadying inhale, pushes his shoulders back, and makes a weak fist and nods it back and forth.

Jessamy stands just as Hob steps up to them, his eyes guarded yet hopeful. She makes a sign of texting before stepping around Hob with a clap to his shoulder.

Hob watches Jessamy leave before meeting Dream’s gaze again, but says nothing. His eyes never leave Dream as he crouches down and takes a seat next to him, leaning back against the wall.

Dream stares back, studying the lines of Hob’s face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, which are shiny and puffy, like he’d been sobbing, too.

“I’m sorry,” Dream whispers, pushing a fist into his chest.

Hob sighs, his shoulders going with it. He speaks as he signs.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Dream shakes his head. “You’re always the one apologizing for my outbursts–”

“But you were right,” Hob interjects, his eyes pleading. “Dream, can I say something?”

Dream’s heart leaps into his throat, swallowing harshly. He nods.

“You need to tell me…” Hob’s gaze shoots up to the sky, as if searching for the words for his hands to convert. “... the first time, when I do something that makes you uncomfortable. So I can remedy it immediately.”

Dream takes a deep breath as Hob continues, his hands moving slowly but surely. 

“Don’t let bad things fester and build. Talk to me.” His hand comes to his mouth in a motion similar to how Dream explained on the couch months ago. “Communicate. If you don’t correct me in the moment, I’m bound to repeat it.”

He takes Dream’s hands, his thumbs tracing circles over the knuckles. 

“I want…” Hob awkwardly makes the simple motions with his hand still clasped with Dream’s, making him bite back a smile. “... to do this right.”

Dream takes another breath that rattles, his eyes prickling at the corners.

Hob’s eyes have gone watery, too, his smile lopsided.

“OK?”

Dream nods. “OK.”

Hob rises up on his knees just as Dream does, falling into each other. Dream squeezes his arms around Hob’s shoulders, tucking his nose into Hob’s hair and breathing in the scent of him, letting it envelop him and calm him.

Hob’s lips brush the skin behind Dream’s ear, pressing a kiss there, before he feels them move.

I love you.

[solar4seekstron]

I. Don’t. Care.

TFIDW!MTMTE!Yandere!Possessive!Drift x Cybertronian!GN!Reader x TFIDW!MTMTE!Yandere!Toxic!Ratchet Onshot

Introduction Movie/Series Oneshot Masterlist

Content: 18+

TW/Tags: Toxic relationship, mention of Abuse, Shower scene, a few make out sessions, nonconsensual touching and action, Drift being a switch, Ratchet is pretty quiet and one note in this but he’ll do more near the end. He’s just the quiet type. Bit of manhandling, viewer discretion is advise, abuse, This is basically a dark fic so Ratchet and Drift act like their darkselves, Happy ending.

Notes: Reader is the same height as Drift and Ratchet. Shown a few times in the fic when two bots touch forhelms it means trust and respect. Can be for both romantic and platonic relationships. Drift is in his 2nd form for the lost light

You were a former Autobot Guard. You worked alongside Rodimus and Ultra Magnus in the Lost Light ship.

You once worked alongside Red Alert as well before his passing.

You were also the Conjunx of Drift and Ratchet. You three became a poly relationship after the two got together sometime after joining the Lost Light.

You’ve had a crush on them both for a good while.

But never made an effort to confess. Seen as only a good friend before. That was until one day when Ratchet and Drift appeared in front of your berth room.

Drift having a large grin on his dermas while Ratchet only had a smile when you greeted them. That was the night the two confessed and asked for your cervo to be their Conjunx. Taking you by surprise.

Honestly, you just thought the two were just straight-up gay. But guess they have a thing for neutral bots as well.

Since then they made sure to bond with you that very night. They were so gentle and sweet the entire time. Like as if you three have been together long before.

But you couldn’t help but have this feeling of dread. Like as if there was something else just sitting there the entire time.

Days went by since then. Things remained mostly the same and your spot alongside Ultra Magnus Rodimus. You took notice of the two though.

The way how Drift and Ratchet always seemed annoyed and upset whenever you had to go to work in the morning.

Sometimes the two even tried to take turns with getting you to take the day off and just spend time in the room. Either it be both or one of them.

Today was no different. Get yourself polished and ready for your day before making it for Rodimus, Ultra Magnus, and Springer's meeting.

You looked in the mirror of your shared berth room with the two.

Drift has already left to meet up with Cyclonus for sword training while Ratchet didn’t start his shift for another hour. You smiled as you checked out your frame before turning around to look at Ratchet.

His arms were crossed and a frown was plastered on his dermas like always.

You made your way closer to him before leaning down to gently hold his cheeks. You then spoke as he just stared at you. “I’ll be home before dinner. We can order your favorite dish at the bar you like on the ship.”

Your dermas soon touch his. The kiss sweet but his remained a little. Colder and Still. He’s returned it though. His cervos moved to hold the side of your waist while he held a firm grip.

The kiss lasted for a little while longer. When you chose to pull away, you were stopped when he kept his firm grip on your waist.

You kept trying to pull yourself free but instead, he wouldn’t budge.

You tried to brush it off with a chuckle. Your dermas only a couple of inches from his while his frown remained. He would keep staring at you.

“Ratchet I’ll be back before you know. And besides you know you’re allowed to visit.”

He continued to just stare at you. Before reluctantly letting you go. “I’ll see you later then. Then at home.”

Your smile remained once you gave him a small peck on the dermas once more. You then stood fully straight. Then make your way to the door before turning your helm and waving bye. Ratchet doing the same while remaining on his spot.

The door shut behind you. You let out a small. Breath that you’re sure he wouldn’t hear. “Phew. He’s getting worse every day.”

You started to walk to Rodimus and the others. Clocking in and greeting the others as you pass by. Rodimus was already waiting for you inside as he was holding a data pad and was speaking to Rodimus.

He would turn to you once Ultra Magnus walked away to speak to Springer.

Rodimus with his usual grin soon greeted you. “Hey! There’s my favorite bodyguard!”

You chuckled as you walked closer to stand by him. “How are the Mrs? Still cranky about you coming to work instead of staying home?”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you responded. “He tried his best again this morning to keep me from coming in. He was more upset than he usually was before.”

Rodimus let out a chuckle. You both make your way to the meeting room.

”I don't understand those two. Drift is a part of my team and yet he gets upset when you come in two.

Honestly, he’s the same guy who asked for today off so he can spend the day having a date with Ratchet. At least I think that’s why.”

You were a bit confused and spoke.

“Strange, Ratchet never said anything about having a date with Drift today. More like just angry that I was leaving than a night with Drift. Or something.”

You and Rodimus looked at each other then shrugged. Once in the room, Rodimus took his seat. You stood next to him with cervos behind your back.

Another guard on the other side of Rodimus as the meeting soon starts.

But the meeting is instructed when the doors to the room open. The door faced toward Rodimus. Who now sat there confused when he saw Drift being the one to open the door. You looked confused as well.

Both you and Rodimus exchange looks before looking back at Drift.

Who made his way over as he spoke. His voice was stern. Something both you and Rodimus weren’t used to hearing.

Drift then asked for the guard on the other side of Rodimus's chair to move so that he may take the spot. The guard looking at Rodimus for permission.

Rodimus gave an unsure nod. The guard walks out of the room. Drift taking the guard's spot.

You stood there while the meeting commenced. During it, you noticed that at the corner of your optic. Drift was glancing at you. You’d then feel a pull in your spark. It’s Drifts.

The meeting lasted for a good while.

You and Drifts spark pulling at each other. He wanted you to look at him while you just wanted him to cut it out. After a couple of hours. The meeting was finally over.

You and Drift waited for Rodimus to stand. Both walked behind him as you made it out of the room. It wasn’t until Rodimus made it to his office.

With both you and Drift in. The door closed is when he finally spoke.

“Drift, what was that? You said you were taking the day off?”

Drift then spoke. “Apologies. I just had a change of Spark.”

You glanced at Rodimus who did the same to you. Then you both looked at him. You finally speaking.

”Drift that was a very important meeting. You can’t come and go as you please-“

”What makes you think you can speak to me like that? Ratchet said you thought about taking the day off. You’re never home and we barely see you.”

”Drift me and you have the same job. And Ratchet is a medic for the ship. Checking patience and most times he isn’t even off the clock since he’s the best on this ship.

I chose to come in because I owe Rodimus to keep working for him. And we’re old friends. You think he doesn’t miss me too?”

You bit back. Driftonly glared at you while Rodimus stood there quietly for a moment.

Rodimus then walked over to Drift and spoke to him.

“Buddy listen. I get it they’re your Conjunx but they have a job just like you. Why don’t you go back to your shared berth room and I’ll let them out early today, alright?”

Drift just stared at him before looking at you. You just stared back at him when he finally responded. “Fine..”

He walked over to you. Place a gentle cervo on your hip and place a soft kiss on the side of your helm. He then gently whispered “I’m sorry, sweetspark. I’ll see you at home.”

From there he walked away. Leaving you and Rodimus alone. You let out a soft sigh before turning toward Rodimus. Who was currently leaning against his desk.

He seemed like he had something on his mind. You then made your way over to him and bow your helm. “Sorry about that. I’m not sure why he did that.”

Rodimus remained still with his arms crossed. He just looked at you as you spoke. After you finish. He then spoke.

”Is everything alright back in the room? I never even Drift acted like this before. And I hope Ratchet isn’t treating to in such a way either. I’ve noticed they’ve been a bit more controlling when it comes to you.”

You just let out a sigh before you spoke with your voice softer and almost tired.

”They’ve been acting like this for a while. I’m not sure why it started but, every day becomes a bigger challenge more and more when all they do is argue with me.”

Rodimus's optics widen a bit before asking once more. “Would it be inappropriate if I ask…….?” You then responded.

“No, they haven’t been able to interface with me because they only end up ruining the moment by trying to make me quiet.

”Quite? That doesn’t sound like them. So they want you to be something like a housewife?” You let out a chuckle. “Yes. That….” You remained silent. You then looked at Rodimus with a more softer expression.

“We’re good friends, right? I can tell you anything?”

Rodimus's smile on his dermas grew a bit wider as he looked at you. “Well if you’re kind enough to listen to my troubles. I hope you can come to me to listen to your troubles.”

He said warmly. Your smile growing a bit. And so you continued.

“Honestly, it’s getting more and more hard to live with them. At times Ratchet seems to try to hold back from hitting me. And Drift is so controlling of what I do and eat. So when we’re in our berth room it’s hard to enjoy their affections.”

You sighed and rested your cervo against the desk. Rodimus stands fully straight from leaning against his desk.

His cervo was placed on your shoulder as he spoke.

”Y/N…Are you in danger?” You looked at him before speaking.

“I don’t believe so. But I….” You remained silent for a moment. “I’m…starting to fall out of love with the two. I. I don’t remember when it started. But I just can’t when I’m around them. I- I want to leave. It’s so miserable there.”

You teared up a little. Feeling yourself sad and shaking a little. Rodimus noticed, taking a step closer and giving you a gentle hug. His helm leaned down next to yours.

You soon return the hug. Crying softly into his shoulder. A few minutes went by until you both pulled away a little.

He then pressed his forhelm against yours. You both stared at each other before he spoke. “Whenever you’re ready or need anyone. My help. I’m just a comm call away. Alright?:”

You continued to smile. Giving him a nod. “Go ahead and continue your shift. I’ll let you know when you’re allowed to leave.”

You thanked him. Bowing your helm once more before making your way out of the room. The day carried on from there. But your spark still felt that pull. This time both Ratchet and Drift.

Unsure of what to say or do once you return.

———————————————————————————-

Before you knew it, your shift was over. Rodimus had let you out earlier. Wishing you a good day. It was just past 2.

You made your way over to your shared berth room. Your spark lets the two know you’re getting closer. As you opened the door, you had forced a smile on your dermas.

Ratchet and Drift were currently making out on the berth. Ratchet sitting on the berth while Drift was on his lap.

Basically in each other's arms. Their kisses filled the room. You ignored them. Locking the door behind yourself and making your way to the counter and washroom.

Putting your sword down. You then closed the door behind you. Getting in the shower to clear your mind. It always helps.

So, as you got started with in-between your frame, you started to think about Rodimus. Not letting it get through your spark so the others won’t know.

On the other side of the door, Ratchet and Drift finally pulled away from their heated kiss.

Drift held the side of Ratchet's helm while he smiled with almost a grin.

Ratchet looking more tired than happy. With a small smile though on his dermas.

The two then turned their helms toward the door for the shower. Then look back at each other. Drift places another passionate kiss. Whispering against the kiss as he stared down at him.

”Let me talk them them. And you go get reservations ready mm?”

Ratchet just nodded while his cervos gave Drift's waist a nice squeeze after gently rubbing them while kissing.

Drift then made his way off him. Standing up and walking over to the shower room.

You don’t hear him as you continue to think. There was a shower curtain between while your mind wandered. Still feeling the touch of Rodimus when he hugged you along with the other times you both were affectionate.

Before and after creating a relationship with Drift and Ratchet.

You continue as you rest your cervos against the wall along with your forhelm.

Optics closed. Even thinking about the good times you had with Drift and Ratchet before their actions and responses started to act differently.

You continued until you felt two arms wrap around you from behind.

You remained still and turned your helm towards the side to look at him. His helm was next to yours. Along with the front of his frame against the back of yours.

Your helm then resumed facing the wall while he spoke.

”I’m sorry for my behavior this morning sweetspark. I never meant to embarrass you.”

His cervo then gently held your chin making you turn your helm towards him like before. His smile is still there. “Won’t you face me sweet spark?”

You hold back a sigh. Slowly turning around as the shower oil falls behind him.

You then leaned your back against the wall. His cervos remain around your waist, keeping you close. His forhelm against yours while he kept smiling.

Your arms go around his arms and cervos holding the back of his shoulders. You both stare at each other before he starts another kiss.

This one is heated and passionate. His first kiss to you on the dermas of the day.

You hesitated, not really in the mood. But you know he’ll get mad at you if you don’t respond. And so, you returned the kiss. Trying to give the same passion in return to him. This continued for several minutes.

He soon forced his glossa past your dermas. The shower sounds out his moans and his cervos gripping the sides of your waist and back. Before moving to your aft.

He pressed you harder against the wall, his panel against yours. Trying to get some more action out of you. His cervos movin to under your things. Making them wrap around his waist once he picked you up.

Your back frame is still pressed against the wall. Your cervos moving to hold the side of his helm.

You know what he wants.

But while he continued you both then feel a very strong pull through both sparks from Ratchet. Drift pulled away a little and let out a chuckle. He then looks back at you.

”Someone’s getting jealous. I suppose he should get back to Mr. grumpy pants.”

Your fake smile is still there as you give him a nod. He gives another long and lustful kiss this time. Holding each other close until you both felt it was time to get out.

You both then walked out. His cervo holding yours after cleaning up.

Ratchet was ready for your date tonight. The three of you make your way to your favorite place to eat on the ship.

————————————————————————————-

You stayed quiet the entire time. The three of you sitting at a round and circled booth as you waited for your energon. Being between the two as they chatted.

Their cervos holding each other on the table.

Drifts other cervo holding yours under the table while Ratchet's own remained on the table. The two speak about possibly having a sparkling. And who will carry them.

You just started to zone out. Their weirds became white noise for you as you looked down. You could only let out a sigh before looking at Ratchet.

He was staring at you y the side of his optics while Drift continued. From there, ratchet finally spoke once more once Drift was finished.

“Maybe Y/N should be the carrier. They have the best frame to grow a sparkling and to have carry.” You just stared at him with wide optics.

Drift then let out a sad grown and spoke.

”Why not me?” Ratchet responded with a bit of an annoyed tone.

“Because if you didn’t get rid of those thighs then you would’ve been picked first to carry our sparkling. And besides my body isn’t that well functioned to create a sparkling in my spark chamber.”

Drift just grumbled while you looked back and forth at them. The two looking at you with a small mile. Drift's smile only grew wider than when he spoke.

“What do you say, my love?”

He brought your cervo up, still holding it. Bringing your cervo to his dermas. Speaking once more. “Would you like that, my dear? Be the carrier for both of your Conjunx? That will make us very happy.” He kissed the back of it. You just kept staring at him with optics that showed almost worry. Something Ratchet noticed.

”Sweetspark? Do you not like that idea?” Ratchet asked. Scooting a bit closer to you before speaking. You stumbled with your words.

You looked across the table. Looking at the exit the two stared at you.

You finally spoke. Your only way out. “I need to freshen up. I wasn’t able to fully before we left.” The two just stared at you for a moment.

Glancing at each other. Ratchet looked back at you. Reluctantly he scoots down the seat to give you a path. You got out and as you stood Ratchet grabbed your wrist and whispered.

“Don’t take too long. Our Energon will be ready.” You just gave him a nod.

He finally letting your cervo go.

You made your way to a room next door. A place for bots to freshen out and polish a bit. Like for dates and such. Once in you just stared in the mirror.

Rodimus words flowing in your mind. You take in a deep breath and walk out. Making your way towards the two. Both seem like they’re in deep conversation. That’s until they noticed you.

You decided to sit next to Drift where he’s in the middle. Before he can get out to let you get in the booth. He let out a soft chuckle before scooting closer to you and placing his cervo on your lower back.

Whispering into your audio sensors with a smile.

”Sweetspark, you’re always in the middle.” You glanced at him and spoke. All the while ratchet just watched. You responded.

”I just wish to sit here, sweetspark. Is that alright?” You forced another smile.

Drift just stared at you. His optics show he wishes to do and say something. But he’s holding back. The energon soon comes and is placed in front of you three. Drift takes the spot in the middle.

The dinner continued while you all ate in silence. From there young mind wondered.

Until you finally gained your courage. “Um. Ratchet. Drift. I’ve been thinking and I think now is a good time to…speak.”

The two just glanced at you before looking back at their food and seemed to not pay much mind. You continued. Your voice is soft and steady as you plan out your words as carefully as you can.

“Drift. Ratchet. I’ve loved all these years and times together but……I” Ratchet soon interrupted you.

”Come now Y/N. You’d be a great carrier for both our sparklings. And of course, Drift will carry my sparkling. You carry both of ours. The perfect balance. If you’re still unsure then we can talk about it back in the berth room.”

Drift nodded in agreement.

You just looked down at your food. Tired and unsure. And so, the dinner continued.

————————————————————————————��

After dinner. The three of you made your way to your shared berth room. Ratchet gripping you cervo while you just looked down.

Unsure while walking, your spark grows more and more nervous each moment.

Once upon return, Ratchet let both you and Drift step in first. Once the door closes behind him. His arms wrapped around your waist. Pressing a soft kiss on top of your shoulder.

Letting his helm remain next to yours as he looked down. His optics glance at you with a stare.

”You’re not trying to make us sad now, are you? Make us miserable or lonely. You love us don’t you?”

His voice was deep for a moment. He just stared at you a moment longer. You struggled to find your voice. Drift coming up to you.

His cervos holding the side of your helm and he leaned his own closer to yours.

”You love us. Don’t you sweetspark?”

You are trapped. And there’s no escape right now. So, swallow your fear. You finally opened your intake. Giving them a satisfied response.

“I do. I do love you both.” You remained silent. Drift and Ratchet continue to stare down at you. You then spoke once more.

“I just. You both have changed. Not as cheerful or calming as you both once were.” One of Drift's cervos on the side of your helm moved to hold your neck. Giving it a gentle squeeze.

This made you hold your glossa. He optics piercing. Ratchet is the one to speak next.

“Maybe if you didn’t think about other mechs and always leaving to work to be with him! Then we wouldn’t be so damn cruel.” Ratchet's arms gripped you tightly. You stumbled with your words.

“I-I don’t mean to. It’s just-“

”Just. What?” Ratchet spoke. Drift finally let his cervos off you. Walking over to the large berth and sitting down. Ratchet then turned you around by the shoulders, gripping your arms tightly.

Then keeping you close while his voice remained deep and stern.

”After we have our sparklings. You’ll realize, your place is with us. So get that damn bot out of your mind and thoughts. You took an oath to be faithful. So be it. You going to stop acting up?”

His helm is close to yours now. Right in your face.

You just stand there staring at him. What else can you even say? “Y-yes Ratchet. I’m sorry”

He remained silent for a moment. Drift has gotten into the birth. Energon cups ready for the both of you with his usual smile. Ratchet cervos moves to hold your hips and press his forhelm against yours. Pressing forward, forcing your forhelms to touch.

His spark giving you a lot of pressure. Ratchet gave you a small smile when you submitted. Releasing a deep chuckle.

“There’s my Sweeetspark. Why don’t we lay together…and think of sparkling names. Hm? Doesn’t that sound nice?” You just gave a nod.

His dermas connect with yours with soft passion.

Drift watching with glee as Ratchet tries to start a make-out session. You thought being the first to pull away.

”Let’s uh..lay down yeah?” Ratchet let out a deep chuckle. He guiding you to the berth with him. You of course being put in the middle. You decided to sit up.

Drinking your energon while Drift placed soft kisses on your shoulder.

Ratchet drinking his then lying down. Drift whispering into your audio sensors but loud enough for Ratchet to also hear.

”Well since we figured all that out. Why don’t why try to fix up the mood. Hm?”

He spoke, his cervo moving to your thigh, then just over your panel. Ratchet just rolled his optics. You turned your helm to him a little.

About to speak but he was fast to beat you to it. Placing his dermas on yours while his cervo started to rub against your panel.

You kiss unsure, Drift doesn’t seem to care. His cervos gently pushed you back into the berth while he continued. Ratchet looked at you both before turning his frame to face you both.

Your frame started to panic when you heard Drift's panel click. You thought fast.

Pulling away from the kiss. Your cervos gently presses against Drift's shoulders. He seemed to be upset as he stared down at you. “I’m..really tired tonight. Maybe another time. Once my attitude gets better?”

Drift just stared at you. Before letting out a deep chuckle. “I suppose you have a point my dear…sleep well my love.”

He layed on his side of the berth. Lying on his back. A grin on his dermas while his optics closed. You remained on your back. You glance at Drift before looking at the ceiling.

Ratchet returned to his back. His arm making its way under you and bringing you closer.

Soon making you lay on your side. Your cheek on his shoulder. His arm around your waist. He then whispered. His voice is both low and threatening.

“You’re quitting your job tomorrow. Or else.”

His optics glared down at you. You just stared at him before looking down You remained quiet. Then looked away closing your optics.

Feeling his cervo press into your stomach. You both fall asleep in silence. At least. The two did.

——————————————————————————————

It was late at night. Still in Ratchet's arm. Only switching positions. You were still on your side while Ratchet was on his side then. Both arms are wrapped around your waist.

Drift on his side behind you with both arms around both you and Ratchet as much as he can.

Are you still awake. Very slowly, you move your frame to sit up. Make sure to move Drifts and Ratchet arms off you. Sliding up. Be as careful as you can. Falling off the berth with a small thud.

You checked. Seeing the two haven’t woken up. The two initiatively cuddled each other while letting out soft hums.

Slowly you stood up and made your way to the door. Your frame shaking a little. Just as your cervo was about to reach for buttons to the door.

You felt a hard pull in your spark. Causing you some pain. Looking behind you, you say Ratchet sitting up. Drift still fast sleep.

You slowly walked back. Knowing he’ll get more mad if you don’t. You felt your frame struggling to stop shaking from fear.

Once in front of him, you just looked down. Ratchet gently patting his thigh. Telling you to sit on his lap. Slowly you moved your legs over his. Take your place on his lap. Your knees against the berth.

You looked down at him. While his optics stared up at you with a dim light in his optics. His cervos placed their selves on your hips. Having a very firm and tight grip keeps you very close. He would whisper in a deep voice.

“We both know Drift is out like a light right now. So tell me. Why were you about to leave?”

You stumbled with your words. “I-I just. The idea of having sparkling scared me. We don’t even. Have our own house or more than one room!” You whispered in a hushed tone.

He then spoke to you once more. “Well…that’s an understandable reason I suppose. But. You should come to me first. I am a doctor….Why don’t we go to the shower room? We don’t wish to wake up Drift now do we?”

You just nodded. Getting off his lap slowly. His cervo holding your wrist and guiding you to the shower center in the room. The door closed behind him.

“Sit on the counter.” You do so. Your back towards the mirror. Ratchet made sure the door was locked. Soon standing in between your legs. Cervos on your thighs.

”Now Y/N, what will you do tomorrow when you wake up?” You just stare at him before responding. “G-give my notice t-that I’m Q-q-quitting.”

He responded with a smile. “Good. And what will you do after that?”

”Carry….carry both your and Drift sparklings. Become a carrier to both sparkling f-for the rest of my life alongside you and Drift.” One of his cervos gently held your chin.

The grip is very strong. “I’m sorry if I scared you sweetsaprk. I just can’t imagine a life without you. A life without both you and Drift. You both belong to me. You’d never break my spark, right?”

Slowly you shook your helm. You finally spoke while staring down at him. “Ratchet please-“ Silence.

Your words paused. Before you can process, you realize your helm was turned to the side. Your optics were wide while ratchet remained still. But Ratchet then grabbed you by your arms pulls you off the counter.

Turning around and slams you against the wall behind him. You both still facing each other,

You then felt his frame press harshly against your own. You finally feel the slap on your cheek. Ratchets are all in your face now. An angry expression covered over his own. His tone was rough and hush.

”You think you’re slick? Thinking you can just go around doing as you wish without my knowledge…..” Your helm was turned to the side while he spoke, optics shut tightly. Trying to not cry.

“Try to do this one more time. And you’ll deeply regret it. I say what goes. So be more like Drift and go to sleep. And sleep.”

Your frame continued to shake. Waiting for Ratchet to just do whatever he needed to do next. Flinching when you felt him press the front of his helm to your sigh.

“I’m sorry my sweetspark. I get so mad so easily. Why don’t we go la down more before it gets later. After all, you’ll be a stay-at-home carrier.” His cervos have moved to hold your waist. Pulling you closer.

Placing a soft kiss on your sheet and neck.

He then pulled you with him back to the berth. Drift is still peacefully asleep.

You now facing Drift. Ratchet hugging you from behind with a small smile. Small tears fall from your optics. Struggling to keep them in the entire time. The hours went by. And the tears never stopped.

—————————————————————————

That very morning you pretended to be asleep. Drift got up before you and Ratchet like every other morning. You took this chance when you watched him get in the shower.

With ambition on your mind. You made your way out of Ratchet's arms. But his arm squeezed tightly around you.

His dermas close to your audio sensors as he asked. “And where are you going?”

“I…wish to shower with my other Conjunx of course. I-is that alright?” You turned your helm towards his. He just stared at you before nodding.

You made your way out of the berth. Ratchet going back to sleep. You made your way to Drift. Glancing behind you to see Ratchet optics closed. You then had the craziest idea pop into your helm.

This can be your one chance…You looked back at Ratchet. He was soon snoring.

He was always too tired for anything. So with a shaky break, you quietly made your way to the door. You might never get this chance again.

And so, all in one fast motion. You quickly opened the door. And Ran.

Running down the hall past some bots before transforming. Soon feeling a very heavy pull in your spark. It was from Ratchet. You ignored the pain the best you could.

Soon calling Rodimus, who of course sounded cheerful. “Hey! What’s u-“

”Rodimus, please! I need your help! Ratchet and Drift are trying to keep me home and things are getting worse! Just- Just please I need your help!” You interrupt him in a panic. You then feel another heavy pull rom Drift now.

”Alright alright, where are you now?” he asked with worry.

”I’m headed your way. Please if you can help me get away I’ll forever be in your dept!” You were so close now. Rodimus then responded. “Don’t worry, me and Ultra Magnus will keep you safe! Just stay on the call with me!”

You responded. “Ok ok.”

You were got to the doors. Transforming and getting inside. The guards didn’t stop you. Rodimus having told Ultra Magnus to let the guards know.

Once inside Rodimus made his way out of the long hall and hugged you once you got close enough.

Ultra Magnus is there to help comfort you. The two worried since you.

Sounded panicked over the comm. Rodimus kept holding you and asked what happened.

You responded, still in a bit of a panic. “Ratchet. He wants me to quit my job. Last night he hit me and slammed me against the wall when I tried to leave.

They..they want to sparkling trap me and keep me locked up..” You cried in Rodimus's chest.

His cervo rubbed your back while Ultra Magnus informed the others. Rodimus then walked you to his quarters next to his office. You two then heard Drift and Ratchet at the front doors while the guards kept the two back.

Their pull to your bonds getting harder to ignore.

Ratchets' voice booming for you to look at him while you and Rodimus kept walking.

Your frame shaking. Rodimus trying his best to comfort you the best he can. Once he closed the door. He held you as you broke your bond with the two. Causing you much pain. Once the pain was fading.

Rodimus ticked by your side for the rest of the day.

Both Ratchet and Drift are being dealt with.

————————————————————————-

A few months passed since then. Drift and ratchet were sent back to Cybertron for your safety. Everything that happened was kept secret.

Rodimus made sure to give you a room close to his own so he’ll check up on you.

You continued to work for him. You both even grab lunch at times.

Eventually, you felt yourself become more and more safer with the ship and Rodimus. Your old feelings from before everything happened.

Where now coming back to you. Do you mind only having been racing since.

You were unsure if Rodimus even felt the same for you. You start to remind yourself how he’s the leader of an entire ship. He’s either not interested or is seeing someone else.

Trying to get the thoughts out of your mind.

That is, until one day while you were on your shift. Rodimus seemed to be speaking to a purple femme. Those two seem to be close. Never seen or met her before.

You remained still, staring forward when the two walked out together.

The two departed as they both smiled at each other. You glanced but looked away when Rodimus turned to you while the femme walked away.

Rodimus noticed you looking. Casually taking a step towards you as his cervos go behind his back.

You kept looking forward. Your mouthguard is on as your optics look forward.

Rodimus stood next to you, silence between you both for a moment before he finally spoke. “It appears it’s time to start our lunch?” You looked at him before closing your optics, then nodding.

Rodimus's smile grew a bit larger. He then opened his office door, gesturing for you to enter. “Let’s try a different spot this time. Shall we?”

You were a bit surprised but just nodded. Walking in. Take just a few steps in when you hear Rodimus's door closing. He walked behind you.

Placing his cervos on your hips as he spoke next to your audio sensors. “I see you watching me while speaking to that femme. Jealous?”

He teased. You let out a small sigh before responding. Turning your helm a little to look at him. “I just had no idea you had a Conjunx. Curious was all.”

He let out a deep chuckle. Moved to step in front of you as he spoke. “That femme is my oldest friend. And she’s Skids Conjunx.” You were surprised. “Oh.” You said surprised.

He continues to smile down at you. His cervos holding your chin to make you look at him after you just looked down. You stared at him as he spoke once more. “Come on, let's have some energon. Shall we?”

He walked to his desk. You soon follow behind. Having a nice lunch together, for the day.

Tags: @acceptme33

I got a little too into this BUT MAN WAS IT WORTH IT UGH!!!!!! I hope you guys were able to enjoy this. I didnt feel like making a sad ending with this one.

As always a repost is appreciated and i hope to you guys in the comments and the next one!

[justaparsec94]

Revelations

Summary: Needing a little help Rex tracks down his favourite civilian mechanic from the war.

Pairing: Rex x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,129

*********************

Rex had once believed that the end of the war would mean an end to the fighting, an end to losing his brothers, and an end to the never-ending number of problems he had to deal with on a daily basis. How wrong he had been. Sometimes, when he lay awake at night, staring up at the ceiling he couldn’t quite believe how things had ended. His heart ached when he thought about it too much, the faces of all of his brothers flashing across his mind. Visions of the smoke from the Venator as it lay crumbled against the earth haunted him in his dreams. Jesse, Kix, Cody, General's Skywalker and Kenobi, all gone. Lost to the Empire. But worst of all were the thoughts of how meaningless his life had actually been. He hadn’t been a soldier, he'd simply been a pawn in someone else's game. That was what kept him up most at night. And it was that thought that continued to drive him to help his brothers, to fight back against The Empire in any way that he could. 

It was what currently had him stalking through one of the mid-levels of Coruscant as the sun began to dip into the evening. It wasn’t as risky as being up on one of the upper levels where the Coruscant Guard routinely patrolled but still close enough to the surface to put him on edge. But desperate times called for desperate measures. 

He kept his head down as he went, he had left his armour back at base so he knew most people wouldn’t give him a second look but months of hiding had made him extra cautious. He slowed as his destination came into view, his head swivelled a few times, checking to make sure he wasn’t being tailed before he headed over to the garage across the street. It was a small garage but well kept, the lights inside still shone brightly out into the street as he neared the door. He knew it would likely be closing shortly so he would have to make this quick. 

A bell chimed as he stepped through the door, a quick scan of the shop revealed the front was empty at first but he heard movement in the back almost instantly. 

Rex released a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding as your figure stepped out of the back and behind the counter. His heart was suddenly beating in his chest wildly at the sight of you. There had been very few days since the end of the war where he hadn’t thought about you, hadn’t worried about what might have happened to you. He had thought he would never see you again but now that he was every confusing feeling he had harboured for you for years was slamming back into him. 

“Hey there, how can I…” You started before you slammed to a halt, your entire body freezing and your eyes widening as you took in the sight of him. 

“Hi,” He greeted sheepishly, waving at you when the feeling of needing to do something with his hands overwhelmed him. 

“Rex…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you stared at him. 

Before he could even think of what to say next you had launched yourself over the counter in a blur of movement, throwing yourself into him and crushing him a hug. 

He chuckled nervously as his hands wrapped around you instinctively. He tried his best to ignore the heat that was suddenly pooling in him at the feeling of your body being so tightly pressed up against him. He’d always had armour on to protect him in the past anytime this had happened.

You pulled away from him after a moment but your hands stayed gripping his biceps, as though you were worried he was about to slip away again. Your face was paler than normal as you looked up at him with wide eyes, “I heard that you went down with the ship, they said you were dead. I-I thought you were dead, Rex.” 

He chuckled darkly as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck nervously, “Well, only one of those things is true, clearly.” 

His words seemed to break the tension in the room and you chuckled softly, a grin finally splitting your face as you let your hands fall away from him. He found himself mourning the loss of your touch but he tried his best to push that thought aside. He was here on a mission after all, and not one of a personal nature. 

“Gosh, I can’t believe you’re really here,” You said with a breathy laugh, “I missed you.” 

Your admission did something funny to his insides but again he tried his best to ignore the feeling, “It’s harder to get rid of me than one might expect.”

You laughed, “Clearly, but I’m glad for it.” 

The two of you simply stared at one another for a long moment. Rex could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he looked at you. You didn't look any different than the last time he had seen you, you were still so kriffing beautiful. He watched as your brow furrowed slightly as your own eyes finished their appraisal of him.

“What are you doing here Rex?” You asked, “You - you don’t look like you’re with The Empire,” You said the second part hesitantly, as though you were afraid to hear his answer. 

“I’m not, I’ve uh - defected,” He answered, for lack of a better term. The fact that he was listed as KIA sort of negates the term but it’s close enough to the truth, “Are you still…” he started though he was somewhat unsure of how to ask the question. 

You had once been, in his opinion, the finest civilian mechanic the GAR had under contract. Rex had met you only days after the first battle of Geonosis, back when you had both still been shiny. He had taken an instant liking to your quick wit and easygoing nature, plus no one could fix a ship as efficiently as you could. The two of you had remained friends throughout the war. You had often been stationed on Coruscant at the main base but there had been many occasions when you had accompanied the 501st on their missions. Those times had been his favourite and if he had made extra trips to the flight deck during those missions it had been completely coincidental, or so he told himself.  

You shook your head, “No, after everything that happened, the Jedi, the clones, being told that you had been killed…” You trailed off momentarily, biting your lip before you looked back up at him, “I saw what was happening and it became pretty clear pretty quickly that it was not something I wanted to be a part of any longer. My dad was ecstatic to have me back in the garage though.” 

The two of you were silent for another long moment, simply looking at one another. Rex hadn’t thought it would be possible but his respect for you only grew at the knowledge that you had left The Empire, seeing it for what it truly was.

“Do you know what happened to the others?” You asked hesitantly after a moment, “Jesse? Kix? Echo? Cody?” The list could have gone on and on, you had been friends with many of the boys. 

His heart wrenched at the thought of his brothers, he didn’t know if he had it in him to tell you the truth. Jesse who had died trying to kill him and Ahsoka, his actions not his own. Kix, who had vanished only weeks before the end of the war never to be seen again. Cody, who was still with The Empire or worse. He settled on simply shaking his head instead, the answer was too complex and he knew you would get his meaning. 

Overwhelming sadness flashed in your eyes and he instantly hated the fact that he had been the one to put it there. He tracked your movements as you reached out to rest a hand on his arm comfortingly, “I’m so sorry, Rex.” 

Rex simply shook his head, he had quickly learned that there really were no words to convey his feelings about all that he had lost. 

Sensing his discomfort you quickly changed course, which he was very appreciative of, “So, what are you up to now then?” 

“Uh…” He faltered. He trusted you, he did, he always had. But it wasn’t just his life that would be in danger if word were to get out what he was up to. Not only that, but he couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger by roping you into things more than his being here already had. He cursed himself internally for having not come up with a better answer to this inevitable question. 

Your eyebrow raised but instead of suspicion there was only amusement dancing in your eyes, “Let me guess, it’s classified?” 

He felt his face flush slightly but he was relieved by your response, “Sorry, it’s not just me who would be at risk if something were to happen.”

“Say less, Captain,” You replied with a laugh, patting his arm reassuringly, “But what brings you to me?”

“I’m looking for a specific part for a ship. I was hoping you might be able to help me out,” Rex replied. The Remora had taken a direct hit on their last mission. Echo had done his best to try and repair it but a part of the stabilization system had been beyond his ability to fix and without it they were effectively grounded. The Martez sisters had done their best to find the part but hadn’t yet had any luck and Rex was beginning to grow desperate. The longer they were grounded the fewer brothers they were likely to save. Echo had suggested simply stealing a new ship but Rex hadn’t wanted to draw that much attention to them. At least not until they had no other option.  

“Sure thing,” You replied happily before you turned and headed back towards the counter, “What are you looking for?” 

He followed after you as you slipped behind the counter. You disappeared momentarily as you bent down behind the counter before you re-emerged with your data pad in hand. He gave you the specifics of the part, his fingers drumming anxiously against the countertop as he watched you scroll on your data pad. 

“I don’t have anything in stock right now,” You replied with a soft frown, “But I should be able to get it with no problem. It might just take a few days to have it shipped from a warehouse.”

This was exactly why you were his favourite, “Really? That’s great. What will I owe you?” Thanks to Senator Chuchi's support paying for the part wasn’t an issue. 

You shook your head before giving him a cheeky grin, “Don’t worry about it Rex, you get the friends and family discount.”

“I can’t…” He protested but was cut short. 

“Ah ah,” You said, waving your hand at him dismissively, “None of that. Besides, a dead man’s credits won’t really do me any good,” You teased as you set your data pad aside and leaned your elbows on the counter, propping your chin up on your hands as you looked up at him. 

He wanted to protest further but he had learned years ago that arguing with you once your mind was set got him absolutely nowhere, “Thank you,” He said sincerely. You really were his favourite. 

You smiled brightly at him, “No problem Rex. How should I get ahold of you once the part comes in?” 

He reached out to grab a stylus and piece of flimsy from off the counter, “Here’s my private comm channel, just give me a call and I’ll come and grab it,” He paused momentarily, considering, “This is Echo’s. If you can’t get ahold of me, try him,” With his line of work he never really knew which day could end up being his last. He knew that if something were to happen to him his brother would continue on with their mission without a doubt. 

“Echo’s with you?” You asked, perking up as you took the flimsy from him. The last time you had seen Echo he had still been with The Bad Batch. 

He nodded, “It’s a long story.”

You laughed, “Classified?”

Rex chuckled softly, “No, just long.”

“Well, maybe you can tell it to me when I get that part in,” You replied with another soft smile that made his face flush. 

He simply nodded, trying his best to ignore the heat that was once again pooling in his stomach at the mere sight of you, “I think I can manage that.”

“Good, I’ll see you later then Captain,” And before he even fully knew what was happening you had leaned over the counter, stretching up onto the tips of your toes to plant a swift kiss on his cheek. 

“I’ll uh, yah, later. I’ll be seeing you, then. Later.” He stammered as absolute fire burned in his face. He could still feel the weight of our lips against his cheek as he stepped away from the counter. Your eyes were sparkling with amusement as you watched him make his hasty retreat which only made the feelings churning inside him even worse. He spun around and marched towards the door, determined to get out before he did something else embarrassing. 

“Rex,” You called after him just as he reached the threshold, causing him to pause and spin back in your direction, “I’m really glad to see you. I’m very happy you’re not dead.” 

He couldn’t manage more than a nod, his brain apparently having left him completely. With a final wave, he stepped out into the cool night air of Coruscant, breath filling his lungs once more as he made his way back towards base. You might be his favourite, but he wasn’t entirely convinced that you weren’t going to be the death of him. 

*******

Just as they had during the war, the days blurred together for Rex. There was always something that needed doing, intel to collect, supply runs, people to meet. His to-do list was endless. He let out a deep sigh, his attention still focused on his data pad as he walked back into the Martez sister's garage, their temporary base. He had just finished meeting with Senator Chuchi and while their meetings always went well, the woman was unwaveringly kind and supportive, he was tired. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on his makeshift bunk in the back and stay there for the rest of the day. But as always, duty called, and he would answer. 

He lifted a hand in greeting as he strode past Howzer and Nemec, the motion almost automatic as his eyes remained glued to the data that he was currently scrolling through on his datapad. 

He stopped short suddenly though as the sound of familiar laughter reached his ears. His head snapped up and his gaze instantly zeroed in on the source. For a moment he thought he was dreaming because you couldn’t possibly be standing in his base, laughing with his brother as the two of you were huddled under the hull of The Remora.

As if sensing his presence your head turned towards him and you gave him a cheerful wave, “Hiya Rex!”

He frowned, so much for keeping you safe and out of the loop. He turned his narrowed gaze towards Echo who was looking suddenly sheepish from where he was kneeling by your side. They would be having words later. 

With a sigh, Rex walked over towards you, his data pad long forgotten as he focused on where you were clearly working on the ship. The answer was obvious but he asked the question anyway, “What are you doing here?”

“The part came,” You chirped, still smiling brightly up at him, “I tried to call you but couldn’t reach you so I comm’d Echo. He told me to bring the part down and then I figured I might as well give him some help with the repairs.” 

Rex cursed softly as he looked at his comm, sure enough, he had a missed call. Likely from when he had been in his meeting with the Senator and had silenced the device. 

“She is the expert after all,” Echo said, his pale eyes brimming with amusement as he looked between you and Rex. It only made Rex frown more. 

Rex steadily ignored his brother, turning his attention back to you instead, “How are the repairs coming?”

“All done actually,” You replied, “Just closing her up, and then she’ll be good to go!”

“I’ll uh, let you two discuss logistics while I go start her up,” Echo said as he stood. You gave Echo a nod and a brief smile before you turned your attention back to tightening the last of the bolts. He patted Rex on the shoulder as he passed him, a grin on his face that Rex did not like the look of. Sometimes, with everything Echo had been through and all of the changes he had undergone, Rex forgot that Echo still had the ability to be a little shit when he wanted to be. The relationship between the two of you, even though Rex had insisted it was completely professional, had not been a secret to the boys in the 501st. 

Rex stood silently as you finished up the repairs, unable to pull his eyes away from you as you went about putting your tools away. A sharp intake of breath escaped him as you paused to pull your hair back from your face, piling it onto your head and pining it quickly in place. His eyes traced the curve of your neck as heat pooled his stomach. 

Likely sensing his gaze you looked towards him as you stood up, your eyebrows raised questioningly as amusement swum in your eyes. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked with a soft chuckle, a wide grin on your face as you clipped a wrench back onto your tool belt. 

Rex felt like his brain was malfunctioning, his face flushed as you smiled brightly at him. There was a gleam in your eyes that set his heart pounding against his rib cage. He hadn’t meant to stare, he just couldn’t stop himself it seemed. Whenever you were around it was as if nothing else existed for him. It had always been like that, but apparently, he had used to be better at hiding it. 

Because you’re beautiful was the first coherent thought that came to mind. It was only after he noticed your eyes widen and your grin become absolutely beaming that he realized he had actually said that out loud. 

“Well, thank you, Captain, that’s very kind of you to say,” your cheeks flushed just ever so slightly while he stood there like an absolute di’kut hoping a pit would open beneath him and swallow him whole. It was too late to take it back now though. Not that he ever would take it back. He truly meant it so he couldn’t reverse course now without coming across as intentionally cruel. 

“I-“ he started then stopped, completely at a loss for words as his face burned with embarrassment. This was all Echo’s fault, somehow. 

“Is that a conclusion that you’ve just recently come to? Because you sound somewhat surprised,” You teased which only made him flush further. 

If he had been floundering before it was nothing compared to what he was doing now, “No...no...I...what?”

You let out a bright laugh, stepping closer to him and resting a gentle hand on his arm. He was once again glad to be back in his armour because even through it he could feel the heat of your touch. 

“I’m just teasing you Rex,” You replied with another laugh, smiling up at him.

He still didn’t know what to say so instead he simply nodded. His attention was still focused entirely on you as you suddenly stood on your tip toes, the whisper of your voice against his ear sent a shiver down his spine, “I'll let you in on a little secret though. I’ve always thought you were beautiful too.”

With another gentle laugh, you pulled away from him, patting him on the arm once more before you move away. Leaving him standing there, completely dumbfounded as you waved up at Echo in the cockpit, giving him the all-clear to start up the ship. 

The Remora rumbled to life, engines running smoothly once more. He continued to watch, clearly incapable of focusing on anything else, as you gave Echo a thumbs up before returning to his side once more. You looked up at him, a warm and somewhat expecting look on your face. After years of knowing you and being on the receiving end of that look many times before he knew exactly what was coming next. 

“So,” You started, “Echo gave me the run down of what you’ve got going on here. I want to help you, in any way possible.”  

Rex felt himself tense up, “It’s dangerous. I can’t ask you to put yourself in harm's way for us. If The Empire…”

You cut him off, “The Empire can stuff it for all I care, Rex. I want to help you. What you’re doing here is important. I might not be a soldier but I know I can still help you.” 

“If something happened to you…” He started, his insides freezing at just the thought alone. If anything ever happened to you on his watch he didn’t know how he would live with himself. He had already lost so much. But he knew from the determined look in your eyes that he was fighting a losing battle. 

You stopped him again, this time with your hand as you reached out to grab his own. It had the intended effect, shutting him up completely as his gaze flicked between your face and your joint hands.

“It’s worth the risk, Rex,” you said as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “Please, let me help.” 

He let out a weary sigh, “Alright," He might be clueless about a lot of things when it came to you but he knew when to admit defeat. 

You smiled up at him brightly, fingers still interlaced with his own, “Thank you. It looks like you're stuck with me after all Captain,” Rex couldn’t help but smile at the comment. It was a throwback to better days when you used to gripe about always being assigned to the 501st for missions. You still weren't aware that he had been the one specifically requesting for your assignments.  

"There are far worse problems to have,” he teased softly, “and just Rex is fine. I’m really not a Captain anymore.”

“Old habits die hard, Rex,” you replied with a shrug, “I should head back to the garage though. I’ll swing back around later though and we can discuss logistics.”

Rex nodded, though he was suddenly very aware that you were still holding his hand. Noticing his gaze you smiled up at him and for the second time that week you were moving before he could make sense of it. Your lips were soft against his cheek, the feeling of them once again setting his insides on fire and making his pulse race beneath your skin. Too soon in his opinion, you pulled away from him. He watched you walk away, his eyes never leaving you as you left the garage. You gave him one final wave that he returned before you disappeared from sight. He could still feel the ghost of your lips against his skin as he stood there, completely lost in thought. 

“So…” Rex didn’t even need to turn to know that Echo was suddenly standing beside him. 

“Don’t even start,” Rex grumbled, turning towards him and levelling a glare at him, “You and I are going to have to have a talk about maintaining secrecy.” 

“Sir yessir,” Echo chuckled, knowing Rex’s words were all bluster. He gave him a mock salute with his scomp before he wandered off, leaving Rex alone with his thoughts. He really should move, he had a lot of work to do but he had the feeling he wasn't going to be very effective for the rest of the day. Not unless he could convince himself that he wasn’t actively counting down the hours until he would see you again. 

[heartofroses112]

Our Own Choices First Draft — Fox and Bly confronting Cody

Bly and Fox shared one last, long look before Bly activated the panel. The doors slid open on near silent tracks. There, across the room, standing by the thick transparisteel window and gazing out into the ever-changing space outside of their ship, stood the Commander. Cody. His helmet was off, nowhere to be seen in the large room.

The way he held himself, arms clasped behind his back and stance strong, was so obviously Cody. Bly didn’t know how he had never seen it before. Well, he had seen it. He’d just thought it impossible. Fox had found reports, had heard it directly from the slimeball Emperor himself of Cody’s death. But here he was, standing before them, fighting alongside them and their brothers for fourteen long years without so much as a hint to his identity.

Bly and Fox made their way across the room, footsteps muffled but just loud enough as to give their movement away. Bly rubbed his arms, wishing for the warmth of his armor. Space was cold. But the plastoid was constricting. It wouldn’t allow him to drag Cody into the bone-crushing hug he had been yearning for since the dramatic asshole had whipped off his helmet and insulted Palpatine in so many colorful ways that he must have spent years coming up with them.

Bly stepped up to Cody’s left side, staring out into space along with him. Fox stopped on Cody’s right, and for several long moments, the three of them stood in silence.

Finally, Bly could not take anymore. “Why?” he said.

“There’re a dozen answers to that question. All depends on what you’re asking.”

Bly choked on a laugh. He’d forgotten how snarky Cody chose to be when it was just their batch. And Rex, but, well, he was practically a part of their batch at this point. He had been, at least. “You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“Then you know my answer.”

“Cody.” Fox cut in, sharp and straight to the point. Out of the corner of his eye, Bly watched the full-body shudder that wracked through Cody. Bly ignored the tight pang in his chest at the hidden motion. “We thought you were dead.”

“And so did I.”

Bly frowned. “We’ve been here for the past two years at least. That’s plenty of time when you could’ve told us. Hell, what about your own men from the 212th? They’ve been here since the beginning, and they’ve been mourning their commander this whole time.”

“Until I arrived on that planet and saw your faces, I was convinced you were both dead.” Cody still hadn’t looked at them. “After the Order went out… I looked for you. But Rex was killed when they turned on Tano. Wolffe was confirmed MIA almost immediately. Fox, you, you were always at the Chancellor’s side, I couldn’t risk that you would ever join me.”

His voice was flat and without any inflection. “So that left you, Bly. But a week later, all I found were reports that you ate your blaster.”

Fox sucked in a breath.

“And I thought about… I thought that maybe… I wondered if you made the only right choice left.” His whispered words should have died at their ears. Instead, they ricocheted around the cold, steel room. “Bly, you were the one I wanted to see most. Because you…” Cody sighed, eyes falling shut even as his head tilted backward. “You were the only one who could understand.”

“Understand what?” Bly thought he knew. There was really only one thing Cody could have meant by that. But how could Bly have never known before now?

Cody’s eyes opened, gaze locked on the rivets along the outer wall. “You loved your general. And I lov—” He cut himself off, tearing his eyes away to instead stare at the ground. “I love—” He tried again.

“Oh, Cody.” Bly’s heart was in his throat, breaking into pieces for the pain that was still so clearly etched across his brother’s face. There was a reason Cody wore his helmet more than the rest of them; he’d never been able to hide his true feelings when he was just so damn expressive. It’s how Wolffe had known if he had pushed Cody too far when they were still just cadets. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Rex told me to wait,” he said simply. “He thought it would be funny if you all saw me and… If you guessed. It wasn’t hard, apparently.” He loosed a breath from between his teeth. “Course, then the Order went out.”

“Cody, I’m so sorry.” Again, Cody shuddered at the sound of his name. Bly longed to drag his brother into his arms. But Cody wasn’t ready for that yet, not after so many years with no more contact than the mission required.

“It can’t be changed.”

“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” Fox murmured, stepping slightly closer to Cody. “And you’ve kept this inside for so long.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Bly asked, suddenly so full of rage at the self-imposed exile his brother placed himself in. “We’ve been here for years now, Cody. And it’s not just us. What about everyone from the 212th? They’ve been mourning their commander, their brother for so long and you’ve just been here the whole kriffing time?”

“I will not expect you to understand my actions.”

“Damnit, Codes, we want to talk to you, not the karking Commander! We’ve been around him enough.” Fox glowered at the side of Cody’s head. But Cody still didn’t look at either of them.

“He’s all that’s left.” Cody’s voice was devoid of emotion. He returned to looking out the viewport, the light of distant stars reflecting on his face. “Cody died the day he shot down his General and felt no remorse.”

“It was the chips,” Fox tried.

“I was still the one to follow the Order. And then my brothers were dying around me, and my batchmates were gone, and there was no one left to understand how I felt, and there was so much riding on my fucking shoulders. So, you do not get to come in here and lecture me. There is nothing else I have wanted more than to look at my brothers without a karking helmet between us, to actually be with them and not just be the karking Commander!”

Cody’s chest heaved, his fists clenched tight against his thighs. Fox and Bly exchanged a look, the same expression of worry and hurt flashing between them. Cody turned and paced several steps away from them. “You have no idea,” he started, voice low and tightly controlled, “how hard it has been this past decade, to see you, my closest brothers, and not be able to lessen your grief, to not hold you close and feel safe.”

“No one is making you do this.” Bly felt as if he were pleading, begging a brother to step back, step off the ledge.

Cody sighed, eyes still squeezed shut. “I know. But… I don’t deserve… I can’t… How can I be happy, Bly, when I killed him? I love, I loved, I loved him, and he loved me too. How can I ever forgive myself when the last thought he probably ever had was of how the men he trusted with his life were now the ones taking it?”

Bly stared at his brother. He had so much pent-up… self-hatred. Disgust with himself. Loathing of his actions that had not been his own actions at all. There was a distinct prickling at the back of Bly’s eyes as he watched Cody desperately try to hold the pieces of himself together.

“Cody.” Fox took a step toward Cody.

Cody’s shoulders shook. “Stop,” he bit out.

“Cody,” Fox said again.

Cody turned his head away, eyes still shut. His scar, the scar that was oh so distinctive, the scar that marked him as Cody, the scar Bly had searched for in vain on every brother he met, caught the faint light from above. “Stop it.”

“Let yourself be you again, Cody,” Bly said, closing the distance between them. The pair of them were once more in reach of their lost brother. “Doing this… hiding yourself away in repentance, it’s only letting Palpatine win.”

Cody flinched, but still, he didn’t look at them.

Fox pushed on. “I didn’t know your General well. None of us did, there… there wasn’t time. But I know he fought for our individuality, our sense of self that so much of the Republic tried to wash away. You’ve always been Cody, our Cody. But you never seemed so much like yourself, so confident in who you were and what you fought for, than after you joined Kenobi.”

“He’s dead now,” Cody whispered with a tremble in his voice.

“So, carry on his legacy.” Bly searched his brother’s face, familiar lines that meant upset and anger and stress, tightness in his jaw that meant stubbornness and fear. “Cody, won’t you look at us?”

“The helmet’s gone, Cody,” Fox murmured. “Let us see you. Look at us, please.”

Perhaps it was the ‘please.’ Fox never said it before, not unless the world was ending, or a brother was dying. Slowly, so slowly, Cody turned his head, entire body still trembling. His eyes slid open, and then it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough, gaze flickering between Bly and Fox and never staying still for more than a moment.

“Won’t it be so much more powerful,” Fox said, “when Palpatine is brought down by Cody and Fox and Bly, not just the Commander and his nameless clones?”

“Kenobi and… and Aayla.” Bly stopped, suddenly unable to speak beyond the burning in his throat. He dragged in a breath and continued. “They loved us, Cody. They loved us for who we are. Don’t erase that. Live as Cody, and do it for him. Do it for us, for all the brothers you have rescued. Please, we… we need you. We need Cody far more than we have ever needed the Commander.”

Cody heaved a broken sob, teeth tight against the sound in an attempt to keep it inside. He looked at the wall again, hands clenched around the edges of his armor. Bly fell silent, just watching his brother. If Cody was to come back to them… it would have to be on his own terms. Cajoling and pushing had never worked to make Cody see sense. He always was too stubborn for his own good.

“The Commander is all I know anymore.”

Bly’s heart threatened to break in two. His vision grew blurry. He blinked, hard.

Fox looked similarly affected. But he swallowed. Then he raised his chin and stared Cody down. “If that’s true, if… if you don’t know how to be Cody anymore, then why did you reveal yourself to Palpatine? Why now, after so many years of hiding your face?”

Cody looked at Fox, brow furrowed. “He was threatening you,” Cody said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Fox froze in place. “He scares the shit out of you, Fox, and nothing does that. No one is allowed to do that.” Cody shrugged, eyes still dancing over Fox’s face. “I thought I’d give him a new target to hate.”

Fox still wasn’t moving. Cody sighed and looked away, fingers still digging into his armor. “I… I should go. There’s a lot to do, now that I’ve karked everything up and—”

“Cody,” Fox breathed. “Oh, Cody, Cody, Cody.” He reached out, hands shaking as he brushed the side of Cody’s plastoid-covered arms. Cody stiffened but did not move as Fox dragged him in, crushing him against his chest. Fox was still repeating Cody’s name, burying his face against Cody’s hair, hands tight around his back.

Cody gasped, eyes wide and body trembling like a leaf in a storm. He crumbled into Fox’s hold, pressing his face against Fox’s neck as they clung to each other. “Cody, Cody, my Cody,” Fox continued to whisper like a prayer.

Bly surged forward, sweeping both his brothers into his arms. Bly and Fox squeezed Cody between them, hard plastoid hampering them only slightly. Bly’s forehead rest against the back of Cody’s neck, and his skin felt hot and feverish, a sign of the long, long years without a touch of comfort and love.

Bly couldn’t hold back the tears that trickled down his cheeks, melting down Cody’s neck and into the blacks under his armor. Cody continued to tremble, hands clutching desperately at Fox even as he pressed back into Bly.

“We’re here, Cody. We’re here, we’re here,” Bly murmured. “We have you. Let go, Cody, we have you.”

And so, Cody let go, the grief and anger and hatred that had been building up for over a decade with no outlet finally pouring from him in devastating waves. Cody did not cry, of that Bly was sure. But he trembled and shook and shattered beneath their hands, dry sobs and broken apologies, apologies that Bly meant to return but just could not find the words.

Bly had failed Cody for years, had failed him the day Bly had faked his death and ran from the Empire. But he would not fail him any longer. Cody would never feel alone again, would never feel the same lack of choice and want. Bly would make sure of it. Fox would as well, and the remainder of the 212th, and the 501st, and every brother in between.

For the first time in many, many years, Bly thought of the Jedi, of his Jedi, with only solid resolve. I promise, Aayla. And General Kenobi, if you can hear me. I won’t let him down. I’ll keep him safe. And we’ll avenge you. Palpatine will suffer for all he’s done, to you and to Cody and to everyone else. But for now, Bly kept his batchmates close and held them as if nothing else in the galaxy mattered. Nothing else ever would.

pt 1 | pt 2

[philosophicalpug]

Ship whiteknight?

Why white knight? Well let me show you

So, we will start out with the obvious: beacon. why would I ship this annoying dork with a girl that is clearly not interested and has rejected his advances multiple times? It’s simple, I don’t I ship the jaune that helps people,

See he’s a dumb teenager, they both are, but the key here is that jaune matures, sure the intended comedy left more than a little room for sour interpretation, he stopped and saw that she wanted to be with another, and promptly ceased his advances, this is very key to his characterization that we must forget, he genuinely wants her to be happy. And when Neptune beefs it because of his own insecurities? Jaune doesn’t come in for the rebound or any opportunistic sense, no, he confronts him and makes sure Weiss has a good evening.

Not only that, he follows up on his promise to Pyrrha at the dance, this once more highlights his good qualities, he may not be particularly clever or insightful at times, but when he gets it, he gets it

At his heart, he’s someone who tries his best and wants only the best for others. Rocking the dress while played for laughs, still shows that he will go above and beyond because people matter to him

(Also doing this in front of Weiss is important too, he’s not afraid of acting the fool to his crush, not at all! Hes been setting aside the macho bravado, which is a good thing if he’s ever to be in a real relationship) Now onto some Weiss analysis from the beacon era, pompous, classic rich girl, doesn’t have time for all this nonsense and is a career girl through and through- and though she would never admit it, she’s just as much of a dolt as those that surround her,

But we know she’s come from a terrible household, cold was putting it nicely, her fathers a terrible man who doesn’t love anything except money, her mother is an alcoholic that didn’t love them enough (if at all) her older sister being the only member of family where she’s had  a consistent positive relationship, and she ended up running away to the military, leaving behind all the eldest daughter shield duties and trauma to her, which, boy that was a lot. And her little brother, her father’s favorite, she’s not anywhere near mature enough to confront, separate and acknowledge her feelings for said brother who is being raised to be exactly as detestable as the man that sired him. And what choice does Whitley have? He was so young, and he was left behind. Its safe to say she wants a normal, loving life. Desperately. It’s easy to see it in things like Zwei, how over the moon she was for the little guy, and in winter, how she comes to idolize her and seeks her approval over anyone’s. This girl is STARVED for affection.

With beacon being her chance to spread her wings a bit, it’s also natural to see that she would be interested in pursuing a romantic relationship, at her own pace. It’s no wonder that at first early volumes Weiss didn’t like Jaune-she doubtlessly dealt with the bravado of a dozen boys trying to gain her favor because of her status and wealth. Additionally, jaunes impostor syndrome ultimately bled into his interactions with Weiss as well, he was faking it all in beacon, what’s a little more to impress a girl? it’s not like shed like the real him, right? This and Weiss’s self-image of needing to be this pristine, perfect princess is also a huge factor as to why white knight wouldn’t work at beacon, its simply too early, Jaunes attempts were at the height of both their respective character flaws/failings. There's no WAY it would have worked.

Which is why she gravitated to Neptune, I think it was her trying to get out of her shell and try new things, yet still in the trappings of the “need to be pristine” persona. Thinking about this, seriously, yeah of course she was going to get a crush on Neptune, it’s what she knows except she’s convinced herself that its “different”. This suave guy that’s well dressed, knows what a perfect contrast to jaune doing is. It’s not like Weiss really knows Neptune but she thinks she does, at this stage of her life she’s really ruled by her first impressions of people (Ruby Pyrrha Jaune are some examples)

Back to the dance, an entire night worrying, feeling all sorts of emotions after what is likely the first time she opened herself up to a relationship and she’s been left behind. But of course, she must act like it doesn’t bother her, she’s Weiss Schnee, she’s above little insecurities like that. And along comes Jaune with the dress, she saw him make himself the fool in front of everyone laughing along it was a good time for all.

Lo and behold! When Neptune came back she started asking what happened, that she thought he was too embarrassed, Neptune says that it was Jaune that convinced him to come. The boy she’s rejected time and time again, the one she likely thought no more than a nuisance at best, took it all in stride and made sure she had a good time, he definitively proved himself as someone trustworthy, especially with how “an arc never goes back on their word”. It’s no wonder that at this point many people think it could potentially work out, they both have matured, and Weiss finally sees that while Jaunes attempts were annoying and grating, they were always sincere, especially when you consider he had no idea the significance of the Schnee name before.

This is all a solid foundation to work with, they’ve matured a decent bit from where they started, both now able to see each other in a better light. Its not that they are head over heels for each other, but you can’t deny this works as a solid foundation for a possible relationship down the line

But of course, it’s not all gumdrops and Weiss-cream

FALL OF BEACON Moving onto the fall of beacon the first person jaune calls for help with Pyrrha is Weiss, in his most vulnerable moment he reaches out to her, now could this just be how the writers decided the order of things would go? Sure.  But consider this

I think he believes Weiss to be the best among them, someone who he sees as levelheaded and skilled to do something about it, since her semblance is the most flexible one of them all. If theres anyone who can do something, it’s her.

POST FALL  

They’ve both are in their lowest point, truly where the new versions of themselves are put to the test, and oddly enough, both share a parallel with returning home both wouldn’t choose to go home, but one of them was forced to. Jaune decided to persist with his dream and followed through to help his friends, his loyalty is almost second to none: he was a hack, a fraud, no business being amongst his heroes, a dork at the best of times. The easiest thing he could do is return home. No one would blame him. But he didn’t.

Jaune is loyal, astoundingly so, he has a family, with 7 sisters, he could have gone home after the fall, no one would have thought twice about it. Instead, he stuck through, traveling for weeks through monster infested terrains for his friends with whatever they needed. At this point has been steadily improving, no longer just some punk that doesn’t know what they are doing.

(mans stopped a whole ass charging man-devil-horse -hybrid dead in its tracks, noodle boy has been promoted to Pasta with Beef) And yet...he’s still very affected by the fall, mourning. In the battle of haven he was recklessly pursuing cinder, he’s someone with a lot of pain, someone who clearly doesn’t think themselves as important as those that surround him.

Meanwhile everything in the Schnee manor is shit show, Weiss is back in the middle of her family dynamic, looking to be free once more. She ends up struck by her father, disowned and generally treated with scorn, then she gets kidnapped by bandits afterwards. Theres really nothing Weiss wouldn’t do to find real family. By the time they are all reunited, I think she will notice just how the members of Team J_NR are people to trust and confine in.  Knowing what we know, Nora and Ren  didn’t really have anywhere else to go given they are orphans, so it would make sense for them to follow ruby to haven. But once again, Jaune demonstrates true courage and chooses the hard path. That means something for sure. Skipping to the haven fight again, this is another heavy moment, particularly when Weiss-

Well, Weiss was nothing less than struck down. And what is Jaunes immediate response? The only one he seems to have, to be there, no matter what. And in that instinct to protect, in caring for others, he unlocks the mystery of his soul.

At his core he only wants to help, a selfless desire so strong, so literally suffused in his very essence of being that it actively manifests itself in the world.   

You can’t tell me this means nothing to her. For a girl that has lived in a stifling coffin of a home. To find someone who’s so selfless and caring, despite never once needing to. Finding someone that manages to see her for who she is, who cares for their happiness without asking anything in return. Someone whom despite all they have suffered, still pushes forward to be there every moment they can in service for others. Someone who reached out with their very soul to halt the hand of death, fueling your own to give you the strength to come back, to your loved ones, never once even mentioning it. Is it any real surprise that love is in the cards for these two?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What makes this ship work is all the post beacon stuff, they both have suffered terrible losses yet they still need to push through, they both have matured and see each other for what they really are,  they can both look back on their beacon days and reminisce, laugh about how stupid they were, mourn lost friends and in that, they find comfort.  They have both been given the space to improve and be better, and it’s not hard to see the qualities they would see in each other Jaune is a loyal and loving person, he knows about family and would sooner suffer ills before ever breaking a promise, someone who WILL love someone to the fullest. Weiss may be cold, but she’s a sweetheart under all that, she’s been hurt and desperately wants to love and be loved, something jaune wouldn’t hesitate to do.

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 45

Chapter 45 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Buck and Chris get swept up by the tsunami. Buck tries his best to keep Chris safe and sheltered from the worst of it, however, the receding tide still takes him. Buck has to find him again, he can’t lose Chris, can’t lose their son.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: insecurity, self loathing, injury, minor character death mention, near death experience

~~~

Chapter 45: Just Keep Swimming

A tsunami. Buck honestly isn’t sure why he didn’t expect it with how life has just been one disaster after another lately, but somehow this wasn’t on his planning this morning when he took Chris to the pier.

Sitting here on a fire engine from what he’s pretty sure is Bosko’s unit, surrounded by people he pulled from the water, he regrets not at least calling out a hi to her when he saw her on the pier earlier.

It felt too awkward to so then, since she is housing his husband and he at some point thought said husband was having an affair with her, but now he would kill for someone to know that they’re out here. It was such a spur of the moment thing that he didn’t mention it to anyone. They’re sitting ducks right now.

The only thing that is keeping him sane, is that Chris is right next to him.

He feels horrible about Chris being out here in this with him. If they’d just stayed home today, they wouldn’t have been in this mess. But no, Buck dragged Chris out to the pier, because he wanted to make right that Eddie has been driven away by something involving Buck. Now Chris just has another traumatic event to add to the list. And that’s his fault.

However, now is not the time to focus on how awful he feels, he needs to focus on Chris. Despite the terrible day he’s having, he’s being plenty cheerful. It’s very Chris, and Buck is glad life hasn’t crushed his spirit yet as they play I Spy together.

If the circumstances were different, he might have paid more attention to the other people he pulled from the water. However, no one appeared seriously injured, so as long as that stays the same, he forgives himself for not having the best bedside manners right now.

He’s off the clock anyway and not even officially a firefighter again, he can be forgiven for wanting to focus on his own kid. He did enough already by leaving him alone on the fire engine to pull everyone else out the water. Buck is a firefighter in his heart, so that went without saying, but he’s too tired to divide his attention between everyone else and Chris. Paramedic has always been more Hen or Chimney’s, or even Eddie’s job.

“Okay, I spy with my little eye, something that…” Buck looks to see what he can find. “Moves people around.”

Chris peers around quite adorably at the debris that is floating by to see what Buck is spying. “Oh, a scooter,” Chris realizes quickly, spotting what Buck had spied.

“Ah, yeah, nice one,” Buck says, having hoped it would be a little more difficult to find. He wants to be able to drag this game out as long as he can, so Chris has something to focus on other than the fact that they’re stuck on a fire engine while waiting for rescue or until the water goes down. But he can’t get disheartened yet, so he nudges Chris and prompts: “Okay, genius, your turn.”

“I spy,” Chris looks around much like Buck had a few seconds ago, “a shopping cart.”

“What? No, come on. Hey, that’s not how the game works. You can’t just yell stuff out,” Buck tells him.

“But, papi, yelling stuff out is the fun part!” Chris yells loudly, big grin on his face.

Buck’s heart just bursts with affection. He loves this kid so goddamn much and he is so grateful to the universe that it let him have this, even if it might not be forever, he gets to be here now. He pulls Chris into a side hug, leaning his cheek against Chris’s wet curls as he says: “You amaze me, buddy.”

“Why?”

“I know you’ve had a rough few weeks and you were pretty down yesterday. When I was a kid and I got bad news, I always got so mad, but you, after the day you had, here you are, with a big smile, busting a gut,” Buck chuckles. Then emotion overtakes him and the memory of the fear makes his voice waver. “You never gave up. Even when that water was rushing over you back there. You just kept on swimming.”

“Like Dory,” Chris says, referencing a movie they’d watched together a couple of times. Buck hadn’t even realized the words Dory sang so often had come out until Chris said that.

“Yeah, like Dory,” he smiles. “And not just today, you know, but every day. You never say no, you never complain.” It’s suddenly very important to Buck that Chris knows how impressed he is with him, that he thinks he’s the best, that he’s proud of him. “You’re such a good kid, Superman, and I keep being blown away by you. How do you do that? You didn’t get that from me, that’s for sure.”

Chris has a pleased look on his face as he explains: “Well, I complained once, but it didn’t work.”

Buck could point out that Chris complained more than once whenever it was early, but he still had to do PT or when he had to go to bed…

However, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to do that, he doesn’t want to waste time that suddenly feels so limited correcting Chris, he wants to know him. Know him the best he can, hold as many pieces of this amazing kid in his heart. “So what did you do?”

“I just kept on swimming, papi. Like Dory,” Chris shrugs simply.

God, Chris is going to make Buck cry. He’s been trying so hard not to cry, to not let Chris see how scared he was and still is, how dangerous their situation is. Yet, here he is, nearly loosing that fight with himself because of Chris.

He’s witnessed the kid go through so much heartbreak. From Shannon leaving, to Eddie having to re-enlist, to Eddie getting seriously hurt, to uprooting his whole life to move here, to Buck getting hurt, to Eddie pulling away, to this. Buck doesn’t know where he gets the resilience. Eddie is stubborn sure, and so is Buck, and the fiery attitude Chris gets from Shannon, but this? It’s pure Chris.

It makes Buck want to hold Chris closer, hug him tightly and wish nothing else will happen to him, that nothing will ever break his spirit. But he doesn’t want to start acting weird, doesn’t want to worry Chris. So, he just pulls him a little closer to his side and takes a deep breath.

“Oh my god, look over there,” a man exclaims, pulling Buck out of his thoughts as he tries to see what they’re talking about.

“Oh my god.” “Oh no.” Two women also exclaim their horror and Buck now sees why. It’s no longer just debris that is floating by, but a group of bodies.

Chris hasn’t seen the bodies yet and Buck needs to make sure he never will. He could never live with himself if he let Chris see that. Nor could Eddie. God, Eddie will probably be so pissed at Buck. He trusted Buck to look out for Chris, to take care of him when he couldn’t, but Buck only got him caught up into a literal disaster and now Chris might see his first corpse.

Moving quickly, he settles Chris sideways, doing a little swoop as he sits him down to make it seem playful as he cups Chris’s cheek to further guide his eyes away and says: “I- I spy with my little eye, something that is,” he looks around desperately, “high.”

Success. Chris looks up and away from the bodies, peering at the buildings surrounding them to find what Buck is spying, thankfully not yet bored of the game. “A street sign?” he guesses.

Buck looks over at the bodies to see where they are. Still too close for comfort. In fact, way too close in general. They’re right next to the engine, if Buck wanted to touch them, all he’d have to do is reach out his hand.

Despite not having picked anything as the object for I Spy, Buck shakes his head: “Uh, high- higher than that. Like, whoa…” to keep up the charade.

Chris guesses a window, a street light and a cloud, before the bodies have passed. When Buck finally reveals the answer was the air-conditioning unit in one of the windows, Chris huffs: “I don’t wanna play this game anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Buck sighs in a manner that may be a bit too honest as he goes to sit next to Chris. His leg hurts like a motherfucker and he’s exhausted.

It seems to last forever until a rescue mission is set up, though logically he knows they’re probably already out there, getting through is just hard and organizing enough boats is rough. Still, he’d give a lot to see firefighters on the horizon. Especially the 118.

God, what he wouldn’t give to see the 118 right now. To have the most competent people he knows come to rescue them, so he knows this nightmare is behind him.

The 118 will have Eddie too. He wants to see Eddie so bad right now. The man will likely be angry with him for endangering Chris, but he’d at least be here with him. He’s missed him being by his side so much and even though he knows it will likely be his new reality soon, in this moment he’d give anything to have the fantasy of a them again. He needs the comfort, even when he won’t know what to do when he’ll get it.

“I don’t know what we’re gonna tell daddy,” he says, more to fill the silence and distract himself from his own thoughts than anything else. “You know, we don’t invite him one time and, uh, look what happens.”

He doesn’t know what he expected from Chris. Maybe a snippy comment, like Eddie sometimes does, or another blasé comment about their situation. Instead he gets a soft and honest: “You saved me. And you saved them.”

Buck looks over at the others that Chris indicated. They all look half-drowned and beaten up, but they’re alive. He makes eye contact with one of the women he pulled out early on and she smiles at him, the younger woman huddled next to her doing the same. Automatically he smiles back.

If he’s honest, he doesn’t think he did anything big, just did his job. However, Chris doesn’t think so. Chris thinks he saved them, that he’s a hero. The tears he managed to fight off return and he has to swallow to stop them from falling.

To deflect, he says: “No, we did that together. Me and you make a great team. Give me a high five,” as he holds up his hand. He means it too, he wouldn’t have made it through this without Chris right there next to him.

Chris high fives him as Buck continues: “I’m proud of you. Really,” because Chris needs to hear that. He pulls Chris into a hug, hoping that’ll make the message sink in more.

As Chris loops his arms around Buck in return, he says: “Thank you, papi.”

“No, thank you,” Buck whispers into Chris’s shoulder. It’s not the most eloquent thing he’s ever said, but it’ll have to do, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

The sounds of water rushing makes him pull back slightly from the hug so he can see what’s going on.

Indeed, the water that had been calm a second ago is now flowing again and it’s flowing fast, too fast. It’s shaking the fire engine and pulling the debris along to bash against the sides of their refuge that now seems more fragile than it should.

Buck immediately grips Chris tightly, as he shouts to the others: “Everybody get down! Get down and hold on! Hold on!”

Further up a shelter must have failed to withstand the wave, because there are calls for help coming from between the debris and when Buck looks up over the cabin of the fire engine, there are people getting dragged forwards by the water as they wave for help.

Torn, he looks between Chris and the people yelling for help. He should definitely go help them, but he should also definitely make sure Chris is okay.

In the end, helping the people wins out, Chris is already okay. The fire engine is holding up and a safe space to hide out on until this is over. Besides, Chris thinks he saved the people already on there, he can’t let him see him just sit and do nothing while people need help. It’s not in his nature and it’s not what he wants Chris to think of his papi.

So he tells Chris to hold on, then goes to lay over the roof of the front cabin, so he can hold out his hand for the people drifting towards them to grab.

He is just pulling up a man, when something rams into the engine, shaking it violently. He hears something that could be the start of ‘papi’ before there is a splash. The realization of what that could be washes over him and he turns around just in time to see Chris disappear into the waves.

In a wave of adrenaline, he pulls the man aboard, injuring his arm in the process, but he doesn’t care as he abandons any sort of rescuing mission he was aiding at the other side of the engine as he goes to scanning the water to find Chris, calling out: “Chris? Christopher! Christopher! No! Christopher! Christopher! CHRIS!”

There is no Christopher to call back.

Without hesitation, he dives into the water after him. The chances of managing to grab him again are very low and it’s a stupidly dangerous thing to do, but none of that even registers for Buck. His son needs him, he’s going to fucking get to him, danger be damned.

If Chris was difficult to spot from the engine, it’s downright impossible to find him in the chaos of the water. Buck’s screams keep getting cut off by the water invading his mouth and just keeping himself above the water is an exhausting task. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get to Chris when he finally does find him.

As it turns out, he never gets to find out. A cluster of debris rams into him, pushing all the air out of his lungs, before dragging him down under as his foot gets stuck. Helplessly he tugs at it, vision whiting out from the pain, since of course it has to be his bad leg.

Before he can drown, the debris cluster hits a building and so does Buck. It wrenches at his leg, making him pass out, but freeing him in the process.

Buck floats down towards the sea unconscious for another second, before hitting a street sign, which wakes him up again. He flails about and almost drowns a dozen more times, before he grabs onto what at one point was wind indicator, but is now a broken pole where debris congregates.

He looks around desperately for Chis, calling out his name, but there is no response nor sign from the kid anywhere.

The heavy feeling of defeat settles in his bones as he clings to that pole, sporadically getting hit by debris as slowly the water level goes down. No miracle happens. Chris doesn’t appear. He hits the ground with a sharp pain in his leg and Chris nowhere in sight.

Chris is gone.

He lost him.

Buck lost him.

How is he ever going to live with himself? How is he ever going to tell Eddie? Buck left Chris alone for a second to save someone he didn’t even know. He let Chris fall. He let Chris drown. Buck lost him. He lost their son.

And for what? To save some people he doesn’t know? When Maddie was kidnapped by Doug and in serious danger, he hesitated, because he wanted to come home to his family, preserve what he had. Yet, here he abandoned Chris, the one person he wanted to come home to, because he wouldn’t understand.

He abandoned Chris right in front of his face, left him behind with nothing more than a ‘hold on’ while he focused on someone else. What kind of person is he? What does it say about him that he would abandon his sister for himself and his son for a stranger?

How will he ever look Eddie in the eye and tell him their son died, because Buck was playing the hero?

Buck isn’t on the clock right now, is still on medical leave. He’s a firefighter, sure, but he isn’t coming in after the fact to help with the rescue like those that are out there right now. He was hit by that wave, in the thick of the disaster. He’s a victim here, someone to be saved. He didn’t need to help anyone.

He should have left all those people behind to die. He should have held Chris as tightly as he could and never let him go, no matter what was happening around them.

‘You saved me. And you saved them.’

Chris’s words from before echo through his mind and he lifts his head to the sky to keep the tears in. He didn’t save anyone, especially not Chris. But it is how Chris sees him. He saves people. It’s why he couldn’t have abandoned anyone.

Because Buck is Buck and Buck saves people. He can still remember Chris bragging to his grandparents how his papi and daddy are heroes. How could he disappoint him by leaving those people when Chris was already safe beside him?

Chris was safe.

He was supposed to be safe.

Buck was supposed to keep him safe, but he failed. He failed and he has to fix this.

Determination comes over him and he uses the pole to steady himself. His ribs are bruised, maybe even broken and he has a headache like no other, not to mention his leg hurting almost worse than when he first got the injury. However, none of that matters, he has a mission to complete. He has to find Chris.

There is nothing else for him to worry about now. He is going to find Chris even if it kills him and he’s going to bring him home. He’s going to face Eddie with an alive Chris. He refuses to face an alternate reality.

Eddie is probably out there somewhere, helping people. That is his job. Eddie is out there as a firefighter, Buck is out here as a father. It’s his job to find Chris. They’ve always shared the responsibility, passed it back and forth to make it manageable. Right now, Buck holds the responsibility. He won’t fuck that up. Buck fixes things, he can fix this too.

It doesn’t matter that Eddie has been pulling away recently, that he’s figuring himself out. The two of them are still a unit as they’ve always been. Just because Eddie is going to leave Buck, doesn’t mean that their little family is gone entirely. They still have each other’s back out in the field, so Buck needs to have his back.

Buck will always be connected to Eddie through Chris. Eddie trusts him with Chris’s safety, trusts him to watch him while Eddie takes the space he needs. Just like Buck trusted him with Chris when he was chasing after Maddie or in the hospital.

Of course he’ll always love Eddie, he loves him so fucking much, but Chris was the first Diaz that stole his heart, albeit in a different way.

Eddie feels like safety and home. He feels like a solid rock that Buck can always come back to and be met with open arms. He knows Buck wholly and he never left. Not really. He had to enlist and recently he ran. However, he never left. He stayed close, he didn’t abandon him. Buck believes that somehow, sometime, they’ll come back to each other, even if it’s as nothing other than friends.

But Chris- Chris is his kid. His best friend, who amazes him every day. He loves Chris so much. Chris, who is so small, who has been entrusted to Buck, who he has nurtured and seen grow into such an amazing person. Chris is a piece of his soul, that is just walking around. Chris relies on him, looks at him for guidance, for comfort, for parenting. Buck will never take that for granted.

The thought is enough to propel him forward into action. He straightens himself up and looks around. The water pulled them back out to the sea, Chris was taken by the same tide as him, he probably washed up somewhere close to him. He just has to start searching, he’s bound to find Chris at some point.

It’s worse than having to find a needle in a haystack, but he ignores that part of reality. Thinking like that isn’t going to get him anywhere, isn’t going to fix this. Chris is still out there. He has to be.

Those first few steps he nearly buckles under the pain, but he has to keep moving. He doesn’t have time for pain and he knows he can keep pushing through. The human limit is much further than most people think, he’s seen people push through things much worse than a few bruises and a twisted ankle.

It’s a struggle at first. The water is still coming to his waist and slowly flowing back to the sea, so pushing against him. However, after a few near misses that send his heart beat skyrocketing, he gets into a rhythm.

Looking around, he sees that what is left of the pier is to his left and that the fire engine they took shelter on is also left from his position, even if it’s further inland. The water must have pulled him right, which means it pulled Chris right too.

He turns his back on both places and heads right.

Around him, more people are making their way through the disaster towards higher ground. Buck makes sure to take a good look at every person he passes, trying to see if he can catch sight of Chris, found by someone else. Safe.

No luck.

Turning onto a street, he hears someone yell: “Hey! There’s a kid under there.”

Immediately Buck is rushing to help. He hopes naively that it’s Chris, that it will be that easy. But he should have known better. Going off the shoes, he’s pretty sure it’s not Chris, but he isn’t going to let someone die. Especially not a kid. That’s someone’s child. He would want someone to save Chris too if they had the chance. Isn’t that what Hen said during the earthquake? This is no different.

He tells himself he’s not going to make detours to rescue people when he doesn’t have to, but this is basic human decency. Besides, with her free, he can stop the people she’s with, before they leave to ask them if they’ve seen Chris.

“Hey, hey, hey, excuse me,” he stops the group. “I’m looking for an eight-year-old boy. His name is Christopher. He’s always smiling, and he’s got CP, Cerebral Palsy. He’s got brown hair, yellow shirt.” He thinks about mentioning the glasses, but Chris probably lost them.

The surfer guy with long hair, thinks for a moment, then nods: “Yeah, yeah. I think I saw him.”

The feeling of hope, so fragile yet too big to contain his body is almost impossible to describe as he asks: “Where?”

“He was headed with a group that that cupcakery place,” surfer guy says. “I heard they’re handing out water.”

“Cupcakery? What is that?” Buck asks, needing more information so he can find Chris.

“You know, cupcake bakery. It’s about six or seven blocks south of here on Strand,” surfer guy explains.

While he is usually a fan of new tidbits of knowledge, right now he can’t give a single flying fuck about what a cupcakery is exactly. However surfer boy has given him workable information to go off with the address. “Thank you. Thank you.”

The girl is not the last person, he pulls out of the rubble on his search for Chris. And surfer guy is not the last person that gives him information on Chris that turns out to be nothing.

However, the disappointment never stops Buck. He has to keep going, keep searching, keep believing that Chris is alive and out there. That he just has to find him. That all he has to do is get to him and it’ll be okay.

A part of him can understand that it might be denial, but he doesn’t have space for anything else. If he lets himself think that, all the aches and pains he feels will pull him under and he can’t allow that to happen. He knows he’s injured, but he has to push through. For Chris.

Buck doesn’t give up. He can’t. Not until Chris is safe. He just has to keep swimming. Just has to fix this, even if it kills him. There is no other option, not for him, not when it comes to his son.

~~

A/N:

I’m sorry if you thought you’d find out what Eddie would do this chapter, it was a deception. Let’s cross our fingers Buck doesn’t die before someone can find him!

[eyelessfaces]

better safe than sorry

poe dameron x reader

edit: this story has a prequel!

summary: tired of fighting with poe regarding his recklessness on missions, you chose to lose him by breaking up with him rather than by him dying thinking you'll be less hurt, only the weight of that decision keeps crushing you a bit more each day.

warnings: obvious mentions of a breakup, obvious angst, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

tags: f!reader, exes to lovers, feelings (lots of em), bb8 is a child of divorce, absolute idiots (that are still) in love, fluff

word count: 2.6k

I had so much fun writing this<3

better safe than sorry masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

The suffocating feeling crept inside your chest every single time. 

Every time you walked past him, lowering your head so you wouldn’t be tempted to make the moment linger, every time you scanned a room and your gaze caught him far away, every time you heard his voice, during the meetings, or involuntarily, when you heard his joyful laugh erupting from tables behind you in the cafeteria, it hurt every single time you were reminded of Poe Dameron.

And it was a shame, because he was probably the most popular man on base, so it hurt constantly.

Alright. Maybe it wasn’t only being reminded of him against your will that made it hurt, because you simply couldn’t not think of him anyways.

Even when you didn’t see him or didn’t hear of him, the little details of your everyday life constantly reminded you of him.

His scent was still clinging to his jacket he had given you, the jacket you wouldn’t dare to wear as if you didn’t feel worthy of it. The jacket you still kept and slept close to, inhaling its smell as you curled up in your bed.

His towel was also still in your refresher, and every time you saw it you made a mental note to give it back through Finn, but you could never bring yourself to actually do it. 

It also happened that every time you talked to Finn your tongue was burning with the want to ask how Poe was doing, but you avoided the subject for your own good, even if it was a bit selfish. You knew that if you asked Finn to give him the towel he would ask you how you were holding up regarding your break up, and you knew that your facade would crumble.

You wondered if he suffered too. You wondered if the littlest detail reminded him of you, if the quickest glance in your direction made his heart ache the way yours did.

You secretly hoped it was the case. 

Not that you wanted him to suffer, you just hoped he… still cared. You hoped he still cared about you the way you still cared about him.

And he did. 

He had to battle with his own mind to stay focused on his job, because you were the only thing on his mind.

He could have replaced you. Quickly. Easily.

As soon as it spread around base that Poe Dameron was free, the ones that had been waiting endlessly for this moment finally took their chance. 

He could have replaced you. He could have had plenty of opportunities. He could have gotten laid to try to forget about you for a few hours. He could have tried to make it more than just sex and try to fall in love with someone again to forget about you for good.

But he didn’t want to, because the wound was still wide open, still bleeding.

And what hurt the most with this wound was the fact that he thought the both of you were doing fine before you decided to break up with him. 

Kriff, more than fine, he was planning on getting rid of the ring on the chain around his neck so it could go at your finger. 

He didn't want to bandage this wound.

—

It's the afternoon and as you're making your way to the hangar to try to finally fix the wonky lever on your ship to avoid getting killed, your head turns at the sound of panicked and frantic beeps, and you spot BB-8 rolling towards your direction through the hallway you’re walking in. 

He slaloms through and around the crowd of people in his way, and they’re just like you, staring down at him, surprised at how fast the little droid is; it's surprising that sparks aren't forming under him on the floor.

Once the droid is down at your feet he doesn't stop rolling, but now he's doing circles around you, still making a cacophony of erratic beeps. 

You can't even figure out what he's trying to tell you considering how untamed he's being, and if he’s panicked, his behavior is starting to make you feel the same way. 

"Calm down Beebs, what's going on?" you coo, going down at his level, one knee on the floor. He rolls over and stops in front of you, beeping more composedly this time.

You frown as he beeps, readjusting your position. "Poe's hurt?" the words make your heart jump as you pronounce them, and every thought drowns in your head.

The droid beeps again to confirm, and you give him a small nod, biting on your bottom lip before getting up on both your feet and hurrying to medbay, the droid heeling you. 

You try to catch your breath once you finally arrive there, and as you can hear your heart beating in your chest in loud thuds, your heart actually sinks once you see Poe. 

It doesn’t sink in despair or in profound worry, it sinks in disbelief.

It sinks in disbelief because besides a broken arm enveloped in a cloth held by his neck, Poe seems perfectly fine. His head turns to you as he’s sitting on the edge of the medbay bed, and he looks surprised that you're here. You can understand.

You sigh and throw your head back, cursing the droid for making you worry so much and embarrassing you. 

You feel relieved that Poe is alright, but you also feel awful for the situation BB just put you in.

BB comes behind you and beeps joyfully, and Poe looks down at him and laughs. "Oh buddy you didn’t just do what I think you did, did you?"

The droid looks proud, his plan has worked.

You sigh again, tucking your hands in your pants back pockets. “He's a good actor. I truly thought you were dying.” you turn to BB, and point at him accusingly. “I can’t believe you just did that.” you hiss, and the droid keeps on beeping proudly.

"Why did you do that?" Poe asks, lowkey impressed, as his eyes follow the little droid rolling over to him. BB doesn't reply and just parks at the feet of his master.

You look around the room, not sure of what you should do now that you're here. You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed across from Poe.

"Are you okay though?" you ask, throwing your chin at your ex boyfriend's injured arm.

“Well life’s not exactly the same since we–”

“Oh– I was talking about your arm” you cut him off, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. 

No matter how hard you tried, this encounter would just be awkward huh?

"Oh yeah, just a rough landing.” he declares chuckling, looking down at his arm. “It's gonna take more than that to kill me." he mutters, his gaze darting to BB-8.

“This is exactly why I broke up with you, you know.” you throw accusingly, and he pinches his lips in a smile.

“Yet you still ran to me when you heard I got hurt” he can't hide the smirk on his face, he doesn't want to anyways.

You want to tell him that BB made it sound like he was dying so of course you wanted to be by his side, because you still care about him, but you decide to keep your mouth shut because whatever will come out of it will for sure make you want to dig your own grave.

So you chuckle and look down at your feet, and when you decide that you should probably go, he speaks again.

"You know you're kind of like his mother" he smiles softly, breaking the silence as he looks down at the droid at his feet.

You scoff, but your heart actually skips a beat. "Yeah so we're his divorced parents, right" you joke, though it’s half true, and it’s a miracle your voice doesn’t flinch because a small lump is slowly starting to form in your throat.

Poe grins timidly, and you look down at BB looking back and forth between you and Poe.

You want to speak again, but so does he, so you’re both blabbering out incoherent mumbles at the same time. 

You both laugh, and he points at you with his valid hand.

“You first” he offers, cocking an eyebrow, wondering what you were saying.

“I was about to say I should probably go.” you nod, sinking your hands into your pants pockets.

“Oh” 

“You?”

He bites down on his lip before talking. “I miss you. I was about to say I miss you.” 

You close your eyes and sigh, and the lump in your throat only keeps on growing bigger. You shouldn't feel so sad, because you brought this upon yourself, but you can't help it.

“I know. I mean– me too.” you nod, looking up at him. He looks sorry, and you feel sorry. "I miss you too." you admit, and admitting it only makes it feel even more real.

He weakly smiles at you, and the atmosphere in this room becomes too much, and you feel the need to leave.

"Okay. I should get going. Be careful with that arm" you softly smile before walking out the room.

��

There’s a good chance you’re experiencing the frequency illusion – the phenomenon of learning the meaning of a word then hearing it everywhere, because the frequency at which you accidentally run into Poe after your encounter in medbay is quite embarrassing. 

Awkward smiles are your only exchange, but the way he pinches his lips when he smiles at you makes you want to kiss them every single time.

Another downside of it is also that the more you see glimpses of him, the more you want to see him. Properly. It’s becoming a problem.

And the more you try to ignore it the more you’re reminded of the problem in question, and it’s a never ending circle.

Which is why you’re standing outside his quarters with his towel in hand, and while you’re still hesitating whether to do this or not, there’s part of you that tells you that this is absolutely stupid.

But there’s also that other part of you that craves the sight of him, the sound of his voice, his smell, his touch, the taste of his lips, and that part of you takes control and buzzes at his door.

It opens a few moments later, and BB-8 rolls behind him, beeping happily. You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your mouth, and Poe looks back at his droid, chuckling.

“It’s, uh– your towel.” you say, handing him it. He looks up at you then at it before taking it from your hand. “I’ve been meaning to give it back for a while but I kept forgetting”

“It’s just a towel, you could have kept it, you know.” he chuckles, throwing the cloth on his console.

“Yeah. It’s not just about the towel. I wanted to see you.” you admit, refraining your smile. You do a poor job at holding it back when a smug smile appears on his face.

“Oh yeah? You wanted to see me?” he asks smugly, leaning his forearm against the doorframe.

“Mmh” you nod, raising your eyebrows. He gestures for you to come in, and you kneel down to rub BB-8's head, making him roll on himself. “How’s your arm?” you ask looking up at Poe.

“Good. All healed up.” he nods, looking down at BB who leaves the room as if to give you some privacy.

"Good." you sigh, standing back up, placing yourself to stand in front of him. There's a strand of your hair that falls in front of your face, and he takes care of pushing it away, the tip of his fingers softly brushing against your forehead, his hand then resting at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder.

The gesture makes your breath catch in your throat, as if you're a teenager with a crush when you know Poe so well and you're accustomed to his soft gestures. 

You guess the context is what makes it so special, so fragile.

You lightly clear your throat, doing your best to seem composed.

“I uh, it’s stupid. The reason I broke up with you is stupid. I got so scared the other day when I heard you got hurt and my only thought was ‘You’re stupid, all of this is so stupid, he’s gonna die thinking you don’t love him and thinking your principles matter more than him’.” you start, and he opens his mouth but you continue to speak before he can. 

“This is not what happened because you weren’t really dying but that thought has been haunting me ever since. Away from you or not you’re gonna get hurt anyways and I’m gonna be in love with you anyways and I can’t change the way you are so if I had to choose, I’d rather be by your side.” you nod, chuckling nervously, your heart beating so fast you wonder if he can hear it.

He softly chews on his bottom lip, nodding.

“Okay.” he whispers, and he sighs before pulling you into his arms. A sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your forehead rests against his shoulder, and your arms wrap around him as he cups the back of your head. “It’s my fault too. I’m sorry. I’ll change, I promise” he whispers into your ear, and you look back at him, putting a hand to his face.

“I’m not asking you to change for me. I’m asking you to be a little more careful.” 

He nods before leaning in and kissing you, and you can only deepen it.

It is probably the most healing kiss you’ve ever exchanged, and when you pull away you still remain close. Your nose brushes against his as you play with the curls behind his ears, and his eyes crinkle as he softly smiles at you before leaving some more light kisses at your lips. 

He rests his forehead against yours before pulling away, and he comes back to reality at that moment, and you can see something looks wrong when he starts pacing around, his hands over his hips.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." he declares, looking back at you. "I signed up for a month-long mission." he can see the frustrated look in your eyes, and he almost feels guilty for leaving you so soon after you've been reunited.

“A month long?” you repeat, and he slowly nods, pinching his lips. "Poe Dameron you better come back al–"

"–Yes I promise you, I'll come back alive, and without a scratch" he cuts you off, chuckling. "I promise. No risky maneuvers." he assures, taking a step closer to you.

"Alright." you smile, bringing him closer to kiss him again.

You fall asleep clinging to each other, his back pressed flush against your chest and your arms tightly wrapped around him.

When you wake up the next morning, he's already long gone, his side of the bed so cold you could even doubt he has ever been there if you didn’t have the vague memory of him leaving a kiss on your forehead before he left his own quarters.

The month where he's gone feels like the longest month of your life, but the reward of it is that when he comes back he's exactly the way he was when he left, not a single scratch in sight. 

He begs you to take a day off of work to spend time with him and catch up, and during that day he brings you to a pretty planet he discovered while on mission where he asks you to marry him, the ring around his chain finally finding its right place after so many years.

—

masterlist | taglist | ao3

prequel | better safe than sorry masterlist

star wars taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521 @welcometostayingawake

I had so much fun writing this please give me feedback :'))

[swanimagines]

CLOSE TO YOU | NIKOLAI LANTSOV

Summary: Nikolai giving you his coat on a cold night at the sea results to a sweet moment with him.

The sound of waves crashing against the Volkolvny, seagulls screaming and the smell of salty sea air were some things that you loved when out at the sea. The chilly night air on the other hand, was a thing you wished would be gone. And that was the case today too, having tried to find a nook at the ship which would be safe from the winds.

That was when Nikolai spotted you, striding over with a small smile.

“Feeling a bit chilly?” he asked, making you jump up in surprise. You blinked a few times before you slowly nodded.

“A little bit. Well, quite a bit. And I didn’t find my favourite sweater,” you replied, trying to keep your teeth from clattering.

“Well, if that’s the case…” Nikolai said and without hesitation, he shed off his coat, gesturing it towards you. “May I?”

You frowned, but didn’t try to stop him as he went behind you, laying the coat on your shoulders. “Don’t you need it? You’re outside more than I am.”

You knew he smirked at that, helping your arms through the sleeves. “I don’t mind the cold if it means I get to share my coat with someone as beautiful as you.”

You felt your cheeks heating up as he said that, and you knew that’s exactly what he was after. The coat smelled like his cologne mixed with sea air and you resisted the urge to sniff it properly. And you couldn’t help but grin at his flirty comment, looking up at him shyly as he stood in front of you again. “Thank you, Nikolai. This is very kind of you.”

He looked down for a moment, letting out a little huff. “Anything for you,” he replied, a sprinkle of amusement in his voice. “Besides, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get close to you the whole night.”

Your cheeks grew hotter at that, and you let out a small laugh. Saints, this man always got you to behave like you were still “just” crushing on him and he knew it. Even when you were both aware of an unofficial relationship. But you decided to play along. “Well, you found your excuse then. And… I have to admit, I don’t mind being close to you either.”

Nikolai’s eyebrows rose a little as he looked at you, walking you towards the deck so you could look out into the sea. “Is that so? Well, maybe we should look for more excuses to be close then.”

You tried to prevent yourself from not beaming at him like an idiot and instead you crossed your arms. “Oh? And what kinds of excuses would those be?”

Nikolai chuckled, leaning a little closer. “I’m sure we’ll come up with some good ones.”

You smiled at it before turning your eyes back at the horizon - sun was already about to rise, you could see it dyeing some of the clouds with orange hue. You leaned your hands on the edge, glancing at Nikolai over your shoulder. “Yeah. But for now, I’m happy to be here with you right now.”

Nikolai came to stand beside you, laying his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers. “Me too,” he muttered. “Me too.”

And there you stood together, watching sunrise until the rest of the crew started waking up and the deck was bustling with life again.

As the sun rose up higher to the sky, you were once again reminded why these moments were to be treasured so much - the beauty of nature mixed with being with people you loved. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, Nikolai being a prince in hiding and all, but that was exactly why those moments were so important to have.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[elisysd]

2. Square one, my slate is clear

Masterlist - Previoulsy - Next

Soundtrack: Square One - Caamp

He was relieved to not see you around the paddock in Saudi Arabia. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t have been able to handle your comments on his penalty and probably would have snapped. He was pissed off enough because of that and snapping wouldn’t help him. He didn't need that. Ferrari didn’t need that. Even though his race was okay, he was feeling frustrated. Frustrated over a car that he was trying to push way too much, a team that was not really listening to him, beside Fred with whom he had a very close relationship with and who at times, felt like the only trustworthy person around him.

Once he was done with his duties he finally managed to find his brother, Arthur, in hope of congratulating him for his P8. He hadn’t had the time to see him before his F2 race and he felt a bit guilty about it. He had always made sure he would be there for him no matter what and he couldn't handle letting him down, even if deep down he knew it wouldn’t even cross Arthur’s mind. He met him in the Ferrari’s hospitality as he was talking to their big brother, Lorenzo.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to be there for you.” Charles apologized, taking Arthur in his arms.

“It’s fine. I’m glad, P8 is not that bad and I’ll be able to keep on improving.”

“Still. I promised I would always watch your races and here I am already failing.”

“You’re not failing. You have things going on and places to be. It’s okay, I understand. and I know where to find you if I need you.”

“You know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what.” Charles insisted.

“I know. Maybe there is something you could help me with?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

“I still have to get used to the media and to the interviews. I had a long one with a journalist from French TV and I was so nervous that I think I stuttered a bit.”

Charles saw red. Immediately.

“Did she tell you her name?” he asked, so urgently that it earned him a weird look from both of his brothers.

“Y/N. But, that’s okay, she was very laid back and made sure I was at ease, she was nice. Very nice and she even joked to make me feel better. And she is very pretty.” he added, glancing at Charles who had heard only half of his answer, focused on the fact that you might have tried to play with Arthur.

“You should tell your team to not let her be near you, she has something against me and I don’t want her to get you as leverage to hurt me.”

“Have you heard yourself? She is a journalist, not part of the damn mafia!” Arthur argued in disbelief.

“Still. Be careful.”

“I don’t see how such a cute and nice girl could be so dangerous.” Arthur mumbled as Lorenzo looked at the F1 driver, amused.

“Don’t start to develop a crush on her, you have a girlfriend.”

“She's not my type. She is more yours.” Arthur playfully joked as Charles glared at him.

“Not you too. First Silvia, now you, it has to stop. No girls for me this year, I need to focus on the championship…. and I really mean it. My career first. Ferrari is a sinking ship, I need to be one hundred percent focused on it.”

He chose to ignore the looks on his brothers’ faces. He was serious, dating was out of the equation, he had too much work, too many things to do. He could try casual dating but it was not his thing. So if he had to swear on celibacy for the time being, then so be it. He saw Arthur about to reply but thankfully, Fred had just entered the room, a smile on his face. He patted Charles on the shoulders, briefly congratulated Arthur for his race and asked Lorenzo how he was doing, before announcing that he had planned a little dinner between the team in a nice restaurant to relax and bond after the weekend. Charles was about to say that he was not in the mood to socialize but quickly avoided it when he saw the hard gaze of his team principal. He wouldn’t offer him a way out on this one.

Charles found himself sitting in a very fancy but at the same time intimate setting, next to Carlos, and in a nice and laid back atmosphere. It was nice. He felt like he could finally relax and enjoy himself a little bit. He was joking with Xavi when, from the corner of his eyes he saw a group of people entering the restaurant. It didn’t take long for Charles to notice you immediately, somehow standing out, for a reason he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. And as if you were feeling his eyes on your skin, you turned your head in his direction meeting his blue-green orbs. He saw you raising an eyebrow, almost defying him before nodding your head, in order to greet him. As you were taking your seat, Charles couldn’t help but keep on staring at your figure. You were wearing a tight black dress, your hair in a more elaborate ponytail than the one you were usually wearing in the paddock. Arthur was right, you were pretty. Even more than that if he had to be honest with himself. You were stunning. But he knew that you would be even more if you were not as insufferable.

He felt distracted, more than he should be. Your mere presence was enough to make his skin itching and his legs bouncing. It was stupid, he knew it, it was not like you were about to jump on him to harass him with your questions. But he was suddenly mindful of his movements, of the way he was holding his fork, of the way he was chewing on his steak, of the napkin on his lap and of the weird looks Fred and Andrea were giving him. From the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t help but watch you in a way he hoped was not too obvious. It was just little side glances, here and there. You looked happy, at ease, closer to the portrayal Arthur depicted of you than the one Charles had faced. He looked at the people surrounding you. Jean, Marion… the team that was on the Grand Prix. He knew them well, he was even happy to call Jean his friend. Always there outside of the tracks when he needed someone to talk to. His gaze lingered on you a bit longer than necessary. You were oddly fitting with them. You were laughing, expressing yourself with your hands, a bright smile on your  face, the one that was making your cheeks hurt. You looked younger when you acted like that, he thought. Far away from the ruthless girl he had met and was asking him petty questions. He started to doubt. Maybe, after all, the problem was coming from him, maybe he was somehow responsible for your cold attitude towards him. Maybe he had met you in the past and had acted like an ass to you and that’s why you didn’t seem to be able to give him the time of the day. As if his feet had a mind on their own, he got up and walked to your table. He saw your surprised face when he stood right next to you and didn’t miss the sigh of annoyance you breathed in his direction.

“Charles! We didn’t see you!” Jean exclaimed, putting a hand on the Ferrari driver's shoulder.

“Yeah, I saw you and I was debating on whether or not I should come by. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“How are you doing? The penalty was harsh but you managed to race well.”

“Yeah, it was impressive.” Marion admitted.

“Thanks guys. It was a tough race.” he humbly said, his eyes glued to your figure who was suddenly finding your chocolate cake very interesting.

Unfortunately for you, it suddenly seemed quite evident that Charles wasn’t going anywhere. He had suddenly taken a chair and was sitting next to Marion and right beside you. You could still smell his sandalwood aftershave hitting your nostrils. And when you felt his knee slightly brushing yours, you jumped.

“I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s my friend’s birthday tonight and I forgot to call her. Don’t wait for me.” you apologized, almost running away from the table.

Minutes passed and when it became clear that the door would keep on being closed, Charles decided to go searching for you. He went back quickly to his table to gather his things and say goodbyes before going outside. You were there, staring straight ahead of you, not even blinking or flinching when he approached. But Charles didn’t fail to notice the goosebumps on your skin and your slight shiver.

“Are you okay?” he asked, unsure but was met with only silence from your side. “It’s rude to not reply, you know?”

It finally made you look at him, your eyes staring right in his, still silent. Charles started to feel frustrated, he wanted to hear your voice, anything that could break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen down on both of you.

“Feeling less confident without a mic? You can’t hide anymore. It’s you and me, fighting like equals. No cameras, nothing.”

“I didn’t think you were nice.” You finally blurted out, throwing him off of his feet. “You… you have such a polished image, so neat, so…perfect. Never a word higher than the others. Always a nice smile and a word for everyone. So gentlemanly. No one is ever this kind and polite, I thought it was just a facade, that you must hide something. Because, surely, you can’t be that perfect.” You explained and Charles let out a sigh of relief.

“Well… that’s a very sad thought to have. I wonder what kind of assholes you must have met to have this view of the world. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I like to think that I’m a decent human being.”

“You would be surprised by the amount of not so nice people I’ve met these past few years.”

“Yeah?”

“I attract assholes.”

“I’m sure it’s not true.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re here, no?” you half smiled and Charles knew it was an attempt at a joke. A poor one.

“Well, maybe I could show you that not all people are assholes.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” you asked.

“What about starting from scratch?” he explained, extending his hand in your direction. “I’m Charles. What about you?”

Author's note: There is a little progress. Tiny, baby, little steps, but hey! You seriously didn't think I woud make it easy for them?

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody

[skyler10fic]

The Gift of Time

By Skyler10

Summary: A mysterious Christmas gift transports Carol to a future she needs to see, beginning with waking up in bed next to her superhero-coworker crush on the morning of Christmas Eve!

Notes: In one of many alternate universes to our own, the agents of Shield and Captain Marvel had adventures and lives that are in some ways much the same as the stories we know, but their family relationships and details are slightly different, and a certain witch from Agatha All Along appears! But different. Merry holigays and a happy new queer! :)

(Photo hat tip/prompt credit to the monthly @ficwip 1k image prompt for inspiring this, but the word count is six times that so it does not count for their event. haha)

Read on Ao3

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

Cozy and warm in bed, Carol Danvers did not want to wake up. She could tell without even opening her eyes that it was morning, but she felt like it was far too early for that. Stretching and yawning, she wondered where Goose was if not pawing at her face for breakfast to be served. She turned over in the direction of the bedside table with her phone on it, but her arm hit something unexpected.

“Ow,” a female voice next to her mumbled, still half asleep. “I’m awake, geez. Just five more minutes, babe.” 

Carol blinked open her eyes in confusion and shock. The woman in bed with her was very much not awake, but still gorgeous even in her disheveled state. Carol’s eyes adjusted to the light, and her brain slowly caught up with her attraction. Wait. She knew who this was.

“Daisy?” With a caramel tint, her hair looked lighter here up close in the morning sun than it had at work this week.

“Mmhm?” Daisy peeked one eye open and did not in the least seem surprised to see Carol. 

“What do you remember of last night?” 

Daisy smiled and turned on her back to stretch, eyes still mostly closed. 

“C’mon, we didn’t have that much wine first. But if you really did forget, I can do it again.” Daisy turned back to Carol and slid a hand up Carol’s shirt suggestively.  

“I wouldn’t complain,” Carol said, not giving away that she had no idea what Daisy was talking about. There was nothing Carol’s lust wanted more than to find out what that was, but she had to figure out why her coworker crush, Agent Johnson, also known as superhero Quake, was in her bed, or even in her house, first thing in the morning. 

Daisy cuddled into her side and snoozed comfortably as if they did this every day. A flicker of light caught Carol’s eye, and she glanced around the room. The windows were wrong. The decorations were unfamiliar. This wasn’t her room. Or bed. This wasn’t her house at all. Carol tried to keep her pulse calm as her mind raced with what to do next. She knew Daisy’s powers would be able to sense if her body tensed in signals of fear instead of comfort and desire.

“Go back to sleep,” Carol whispered to Daisy as she snuck out of bed. She found the bathroom right outside the bedroom and noted the clear couple’s setup: double sinks, each with a toothbrush and various lotions and makeup and such. Two bath towels, one navy and one baby blue, hung next to the shower. Even Carol herself looked different with shorter hair, parted farther to the side. The mirror was framed with little notes to each other, some in her own handwriting and some in Daisy’s. A few were just doodles of Christmas trees and snowflakes, while others said “Bake cookies for Christmas lunch” and “Saturday, 8 p.m., Shield gift exchange.”

“Oh.” Carol remembered. The gift. The last thing she remembered was opening a mysterious gift… 

—----------------

Late on Christmas Eve, she’d received a cardboard shipping box, no message or name but her own, delivered to her house in Louisiana. Inside had been a gold present box covered in glitter with the warning on a gift tag: Do Not Open Until Christmas! 

Obviously, she had been too curious, and she opened the gift. In her defense, the glitter and glimmer on the box was very shiny. On top of the gold tissue paper had been another warning: “Not for Use Before Christmas Day.”

This, of course, made her even more curious, and Carol Danvers couldn’t resist a challenge. She was only a few hours early. Surely that was close enough. She pulled out the most beautiful snow globe, with a base of elaborately detailed gold and silver. Inside was a scene of two girls kissing in a snowy village. 

Goose meowed and tilted her head. 

“You know,” Carol said to her not-a-cat, “I actually have a coat and hat that look like the blonde one. Now if only I knew who the dark-haired girl was.” The mystery girl’s face was partially hidden by the blonde’s mitten on one side and a gas street lamp on the other. Carol turned it around and around, but there was no way to see. She realized how silly she was being. The real mystery was who sent it and who had been the intended recipient. No name tag or shipping label provided any clues.

“You didn’t order this, did you?” Carol asked Goose. The flerkin blinked back in disinterest and sauntered away. 

Carol turned the snowglobe over to check the bottom for any note or hint, but the only words there were likely from the manufacturer: “Time to shake things up.” 

Out of ideas, Carol did as instructed. She watched in melancholy as the snow inside flurried around. Single and lonely with only her cat(ish) for company was just the stereotype the Christmas rom-com movies started with. But superhero work didn’t leave a lot of room for meeting girls, and she was getting recognized as a celebrity both here on Earth and on other planets, which was awkward in the best of times but nowhere more so than on a first date. And no one would believe her if she signed up for a dating app. 

Besides, her heart was too busy falling for Agent Daisy Johnson. Daisy had helped her with some space missions, and they had come back home to Shield together as intergalactic politics and a massive meteor storm in the forecast made it safer to return to Earth. They’d been assigned to the same team and missions, and the more time they spent working together, the harder Carol fell for her. Daisy had seemed potentially interested and vaguely flirty, but then the holidays came and their team rotated off active duty. As they packed up to go their separate ways, Daisy mentioned being set up with a guy while back home and how much it sounded like a Hallmark movie. She rolled her eyes, and Carol laughed.

“I don’t mean to be a bitch about it, though. He really does sound like a great guy.” Daisy had shrugged. “Who knows, maybe he’ll be the one. Or, I don’t know, have a hot sister. Or some other cheesy Christmas movie plot.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Carol had given her a tight smile, wished her luck and happy holidays, then slung her red duffle bag over her shoulder and left before Daisy could ask about her plans in return. 

Then, the next night, with only a few hours until Christmas Day, Carol had shaken the snow globe while replaying this conversation in her mind and wishing she had the courage to ask Daisy out. Her eyes drifted to her phone, but the circumstances held her back from texting Daisy right that minute. If Daisy said no, or even if she said yes at first and then things didn’t work out between them, it would make their work together awkward, or worse, even more dangerous. They had people’s lives, including each other’s, in their superpowered hands every day. They couldn’t afford to be distracted. 

But still, watching the last faux snowflake fall through the liquid in the glass ball to the sparkling white-painted ground, Carol envied her miniature doppelganger inside the winter wonderland. Her stomach sank as the last flake settled. Then, the glass seemed to glow, but Carol felt woozy, almost like vertigo and being pulled through a funnel at the same time, and closed her eyes.

—---------------

Now, Carol washed her face and held the warm cloth to her forehead, trying to make sense of how she’d gotten from watching the mystery snowglobe in her living room to standing in the bathroom of an unfamiliar home that was clearly her own in this reality, but not the same one she’d had last night.  

“Ready to go?” Carol hazily remembered herself asking. 

“I know exactly how to get warm,” Daisy’s voice echoed in her head. It was fuzzy, like a dream. 

“Hey,” the real Daisy greeted, more awake now, and met Carol’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. “You okay?” 

“I don’t know,” Carol answered honestly. She’d seen a lot of weird stuff in her line of work, and anything—from parallel universes to an AI to someone playing mind games with her to literal magic from a sorcerer or witch—was on the table. Or this might all be an ordinary dream.

“This might sound crazy, but have you ever seen a snowglobe with two women that look like us in the middle, um, kissing? In the snow?” 

Daisy searched Carol’s expression. “You’re joking, right? Sometimes it’s hard to tell before we’re fully awake.” 

“No, I don’t know…” Carol tried to find a way that didn’t sound completely insane. “I guess it was just a dream.” 

“Sounds like a good dream to wake up from on Christmas Eve.” Daisy casually kissed Carol’s cheek and continued about her morning routine. “Oh, don’t forget, we have the Shield party tonight.” 

“Right!” Carol pointed at the sticky note. “And, uhhh, remind me of our plans for today before then?” 

Daisy let out a little laugh. “What happened to Mrs. ‘Drag brunch is our new Christmas tradition!’ hm? Or was that a test? You’re testing me.” 

“I just don’t want to be late,” Carol explained, hoping it would satisfy Daisy’s curiosity. 

Daisy sighed, and Carol realized she’d hit a sore subject. “Let’s not do this today. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re off work. I promise, even if an extraterrestrial criminal mastermind is roaming the streets of Chicago on our way to the restaurant, we will simply walk the other direction, okay? We will not be late.” 

“I trust you.” Carol didn’t know what to say as Daisy turned to her and took her left hand. Daisy slipped a ring on it, and Carol noticed Daisy wore one as well. Okay. So this wasn’t just spending the night with her girlfriend or even just living together. Both of the rings were untarnished, intact, and clean, clearly reserved for their days off. Carol noted the more durable, casual silicon rings in the jewelry dish on the counter. Ah. 

Daisy noted her awe and misinterpreted. “I just assumed we’d wear these today…”

“Yes! I do!” Carol said a little too fast. “I mean, I do want to wear these. They are perfect. Just so perfectly us. I love them.” She tried to hide her delighted grin, but she couldn’t help it. 

Daisy sent her another “you’re being weird” look and walked out of the bathroom toward the kitchen. “Coffee time!” 

—- 

Carol played along the best she could during brunch. Daisy drove on the way there, which allowed Carol time to scroll through the phone camera roll of this new-and-improved version of herself. She had learned from the phone that this was Christmas 2027, but luckily, smartphones still worked in essentially the same ways. The photo cloud app told her that she and Daisy were married last spring with a honeymoon in Hawaii. She scrolled further back, seeing coworkers and friends she recognized who were apparently now married or even parents themselves, and some friends she didn’t know. A lump formed in her throat as an unspoken question was answered in two photos: the first of a frame on a wall with a familiar cat collar inside and another of a headstone with an etched image of Goose and an epithet to a beloved extraordinary pet that must have left the engravers thinking it was a prank. 

Carol rushed on to the previous months, not wanting Daisy to notice her sudden sadness, but the emotional pendulum swung the other direction to the previous Christmas with Daisy’s family, then an adorable autumn romantic photoshoot, and a summer engagement before that. It struck Carol that to the average observer, they would have just looked like an ordinary couple. Even with no memory of these events, though, Carol could spy little hints of their hero life sneaking through. The sky of the autumn photoshoot, for example, had two white dots in the background and a third larger moon-like circle on the opposite side. It had to be Galadna, home of the most beautiful autumn festivals and plentiful harvest, which they traded for seafood and hydropower from their sister planet, Aladna. Of course this reality’s Carol would have taken Daisy to visit, and gotten Prince Yan’s annulment paperwork and gender-neutral royal succession legislation passed, before their wedding. What else would a hypothetical future with Daisy look like?

It wasn't the first time Carol had seen photos of herself in a life she didn't remember, but this was different. C arol felt like she was cramming for a test as they parked at the restaurant. She quickly swiped as far back as it would go and sent the tiny photo previews flying across the screen until they landed on something familiar: Christmas 2024. Goose in a Santa hat with a displeased expression, followed by photos of her house in Louisiana decorated just as she remembered it, but then there was a series of screenshots she didn’t. She read them as they walked through the parking garage. 

Daisy: At the cafe, about to meet up with Mr. Hallmark Holiday Special. ;P 

Then a little later: Hm, it’s been 20 minutes and no sign.

Oh wait, just had a text. His ex is back in town and they are meeting up tonight. Of course! I’m not the main girl. I’m the one who proves he’s ready to get back out there. Ah well, just my luck. 

A selfie of a beautiful Daisy dressed up for her date and alone in a cozy, warmly lit, holiday-decorated cafe accompanied a Wish you were here! 

Sorry if I’m disturbing your Christmas Eve! I’ll stop.

Carol hadn’t replied to any of these, which only added to her questions. Why hadn’t Past Carol responded? Clearly, things worked out in the end, but she needed more answers if this was some sort of vision from the Ghost of Christmas Future or possible alternate reality or message from fate! 

Thankfully, the drag brunch crowd was loud and fun, with plenty of entertainment that helped her avoid any more revealing conversations. Carol had a hard time enjoying the performance and food, though, distracted by her need to find the snow globe in this universe/dream world/virtual reality. If it was a portal to somewhere or a magical item or a well-disguised tech device (or even a weapon?), there was one way out. Decades of experience with the weird, supernatural, and extraterrestrial told her the first problem was acquiring the object, then returning to the trigger point. Flying to Louisiana, even if she could manage it without Daisy noticing she was gone, would be pointless without the snowglobe, she reasoned. Of course, if it was an alternate reality without the snowglobe, or a one-way portal, the trigger to reverse it could be something totally different here. 

Daisy took her hand under the table as the waitress cleared their plates from the table. “Back to Earth, space girl. You’re a million miles away today.” 

“Sorry.” Carol smiled at Daisy and played it off as simple distraction. “What did I miss?” 

“Elena was explaining her family’s Christmas traditions in Colombia,” Daisy filled Carol in as the others at the table continued the conversation—Elena’s husband, Mack; Fitz and Jemma, whom Carol knew from Shield back in 2024; Bobbi and Hunter, who had been on one disastrous yet successful mission with Carol and their presence in the friend group in 2027 amused her; and the newcomer, Fitz’s cousin Deke who was visiting for their holidays.   

“We’re all meeting in Miami for New Year’s this year at my cousin’s. It’s going to be a big Rodriguez family reunion,” Elena finished and turned the conversation to Carol instead, “How about the Danvers family holidays? What are your old childhood traditions?” 

“Oh uh,” Carol scrambled. Finally something she knew, and it was a topic she’d rather avoid. “Nothing much. Just the usual, I guess.”

Daisy jumped in. “We usually do Christmas with mine, but my parents took my mom’s parents on a trip to China this year and we’re on our own.” 

“I never really got along with my family.” Carol shrugged. She looked to Daisy to verify this hadn’t changed, but the others took it as a hint that it had something to do with Carol’s orientation. It wasn’t that so much as not being the kind of daughter they wanted. Growing up to be a lesbian teen and young adult in the 1980s had simply been the icing on the estrangement cake. She’d never been their ladylike pageant princess, and besides, they’d been informed by the Air Force that she died in 1989, and they hadn’t made contact in all the times she’d been back to Earth as a famous superhero. Carol wasn’t surprised their brunch friends wouldn’t have known this though. Most people didn’t realize how old Carol really was since she didn’t age like a normal human. Daisy had the same trait, a fact that had kept Carol up at night wondering if it was a sign they were meant for each other. To avoid the age question, it was simply easier to give as few details as possible. That had served her well on a normal day and was proving to be the trick to surviving this weird future too. 

Another of their friends, Jemma, spoke up: “They got together on Christmas, you know.”

Thank goodness Jemma’s analysis skills transferred to reading the awkward situation and calculating a smooth segue. Carol mouthed back a silent “thank you!”

Deke leaned forward and insisted, “Tell the story, c’mon, you can’t leave us hanging, Granny!” 

Jemma rolled her eyes. “He calls me that because I knit, and apparently 10 p.m. is too early for bed unless you’re a grandmother.” 

Carol turned her real question into a teasing one, “I’m still dying to hear the story about the women who got together on Christmas.” 

She winked at Daisy and squeezed her hand, hoping she was passing off her information gathering as a game. However, the waitress arrived with their digital checks on a portable payment device, and Carol had to rein in her frustration at the timing. She had to know what she’d done between Christmas 2024 when she’d saved Daisy’s unanswered texts in her photos app and spending Christmas 2026 with Daisy’s parents and grandparents in her hometown, presumably planning their wedding in a few months’ time. 

“It’s my favorite Christmas story,” Daisy flirted back as they waited for their turn to tap their phones to the payment device. The design of the thing was different now, but it was close enough to the 2024 version, and Carol had used tech from all sorts of planets in distant galaxies, that she could easily fake her way through using it as if this was her ordinary home world and time.  

So she thought. The payment device beeped a clear error tone as she tried to pay for her breakfast and for Daisy’s. 

“Hm, that doesn’t usually happen.” Carol blushed. She had the right orders selected on the screen, her payment app had automatically launched as it sensed the device within a few inches of her phone, and it said she had money in her account. 

“Oh!” Daisy laughed. “You added mine to yours. One at a time.”

Carol’s confusion must have accidentally shown through. Daisy paused and observed her closely. 

“You remember everyone has to use their own card now, right? The new consumer ID tracking laws?” 

“Right!” Carol shrugged. “New laws. And tech! Changing all the time! Hard to keep up with all the places we’ve been; everywhere is different.”  

She hoped that was vague enough, whether they were back to space travel or not by now. 

Daisy added with a half-laugh, “Just like that time in Havana! Ugh, right?” 

Carol knew that old Nick Fury code word. She played along, hoping it was a coincidence. Hoping Daisy didn’t know it. Carol finished the transaction silently and passed the device to Daisy, who did the same, but on their way out, Daisy took Carol’s gloved hand and pulled her in the opposite direction of the parking garage. 

“C’mon, it’s the last day the Christmas market is open!” Daisy’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and the sudden chill of the air around them mirrored the cold fear in Carol’s bones.

“Honey, it’s freezing!” Carol pled. “Let’s go home. We have that party tonight...” 

Daisy led her around a corner into an alley. Carol followed, hand in hand, helpless to resist if she was going to find out what was going on here. An opening in the dark brick of the alley led to an empty brick building with a hole in the wall where a door would normally be and no glass in the steel-framed windows. It looked like it had been…

The thought was cut off as Daisy pulled Carol in close by the lapels of her coat and kissed her deeply. Carol couldn’t think, she couldn’t panic, she couldn’t do anything but kiss Daisy like her life depended on it. She’d been waiting and wanting so long, dreamt of it a thousand times, nearly closing the distance between their lips on dozens of occasions. Now, whether she lived or died here in 2027, she had kissed a version of Daisy Johnson and her Christmas wishlist was complete. 

The dreamy butterflies faded as Daisy backed away. There was a glint in Daisy’s eye and tension in her brow that sent Carol's internal alarm bells clanging. 

“I thought so,” Daisy whispered.

Before Carol could react, Daisy stretched out a hand and quaked Carol with lightning speed, pinning her against the inside wall. 

She demanded, “Who are you? What have you done with her?” 

Carol hadn’t considered the possibility that she was the imposter here. “ I’m Carol Danvers. What I’ve been trying to figure out is who are you? What is this place? AI? Wish fulfillment tech? Parallel universe? I’ve seen it all, but nothing as real as this.” She struggled against the harmless but firm quake holding her captive. 

A flicker of doubt crossed Daisy’s expression before it hardened. She raised the quake, pushing Carol up the wall six feet, then ten. “I’m going to let go now…” 

Again, with no time to speak, Daisy released the quake. This time, Carol knew exactly what to do. She ignited and hovered in place with a cocky smile. “Good. You know I can fly, and you clearly have the same powers here. I’m going to come down now, and you’re not going to crush me into the Earth, okay? Let’s just talk.” Carol floated back to Daisy, who still tensed in suspicion, but allowed it. 

Daisy’s voice edged on emotion as she demanded, “Who. Are. You? You look like my wife. You feel like her. But you’re not Carol Danvers. I know Carol Danvers. Better than anyone.” 

“It’s me! Daisy, I swear it’s me. Listen, I don’t know how I got here, but you have to believe me.”

“Don’t lie! You called me honey five minutes ago. You didn’t know how to work the tech you were so against, but it wasn’t in protest. You really didn’t know back there, did you? You didn’t remember drag brunch, I could tell you didn’t know any of those stories, and you didn’t sing along to our Christmas songs. You scrolled your phone on the whole way here and barely talked to me. You didn’t recognize your wedding ring!” Daisy was losing control of her emotions and the building tremored the slightest bit, sending a light rumble through the winter air. Carol tried to speak but Daisy couldn’t stop, pleading now. “You don’t kiss the way my wife kisses me. You didn’t remember the snow globe ? If you’re Carol, my Carol, what happened to you?”      

Carol’s voice cracked as she answered. “You’re asking the wrong question.” 

“What's the right one then?” Daisy’s breath huffed out a mist in the cold air.

The snow outside caught Carol’s eye, falling into place like the puzzle pieces in her mind as she spoke: “It’s not what happened to me, but what hasn’t.”

Daisy started to speak, but Carol took Daisy's gloved hands in her own.

“Just hear me out. The last I remember, it was Christmas Eve 2024, only a few hours to Christmas Day. I asked you first thing this morning about the snow globe because I’d just opened a box with one inside. A snow globe with us in the middle. And, I know this sounds crazy, but I think it brought me here.” 

Daisy stared at Carol in awe. “This is where you went that night? Why you didn’t answer my texts? I knew it didn’t take you that long to … Wait, I don’t know how much I’m supposed to tell you. I’ve traveled in time before and things got very complicated. If you’re you from 2024, there’s a lot that you shouldn’t know yet.” 

“Actually…” Carol wetted her lips subconsciously. “I think that’s why I’m here, because there were things I needed to know.” 

“Like what? A portal sent you through time and space so you could learn how to kiss me like you mean it?” Daisy was trying to be sarcastic, Carol knew, but with their bodies drawing closer and closer in the cold, and consequently, their lips this close together, it sounded like a sincerely tempting offer. 

“No, to teach me that I could mean it without the world ending.” Carol dared to kiss Daisy again, but let her take the lead, noting even the slightest movement of her lips and tongue and hands. 

“Okay, c'mon then,” Daisy whispered as they parted. She led Carol out the opposite side of the brick building with an identical crumbling hole in the wall as the door they’d entered through. 

“Was this you?” Carol couldn’t help but ask as they walked through it. 

“Us.” Daisy grinned and pointed up. A series of large scorch marks was clearly intended to be proof Carol had been here and battled something large, aerial, or both. 

Daisy led them around a corner and Carol gasped in delight as a winter wonderland stood before them. This was like no Christmas market Carol had ever seen. The snow had piled up over days in the plaza and along the neighborhood sidewalks and storefronts with elaborate holiday window displays. It was falling again now, and shoppers around them bustled around with packages and hot beverages in hand, purchased from stands advertising cocoa, wassail, hot toddies, and more. Every lamppost was wrapped in garland and ribbon, and topped with a wreath, and music began to play as they wandered. 

Daisy stopped in front of a faux cottage serving as one of dozens of seasonal gift shops. “If anywhere has a snow globe to replace the one we lost, it’s here.” 

“Wait, what do you mean lost?”  

Daisy worried her lip and tilted her head. “We don’t know. We put it out every year, but this year, it just wasn’t in any of the boxes. Everything else was there except the decoration that meant the most to us. It was a rough couple of days, looking everywhere we could think of, but it was gone.”

“What makes you think this place would have it? It was pretty unique.” 

“Same brand.” Daisy pointed to the sign. “That’s who made the first one.” 

A crafter’s logo, a name but so scripted it was nearly illegible, served as a mark of authenticity under the shop name: Shake Things Up. 

“Let’s go in.” Carol figured at worst, they would have plenty of time inside to warm up as they shopped. 

Inside was an old-fashioned wood cashier’s counter with a grand gold register, behind which the shopkeeper greeted them with a jolly smile. “There you are! It’s Lilia. Lilia Calderu?” 

“Hi?” Carol was certain in all the long decades of her life, across civilizations and empires, she’d never met this woman. 

All the same, the woman clearly knew her. “Oh Carol, you’ve done remarkably well. Not that I expected anything less from Captain Marvel.” 

“Let’s keep that quiet,” Carol said, glancing around. Her identity wasn’t a secret, but she liked to stay low-key where she could and hadn’t been recognized yet by the public masses around her. 

“Of course.” The shopkeeper turned to Daisy, somber now. “And you, Agent Johnson, are looking for this.” 

Lilia disappeared behind a curtain to a back room and reappeared with a gold glitter-covered box that Carol recognized. 

Something about Lilia’s focus on Daisy kept her quiet, however. She watched as Daisy accepted the box and Lilia raised a gentle hand to Daisy’s face, red from the cold. 

“Have faith,” Lilia said, as if it was a blessing and instruction. She seemed to snap out of the mystical persona and back into shopkeeper mode. “Now, that’s $55, plus $15 for shipping and handling, and of course, instructions for resetting the clock are inside.” She raised her eyebrows as if they were in on the joke.  

“Thank you.” Daisy paid with her phone, and they left the shop without browsing for anything else. 

“Whoa.” Carol was certain it had been daylight when they had entered the shop, but now, seemingly only a few minutes later, they exited to a dark, snowy early evening. Most of the shoppers had gone home by now, with only a few wandering from shop to shop, and staff in holiday costumes bantered about their day while closing up for the day. 

"We better get home for the Shield party, I guess," Daisy said, checking her phone for the time. "Time really flies by here."

They wandered through the market in the direction of their parking garage and passed through a grove of Christmas trees under a canopy of lights. 

“Hey,” Carol pulled Daisy to the side. “I don’t know what is going to happen with what’s in that box, or even how to make it work. Or if it will. I just want to say, today with you has been a miracle.” 

“A Christmas miracle?” Daisy smiled. “You were my Christmas miracle. That’s the story Jemma was going to tell. You saw my texts and flew right to me that Christmas Eve I got stood up, and I knew as soon as you walked in that cafe that you were the one I wanted. It couldn’t have been anyone else for me but you. You know, I’d always assumed that you didn’t respond because you were flying, but the timeline didn’t make sense. Now I know. You were here, right now, with this me.” 

“So you’re saying, if I get home, I’ll have those texts on my phone waiting for me?” 

Daisy shrugged. “If you do, remember, it’s the same the one we went to when we were the Welcome Wagon to that inhuman kid.” 

“She was looking for you so she could skip high school and become an enhanced agent,” Carol recalled. “She nearly passed out when she saw us.” 

“You know, that Christmas, she was telling everyone in town that she was being recruited for superhero service by Captain Marvel’s girlfriend.”   

“And you never corrected her?” 

“Maybe I wanted it to be true. And then it was.” 

Carol couldn’t resist pulling Daisy in for a kiss. They had been walking side by side, so it was an awkward angle, but they adjusted. Whether they really had a magic snow globe portal time machine waiting for them in that box, or if they simply froze to death in the cold of the Chicago winter wonderland Christmas market, Carol would regret not taking the opportunity while she had it. 

Daisy leaned into the kiss and Carol could tell she wasn’t simply teaching, but enjoying. Carol acted instinctively as her lips sucked at Daisy’s, in a move that was apparently just right. The box Daisy was holding shook with a little involuntary quake of surprise and pleasure, and the snow globe inside began to glow. 

“Ready to go?” Carol asked. 

“I know exactly how to get warm,” Daisy flirted. They parted, intending to walk to the parking garage, but they both felt lightheaded for a split second. They closed their eyes, and the fabric of reality slipped away into darkness.  

—------------ 

Carol woke to the sound of Goose meowing and her phone vibrating on the coffee table with an incoming text. Groggy, Carol saw the snow globe on the table and then saw her phone light up. Who’d be texting her this late on Christmas Eve? 

Daisy. 

Wish you were here! 

Carol bolted upright as she saw the message with the selfie. She knew with unshakable conviction that she was supposed to go fulfill Daisy’s Christmas wish. And that wish would be the Christmas miracle she’d been looking for herself. Carol packed clothes and makeup for a date but wore her supersuit to fly in. At the last minute, she impulsively grabbed the snow globe. Even if this went poorly, she could use the excuse that it was Daisy’s Christmas gift she’d forgotten to give her. 

Carol shot through the sky like a meteor, high over the towns and cities of America. The next day, children would tell of watching for Santa long after they should have been in bed, and seeing instead the flight of the Christmas star. 

She dimmed herself as best she could as she approached and landed in the back of the cafe, at the delivery entrance. She changed hastily between parked delivery vans, then did her makeup and tamed her hair in the side mirror of one. She stuffed her supersuit in her bag and snuck around to the front of the building. The windows revealed a date-ready gorgeous Daisy with hunched shoulders and an empty mug on the table.

Carol’s heart broke seeing her like this. Daisy checked her phone one last time, and Carol realized by now Daisy knew her date wasn't coming. She was looking for a reply from her. To those unanswered texts. Daisy put her phone in her purse and started to gather her belongings to prepare to leave. Carol knew it was now or never. With a deep breath for confidence, she opened the door of the cafe, which announced her presence with jingle bells. 

At the sound, Daisy looked up casually, not expecting the person she locked eyes with. Carol rushed to her table, and Daisy rushed toward her in return, wrapping her in a hug they both desperately needed. Carol tentatively placed the lightest of kisses on Daisy’s lips. “Merry Christmas, Daisy Johnson.”

“You came!” Daisy pulled her in and kissed her harder. By now, Carol's dream-liked memories of Christmas Eve 2027 had faded in the same way ordinary dreams do, and yet, Carol remembered something about exactly how Daisy liked to be kissed. She couldn’t have said how she knew it. She just did. Carol let instinct guide her lips and the cafe began to clap around them. 

One older waitress, with a nametag that said Lilia, called out, “She better have a good excuse for keeping you waiting so long, sweetheart!” 

They laughed as they pulled apart. Carol remembered what was in her bag. 

“I do. I had to be home to open a mystery gift for both of us.” 

Daisy’s curiosity turned to wonder as Carol revealed the snow globe. 

“How?” Daisy sat back down as Carol placed it on the table, and they watched the snow fall around the miniature versions of themselves. Carol sat across from her and sighed happily. 

“Honestly, I have no idea. I just knew it was meant to guide me to you, somehow. Then you texted with that picture, and I thought I’d grant your Christmas wish.” Carol winked, hoping she was reading the situation right. 

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect such fast delivery. Five stars.” 

“Does that come with a tip?” Carol pushed. They’d been flirty before, but this held an underlying seriousness that had never been there before. 

Daisy considered it, tracing her fingers over Carol’s on the table in light touch that made Carol’s heart race. “It does, actually, one I’ve been saving to share with someone special. But we’d need to go back to my place for it, plus two glasses and a corkscrew. You’d have to stay over though, never drink and fly.”  

“Safety first, always.” Carol hardly knew what she was saying. All she could hear was Daisy’s low, sultry voice inviting her over for drinks and possibly more, including a sleepover.

Daisy paid her check, and Carol stored the snow globe back in her bag. 

“Ready to go?” Carol asked.

Lilia the waitress wished them Merry Christmas and urged them to bundle up before leaving.

“I know exactly how to get warm,” Daisy said, though Lilia was out of earshot as she tended to the other customers celebrating the holiday together. Carol was the intended audience anyway, and the odd familiarity of the words comforted her. She couldn’t place why exactly, but somehow she knew that by walking out of that cafe side by side with Daisy, this was going to be the happiest Christmas thus far of her long life. 

Inside the cafe, a “waitress” who had lived much longer than Carol could imagine, the benevolent witch Lilia Calderu, watched them in satisfaction through the decorated cafe window, knowing that not only would they have a magical holiday this year, but also Daisy and Carol, together with friends and family, would make many, many more.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 21 - Dystopian AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 21, word count 979

CW- Death by gunshot

The Earth was dead. Nothing grew apart from genetically modified mushrooms. The planet’s water was so toxic it had to be run through filters repeatedly to make it even halfway drinkable. The once beautiful green country Sirius lived in was now brown.

The HOB owned everything. They owned the food, water, phones, housing, and vehicles. Whatever you could buy. Somehow, it all led back to The HOB. 

Sirius lived in an old block of flats that had been converted to house hundreds of occupants. His room was a small pod. It was barely tall enough for him to sit up in. He did, however, have a shelf, which most people would kill for. It’s the little things in life. 

Most of the Earth's inhabitants, at least those with money, had bought passage on the gigantic space cruisers. They were cities in the skies, set to blast off into outer space to protect the elite from the Earth’s final days. 

Sirius had helped to build these beasts, but apparently, he wasn’t good enough to be part of the crew. So he spent most of his time in a local garage helping to fix the vehicles of the same posh prats that would be leaving.

One such vehicle had an issue that took him the entire day to sort out. He pulled out a stack of paper real-life paper from the air filter box. The customer brushed him off when he came for the vehicle, and Sirius was left with the papers. 

That night, he pored through the papers. He didn’t understand half of it, but he understood enough to know this was important. Sirius decided he needed to show a friend of his what he’d found.

“It’s, it’s, it’s amazing. Sirius, The HOB, has been hiding this from everyone. It’s not too late to save the Earth!” Marlene exclaimed as she typed some complicated equations into her computer. 

The door burst open, and armed guards flooded into the small space. They raised their guns and shot Marlene before she could even open her mouth. Sirius ran. 

He didn’t know how he got out of that room, but if he had to guess, they probably hadn’t expected him to move. 

Sirius had always been fast, and he used the adrenaline coursing through his veins to run as fast as he could. The men were right behind him, though. He dashed around a corner and found himself on the airfield with the space cruisers. 

He raced towards the nearest one and, with the knowledge only someone who’d helped build one, opened a secret hatch in its belly and wiggled into the cramped space. 

He gulped in air as he tried to catch his breath. The hull was so dense. He had no idea if the men were still there. He’d have to leave it for a few hours at least before he tried to escape. 

With the adrenaline wearing off and nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, he let the misery of Marlene’s death wash over him and focused on how it was his fault she was gone. The tears that fell from his eyes were thick and hot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. 

Suddenly, a horrendous booming rumble blasted his eardrums. It took him precious moments to realise the ship was about to launch. He tried in vain to open the hatch, but once the engines were engaged, all external doorways were locked down. 

The noise got louder, and he screamed as his eardrums tried hopelessly to block out the noise. He crushed his fists to them and felt the ship begin to rise. 

The booming got worse, and he was crushed into the floor as the behemoth gained speed. He felt his bones rattling and shaking as the ship fought against the Earth’s gravitational pull. 

After what felt like an eternity, everything stopped. He knew there would be the gentle thrum of the engines if his ears could actually pick up sounds anymore and that the ship wouldn’t feel like it was moving at all if his body wasn’t still trembling. 

He reached his hand above him and unlocked the internal hatch above him. He dragged himself up into the corridor. It was made for crew and never meant to be seen by the paying passengers. He wandered along it, having no idea what he was going to do. He didn’t have permission to be here, and he didn’t put it past some of the employees on here not to just expel him into the void. 

His ears popped as he walked down another corridor, and he regained some of his hearing just in time to catch the sound of boots walking towards the next bend ahead of him. He flew through the door beside him and waited for the footsteps to disappear. 

Sirius glanced around the room he was in. It appeared to be sleeping quarters, and compared to his tiny pod, it was huge. Two full-sized beds, built into the wall in bunks, a door that probably led to a washroom and two sets of drawers. 

Before he could plan his next move, the washroom door opened, and a tall shirtless man wrapped only in a towel, with beads of water running down his chest, walked out into the room. 

“Oh, hello. I didn’t think I had a bunkmate.” He reached out a hand. “I’m Remus.” Sirius tentatively took it and shook it. 

“Sirius,” He introduced himself. 

“Well, hello, Sirius. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Sirius forgot all about the previous hours of his life. He’d have to find a way back to Earth and figure out a way to get the information out that would save it so that Marlene’s death wouldn’t be meaningless. But right now, all he cared about was the man with the honey eyes beaming at him.     

[hux-and-gay]

Kylux Short Shorts Fest 2024: Day 1: Memory Loss

Till You Return

—————————————————————————

look at me still posting day one prompts on day two lmao. Pls reblog I don’t have A03 yet.

Rating: General Audiences

maybe more chapters in the future idk yet

after their shuttle crashes, Hux finds himself stuck on a planet with his rival, yet again. but it seems Ren is not exactly himself.

At first everything was loud, too loud. Sounds so jarring he couldn’t discern what they were or where they were coming from. Everything echoed as if he were underwater. He was bombarded by sensations, rumbling, crashing, the smell of smoke, light flashing. screaming? No that was himself, pain shot through his body, he couldn’t tell from where. Was he bleeding? He wasn’t sure. He reached out grabbing the wall in frontal of him to pull himself from the rubble of the crashed shuttle. He stumbled forward, almost falling into the belly of the ship. He caught himself on his elbows glancing back to see his foot still stuck in the twisted metal of one of the passenger seats. He moved it slightly. It hurt but it didn’t seem to be stuck too tightly. He gritted his teeth and yanked it forward, yelping as the metal cut into his boot. Once it was free he pushed himself to stand, ignoring the throbbing pain shooting through his leg. 

As much as he hated to give any form of credit to the man, If Ren hadn’t been piloting he’d likely be dead. He looked across the compartment where the other troopers had been standing. The ceiling had caved in, their bodies strewn across the floor. He knelt down to them, removing the helmets of those he was able to, and feeling for a pulse. Dead. He grumbled to himself. He’d told them to sit down but they hadn’t listened, now their stupidity was their downfall. He limped to the cockpit door which still seemed relatively intact though the access panel was crushed and it was slightly ajar. He grabbed it and pushed as hard as he could, which was quite difficult while trying no to put weight on his leg. He could see Ren at the pilot's seat through the crack in the door. 

“Ren, A little assistance, please!” He grunted, pushing harder as the door started to move. “Of course this would happen. I’m beginning to think it’s not merely a coincidence that something goes awry every time you’re with me. This is the second crashed shuttle you know.”

There was no response. 

“Ren?”

Silence.

“Typical.” He squeezed his body through the slight opening in the door he had widened, trying to mask his anxiety about Ren’s lack of response. If Ren was injured it would make things a lot more difficult. Though his silence could mean alot more than just injury… he tried to shake away the feeling. He doubted a mere crash landing would kill Kylo Ren, and if it did, well, he should want that, right? 

He didn’t have any time to dwell on these thoughts. Once he was through the door he rushed forward, almost hopping as to not put pressure on his injured leg- which probably looked more ridiculous then he elected to admit. 

Ren was slumped in the pilot's chair, he didn’t appear to be bleeding, which was a good sign. Hux took his head, gently lifting it. His eyes were closed and there was an angry bruise across his forehead. He must have slammed against the console when they landed. He was breathing so he wasn’t dead. Hux wasn’t sure whether to be fortunate about that or not. He got to work quickly, unstrapping him. 

“Of course you're going to make me drag you out of here. Don’t say I never do anything for you.” He said even though he knew Ren wouldn’t hear.

As he began pulling Ren up from the chair he started to smell something acrid, sulfuric. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was but it could not have been good. The air seemed thinner in the cockpit, harder to breathe. He glanced up seeing a gaping hole in the roof. It must have been the atmosphere that was causing the difficulty. He actually had no clue what planet they were on or whether the air was breathable. 

“Kriff” He mumbled to himself. He glanced around taking shallow breaths and trying not to cough at the tightness in his throat. Quickly he squeezed himself back through the door grabbing two of the trooper helmets and limping back over to Ren. Taking one He began shoving it over Ren’s head, which was slightly difficult since he was bigger than the average stormtrooper. 

“the one time that ridiculous helmet of yours would prove useful you don’t have it.” He grumbled finally managing to shove it on, winching slightly at the thought of how much it was probably pressing on the man’s head wound. He pulled the other helmet on himself, taking a deep gulp of air as soon as it was filtered. He squinted through the visor, the helmet was certainly something he had to get used too.

 He grabbed Ren and hoisted him up hissing as he fell back on his leg. He certainly couldn’t carry him, dragging would have to suffice. He couldn’t deny he was slightly amused by the notion. He dragged Ren from the ship, taking the transponder with him. Once they were free of the wreckage he brought them a safe distance away and leaned Ren against a tree before collapsing, panting. He was grateful his co-commander wasn’t conscious to see how much he’d struggled. He glanced down at his foot, the pain was numbing, he didn’t think he could take his boot off without cutting it. He’d have to wait for the first order to arrive. Right… they didn’t know where they were. He picked up the transponder, it was somewhat crushed but salvageable, he took off the front panel and began working on it. So immersed in the inner workings of the machine he didn’t notice Ren stirring. 

“Don’t move!” Ren’s voice cut through the silence.

“Oh your awake?” Hux said not even bothering to look up. “Good I was begging to think you were dead, not that I would’ve been adverse to that.” 

“Silence Imperial scum!”

“Imperial- What?” He sputtered, turning to Ren who was standing over him with a broken tree branch. 

“Ren, what are you talking about?”

“My name’s not Ren.” He growled angrily “You’re probably part of the remnant aren’t you?”

“The remnant?” Hux shook his head realizing what was going on. “Lovely, you were bad enough before, and now you’re delusional. Put the bloody stick down, I'm unarmed, I won’t attack you. I’m not a fool.”

Ren relented and dropped the stick. “You’re bleeding.”

“And you hit your head, evidently very hard.” He responded curtly. He hadn’t noticed he was bleeding, nor was he sure from where, but he wasn’t that concerned about it at the moment. “Ren- or Ben… or whatever you remember your name being, I’m not an imperial.”

“Then why are you wearing a stormtrooper helmet?!” He said, hand lingering over where he’d placed the stick down.

“So are you.” Hux nodded. 

“I am?” He reached up and felt around his head. “Oh, I guess I am-“ He began to take it off. 

“No! Don’t take it off!” Hux yelled, sounding more anxious than he intended to. 

“What? Why! I can barely see and it’s really tight.”

“Not my fault you have a big head.” He scoffed. 

“Hey! no need to insult me!” He said, crossing his arms. 

“Oh what a joy it is to be stuck here with an oversized concussed toddler,” Hux added, shaking his head. “You can’t take the helmet off because it’s filtering the air.”

“Oh! I guess that makes sense.” 

Hux couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. Ren’s agreeable nature was odd, endearing, almost cute. 

“Did you think I put a helmet on your head for fun? I’m beginning to think you’re more brainless than you were before.” 

“Do you want me to get the stick again?” Ren asked bluntly, Hux couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. 

“Oh no, I’m terrified.” He crowed sarcastically. 

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Ren added as he paced around the tree. Hux had to admit he was jealous the man could still walk, though he wasn’t sure which injury would have been better.

“If you’re not an imp, then what kind of uniform is that? It looks pretty imperial to me.” He said poking Hux’s shoulder 

Hux scowled and shrugged off the finger. “The empire is long gone, I’m part of the first order, so are you, though it seems you’ve forgotten.”

“First Order…” He sounded out the words slowly and deliberately as if he were testing them on his tongue, trying to see if it felt familiar to say. “What of the republic then?”

“Also gone, aside from a few loathsome troublemakers bent on keeping the Galaxy in turmoil.” 

“But my mother was with the republic…”

“And you’re with the order. Ren I can’t make it make sense to you, I can just tell you what is true.” He slumped his back against the tree picking up the transponder again. He didn’t really think it was important to explain what he knew of Ren’s past to him at the moment. 

“What’s that?” Ren inquired pearling over his shoulder like a curious child. 

“The transponder, communications were shot so I’m fixing it. If not, we won't be able to contact anyone.”

“And you know how to do that?” He sounded impressed. 

“What, fix it? Yes, sometimes engineering skills can be useful.” 

“What happened?” 

Hux mumbled under his breath, the questions were only distracting him and he was in too much pain to put up with Ren at the moment. “Would you calm down with the questions they’re giving me a migraine.”

Ren blinked at him waiting for his answer, making it clear he would only keep asking. 

Hux sighed, “Our shuttle crashed, It’s just over ther-“ As he spoke there was a massive explosion in the direction the shuttle had been, they both jumped slightly as the trees shook with the force of the blast. “Or it was over there.”

“So who are you exactly?” 

“Hux.” He didn’t care enough to add anything more. He was still trying to focus on getting communications back up. 

Ren raised an eyebrow “If I don’t remember who you are then a name isn’t going to do much to help. How do I know you?”

“You’re my co-“ He paused, smirking to himself. “My assistant.” 

“You’re assistant?” I find that hard to believe.”

“Means nothing to me if you don’t believe me. Again I can only tell you the truth.” There wasn’t any reason for him bluff but he had to admit there was some fun to it.  

“Fine then why would you need an assistant?” 

“Well I’m the- the leader, I rule the order.” It was a childish lie he knew, but Ren didn’t have any reason not to believe him, or prove he was lying. 

“So you're like on the senate?”

“Something like that.” It was nothing like that, but why bother explaining something that wasn’t true. 

“Oh- Does it hurt?” Ren kneeled down beside him

“Does what hurt?”

“Your leg, It’s bent weirdly.” He nodded to it, brushing his fingers across his boot but trying not to add any pressure. 

“I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He insisted. 

“It hurts, yes, I’d be surprised if it didn’t. But at the moment I’m more concerned about getting off this planet, and dealing with your… Amnesia.” Hux wondered to himself if Ren’s memory loss would be permanent. He doubted it, but it would change a lot of things. One of the leaders of the order not even remembering what the order is could prove a challenge, or an opportunity. He yelped, jolted from his thoughts as Ren suddenly propped up his leg up on his knee.

“What are you doing?!” He choked biting back pain at the sudden movement. 

“Helping you? Come on, don't tell me you can’t bear a little pain.” 

“It’s no use, I can’t take my boot off.”

“Don’t worry I have my-“ Ren’s hand reached down to his belt finding his saber but staring at it curiously as he held up the unfamiliar hilt. “Jeez, how much have I forgotten?”

“I couldn’t tell you, and there is no way you are putting that thing anywhere near my body!” He scooted himself further away from Ren, he’d seen the man use his saber to angrily slice through the finalizer’s walls too many times now, he did not want to become his next innocent victim, especially when Ren was impaired.  

“Relax, it's just a quick cut, I’ll be careful.” He assured him, taking the saber hilt firmly in his hand. 

“THAT IS NOT AT ALL REASSURING!”

“It will hurt a lot less if the boot is off, so stop squirming damn it!” He grabbed his foot and steadied it making it clear Hux did not have a choice in the matter. 

Hux sighed watching as the blade flickered to life. Ren blinked at it, eyes wide. “It’s… it’s Red.”

Hux hadn’t yet thought of how shocking that would be for him. As far as Ren or rather Ben was concerned he was still a Jedi in training, living with his uncle, or his parents, or whoever under, republic rule. He probably didn’t understand exactly what the first order was and Hux wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to deal with him discovering that he was a Sith apprentice. “it’s not yours.” Hux lied, hoping Ren’s memory would eventually return so he wouldn’t have to explain all this later. 

“it isn’t?” He looked at it puzzled. “Then why do I have it?”

“you fought the man who owned it, you won and took his blade.”

“Oh!” he laughed, smiling as he did. “ for a second I thought I’d turned to the dark side!” Hux had never seen him like this before, for a second, it seemed as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he was just a young boy again. Seeing this made Hux smile internally then he immediately scowled, shaking off the feeling. That wasn’t something he should enjoy, in fact, he should be disgusted by it. Even if it was in the past, he’d never experienced that kind of happiness, and Ren had, and he threw it away. Now he was looking upon it fondly? Feeling remorse that Ren was no longer like that? He shook his head. He was just getting buried in his thoughts again, there was no attraction to this strange boyish version of Ren. There couldn’t be. 

“Yes, what a crazy notion…” he added dryly, not bothering much to hide his lie. 

Ren got to work carefully cutting through the boot, making sure he wouldn’t singe any skin. Once there was a slit down the side, he removed the boot carefully and worked to unclip the garter that held up Hux’s sock before gently rolling down the fabric. Hux winced, glancing at his swollen bloodied foot. It was definitely twisted in the wrong direction as Ren had pointed out, but the boot had hidden just how bad it was.

“Oh yeah this is definitely bad.” He said studying it. There was obvious concern in his voice. 

“At least I haven’t lost several years of my memory.” Hux jested. 

“yeah well if you didn’t let me take your boot off, you might’ve lost a foot.” He interjected, paying him a serious glare. 

“I think that’s a bit of an overexaggeration” Hux added, rolling his eyes. In reality though his foot had gone numb, he wasn’t actually sure how bad it exactly was. 

“Hux, the boot was cutting off your circulation, your foot is purple!”

It took Hux a second to process what he said. However it wasn’t the comment on his injury that stumped him, it felt odd to hear Ren say his name right now. He felt like more of a stranger than the man he’d known for several years. “Why are you helping me? You don’t even remember who I am and I haven’t exactly been cordial.”

“Well, I’m your assistant right? Isn’t it my job to assist you?” There was a sarcastic tone to his voice and Hux tried hard not to laugh. “Plus why would I just leave you in pain? Is that something I normally would do? Cause If so, then I guess I’m not a very good guy.”

Hux paused thinking about the question. “I- I don’t know. I suppose not.” It's true. Ren had hurt him in bursts of anger when his powers got the best of him, but he never felt that his life was threatened by Ren. Perhaps he should have, but sometimes he felt as though there was this unspoken bond between them. They both saved each other's lives on several occasions, Though they never spoke of it openly. And despite all their arguments they had always paired well together and been successful on their missions. 

“Look,” Ren said, his voice sounded oddly somber, and genuine, “ I don’t know how much of what you’ve told me has been true, you very well could be lying to me right now. But what I do know is you pulled me from the shuttle or whatever or wherever I was. I was injured and unconscious, but now I’m safe because of you. That has to mean something doesn’t it? I may not be able to see your face through that helmet, but there’s something about you that feels familiar. Safe. You’re someone that I trust. I know that. Even if you lie to me. There’s something about you that tells me you’re important to me even if I can’t remember why. So whatever kind of person I am normally, I must value you very highly.”

Hux was stunned. He wasn’t sure what to say. Ren valued him? It was all too surreal. surely It had to be because of the injury? Naturally, he was just delusional, concussed, confused. He’d overheard countless times Ren complaining to Snoke, asking the Supreme Leader why Hux was still around and grumbling about his appointment as co-commander. There was no way these two men could be the same person. But deep down, Hux knew what Ren had said was true, and he knew he felt the same. 

“Thank you.” He said quietly. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could think of to say. It was something he rarely said, though Ren wouldn’t know that at the moment. But part of him knew Ren realized it was a special occurrence. 

Ren smiled at him, placing a hand gently on his knee before quickly turning back to his injury. “Good, now shut up and stop moving!”

@lessdenied @fives-ren @jaynesilver @thegeneralorder @diabollicallyangelic

@existing-sadly

@theosb0rnway

@dragonflies-draw-flame @hpdmism @fridayincarnate @tomatette

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

@bostarsky

@kyluxshortshorts

[musicalmoritz]

hi hi mutual :D

I’m not a huge aoinene shopper (although I do ship it) but! I wanted to ask for your Aoinene hc’s since I have labeled you as the Aoinene expert in my head and I saw you reblog that post we reblogged about the ship hc’s and such!!

convince me into the aoinene lore…. /hj -Bunny

Hiiiiiii mutual!! First of all I’ve said this before but I love being known as the Aoinene Expert™️, so happy that’s my reputation lol

Headcanons are my specialty so I’m glad you asked this!! I will gladly convince you into the Aoinene lore/hj. They’ve been rotting away my brain all day so I’m gonna take this opportunity to ramble abt them and explain how I see the ship

• So as far as canon goes I wouldn’t change either of the canon pairings for them, shipping for me sort of exists in a multiversal vacuum where I can imagine alternatives for who the characters end up with and how they end up with those ppl via fan content

• I do, however, love the idea of them having mutual crushes on each other in canon. I think Nene plays hers off as just admiring Aoi but deep down she feels the same way abt her that she does Teru and Fuji (or maybe a little bit more serious since they’re best friends). And while I think Akane is Aoi’s ultimate soulmate in canon I can see her having feelings for Nene as well, though I think they’d start to fade once Nene began to pull away from her

• As for fanon tho…

• In my head there’s an alternate universe where these two end up together after everything. This usually involves lesbian Aoi bcuz I do adore that headcanon in anything that’s not the actual manga. I like to think they both developed mutual crushes on each other in middle school and Aoi was very internally angsty and aware of her’s whereas Nene was very repressed abt her feelings for girls in general

• They totally have sleepovers every week, on Fridays specifically. They do typical things like watching movies and painting each other’s nails but they’re teenage girls so they’d also probably try to summon demons. And since this is tbhk they’d probably succeed a few times (now I need an au where Nene summons Bloody Mary instead of Hanako)

• Since it’s Aoinene ofc there’s gotta be a moment when Aoi finally opens up to Nene about everything, but I don’t think that would come without difficulty. Lots of avoiding each other and being super distant bcuz neither of them want to be the first to bring it up, then maybe a dramatic fight or two before they come back together on calmer terms and have a long conversation at one of their sleepovers about everything. Whether platonic or romantic that's usually how I envision their resolution

• I think it would also have to come after Aoi's taken some time to work through her mental health problems, she's made progress but she still has a long way to go and that stuff isn't easy to talk about, especially when she knows Nene's view of her will change

• I don't think Nene ever intends to hurt Aoi though, she's more-so negligent and a bit self-centered. And she seems to know something is off with Aoi never talking abt herself but she can't take that further step into understanding WHY she acts the way that she does

• To be honest I see Nene as stressing a lot when she realizes something's going on because she doesn't want to lose their friendship, and I do think she would embrace the real Aoi with open arms if she ever were to meet her

• Then I think they'd have some struggles of adjusting to their new dynamic and figuring out how they work with Aoi being herself + Aoi would instinctively try to pull away a bit, but I think they'd find a way to make it work

• They would constantly be going on dates, wanting to try new places together. They've probably tried every cafe in their town, I could also see them being the type of couple to have each other's orders memorized

• A lot of fics tend to pull them away from their canon love interests in one way or another but not me, Hanako and Akane automatically become wingmen. Those girls are a mess and they need all the advice they can get, even if their makeshift relationship counsellors are far from qualified

• They match their outfits whenever they go out, and they're also 100% the type to do matching Halloween costumes

• Nene has a houseplant in her room that's a gift from Aoi

• Nene calls Aoi every time she has to run errands but doesn't want to do it alone. They end up at the pet store a lot

• Their moms are both convinced they're secretly dating and place bets on when they'll announce it

• They both get easily flustered around each other when they first start dating but in different ways; Nene is a very loud and dramatic type of flustered, very shoujo protagonist core. And Aoi is more the quiet, tsundere genre of flustered

• In the future I picture Nene as a successful writer and Aoi as a flower shop owner and they have a house by the beach. And a hamster, of course

• I also choose to believe they were girlfriends in the Ghost Hotel au before Aoi passed, then they got reunited when Nene arrived at the hotel

• Nene cries very easily and Aoi is a good fake-crier

• Aoi is a little spoon, pass it on

That's all I can think of rn, tysm for your ask! I am going to continue brainrotting over Aoinene for the foreseeable future lmao

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 10 Grand Entrance, Grand Exit

Holy crap ten episodes in already it hasn't felt like that long...

I'm in a rush today cuz I gotta be somewhere :'D LAZY INTRO

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Logico stands uncomfortably in a tight crowd. Viscount Eminence, Silverton the Legend, and Assistant Applegreen are there all of a sudden, apparently more guests to Lady Violet’s ‘party’.

APPLEGREEN: HEY! Don’t you remember? I’m not ‘assistant’ Applegreen anymore! I’m AGENT APPLEGREEN! I work for Hollywood now! LOGICO: Thank you… for that necessary recap. APPLEGREEN: 😊

President White and Sable SHOULD be there, but I guess they aren’t. The doors rattle. The friends stare expectantly! Out comes Lady Violet.

VIOLET: The holiday party… has officially… BEGUN!!

Some confetti cannons go off and an ensemble plays a fanfare. Everyone cheers (except Logico, because he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to be cheering for). And they all step inside.

EMINENCE: [amazed mini-vampire noises!] SILVERTON: I appreciate the gold trim… APPLEGREEN: I want to BUY IT ALL!! VIOLET: I am so happy to have you all in the Violet Manor with me on this occasion. First, you will move into your bedrooms.

She walks up a golden staircase and gestures towards many, many doors. There’s a dead person in front of one of them! Violet screams in rage.

VIOLET: HOW DID ONE OF YOU KILL SOMEBODY BEFORE I EVEN LET YOU INTO THE BUILDING?!

Logico tries to calm her down. 

VIOLET: I’m fine… everything is fine… LOGICO: Well. I wouldn’t say everything- VIOLET: IS THAT HELPFUL?? LOGICO: No…

Murder time. Silverton spies something out the window and rushes (as fast as a slug could possibly ‘rush’) outside. Suspicious! Logico follows him at an equally pathetic speed. But it seems he’s only distracted by a rabbit topiary.

SILVERTON: Hello bunny. [pet pat pot] That’s a fantastic bunny… I wish I had my very own bunny… 

He tragically hugs the bush. Logico cringes. This is hard to watch! He goes back inside. A bag of pure money awaits him! 

LOGICO: Okay, who brought this much shopping money? EMINENCE: Not I! I would never stoop so low as to carry my own cash! I only want your blood!

A compelling argument indeed. Violet screams suddenly!

LOGICO: WHAT? WHAT HAPPENED?? VIOLET: That thing got into my house!!

She points aggressively to a pigeon with a note in its beak. Politely, the bird hops to Logico and drops the paper to him.

“Don’t ask how I know, but Silverton the Legend brought a back of cash. ;)”

LOGICO: How cute. 

The bird returns home to Irratino, escaping Violet’s crushing grasp. Logico looks at the body one more time, and realizes the blood has been drained from the individual. 

LOGICO: I probably should have checked that first. EMINENCE: Yes, I did it. He was an agent of the Revolution, and therefore, he had to go, just as the Red Revolution must go! But Old Drakonia shall remain. The aristocracy shall remain! And we of the vampiric race shall have our rights restored! Keep your faith and hold out, and remember, as St. Lupine said, God Fights for Us! LOGICO: Who is St. Lupine? I feel like I’m seeing the name a lot.

Eminence dives out the window and flies far away to a gothic castle in the distance. Who could have thought he lived in a place like this! 

Applegreen tries to sneak out with the bag of money.

LOGICO: No no you don’t! APPLEGREEN: BUT I NEED IT MORE!

That’s probably true, but regardless, like a good person, Logico throws the cash back to Silverton. It hits him on the head and he falls into the rabbit bush, leaving a giant hole in it.

SILVERTON: NO! BUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-

The end!

I am still obligated to give you them again, their ship name is cheesmallow

Ily baiii

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!