#but also wait i wanna see others take their foolish ships so

[cigarette-room]

everyone: he would Not Fucking Do That

me: he would if he was in love

[thewolfisawake]

Can A Fire Bird Love a Broken Bird

Romantic or Platonic: Romantic

How Many Within Your Ship: Two

First Impression:

Amara: (by my very wrong guess) What an odd person...

Noita: He has quite beautiful hair.

When is the Anniversary: There is no set date for wedding since that hasn’t come about with them. But it might as well be their shared birthday of December 13th. They recreate romantic moments on that day.

Who Looks Forward to Celebration: Hear me out, Amara was the one into it before hand. Like I can’t think of all the celebrations they’d be into but birthday is consistent because it’s so important for them. Amara never had a birthday--he remembers at least. When Noita offered their birthday, it was more so that it was something better than the actual day. But of course Amara is like ‘the world gave my songbird on this day, of course I wanna celebrate.’ And it got a ‘wait, no.’ He had to be excited about it first and then Noita didn’t want to make the birthday suck because it is now his day and he’s just so happy about it. So now they’re both into the celebration but it was definitely started by Amara.

Favorite Celebration: I will give you one guess. Although the Halloween-like holidays are second.

Pet Names:

Amara -> Noita: Songbird is pretty much it. It’s usually a serious moment if he straight up calls them Noita.

Noita -> Amara: Love (yes they are that bad at names) although I find more commonly it’s some form of ‘you __ bird’ (silly or foolish being most common). Them calling Amara by his name isn’t unusual on the other hand.

1-5 Words to Describe This Ship: This life is worth living (Amara’s POV) / You cursed me with happiness (Noita’s POV) / Sunshine x Grump (Me)

Matching Outfits: You’d think they wouldn’t care but honestly I think Noita has too much pride to do matching outfits. They would see it as lame and say no.

Unnatural Hair: I mean, by technical standards, they both have unnatural hair. But let’s be real, Amara’s hair is pretty unusual/stand out. It also may or may not be magical.

Physical Affection: I think Amara would die if doesn’t get physical affection from Noita every other day. I am being hyperbolic but he does love the cuddling, hand holding (the salacious bastard), and the like with Noita. While it isn’t Noita’s love language, I do think it’s super sweet and important that they let Amara be touchy. Like with anyone they aren’t close with, they literally bristle. It takes time to be where it’s they bristle instinctually but let go soon after. But because of how Amara’s warmth is rolled into his touch, Noita at this point doesn’t even react anymore because they know it’s him and know he’s safe.

Early Riser: Amara, hands down. He rises with the sun literally. So while he likes to just chill, see sunrise and all that, Noita’s asleep. Probably from staying up too late again. It leaves time for him to get a headstart on breakfast (why is he just so good??)

Their Song: I don’t know if they have a precise song. They do have a playlist. But I think a newer song from when that was made is ‘Come Home With Me’ from H.adestown.

Motif: Sun and Moon, baby.

Prefers Actions Over Words: Both depending the situation. Amara tends to physically show his love to Noita very clearly and very abundantly. Noita also shows affection physically but in little ways and usually privately.

Who’s In Front of the Camera/Works Behind the Scenes: Actually...I don’t see either as being in front of a camera. So behind the scenes it is.

What is Their Wallpaper: Amara is not that good with technology but I do think he could figure out the camera and probably has the wallpaper of the two of them. Noita would not have anything particular for their wallpaper. Mainly because they do not want to have any conversation point with their comrades.

What is Their Flower: Amara’s favorite flowers are blue lotuses. Noita’s are red spider lilies.

What is Their Scent: I imagine that Amara has more of an earthy scent like amber and sometimes the faintness of sunflowers. Noita doesn’t have a strong scent but what is prominent at any time is the scent of rosemary.

Where Would They Travel for a Week: There is no particular place that they would choose since they already travel quite extensively. However there was a fondness for Greece, especially on the islands.

What Makes The Other Comfortable to Them:

Amara -> Noita: Their quiet protectiveness like a hand to pull you back from danger. The tranquility that surrounds their presence.

Noita -> Amara: The ability to love so unabashedly and peaceable, no matter how difficult it is. The lack of judgement that cares not what they are.

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.07

Decrepit Old Grump

9/29/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,510

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst

A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky is gutted.

He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.

Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.

In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.

Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.

The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.

You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.

Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.

Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.

Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?

The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?

Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.

He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.

With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.

No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?

How much must that be hurting you now?

Idiot.

Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.

He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.

However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.

When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.

You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.

You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?

You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.

How you must not be able to look at him…

The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.

He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.

However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.

He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.

He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.

Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.

That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.

Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?

How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.

You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.

You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.

How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.

“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.

You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?

It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.

You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.

“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.

What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?

He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.

“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.

He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.

“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”

Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.

No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.

You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.

It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.

Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.

“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.

Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.

“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.

“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.

The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.

For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.

Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.

“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.

His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.

“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.

You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.

You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.

You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.

“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.

“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.

“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.

Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”

The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.

He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.

You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.

“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.

“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”

You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.

“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.

“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.

He says nothing.

“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”

There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.

He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.

“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.

“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”

He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.

“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”

You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”

His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.

You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.

He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.

He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.

You nod.

“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.

He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.

You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.

Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.

“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.

“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.

“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”

“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”

You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”

“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.

The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.

The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.

Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.

“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.

You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.

As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.

He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.

“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.

The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.

“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.

You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.

Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.

Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.

Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.

His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.

He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.

It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.

Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.

“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”

He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.

He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.

You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.

The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.

The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.

Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.

He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.

He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.

“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.

“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.

As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.

“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.

“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”

“Let me just finish with this trap.”

“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.

You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.

Ten months.

It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.

You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.

There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.

He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.

You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.

With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.

The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.

You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.

You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.

“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.

“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.

“We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”

He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.

Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.

“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.

“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.

“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”

“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”

Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”

Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.

“We should make plans, just in case.”

“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.

“We need to.”

“Not yet.” He insists.

“Bucky.” You press.

“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”

“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”

“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”

“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.

“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”

“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.

A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.

Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”

Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.

“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.

You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.

A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”

No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…

“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”

“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.

Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.

You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.

Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.

“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.

The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.

Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.

“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.

He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.

“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.

“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”

From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.

“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.

“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.

As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.

“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”

[clonecest-bin-account]

Relaxing massage

Ship: Jessix

Rating: E

Kix gives Jesse a massage.

AO3 link

When Kix offers him a massage, Jesse immediately says yes, without thinking about it not ever for a moment.

The feeling of Kix’s hands travelling all across his body has to be one of his favorites, if anything because of how good he is at it, always knowing where to touch and where to tease; it helps that, first things first, Kix is a medic, so anatomical knowledge is his forte, and secondly, that he knows Jesse’s body by heart, which makes having sex with him truly something special. He really loves it.

 A groan leaves his lips as Kix works at one of his knots of his back. Now more than ever he’s grateful for his cyare’s talent with his hands.

He still can’t help but to think at how readily he answered when Kix asked if he could do this; what can he say, it would’ve been foolish to refuse, and Jesse is no fool. As if he’d ever refuse a chance for some good times thanks to Kix. So here he is, lying down on his bunk, naked, with Kix settled on his legs, massaging his body.

He can smell the pungent odor of the oils he’s using and he gotta say, he likes it. He’s not even the only one who does: as he was passing through to leave the barracks, suspicious empty except from them - almost as if Kix had told them to buzz off beforehand - Hardcase commented on it too, saying that, whatever it is, it’s good. He also commented on Jesse’s ass, but he just laughed and waved him off - they all share the same body, so there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

He wonders how long the smell of the oils will linger in the room. It might be a double-edged sword because, if on one hand it would be nice if the barracks would smell good instead that of sweat or something worse, on the other Jesse fears that the association of this smell to what Kix is doing to him right now might lead to some awkward times. Oh well, that’s the last of his problems right now, so he can easily discard this thought.

 “Good?” Kix asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer to that question. Still, Jesse humors him with a groan, which makes Kix chuckle and lower his hands until…

A squeak leaves Jesse’s lips when Kix’s fingers circles his rim. He immediately turns towards him, question evident in his eyes. “Kix?” he utters.

“No?” Kix asks, looking like he hasn’t just touched his ass.

Jesse ponders about it. What is he exactly afraid of? By now he’s pretty sure he must’ve done something to convince everyone to stay clear of the barracks, meaning that he must have something in mind.

It would be a waste of a perfect occasion if he says no, wouldn’t it?

“Why not?” he says then, curious to see what Kix has in store for him; it’s surely going to be good.

 He’s immediately rewarded by Kix’s smile as he leans down to leave a kiss on Jesse’s shoulder, while he goes back with his fingers to Jesse’s ass, reaching for his entrance.

His movements are featherlike, slow, methodical. The oil is of great help as Kix begins to circle the tight pucker with a digit. It’s just one and yet it’s already makes Jesse twitch from the anticipation.

“Sssh… Stay calm,” Kix gently admonishes him, kissing a line from shoulder to shoulder. That’s easy for you to say, Jesse would love to tell him, but all that comes out of his mouth is a groan; Kix doesn’t say anything about that, so it must’ve been good enough.

 Jesse has no idea about how much time has passed, but Kix still hasn’t moved on from massaging his rim. He’s tried already to subtly move in a way that would make Kix understand that he’s more than ready for what comes next, but to no avail.

“Kiiiiixie, c’mon…” he tries, then, figuring that maybe he just needs to be direct.

“Soon,” is all Kix replies with, however, much to Jesse’s frustration. He lets out a groan, burying his face between his arms. Why has his dear cyare decided that he was going to torture him like this today?

And yet, Jesse can’t help but to think as Kix keeps circling his rim, unrelenting, that he doesn’t really mind it. Kix could do any sorts of things to him and he’d take them all.

 When Kix moves down, it’s enough to convince Jesse that things are about to get moving, so you can imagine his disappointed when he finds out that he’s doing it only to lay one single kiss to his pucker, making it twitch.

“Kixieeeeee,” he whines, making Kix chuckle.

Something changes, however, before Jesse finally feels Kix’s thumb breaching inside. His cyare is moving slowly, carefully, as if Jesse wouldn’t be able to handle it if he were rougher, though it’s also true that it’s nice being pampered like this.

He mutters a small “yes” when Kix begins to move his thumb in and out. He almost looks like he’s testing the waters, but as long as he keeps moving, Jesse’s happy about it.

 Kix goes on just for a little while, then he pulls away, much to Jesse’s desperation. He begins trashing around, trying to get some contact again. “Kix!”

A chuckle. “I’ve got you, relax!” Kix says, soothing Jesse by pressing a finger inside, making Jesse groan. Damn, Kix must’ve ruined him if he’s getting this worked up just for a mere finger!

He shivers at the way the other arches it upwards, crooking it just right. At this point, Jesse isn’t even bothering keeping quiet, letting him know just how much he’s appreciating him.

His moans are getting higher in pitch when Kix adds another finger, scissoring inside him. The stretch feels so good.

 Stretching him open, however, isn’t Kix’s objective, and soon, in fact, he drops it in favor of something else.

It takes little effort to find what he’s looking for, and as soon as he does, Kix begins to rub his fingers against that spot mercilessly, without skipping a beat.

It feels nice, of course, but for now that’s it. Still, Jesse doesn’t do anything except enjoying the sensation of Kix rubbing against his prostate. He closes his eyes, exhaling from his nose; he doesn’t think he’s ever been looser and more relaxed in his life, even with the pleasure that is building up inside him, and it’s building up alright.

The more Kix keeps going, the more that small candle fire inside Jesse burns stronger, brighter, until it becomes a wildfire, burning Jesse from the inside.

“Kix!” he moans, shivering. Despite the build-up, Kix is still moving quite slow, which won’t do at all.

“Ssssh,” Kix mutters though, soothingly. “Relax. Just enjoy it.”

 Jesse has lost track of time; they could’ve been doing this for an hour or for a minute and he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

His entire mind feels vacant, filled up just by thoughts of Kix and the pleasure he’s giving him.

He feels on the brink of exploding, and the fact that Kix hasn’t stopped touching him doesn’t help at all. Every time he brushes against his prostate, it sends a jolt of pleasure all over Jesse’s body.

“’m close,” he manages to mutter, though it comes out more like nonsensical ramblings that actually words. It’s fine, Kix has understood him perfectly, if the way he begins to rub against his prostate more insistently and faster can tell us anything.

“That’s good. Let go,” he encourages him, voice gentle, always gentle. He crooks his fingers, and Jesse knows he’s done for. He does it again, and Jesse comes. Despite the slow pace, it still feels like a kick to the stomach, but in the best of ways.

Kix doesn’t stop moving. Helping Jesse throughout his whole orgasm, and even after then, he keeps rubbing small circles against his prostate, but in a lighter way and only occasionally making Jesse whine.

 When he slowly pulls away. Jesse lets out a sigh. His entire body feels like jelly; he doubts he’d be able to move any time soon for any reason, so he hopes that there won’t be any emergencies, because in that case he’d be as good as dead.

Thankfully that doesn’t seem to be the case, at least not for a while.

He barely realizes that Kix is turning him around until he lays down beside him; at that point, he lazily drapes an arm around his waist and rests his head against his chest.

“Holy shit…” he mutters then. It’s all he’s able to say.

Kix laughs - it brings a smile to Jesse’s tired face - and closes his arms around Jesse’s shoulder, kissing the top of his head. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay,” Jesse replies immediately. “I feel great.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kix replies.

 He waits for Jesse to have recovered a bit, then, after looking around to make sure that they’re still alone - not that privacy is such a big deal when you live this close to one another, but sometimes it’s nice - he whispers to Jesse. “It’ll still take a while before everyone makes it back. Wanna go for round two?”

 So he did stipulate some sort of agreement with the others! Jesse knew it.

 Hearing those words has a rejuvenating effect on Jesse, because he suddenly feels strong enough to be able to turn he and Kix around, getting then immediately between his legs. He’d love to repay Kix with his own coin, but he knows he’s not as patient as him; besides, it would be unkind of him to punish him when he’s made him feel so good. No, what he truly deserves is a reward.

“Oh, you didn’t even have to ask.”

[wokestraightpuffy]

Hallo, i hope you are alright and that my ask aren’t annoying but I wanted to ask do you have any c!puffy headcannons? —🤡

YOURE NOT ANNOYING AT ALL !!! NEVER THINK THAT ILU VERY MUCH. MUAH /p

as for c!puffy headcanons, i am not the best person to ever organize their thoughts properly but ill try my best >:’D

ahaha. this got. super complex and way too long and more of like an introspective study to puffy now instead of harmless fun headcanons so, uh. under read more <3 (also reminder this is all /rp and /dsmp)

* i like to think that she has a hero complex, but its a bit different since she never really sees herself as an ‘important’ part of the story, not the main character but a support one, hence ‘im fine with being the side character’ or how she’s said she doesnt care what happens to her and would gladly sacrifice(?) herself if there werent other people she had to protect. girl u need therapy urself <3

* though very open with how she feels and never afraid to say when someone/something is upsetting her, ‘opening up’ is still a whole mountain climb for her, apparently. like, she’d rant about the egg, get mad at the eggpire, let off some steam by committing arson or exploding stuff, she’ll rarely ever talk about how much the stuff that upset her actually HURT her. does that make sense? LIKE, she’ll lash out, she’ll get mad, she’ll take NO SHIT thrown at her face, but to show the kinda vulnerability of dealing with that? to cry about it talk about those feelings with someone? I think she’d rather eat her own foot lol

* adding onto the thing above, she doesnt necessarily actually realize this about herself. less of actively doing it and rather growing... used to the ‘cycle of violence’ in the smp as they call it. and the fact that rarely have people really asked, that no one’s actually available for that, w her losing her closest friends, bad and ant, sam being busy w the warden stuff... and niki. yeah. there’s foolish, but i doubt she’d ever see venting to someone she considers her son appealing

* also. puffy is just sometimes... really bad at conveying sadness. i think she’s a rare crier. id go as far to say that shes even more emotionally constipated than dream, lol (but maybe not while the guy’s in his prison arc) and that she’d be the type of person to tell you its okay to cry but beat herself up over something if she let a tear slip in a heated moment

* speaking of sadness. she’ll only ever actually Be Sad if she’s alone or with someone she doesnt necessarily care the opinions of. yknow how she mourned for tommy and blamed herself? those dialogue bits? yeah, those are only times shed actually be vulnerable

* puffy’s go to response to the egg and how its fucked up her relationship w her friends is pure fury. but, going off of her line about ‘failing bad and ant’ i like to think that she probably hates herself the most about it. THAT IS A STRONG WORD LOL BUT YEAH. she yells and curses and gets mad, but sometimes i wonder if the words she had spat before were more directed to herself

* THIS GIRL HAS SELF-IDENTITY PROBLEMS. CAN WE GET A HELL YEAH FOR THAT CHAT? outside of having no goddamn clue about where she came from, how she got here and who she even is, scrounging up a role for herself in a server with a war on the background and traumatized kids got her resignedly coerced into thinking that she is only a Parent. Only good enough when she’s actually doing something Useful for people. SO. when she finds that ship? of having a crew and having a curse? OF FINDING OUT SHE MIGHT HAVE/ HAVE HAD A MOM THATS WAITING FOR HER?  the sense of control she has on herself is absolutely crushed. shattered, and she’s left to pick up the pieces w no one to talk abt it with <3

* adding onto the above, it’s why the line ‘I’m supposed to be mama puffy. me.’ hurts me so much! so yes! please cry with me :D

* also to add more on the fact that she thinks she’s only worth something when she’s being useful, puffy literally contemplated leaving the server, thinking that it wouldnt matter leaving since no one really needs her anyway, since she’s failed so many people. bad and ant, tommy, dream. shes said how foolish can take care of himself on how tubbo and ranboo have each other, how she and niki have drifted so far away from each that it might as well be a break up.

HOOOOOOOOOO OBOY . anon youve really given me the perfect chance to ramble huh? sorry for the rather incomprehensible brainrot, here’s more lighthearted headcanons about puffy asdhfkd

* she cannot stand still sometimes. she always has to be doing something extra, walking when the prime path is right there? shed rather go through tedious little holes or hop and balance onto fences to get where shes going. she’ll mindlessly fix up the path when there are holes or mismatched wood, and one time went on a long, long LONG journey cleaning up the paths tommy purposely DESTROYED near lmanburg and even added cobblestone sidings which werent there before

* puffys a bit of a sentimental person. writing in her log to clear her thoughts sometimes and cared enough to try and preserve lmanburg with the glass sheet and trying to find possible surviving artifacts of history to respect it, even though she’s never been a part of it. its also why, when doomsday happened and lmanburg got permanently poofed, she began to appreciate the buildings that are still standing and began taking more pics 

* she’s not used to being... what do you call it, um, cared for? she’d deflect compliments sometimes, when shes having a particular bad day, like, she’d laugh nervously and change the subject, sometimes she’d outright deny it, most days she’d jokingly say ‘staphhh it’ and add a very genuine thanks. my point being is, do something for puffy that is mildly nice and she’d keep that moment in her heart forever. 

* also funny story regarding the above. u know how karl is notorious for stealing her materials? and how puffy was contemplating doing something in retaliation for them? karl says hi for once when she joins the server and she goes ‘alright fine youre safe for saying hi’ LOL THIS WAS PROBABLY A BIT META WISE but something about this implying that the bare minimum or LESS is enough to make puffy forgive someone is very sad and funny at the same time for me. girl really said ‘oh you said hi to me? thats nice all the crimes youve ever done towards me is now forgiven. <3’ (this is a bit of an exaggeration on my part, ofc, i just think its funny LMAO) 

* ironically, despite being the ‘captain’, whenever riding a boat with someone, she prefers being on the backseat and letting them drive. ig shes just there for the ride i suppose, her and her uber drivers :3

 * she either has a rather unhealthy obsession with baked potatoes or she just doesnt wanna waste eret’s massive potato farm

* idc what cc!puffy says is c!puffy will always and forever be 5′2″ in my HEART. u are the shortest member, u cannot change this <3

* shes really fond of animals/ neutral mobs. she often baby talks to them and they help boost her mood a lot when shes having a bad day :D

* up to this day, the little secret rooms she’s created around the server have all been yet to be discovered, unless the one under bad’s house has been found. she rarely ever really keeps tabs on them, and more often than not they are just collecting dust. she still visits sometimes and cleans them up ofc

* she still genuinely thinks dream can change. cc!puffy’s line about that, ‘i’m his last hope.’ really makes me think about this a lot. 

* ive seen people talk abt it a bit but the headcanon that puffy acts as the server mom to fill the ‘void’ of her missing her mom makes me cry at night /hj

* she really likes her rainbow onesie! i headcanon that eret gave her that along w the sunglasses, but she started wearing that less when she found her old captains uniform. shes never really said why, though, and nobody ever really bothered to ask

* god bless this woman but sometimes the server members get on her nerves sometimes so she goes out of her way to traverse along far away from the main community to maybe commit a few crimes. let off some steam. these take a few days but she always returns

i probably have a lot more hcs but i cant remember them >_> THIS IS A LOT ANYWAY. HOPE U ENJOYED MY BRAIN VOMIT. IF U READ THIS FAR ILU THANK U

if there are mistakes it is bc i am crying and cannot see my keyboard and also i am sleep deprived /hj

[sanktagenyas]

ok ok ok so i’m on ep 6 (about to start it) of shadow and bone and i’m not writing this ‘cause i’m full of restraint and don’t wanna keep watching all the way through far from it but i have some thoughts.

ok first things first: darklina. i love them and i think i have to attribute a lot of why i love them so much to ben barnes and jessie mei li’s portrayal and their chemistry which is just on fire. i already like book version (what i’ve read so far at least) a lot so there was a lot to live up to. that was pretty much top priority for me will they do these two justice and i have high expectations for the scenes between them now that alina’s made her turn, now that she knows who the darkling really is.

now there are a couple of changes been made from the book which was to expect but that kinda bugged me. in the book the darkling is very evasive, alina sees him very rarely which makes sense the man ought to be busy planning if they’re gonna go into the fold eventually. and so because the moments between them are rarefied there’s this anticipation to it all and i wish the show would have spaced out their scenes together more so that it would translate. i also personally thought reading the book that the darkling deliberately kept his distance from alina because she unsettles him. she makes him feel things he hasn’t felt in a long time. i always thought that if he wanted to keep her at his side and loyal he could have easily seduced her into bed a lot sooner than he tried to. after that if he’d played his cards right he could have spun her another tale to make her adhere to his plans with the fold. he could have convinced her it was the right thing to do if he really is that good of a manipulator but i always figured his feelings for her were getting in the way of him going that extra mile, hence him keeping his distance.

i got spoiled about his name and i didn’t quite get why she learns about it now. that’s gonna ruin whatever weight that moment has in the books. actually that moment won’t happen now i’m guessing.

also because since i’m being picky i might as well add that i wish this whole talk of the black heretic had gone the way it has in the books. she’s practically having to pry information out of him like his age but here he tells her about the black heretic and not just that but also how he feels about being blamed for his ancestor’s mistakes. i get it, it’s manipulation but i prefer the less open version of the darkling from the book. that version seemed more sincere, he didn’t spin a tearful tale of a boy marked unjustly and decried for his ancestor’s sins. he just said it matter of factly. he lied but at least he wasn’t being a manipulative ass about it in the book. withholding information and outright lies are bad enough but using alina’s own pain for being an outsider/undesirable against her by weaving this tale of him being one too was just a bit much.

but i think it plays a part in a bigger issue i have with the show but more on that later.

i did really really enjoy darklina so far regardless. the more open version of the darkling means that we get to see alina tease a lightness (pun intented) out of him that make him seem younger than he is, more of the innocent boy he once was maybe but then again he reverts back to that calculating cold gaze just in time. lest we forget who our villain is here. i absolutely LOVED the fact that they gave alina more agency and more of an active role in the relationship, i couldn’t be happier about the fact that we lost their original book first kiss post baghra training if it means we get to see alina kiss him first. she really blossomed once she let go of mal i don’t know if you noticed. that flashback of her hurting herself so she would fail the grisha’s test was heartbreaking to see. really hammered home for me why i can’t get behind malina.

which brings us to malina. i’ll keep it brief. i wish the show would stop shoving these two at us like you’d push a puppy onto an unwilling adopter. no matter how shiny and big those eyes are i’m not interested. the use of flashbacks to their common past and to that damn meadow was excessive to say the least and i kept waiting and waiting to feel what the showmakers were intending to invoke in their audience but i must not be the target for it because i just didn’t. there’s an appeal to the kind of ease and fondness that two best friends have between one another and in both their actions (especially mal’s actually, another change from book form) the love is apparent but that doesn’t change the conclusion i reach inevitably when it comes to these two: they are a codependant mess. they let themselves go when they’re not together as if being separated means a fate worse than death, as if they can’t function without the other. that’s especially true for alina. and they both make foolish reckless choices that hurt other people in the process of getting back to one another. but at least in mal’s case he had reason to fear for her safety and didn’t put mikhael and dubrov in harm’s way on purpose. alina’s short sightedness when burning those maps was the one moment i was genuinely fuming mad at our hero. 

and then there’s mal. a mal pov means a chance to get to know him better and go from me tolerating the guy to liking him or heck maybe even love him. if i could love mal half as much alina does it would make his scenes so much better instead of being the most boring part of any episode and i’d say natural seeing as he’s also competing with a lot of very lively and interesting characters. i mean kaz is pretty damn stoic and yet i’m never bored by him, not for one second. the issue is that mal’s scenes revolve around alina, his scenes are yet another way to shove malina down our throats and i cannot take it. i appreciate his bravery and his loyalty but his best scene to me is the one with him crying over mikhael’s dead body. a scene devoid of any callback to alina or malina. give him a story that doesn’t revolve around her, give him more to do beside being his own one man rescue team for alina. he deserves better.

now my big fear is darklina related i’m thinking because they made the darkling much more open with alina it’s all gonna seem more deliberate to her, she’s going to not just doubt and fine comb through her interactions with him to find the lie she’s going to be flat out convinced it was just an act from start to finish which means more angst. i hope they won’t go from the heat of these two together to just dead coldness and that they’d keep alina’s pull that she feels towards him. i didn’t forget how she just melted into him against herself when he kissed her again even though she was his captive then and under threat of harm. i didn’t forget how she still feels about him by that point and i hope the showrunners and writers didn’t forget. they don’t need to diminish darklina to push their malina agenda and if they do? well maybe malina isn’t as attractive of a ship as they think it is.

[thewildomega]

Always wondered how Katakuri would react to a painter S / O ? The strange way they look at life from an artistic view , Since it probably wouldn't be practical for a pirate to be an artist : ( Like them randomly stopping to admire a flower and talking about how the color makes them feel only to hear someone like Luffy say " it's just a flower , what's the big deal ? " ) You can make is angst if you want , but can it please have a happy ending ? ( I don't wanna cry!😫)

P.s. My angst idea is the Katakuri's S / O has some ability to do with water and her belief is that is the only reason Katakuri and the Charlotte fam like her (she might be right about some of them🤔) after all I imagine they would think being a painter is stupid . You don't have to do this it's just my idea . 🌸Please and thank you💖

A/N: Thank you for requesting! So I changed a few things up but I hope you liked it!

Through the eyes of an Artist 

Finding a secluded area away from everyone else you pulled out your sketch book and charcoals, your most cherished possessions. Glancing up to the spring that was surrounded by beautiful flowers of all colors you grinned a little and started drawing away, drifting away into your own mind. Times like these were your favorite, times when you could be yourself and not the woman you had been forced to play the part of. 

Your mother and father owned a large sugar cane plantation and had made many business investments over the years by marrying off your brothers and sister. now however it was your turn, your parents chosen suitor had been none other than a man from the Charlotte family, one of the notorious Big Mom's sons. For weeks now you parents had been doubling down on your 'princess' training along with your lessons on how to make be a proper wife. You hadn't known to just two days ago when your ship had arrived at Toto Land Island that your betrothed just happened to be the most feared of them all, Katakuri. Having only been in his presence once, he had said nothing to you, only looked down at you with a cold stare that told you everything you needed to know. He didn't want you. Your parents and brothers had seen it as well apparently and the moment all of you had been shown to your temporary rooms they had all started jumping you. 

"You couldn't smile a little?"

"Why did you not curtsy like we talked about?"

"Couldn't you have made yourself even the slightest bit attractive tonight?" 

"You are such a disappointment..."

"Why oh why did we have to be cursed with such a worthless daughter!"

"The only thing good she has going for her is her devil fruit powers..."

On and on they went, your eyes focused on the floor as tears brimmed and threatened to spill down your cheeks. That night when you had laid in bed all you could think about was how not even your husband would care about you. You were doomed to be forever unloved. What sucked even more was that you were being ripped away from the only friend that you had ever had, the only person that didn't see you as a failure and waste of space. Tika had been the only person to seem to like you for you not just because of your water manipulation devil fruit powers. 

Before you knew it splotches were messing up your art piece and you sniffled as you reached up to wipe away the tears falling from your eyes. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath and sighed. Opening your eyes a bit you looked towards the blueish purple hyacinth and blinked slowly, turning the page to capture that single flower, the one that represented how you felt. Adding in different shades and blending them together with your fingertip you tilted your head to the side in concentration, not even hearing the person walk up behind you. 

"You shouldn't be out here." a deep voice spoke. 

Completely caught off guard by the sudden voice you threw your sketch book and charcoal out of your hands and let out a little yelp. Snapping your eyes up you saw the two crimson eyes looking at you with the same coldness and disdain as they had two days ago. Opening and closing your mouth you quickly bowed your head. "I'm sorry. I... I didn't know it was off limits o..or anything I just... well I..." Stupid you had done it again, you had messed up again. Just like you always did. "I'm sorry." you said in a whisper. 

He just stood there watching as the woman, his bride to be stumbled over an apology. Seeing her bow her head low and then move to gather her things he moved his eyes to the ground and saw a pad of paper of sorts and what looked to be a set of colorful charcoals, many of which were very small. She had been drawing? Crouching down he began helping her gather all the little pieces for her. 

When his large hand started picking the pieces of charcoal out of the grass to hand them to you you glanced up to him and saw his face buried in his scarf. Taking them when he held them out for you, you quickly thanked him and went about placing them in the small bag you had. Being so focused on the task at hand you didn't even notice him lift your sketch pad up and flip it over to examine your flower piece until it was too late. "No! Don't look at tha...." you tried saying but it was too late.

Standing back to his full height he looked over the different drawings and art pieces. "You did all these?" he asked, his voice emotionless. 

Curling up some you mumbled out a small 'yes' and readied yourself for the cruel words you were so used to hearing. When he said nothing you bit your lip and looked down. "I know it's a useless pass time, stupid even but I..."

Looking to a painting of the sea he grinned a little behind his scarf. "You are an exceptional artist." Hearing her small gasp he looked down to see a small blush dusting her cheeks and her eyes looking up at him in pure shock. She wasn't used to such compliments apparently. 

You could honestly say your heart warmed a bit at his kind words and you swallowed thickly before replying. "Thank you." 

Humming he began leading her back to the palace. "Do you preferer to use Charcoals?" he asked. 

Shaking your head you reached up to brush your hair back behind your ear. "No, paints are my favorite." 

"Gouache, Watercolors, acrylics or oil?" he asked. 

You had never had anyone to talk about art with before and could feel yourself smiling a little at the conversation. "Well I've only ever been able to use Acrylics and oil based paints before. I have seen some watercolor pieces from other artist before though and hope to one day try them as well." 

Humming he continued walking with her all the way to the palace doors, the both of them quietly talking about this and that until he heard a man and woman yell his fiancé's name. 

Quickly looking up when you heard your parents yell your name you saw them both waiting at the front entrance, deep scowls on their faces. Instantly the smile that Katakuri had managed to bring to your lips disappeared. "Mother, fath..."

"Where have you been?! We have been searching for you for hours!" you mother screeched. "Just look at your dress, covered in those damn charcoals again." she snapped. 

"I.. I'm sorry.. I..." You started but were quickly cut off by your father. 

"No more of your excuses. I am sick and tired of this worthless hobby of yours." he growled, snatching your sketch pad and charcoals from you. 

"No, please father I..."

"Y/n that is enough." your mother hissed out between clenched teeth. 

"Now, you will apologize to Katakuri for no doubt wasting his time with your foolishness." your father demanded. 

He had stood there quietly, listening to Y/n's parents belittle her. Crossing his arms over his chest he continued to remain silent, even when his bride to be turned to him and whispered out a sorrowful apology. Not responding because he knew if he opened his mouth he would say too much he just stood there and watched as her mother grabbed her wrist, too hard judging by the small wince she made, and quickly pulled her back towards their rooms. 

Sighing your father pinched the bridge of his nose and turned towards the commander. "I assure you Katakuri she isn't as useless as she seems. While she may be stuck on this junk and her looks aren't very good, my daughter does have a powerful water power unlike any other. I have no doubt that she will prove to be a valuable asset to your family. Not to mention she will also be able to give you plenty of heirs. I only hope this little mishap hasn't made you change your mind about marrying her. I will be having a long talk with her and I promise that she will give this up." he said, holding up the art supplies in his hand . 

Gritting his teeth he glared down at the man. "I intend to keep my families side of the deal." Without another word he walked away from the man before he did something he would regret or rather something his mother would not be happy about. 

........................

Today was the day, your wedding day but you couldn't find a reason to be happy. All day you had been getting ready. People pinning you up in an attempt to make you look somewhat acceptable. Your mother's harsh comment about Katakuri not looking to your face too long making a knot form in your throat. Walking down the isle towards him you could only think back on the last few days where he had went back to ignoring you. To your knowledge the two of you had been hitting it off pretty good the other day, speaking of this and that. Perhaps though your family had been right and he was only being nice for the sake of your upcoming union. 

Standing beside him as the priest spoke you looked him over through your veil and noticed how handsome he looked. Before too long your mind had began making notes about how you could draw this moment later but then you remembered your father's words and frowned. Never again would you be allowed to practice your art skills, having brought enough shame to your family. 

When it came time to kiss and he lifted your veil you looked up into his crimson eyes and saw them not as cold as they were before and blinked. Feeling him kiss your head through his scarf you heard one of your brothers make a quiet comment about not blaming Katakuri for wanting to kiss you, the words making your heart clench painfully. 

During the reception you sat beside Katakuri and kept your head down. 

"Congratulations..."

Looking up you saw a thin, tall looking woman standing there and straightened up when you realized it was one of the other Charlotte children. "T..Thank you." you said politely. 

"My name is Brulee, we haven't met yet but Big Brother here tells me you are an artist." she said with a smile. 

"An Artist!?" Big Mom questioned around a mouthful of cake. 

Gasping a little you looked between her and your husband. Nodding a bit you opened your mouth to speak when you caught sight of your father staring daggers at you and dropped your shoulders. "I... I used to be."

Knitting his brows at her sudden change in emotion he looked across the hall to see her father looking at her with a very strict look and raised his chin as father went on talking to his mother. 

"It was a childhood hobby, nothing to brag about." you father laughed off with the rest of your family joining in. 

Seeing his wife's eyes look to her lap and noticing a droplet of water fall to her lap he let out a deep breath and stood. "Mama, Y/n and I are going to retire for the night." he spoke deeply.

"Yes, yes. Of course you both are ready for the honeymoon." she laughed. 

Blushing behind his scarf he said nothing as he held his hand out for Y/n to take, noticing her hand shaking a bit. "Brulee." he said and heard his little sister hum. Without a word they led her from the room and out to the hall. Seeing Brulee stand before a mirror he continued holding his wife's hand as his sister opened the mirror world. 

Going through one mirror and then being led to another you felt Katakuri stop and glanced up just the tiniest amount. 

"Thank you sister." he said. 

"Of course." She told her brother with a smile before looking down to the smaller woman. "I can't wait to get to know you Y/n. Congratulations again." 

With that you felt Katakuri pull you through another mirror and looked around when you saw you were now in a large house of sorts. 

Seeing her look around curiously he grinned, "Welcome home." 

Looking up to him you blinked and then scanned your eyes around the house. From where you were, which seemed to be a front foyer you could see a living area, kitchen and dining room. There was a massive stairway in front of you with many doors on the upper level that were closed. 

"I will give you the grand tour tomorrow but there is one room I have been wanting to show you." he said. Holding her hand he led her up the stairs and down the hall a bit to the third door down from his... their bedroom. Grabbing the knob he looked down to her and grinned behind his scarf. "I wanted you to have a room to call your own... I guess you could call it a wedding gift from me to you." he told her, noticing her confused look. Opening the door he turned on the light and instantly heard her gasp. 

Gasping you moved your hand to cover your mouth. Staring into the room you saw it filled with different art supplies. A large easel sat in the middle of the room with a chair in front of it. New paints of all different colors and types sat on the built in shelves and any other kinds of supplies you could ever dream of having. For the first time in your life you felt happy tears fill your eyes. You had to be dreaming, this had to be a dream. 

Watching her quietly he said nothing until a few minutes had passed and he started getting nervous, maybe he had went overboard and it was now creepy. "So is this acceptable... do you like..." He didn't get to finish his sentence before she was pulling him down by his scarf and smashing her lips to his. Freezing he felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes go wide. Her soft lips stayed on his for a moment before she slowly pulled away and opened her eyes to look at him. Readying himself for the cruel comments he felt his body tense but to his surprise she only smiled and it made him even more uncomfortable. "Well go on say something." he grunted out. 

Cupping his scared cheek you felt his large teeth against your skin and smiled, "You're beautiful, a true masterpiece. Maybe one day you might let me paint you?" 

A deep blush tinted his cheeks and now it was him that thought he was dreaming. 

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 16

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.

Chapter 16 summary: You go with Aja, Krel, and Stuart to the moon to rescue Varvatos.

If there was one spell you were using more often it was the lullaby spell. You quietly sang to the baby in your arms. It was late and you had caught her crying. Thankfully she hadn’t woken any of the other babies and your lullaby was helping her fall back into a peaceful sleep.

Just as you put her back into the crib you felt your phone vibrate. You took it out of your pocket and saw that Toby was calling. You quickly left the house so you wouldn’t wake anyone.

“Hello?” You asked, answering it.

“Hey, Y/n, so my friends, Aja and Krel need help with something and I immediately thought of you.”

“Oh, I know Aja and Krel. What do they need? Is it another bounty hunter?” You asked, concerned. You had only known them for about an hour, but you had grown to care for the siblings. Your older sister instincts had kicked in.

“They need help finding their friend and since you were able to track down Glug I thought maybe you could help them out.”

“Yeah, I can figure something out,” you said. You knew you couldn’t ask Archie to help Aja and Krel, but you could look for their friend’s aura. “Text me the address and I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, and Krel said you might need a disguise.”

“Got it.”

~~~~

After dropping Mao off at Douxie’s you arrived to see Aja, Krel, Eli and Toby waiting.

“He should have been here by now. Those Durians are always late!” Krel whined.

“And this is all one big rescue mission for your geezer friend?” Eli asked.

“For Varvatos, yes,” Krel corrected. “He's being held at a bounty hunter outpost on the Earth's moon.”

“The moon? So flipping cool!” Toby exclaimed. “Although, probably not so much for your friend.”

“Wait we’re going to the moon?” You asked.

Krel, Toby and Eli turned to you. “Oh, hey Y/n. Thanks for coming,” Toby said.

“Um, yeah. I’m here to help.”

“Thank you,” Krel said. “Our friend Varvatos is trapped on the moon in this Bounty Hunter’s guild and we don’t know how big it is and Toby said you could help us find him.”

You smiled. “Yep, I just need you to tell me about him.”

“We can talk on the way there,” Krel said.

Aja paced behind you, talking on the phone. “I told you, we're at a sleepover with our friends Toby, Y/n, and Eli.”

Aja sighed. “Y/n does. I'll find out more and report back. Tomorrow.”

Aja hung up and turned to Toby and Eli. “Thanks for covering for us. Did you bring the gear?”

“As requested,” Toby said, patting a box. You jumped as a spaceship appeared behind him.

Eli gasped. “Awesome!”

“Sauc-er!” Toby joked and you shook your head, smiling at his pun.

“Greetings, Your Majesties. Your chariot awaits. Ah!” The green alien yelped as the ship sputtered.

“That doesn't inspire confidence,” Krel muttered and you nodded.

“And how long is it going to take us to reach the moon... in that?” Aja asked, jumping onto the ship.

“Assuming we make good time, 20 to 30, tops,” the alien said as Krel hopped on after his sister, with the box. He almost fell backwards, but you caught him with your magic. You levitated onto the ship.

“Wow! Minutes?” Eli marveled.

The alien laughed. “Very droll. Ha! This one's a comedian. No, not minutes, hours! So, if you have to use the john, do so now or forever hold your pee.”

“Oh dear,” you mumbled, slightly regretting your decision to help out. However, you weren’t gonna chicken out now, you really wanted to see the moon.

You hopped into the ship and took a seat.

“Who’s she?” The alien asked.

“I’m Y/n. The sorceress, but, uh, you can’t tell anyone that last part. Toby thought I could help, so here I am.”

“Well, I’m Stuart. Welcome aboard,”

~~~~

You yawned, waking up to hear the same song playing that you had fallen asleep to. “How long have I slept?” You asked, confused. In your sleep deprived state you had expected yourself to get a lot more, but the song was still playing.

“Most of the journey,” Krel said.

Aja groaned. “Why do I feel like I've heard this song a thousand times?”

“Ah, ah, ah! It is Uncle Stuey's turn to pick the music,” Stuart said.

“But I'm the-“ Krel started.

Stuart cut him off. “Yes, yes, king-in-waiting. It's a nice try. Out here, rules of the road, thank you very much.”

“But there are no roads,” Krel protested.

“I'm so bored!” Aja groaned.

“Are we there yet?” Krel asked.

“No,” Stuart said and you sighed.  

“Are we going to be there soon?” Aja asked.

“No,” Stuart replied.”

“How much longer?” Krel asked.

“Not for a while,” Stuart answered vaugly, which was beginning to annoy you.

“Like, ten mekrons?” Aja asked and you wondered what a mekron was.

“No.”

“Twenty mekrons?” Krel suggested.

“No!” Stuart snapped.

“Thirty mekrons?” Aja asked.

“We'll get there when we get there! Oi!” Stuart yelled. The ship settled into silence again and you decided it was time to try your hand at entertaining the kids.

You did a few magic tricks, mostly creating things with magic, but they were entertained nonetheless.

~~~~

Krel chuckled. “Huh.”

“What?” You asked, turning away from the game of chess you had created using magic.

Krel gestured out the window where you could see earth and the sun rising behind it. It was a beautiful sight.

Aja yawned, as Krel woke her up. “If you're waking me up, we better be there,” she threatened.

“Come on! You're gonna wanna see this,” Krel said excitedly.

“Oh, lively!” Aja breathed.

“You know, for a dump heap, it's really quite beautiful,” Krel admitted and you gave him a look.

Aj smiled. “Or as Vex would say, glorious.”

You continued to admire the planet when you heard gas hissing from Stuart.

“Ah!” Krel cried.

You plugged your nose. “Really?”

“Ah! Stuart!” Aja scolded.

“That was rank, even for you,” Krel said.

“The fact that you'd assume immediately that it's me, it's really very offensive,” Start said as he pulled down towards the moon's surface. You marveled at it.

“As far as I’m aware, I’m the first sorceress to step foot on the moon,” you said excitedly.

Aja patted your back. “Lively.”

Stuart called you over to the computer screen. “According to the computer, there appears to be an anomaly in quadrant two hundred and forty five, here in sector fourth five.”

The spaceship docked, and you, Aja, and Krel rushed out of the spaceship. You were glad to finally be out of the cramped ship.

Aja gasped. “Get me out of here!”

Krel        took a deep breath. “I can't take it anymore!”

“I can breathe!” You cried.

Aja jumped to the ground, but she instead hovered in the air. “A moon with low gravity. So lively!”

Krel jumped after her. “I got you, I got you!”

Aja sighed. “Great, but who's got you?”

Stuart jumped up to get them and he sighed contentedly as they floated to the ground. “Ah! I forgot how much I love it here. You weigh less, you've got none of that unnecessary oxygen clogging up your respiratory system.”

They reached the ground, landing in front of you. “Y/n how are you breathing?” Krel asked, suddenly realizing the lack of oxygen.

“Magic,” you said vaguely. “I cast a spell when I realized we were going to the moon.”

Krel nodded as the four of you continued walking.

“Zadra's ship! Alpha must have taken it when he captured Vex!” Krel stated excitedly. You and Krel had exchanged life stories on the long ride over, so you knew what he was talking about.

“Then the intel from that hammer guy was right. They're here,” Aja said.

The siblings went to walk away, but Stuart grabbed them. “Yeah, whoa, whoa! Easy there! This is the Hunter's Guild Lunar Outpost, where the most dastardly bounty hunters in the galaxy refuel and reload. It's also got a temporary prison. Humans would call it a drunk tank.”

“Oh yuck!” You exclaimed, you did not want to deal with a bunch of intoxicated aliens.  

“I get it! It's a rough crowd,” Aja said, shrugging off Stuart's hand.

“Which is why we're going to stick to the plan, thanks to Toby and Darci,” Krel said, spinning the box and tossing it. He held his arms out for the box, but it took awhile for it to fall. He sighed. “Let's do this.”

Krel took out the mole mascot costume and he put it on while you put a large black cape around you to hide your face and body.

“Oh!” Krel cried as a cup hit him when you walked in.

“Bounty hunters are a touchy lot. You have to stay alert.” Stuart warned.

“You try staying alert without any peripheral vision,” Krel pouted.

“Psst. Zeron Brother, 12 o'clock,” Aja warned. You looked to see a weird coyote looking thing.

The Zeron guy pulled a dagger on the robot. “I didn't order this.” He cut the robots head off and you shuddered. “Heads up, comrades. I have a drink I call the energizer. Light it up, Tronos.”

Tronos laughed. “With pleasure! Bottoms up!”

“Heh, rough crowd,” Stuart chuckled.

“Psst, keep them busy,” Aja ordered as the two of you went to find Varvatos.

The two of you eventually found him after you looked for an aura similar to Aja and Krel’s.

You approached the cell and Varvatos growled. “You enter this cell, Varvatos Vex promises you will only be hastening your own dismemberment.”

“That wasn't the reaction I was looking for,” Aja said smiling.

“Aja? Queen-in-waiting!” Varvatos exclaimed.

“Shh! That guard could come back any mekron,” Aja warned.

“Varvatos thought you were-- What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Krel and I thought a little rescue mission might make for a fun summer vacation,” Aja explained.

“A suicide mission is more like it. This place is replete with bounty hunters! Varvatos did not train you to be this foolish,” Varvatos reprimanded.

Aja grinned. “I'm glad to see prison hasn't changed you, Varvatos.”

Varvatos sighed. “This prison is a fitting punishment for what Varvatos did. Now go, and leave him to rot.”

“Haha, I didn’t come to the moon just to see it. Krel told me all about the amazing Varvatos Vex, I’m here to save you too,” you explained, hoping to encourage the poor Ackaridian.

“And who are you?” Varvatos asked.

“She is Y/n. A sorceress, but you can’t tell anyone that last bit,” Aja explained, obviously losing patience.

“Don’t worry, Aja,” You soothed. “We’ve got this.”

Aja grumbled. “We don't have time for this! As queen-in-waiting, shouldn't I decide what's a fitting punishment?” She cleared her throat. “By order of the Akiridion-Five throne, I grant you a royal pardon. I overturn your banishment and sentence you to the protection of House Tarron. Come home, Varvatos. We need you.”

Aja didn't wait for Varvatos to answer, she blasted the key pad, but it didn’t open the door.

“It's no use. The diavelant laser grid can't be deactivated without the prison guard's key,” Varvatos explained.

Aja began to scream. “What are you doing? You'll alert the guard!” Varvatos warned and you realized what Aja was doing. You began to scream too.

“I'm getting the key,” Aja said.

You didn't have to wait long for the guard to come. “Hey, what's with all the noise down here?”

You and Aja hid and when he walked to Varvatos’s cell she attacked the guard.

Unfortunately the guard fought. Back and you did your best to blast them without hitting Aja. The guard growled when your magic skimmed him.

“This is some rescue, really,’ Varvatos said.

Aja huffed. “A little patience? Or did you forget that part of your warrior training?”

Soon enough the two of you were able to kick the guard towards Varvatos’s cell. “No touching!” Varvatos warned as the guard fell into the wall. He then fell to the ground unconscious. Aja got the key and freed Varvatos.

“Varvatos was wrong to doubt your tactical prowess. It is most impressive.”

Aja smiled. “You taught me well. Wait, you're missing something.”

“Varvatos' serrator?” He laughed as Aja handed him his protractor like weapon. “Oh, how he has missed you, sweet mistress of death!” He kissed his serrator.

“I can't tell if you're happier to see me or your serrator,” Aja laughed. You began to lead them out of the dungeon, but Varvatos stopped.

“Wait. Wait one delson. Where is Zadra?” He asked.

“Come on,” you interrupted. “We need to go, I can hear fighting.”

The three of you made your way to the bar. “A room of Foo-Foo fighters. A battle of the ages!” Varvatos laughed.

“There they are!” Aja said, ignoring him. You ran over to Stuart and Krel.

“Glorious!” Vex yelled, as he watched the fight between what appeared to be all the bounty hunters.

A robot that looked like a rabbit found a gun and started firing it while you hid. “Die, die, die, die, die, die!” It yelled.

“Vex, wow! Looks like someone's been getting beefy in the clink. Really digging the lats, brah. Boom-boom!” Stuart joked.

“Hello, Stuart,” Varvatos said, but he didn’t seem too excited. His eyes lit up though when he saw Krel. “Your Highness!”

Aja interrupted the reunion. “Run now, reunions later.”

“Varvatos approves of this plan.”

The rabbit robot continued yelling. “Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die--“ Varvatos jumped out at him. “I'm dead.”

Varvatos grabbed the rabbit and began to spin it around. “Now come get some!” Varvatos challenged.

“Let’s go!” you called, creating a shield around your group as Varvatos took care of the bounty hunters.

“Varvatos thanks you for the light exercise,” he called as you left the bar. You burst out of the doors only to stop when the low gravity made you run slower.

“Varvatos Vex!” The coyote bounty hunter yelled. “Your death is mine!”

“Glorious!” Varvatos yelled only to be slowed as he exited the building. “The gravity here is most unhelpful.”

“Kleb!” Krel cursed.

“Yah! They're mine!” Coyote guy slammed the doors to the bar, keeping the other bounty hunters out.

“Hurry! He's right behind us!” Aja called.

“If we want a shot at outrunning these guys, we should take Zadra's Stryker,” Krel said, pointing.

“Hey, what are you trying to imply about my ship?” Stuart protested. You ran towards Zadra’s ship only to stop when it exploded.

“Ah!” Krel sighed. “Oh, but I'm sure we can make it work.”

“You three, go ahead. Varvatos Vex will hold him off.”

“We came all this way, we're not leaving without you,” Aja said.

“Alpha killed Varvatos' family. Varvatos must end this.”

“Now give Alpha a glorious death,” Aja encouraged, running off.

You made it to the ship and helped Aja up.

“Is no one gonna back up Vex?” Stuart asked.

Aja shook her head. “The Zerons killed Vex's family. This is his fight.”

You hopped into the ship to help get it ready, just in case you had to make a hasty getaway.

You heard shouting outside.

“Do you think he's winning?” Stuart asked. You heard something hit the ship. “It sounds like he's winning.”

The lights outside the ship turned off and you heard Varvatos grunt.

“Any idea what's going on out there?” Aja asked, concerned for her friend.

“Still too dark to see,” Krel said.

It got quiet. “I’m going out there,” Aja said.

“Me too,” Krel agreed.

“Here,” you cast a spell that lit up the hanger. Aja nodded to you and left.

Eventually they came back and you smiled at them. “Who’s ready for the up to thirty hour journey home?” You asked, sarcastically excited.

~~~~

You watched the window as earth steadily got closer. While space was fun, you really missed earth.

“Varvatos must admit, he is looking forward to returning home. If you were to grant him that honor, despite his own failings.”

“Hey, we've all made mistakes and we've all lost people that meant the world to us,” Krel consoled.

“But the three of us are a family,” Aja said and you smiled, it was sweet seeing them happy. You were glad you could help.

Stuart cleared his throat and you all chuckled. “And Stuart,” Aja added.

“And Varvatos will not fail his family again.”

You watched as Stuart pulled you closer to Arcadia and you were excited to see your home. That excitement suddenly disappeared when someone shot at you.

“Somebody is shooting at us!” Varvatos yelled.

“But who?” Stuart asked.

“Maybe it’s the government lady,” you suggested, falling as Stuart did his best to make a crash landing.

You coughed as the door opened and Stuart fell out. “Uncle! Uncle! We come in peace. Ah! Ouch.”

“I thought you were an enemy ship! I could have killed you!” An Acaridian who you believed was Zadra said.

“Well, you... you definitely tried,” Stuart pouted.

Aja cleared her throat and Zadra came over to her.

“What? You said you were at a sleepover,” Zadra said.

Aja laughed sheepishly. “I am sorry. I feel bad about that.”

“You have no idea how much I worried! I nearly took up knitting!” Zadra said and you laughed.

“Such is the pain of raising teen-agers,” Varvatos said as he came out of the ship.

Zadra narrowed her eyes at Varvatos. “I didn't ask for your opinion, nor did I authorize the rescue of a traitor.”

“He's family. We had to rescue him,” Aja protested.

“We will discuss your actions later. For now, I fear a far greater battle lies ahead,” Zadra said ominously. You heard your phone beep from your pocket and you checked the message.

You sighed. “As much as I’d love to stay and hear about this great battle, I’ve got to get going. Thanks for bringing me along.”

“Any time Y/n,” Stuart said.

“Thank you for assisting,” Varvatos said.

You smiled and turned to Aja and Krel. “If you need anything just call me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/n,” Aja said, hugging you.

“Of course. Just send me a text if you need to. I’ll be visiting my brother Jim in New Jersey next week, but I’ll still be available to talk.”

“Bye Y/n, thank you!” Krel called as you walked away. You turned and waved at them before settling in for the long walk in the heat to the bookstore. You were glad Douxie had air conditioning.

~~~~

“Where’s my darling?” You asked, walking into the book shop.

“Up here!” Douxie called and you followed his voice to his living room. Mao was curled up with Archie next to Douxie.

“Aww, see you had nothing to worry about,” you said, gesturing to the adorable kitten sleeping peacefully.

“At first she was a little hesitant, but she warmed up to him,” Archie said.

“Of course she did, I never had any doubts.” You took a seat next to Archie and leaned back into the couch. It was pretty comfy and his home was so cold.

"So, what was the errand that called you out in the middle of the night?" Douxie asked.

"I went to the moon," you said excitedly. "I made friends with these nice kids who are from a planet far from here. They needed to rescue their friend from a bounty hunter's hide out on the moon. It's a long story."

Douxie chuckled. "Huh, who knew."

"Arcadia has a lot to offer." You smiled brightly, it warmed your heart that Douxie didn't even hesitate to believe you. You had really fallen for him. He was just so great.

~~~~

The two of you continued chatting for quite a while longer until you grew tired.

The past few days had been very eventful for you and it has been over a month since the eternal night so you were out of routine. Not only had that made you tired, it was the crying babies who currently at your household. You adored them, but you where definitely much more tired than normal.

Archie and Mao cuddled up close to you and Douche brought you a blanket and pillow. He understood what it was like to be exhausted and he wanted to do his best to help you feel better. Unbeknownst to you he really cared for you. He really liked you.

****

Thank you all for reading, I really appreciate all of you and I hope you have fantastic weekends and stay safe! Next half chapter will be you visiting Jim in New Jersey, so stay tuned for that next week!! 💕

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

P.P.S. I'm totally open for requests on fluffy half chapters! If you have any ideas for the half chapters send them in and I'll do my best to include them.

[amanda-teaches]

The Piers of Brooklyn

Marvel Fanfic

Summary: After moving in with the Avengers, Bucky finds himself struggling to let go of his past and find himself again. What he needs is a little help to remind him that he’s home.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2144

Warnings: A lot of emotions, self-doubt and a glimpse of PTSD from Bucky, bittersweet fluff. This is canon-divergent where Bucky joins the group right after CATWS instead of going on the run.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for Marvel, and I’m really excited about it. It was written for one of my favorite people, @pinknerdpanda​, and her Birthday Challenge. This story was inspired by the song Beyond by Leon Bridges, and the lyrics are interspersed within. It was also written from a request for my 2k challenge from my beautiful friend, @hannahindie​, who was amazing enough to read this over for me. I was a little nervous writing for a new character and a new fandom, so any feedback you have would be greatly appreciated. 

When Bucky first moved into the tower, he did everything he could to adjust, to put his past behind him, become just another member of the team.

He attended the parties, trained with the others, smiled through the group dinners. But, there was always something missing. No matter how hard he tried, a part of him always had his guard up, keeping him separate, walled off from the others. He didn’t know if it was to protect himself from everyone else, or to protect them from him.

Steve was his usual puppy dog self, assuring him that everyone had moved past what he’d done, that they knew it was the programming, not him. His therapist said the same thing, that it wasn’t him, he was powerless to stop it, but every time he looked in Stark’s eyes, he saw his parents. Every time Natasha handed him a cup of coffee or he ran with Sam, he re-lived all of his sins, everything he’d done to hurt them and so many others.

Steve could say that they’d forgiven him all he wanted, but the truth of it all was that Bucky hadn’t forgiven himself. How could he ever expect anyone else to?

So, he moved through his days on autopilot, a part of him always struggling to rediscover that piece of him he’d lost when he fell into that river all those years ago. He saw glimpses of it when he was around Steve, but it felt like seeing someone above water when you were drowning. Blurry and unreachable. It wasn’t until he met you that he felt like he could finally start swimming to the surface.

You moved into the tower a few months after Bucky, having been stationed in D.C. before that. You’d fought against HYDRA during the Battle at the Triskelion, working closely with Steve, Natasha, and Sam, but you’d never actually crossed paths with Bucky. When the fight was over, and Steve had brought Bucky back to New York for rehabilitation, you’d stayed behind in D.C. to deal with the fallout.

With S.H.I.E.L.D essentially disbanded, you found yourself out of a job, so Steve invited you to join the Avengers in their missions to combat the ever-present threat of HYDRA. You’d accepted, packing up your things and making the move up the coast to Manhattan.

You’d settled in easily at the tower, proving yourself a valuable asset on missions and becoming fast friends with the others in the downtime. But, what Bucky found the most interesting was how you’d reacted to him. All of the others, though polite, had initially been distant with him, slow to trust until he could show the Winter Soldier wasn’t who he was anymore. But, you were the exact opposite.

You’d gravitated towards him. The second you moved in, you’d made it a point to invite him to work out with you and include him in activities, both inside and outside the tower. Every movie night, you sat next to him. Every trip to the zoo, you dragged him with you. He knew you were trying to help him heal, get him to find the joy in the normalcy of life, but you never forced him. You were just right by his side, holding his hand the entire way.

It was his lifeline. You were his lifeline. And, he knew, no matter how strong everyone thought he was, one of the biggest reasons he was healing was you.

For months, the two of you continued this way, falling into a comfortable pattern between missions. But, every Saturday, Bucky would break the pattern, going off on his own for a few hours and leaving you behind.

He knew it drove you crazy. When this started, you’d ask what he was doing when he returned at night, but he never told you. He couldn’t tell you.

Eventually, you stopped asking, assuming it was something too personal, a wall he wasn’t ready to let down yet. But, you never stopped wondering where he disappeared to every Saturday. And, he knew it. It was the part of himself he held back, and he vowed that, someday, he’d find the courage to show it to you.

Don't wanna get ahead of myself

Feeling things I've never felt

It's kinda hard for me to explain

Her personality and everything

Brings me to my knees, oh

She shines me up like gold on my arm

Do you think I'm being foolish if I don't rush in?

It was a rainy February Saturday when Bucky finally, fully, let you in.

Most of the Avengers were occupied for the day, either out or working in different parts of the tower. You knew today was Bucky’s day to disappear for the afternoon, so you popped some popcorn and set yourself up in front of Tony’s wide-screen movie-theater-worthy tv. You’d just picked up the remote to dig in when Bucky appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the wooden frame.

“Hey!” you said, almost dropping your popcorn in surprise. “What’re you still doing here? I thought you’d left already.”

“Yeah, I was on my way.” He shot you a lop-sided grin, locks of his hair falling into his face. “I was wondering, maybe, you know if you weren’t busy, if you’d possibly want to come with me today.”

A rush of excitement flowed through you. You knew how important this alone time was to him and what it must have taken for him to ask you, so you knew how big of a deal this was. Plus, he looked so damn nervous, you couldn’t help but smile. “I thought no one was allowed to come with you, not even Steve.”

His grin wided, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re my one exception. You comin’ or not?”

You laughed at his teasing bravado, but you jumped up immediately, following him to the garage.

You both decided to take Bucky’s bike, and, with your arms wrapped securely around his waist and your cheek pressed against his back, the two of you zoomed in and out of the New York traffic. At some point, the traffic began to thin out and Bucky began to slow, but you weren’t quite sure where you were.

He drew to a stop by a wide stretch of grass, and you could see the water beyond the trees, but not much else. “Where are we?”

He grabbed the helmet from you, placing it on the bike beside his, and smiled softly. “Brooklyn.”

You expected more of an explanation, but Bucky just turned, starting to stride across the grass without saying anything more, not even waiting for you to follow him. 

Damn, was he frustrating.

You sighed and hurried after him, trying to take stock of your surroundings as you worked to keep up. Bucky was a super soldier, so about three of your steps equaled one of his, but he slowed when you neared him, giving you an opportunity to look around.

The grassy area was ending, opening up to the expansive view of New York Harbor in front of you. A pier stretched out to your right, and Bucky made a beeline for it, with you following. You could see the Statue of Liberty in the distance, with the Manhattan skyline and the East River beyond it.

The pier was relatively short, with wavy, black curves painted on the concrete and old-fashioned street lamps punctuating the railing. They turned on while you walked, signalling that night was approaching.

Bucky didn’t stop until he reached the end of the pier, sitting down at a bench by the edge, like you assumed he’d done dozens of times before. You waited a beat before joining him, sitting silently down by his side.

“This is Valentino pier,” he explained softly, breaking the silence. “Back when Steve and I were growing up here, it was called Red Hook. We’d sneak down here sometimes to mess around, watch the boats out in the harbor.” His voice dropped, an edge of sadness underlying it. “It looked a lot different back then.”

Realization hit you, and your heart ached for what he must have felt coming back here, reconciling his memories with how the world had changed. You knew he’d grown up in Brooklyn with Steve, but you’d never thought about the when. When he left here, it was 70 years ago for you, but almost yesterday for him.

“When Steve first brought me back,” he continued, his face remaining expressionless to mask the emotion you could hear in his voice, “it took me a while to come back here. But, my therapist thought it would be good, cathartic or something, so eventually, I worked up the nerve. My old neighborhood had almost completely changed. It felt familiar, but different somehow, like I didn’t really belong anymore.”

You didn’t say anything, just reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it in your lap.

“The first time I came, I just wandered the streets for hours, trying to find something that felt like home. There were things I recognized, but nothing felt quite right, not ‘til I found this. It’s funny, because this whole park wasn’t even here when I was, but this view...” He gestured in front of him, motioning at the sunset that was brewing over the Harbor. “This felt like home. Coming here, I finally started to feel like me again.”

He looked over at you, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. “You know, I came here right before I shipped out.” He gulped, his eyes darkening. “That last night.”

You squeezed his hand gently, wishing you could take some of this weight on for him. “I thought you went to the Stark Expo?”

“I did,” he nodded. “But, the next morning, before sunrise, I came here, to the harbor. I watched the docks awaken, the ships begin to sail out as the sun rose over the horizon, breathing in the Brooklyn air one last time before I reported.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I think I knew then I wasn’t coming home.”

You placed your free hand on his cheek, pulling his attention away from the dropping sun and over to you. “Bucky, you did come home. You survived. This sunset? This air? It’s the same you felt in 1943. You’re home, Buck.”

The relief on his face was soft, almost unrecognizable, but it was there. You let out a breath at the sight, unaware that a part of you had been holding that breath for months, waiting for this exact moment.

Looking away from him and out towards the water, you kept his hands in yours, the two of you sitting in silence as the sun sank down into the harbor in the distance, the dusk settling into a still darkness.

He began to rub his thumb across the inside of your palm, and you smiled, turning back to study his profile. His face hadn’t changed, but it looked lighter somehow, more relaxed than you’d ever seen. You didn’t know if that was from the view or…

“Buck, why did you ask me to come with you today? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did, but this place seems very personal to you, and I’m just…”

His eyes snapped over to meet yours, the shifting blues churning as they scanned yours. “Just what?”

Your eyes dropped to his lips for the barest of seconds before jumping back to his eyes. “A colleague.”

Bucky’s entire face softened, and he pulled his hand from yours, resting it on your thigh. “You think that’s all you are? Jesus, Y/N…” He lifted his other hand, running it slowly through your hair. “You’re so much more than that.”

Everything in you soared at his words, and you ached to lean in and kiss him senseless, but you held back. He’d let you in, but you knew he was still fragile. He wasn’t ready for that, at least not yet.

“You’re more than that to me too, Buck,” you whispered, and his whole face lit up. For the first time since you knew him, he surprised you by pulling you into a hug, his strength and warmth enveloping you. He rested your head on his shoulder and gripped you tightly to him, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

But, you weren’t going anywhere. No matter how long it took, or what demons he had to fight, you were with him, for the long haul. “Come on, Buck,” you whispered, shifting back to look him in the eye. “Let’s go home.”

Do you think I'm being foolish if I don't rush in?

I'm scared to death that she might be it

That the love is real, that the shoe might fit

She might just be my everything and beyond

Thank you so much for reading!!! Since I’m new to the Marvel fandom, I wasn’t quite sure who to tag for this. I’m tagging the people who expressed interest, but if you would me to tag you in future Marvel fics, please send me an ask! My Marvel tags will be separate from my Supernatural tags.

Also, if you enjoyed this, I would really appreciate if you could please reblog, because I would love to reach as many people as I can. THANK YOU!

@pinknerdpanda @hannahindie​ @emoryhemsworth​ @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too​ @im-a-light-child​ @clarinette07​ @mysterious-398​  

[lo-55]

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 11

Forget putting a bell on Maul, Maul was going to put a leash on Kenobi. 

The foolish boy had made the executive decision to leave before dawn with no more than a note.  

Maul handed the piece of flimsi to Jango, his jaw set tight. 

Dear Mr. Fett and Maul, 

I went back to the Agri-Corps dome to get another look at the secret room in case I saw something I missed before that might help Master Jinn. I will return with lunch around midday planet time. Thank you for last night, and I apologize for the inconvenience. 

Sincerely, Jedi Initiate Obi Wan Kenobi

Jango didn’t look any happier to see the note than Maul felt. He knew Kenobi was impulsive and foolish but this was truly ridiculous. 

How was it possible that this was the same man who had consistently beaten Maul through his lifetime? 

Maul paused. 

Well. Kenobi had charged a Sith head on after his vaunted master had fallen to his hand. He’d taken only a single other Jedi to confront that same Sith when he had back up. He’d left the Jedi with no help at all to try to rescue Satine. Maul had seen him fight on full battlefields and loose his lightsaber. And, he was also the one who had raised Skywalker and Tano. 

What was that saying about Neti falling from their branches? 

Maul realized with no small degree of horror that Kenobi had mellowed with age, and this one was twice as rash as the one he’d known. 

Well fuck. 

Maul had been busy in his room in the morning after breakfast, and Jango had been off talking to someone on a private comm that he wasn’t allowed to eavesdrop on, and in the middle of all that Kenobi had just. Vanished. 

“I should have kept a better eye on him,” Maul scowled at the flimsi, quietly willing it to light on fire. He’d never gotten the hang of spontaneous combustion, and it didn’t work now either. 

Jango shot him an unimpressed look over the edge of the parchment. It was small, hotel issued. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re younger than him,” Jango said patiently, “so if anything he should have been watching you.” 

He didn’t even bother with Maul’s bristling pride this time. Jango wouldn’t snap at him, of that Maul was certain, but he was clearly irritated by Kenobi’s lack of forethought. 

It didn’t help that a moment later the door swung open and Clat’Ha strode in, her eyes white around the edges, with Jinn in tow. 

Maul blinked at the white bandages plastered to the normally dignified Jedi’s nose. Was Jinn getting in bar fights now? At this point it wouldn’t surprise Maul. 

“What-” 

Jango was cut off by Clat’Ha, who had gone pale. 

“It’s Obi Wan. He’s gone missing.” 

Maul’s blood went cold. His face blanched to grey-pink. “What?” 

Missing? Truly missing? 

Maul’s mind went to Xanatos. He was the only other threat they had encountered on this journey. Well, the only one that still lived. The draigons were gone, the pirates were space dust, only the washed out Padawan was left. 

“He went to the AgriCorps dome this morning,” Jango said, showing them the note. Jinn’s mouth thinned into a line and his brows pinched together. 

“Si Treemba said he saw him there, but he vanished. They heard shouting and fighting near the annex they found the other day, but when they got there Obi Wan was gone,” Clat’Ha shook her head mournfully. 

“We have to find him,” Jango spoke for all of them. 

Jinn held up his hand. 

“We must be patient,” he counselled, and Maul knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted to strike the Jedi in the face. “If we rush in with haste, we run the risk of putting him in further danger.” 

“Funny to hear that from the Jedi,” Jango snapped. 

Jinn narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect a man like yourself to understand the subtleties of bidding ones time and gathering information-”

“It’s hard to gather information when you hoard cards to your chest like a hutt on a losing streak-” 

“If you needed to know I would tell you-”

“Like you told Obi Wan? Listen you-” 

“Enough!” Clat’Ha snapped, stepping between the bickering men. It was enough to get them to cut it out, at least momentarily. “Arguing helps no one, now shut up. Our first priority needs to be looking for Obi Wan. I’m going out to the dome to see if I can find any leads. And you two are not going to go after eachother the second I’m gone, got it?” 

She looked pointedly from one man to the other, until both were bowed to her will. 

Maul would have been impressed in any other situation. 

“Kenobi isn’t dead,” Maul said with certainty. All three looked at him, startled. Maul met their eyes defiantly. “He’s not weak enough as to roll over and die just like that.”

“...The kids right,” Clat’Ha’s shoulders relaxed and she slowly eased into a smile. “We’ll find him. I’m off, I’ll comm you if I find anything new.” 

“I’m going to go to the dockmaster,” Jango said finally. “I’ll find out if there’s a ship that’s left Bandomeer that might have him on it. Maul, you should come with me. It’ll be dangerous.” 

Maul shook his head. “I’ll find you later. I wanna check on a rumor I heard first.” 

Jango eyed him suspiciously, but Maul had proven himself resourceful and dangerous. Reluctantly, the Mandalorian agreed. 

“Just keep your head down, okay? I’ll be very upset if I don’t get the chance to adopt you properly.” 

Maul kicked his boot. “Cut the sentimental Banthashit,” he scolded. “You’re supposed to be a Mandalorian, a fearsome warrior!” 

“And there’s nothing Mandalorian’s value more than our ade, Maul’ika. Children are our future, and you are mine.” Jango patted his head lightly, minding his horns. “Meet back here tonight, or I’m coming to find you.” 

Maul rolled his eyes. As it he hadn’t noticed the tracer Jango had slipped into his poncho pocket. He would leave it be for now. If he went somewhere he didn’t want Jango following he would take it out and attach it a tooka for Jango to follow after. 

For the time being, he left the apartments and headed to the Offworld admin building in Bando. 

It wasn’t hard to sneak in through the vents. It was one of the only good things about being this small again, was how easy it was to slide through buildings and ships. He had to carefully rerout a few cleaning droids, but besides that he didn’t have any trouble finding Xanatos’ office. He did, however, notice that the door was hidden behind the same opaque wall that Kenobi had found in the dome. 

Certainly Xanatos’ work. 

Maul briefly considered kicking out the grate and ripping Kenobi’s location from Xanatos’ screaming throat, but the building was situated between an actual mine and a smelting facility. There would be guards, miners, and a hundred other workers in the building, and if it went into lock down Maul had seen laser grid generators in the vents on his way in. He didn’t fancy fighting an army of disgruntled Offworlders or getting cut in half again, thank you. 

There was always window, he supposed… 

But Maul was patient. He had to be. 

He hated it. 

It went against his very nature. Still, he was rather good at lying in wait. 

He watched Xanatos work. It was hard to see from this angle, but in the reflection of the window Maul caught his fingers moving, and the input of codes. He watched the pattern that formed. The computer showed only a code, and while Maul didn’t have the key he had enough to work it out. 

He even got the password. 

Crion. 

When Xanatos made for the door Maul carefully lifted a familiar lightsaber off of his hip and set it gently aside. As soon as Xanatos left Maul slowly eased his way out of his hiding place. He grabbed the lightsaber, one he had once thrown into the plasma generators in Theed, and searched Xanatos’ correspondences for any mention of Obi Wan in his little code. He found a few, but they were vague and brief. 

It told Maul just enough to know that Obi Wan was alive, and had been sent a mine in the seas. 

Maul copied as many files as he could and saved them a data stick in the desk drawer before he made off for the vents and the outside world. 

By then it was nearing dark. The miners had traded shifts, and the office workers had gone home. 

Maul was sneaking around the side of the building when he heard something very interesting. 

Jinn. 

The master was sneaking around the shadows like a common thief. Like Sith. Maul nearly laughed. The Jedi hypocrisy would never cease to amaze him.  

"If you have plans for Bandomeer, you should know I am here to stop you," he said, his voice low but full of Force. It really was his intention to put a stop to his former Padawan’s ploy here. 

Xanatos flung one side of his cloak behind him dramatically, and Maul could see the lines of lineage. Kenobi had a habit of stripping himself of his own cloaks, as did Tano. His hand rested casually on the hilt of a lightsaber. A familiar lightsaber. 

Xanatos patted the lightsaber. "Yes, I still have it. After all, I trained for all those years. Why should I give it up like a thief, when I deserve to carry it?"

Maul was beginning to think he was going to have to write down when he knew about Jedi traditions and cross check it. He had been raised to kill them, which meant he needed to learn how they fought and how their sentimentality made them weak. 

He didn’t know there were rules about keeping lightsabers after leaving an order. 

To be fair, a sith never would have been given the chance. 

"Because you deserve it no longer," Jinn answered. "You shame it."

A flush spread over Xanatos' face. Jinn’s comment had hit him. Xanatos still cared what Jinn thought of him. 

Good. 

Maul could use that. 

He was stiff, and angry, then he relaxed, smiling. Maul tracked his emotions carefully. Weaknesses. Everyone had weaknesses. 

"I see you are still a hard man, Qui-Gon. Once that bothered me. Now it amuses me." Xanatos began to circle around him. "We were friends at the end, more than Master and apprentice."

"Yes," Jinn said, taking careful steps to keep up with Xanatos. Maul tensed when he turned so he could have seen him if he were looking. He didn’t. 

 "We were."

"All the more reason for you to betray me. To you, friendship is nothing. You enjoyed my suffering."

"The betrayal was yours. As was the enjoyment of suffering. That is what you discovered on Telos. Yoda had already seen it. And that is why he knew you would fail."

"Yoda!" Xanatos spat the word. "That knee-high troll! He thinks he has power. He hasn't dreamed of a tenth of the power I know!"

"You know?" Qui-Gon asked mildly. "How do you know such power, Xanatos? A mid-level manager of a corporation, sent to do the board's bidding?"

"I do no one's bidding but my own."

"Is that why you're here? Is Bandomeer a test of your abilities?" 

"I don't take tests," Xanatos snapped. "I make the rules. Bandomeer is mine. All I have to do is reach out my hand and take it."

He circled closer, his cloak swirling and brushing against Jinn. He was a viper waiting to strike, but his fangs weren’t out. Maul knew Xanatos’ words. He had heard the same himself. 

A Sith does not wait for opportunity. He makes opportunity, and then he reaches out and takes what is rightfully his! 

The lesson, like many, was accompanied by pain. Maul had limped for a week afterwards, but only where Sidious could not see it. 

Power. What did this wash out know of power? He hadn’t even made it to Jedi Knight. 

"It's a tiny planet. Galactically insignificant. Yet it pours forth wealth into my hands. If you would only lose the tiresome rules of the Jedi, it would do the same for you. But no, Qui-Gon is too good. He is not tempted. He is never tempted."

"Bandomeer is not yours to own! You were always overconfident. You have gone too far

this time."

"No." Xanatos drew his lightsaber. "Now I have gone too far."

Maul cocked his head. He could feel the Darkside swirling around him, brushing his skin, searching for its place inside him. His body was too small to house much of it yet, but it was not he who called it, merely he who had a true hold of it. He who was its child. 

“Those who accept the power of the dark side must also accept the challenge of holding on to it.” Maul startled. He didn’t recognize the voice of his memories. “By its very nature the dark side invites rivalry and strife. This is the greatest strength of the Sith: it culls the weak from our order. Yet this rivalry can also be our greatest weakness.”

Xanatos laughed again, breaking Maul away from his thoughts and the voice. 

"You destroyed everything I loved," he accused, his lightsaber barely missing Jinn’s shoulder, so close it singed the fabric of his tunic. "You destroyed me that day, Qui-Gon. Yet I was reborn. Stronger, wiser. I have surpassed you."

Maul snorted, and started to leave. He decided he didn’t care about the rest of the fight. He needed to find Kenobi and he actually had a lead. He would come back and finish cleaning up Xanatos’ mess later. 

Kill him, maybe. Offer Kenobi his head for recompense. 

Well. 

Maybe not that exactly. Kenobi could be squeamish, 

"And where is your new apprentice?" Xanatos sneered.

Maul didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it. He knew the answers already. A deep sea mine. There were only a few close enough to the shore for a control freak like Xanatos to send Obi Wa- Kenobi to. 

Maul did stop long enough to send the information to Jango. He figured he might like to know where he was going, and where Xanatos and Jinn currently were duking it out. 

Meanwhile Maul found a small transport to take him out to see. He knocked the owner out cold, stashed his body, and stole the ship. He kept it low to the waves. In the darkness of the night any guards would be hard pressed to see him approach. 

He wasn’t met with blasterfire when he stopped the transport underneath one of the high legs of the rig. Maul secured it and spidered up the sides until he was sneaking on board. His come flashed with an incoming message from Jango, one that he soundly ignored. 

When he reached the top of his rig Maul pulled out his (finally finished) weapon. 

Maul held what looked like a S-195 blaster pistol, with slightly longer than average barrels. 

They made a perfectly functional blaster, with only slightly weaker bolts than a regular one would have. 

Maul was still working on that.  

It would work for this. 

Carefully, he snuck into the mine. 

 He had to ride on top of the turbolift, out of sight of the hulking, but stupid guards. They would be easy to mind trick, but tricks only lasted so long and he had seen slave collars like the ones on the sentients he passed. Those would be rigged with explosives. He rather liked Kenobi with his head on his shoulders, thank you. 

Once he was further down he could feel it. 

Kenobi’s light. 

Something was keeping it dim, but still there. A suppressant? 

Xanatos was really getting annoying. Maul was killing him when they got back to the mainland. 

If Jango didn’t beat him to it. 

Maul should have answered him comm so he could call dibs. 

Too late now. 

He hopped off the turbolift when he reached the floor where Kenobi’s presence was the strongest. It was till a phantom thing compared to what it had been before, nevermind what it would be. 

Maul kept his hood drawn firmly and made his way further inside. 

Deep in the undersea caves the slaves were kept in bunks. There were no bars to keep them in place, for their collars and their emaciated state did that just fine by itself. Maul could tell at a glance that most of them were half starved, or more, and beaten on the regular. 

The collars around their throats stood out over standard, tattered jumpsuits. The guards were lax beings, and with a simple command the two playing dice outside the bunks fell asleep. 

Maul picked his way through the slaves. 

It reeked of unwashed beings, blood, and sickness. 

Maul found his way to Obi- Kenobi, who was resting uneasily beside a spindly limbed being. Phindian. Weak joints, and a particularly pronounced jugular. Maul considered fourteen ways to kill him before he turned to his target. 

Maul tapped Kenobi lightly on the shoulder with his boot, startling the little Jedi awake. Maul touched his mind lightly, minding the darkness inside of him and keeping it careful. Just enough that Kenobi recognized him in his frightened, sleep addled state. 

Blue eyes stared up at him, Kenobi’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

“Maul?” he asked quietly. Hope trembled in his voice and Maul’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. 

People weren’t supposed to feel hope around him. They were supposed to fear him! Maul scowled down at him and tossed his lightsaber at Kenobi’s gaping face. 

Kenobi caught it on reflex alone, the weapon calling to him. It had felt utterly wrong in Maul’s calloused hands, his anger not mixing with the righteous light and the burning hope that lived inside Kenobi’s crystal. 

Kenobi cradled it to his chest. 

“This weapon is my life…” he whispered, a sentiment that was shared between Jedi and Sith alike. 

“Then you can owe me twice,” Maul said derisively. “Let’s go. “

“I can’t!” Kenobi touched his collar. It was buzzing faintly with electricity. Maul scowled. 

“Can’t you use the Force to turn it off?” Maul asked irritably. 

Kenobi shook his head miserably. He was a sorry sight, his clothes tattered and, now that Maul was close enough to see, his back burned with familiar marks of electric whips. 

Maul had a veritable tapestry of those same scars across his own back. 

“They’ve cut me off. I can barely feel it anymore,” Kenobi’s voice cracked.  

Maul winced in unwanted sympathy. He knew the feeling well. It was one of his masters favorite punishments. 

Maul knelt before Kenobi and reached for his throat. The little Jedi twitched but didn’t fight against him. He tilted his chin to give Maul better access. 

The metal was sturdy, it would be hard to cut through without killing Kenobi along with it, and the electric charge was near to the tiny explosive. Not small enough to blow through a wall, but it would do plenty of damage to soft human skin. 

It would be easy to turn it off. Getting it off was another matter. 

Not to mention the rest of the slaves that lay around them. 

Maul looked down to find the phindian watching him through slitted eyes. 

“...You’re not going to let me leave the rest of them here, are you?” Maul asked, exasperated. 

Kenobi startled. “What?” 

Maul pulled his hands away and stood up to brush off his cloak. 

“Show me where they keep the spare parts for the equipment,” Maul ordered shortly. Kenobi frowned. 

“I don’t know where those are.” 

Maul gave him an unimpressed look. “Haven’t you ever escaped from a prison before?” 

Kenobi frowned at him. “Why would I have had to do that?” 

“... Jedi really don’t teach anything useful, do they?” 

“Hey!” 

“Obawan,” the phindian finally gave up his ruse and sat up. “Your friend will free us.” 

Maul quirked a brow. 

“Not so!” The phindian waved his long arms. “He will cause us trouble.” 

“I’ll definitely cause you trouble if you don’t quiet down. Who knows here where the spare parts are kept?” Maul demanded shortly. He pulled his hand back to reveal the blaster holstered at his side. The phindian paled and Kenobi smacked Maul on the leg. 

“Don’t threaten him! He’s my friend, Guerra!” 

Maul rolled his eyes. “Then he should be helping. I won’t ask again.” 

The phindian, Guerra, stood up reluctantly. He looked dead in the eyes. Yet, in the furthest depth, there was hope. 

Maul bit back the urge to stomp it out. He needed this being’s help, for the time. 

Guerra looked to the sleeping guards warily. Maul rolled his eyes. “They aren’t waking up soon. Get going.” 

Other slaves stirred around them. Eyes watched them through hooded darkness. Maul breathed in the despair and fortified himself. It was going to be a long night. 

Guerra lead him into the tunnels, down the hall to locked room of spare parts. It took Maul less than a minute to pick the locks. They were old school and not very advance to begin with. 

Once inside he found a power pack for one of the big drills they used in lower levels, a wire coil, and disemboweled the locking mechanism for the doors. The circuit boards were kept carefully intact while he fetched a small tool box, conveniently equipped with a soldering iron, and set to work.He attached his wire coil to the capacitor for the door, and connected that to the big battery. While he was at it he found a heavy magnetic coupling splitter. He wished for Daleen. She’d already have the whole place turned on its head electronically. 

With his girls, and his brothers, Maul could have done anything. 

He would get to them soon enough. 

“What are you doing?” Guerra asked nervously. “This is fun! Not so. I do not trust your friend, Obawan.” 

“I’m making an EMP generator,” Maul said shortly. 

Kenobi’s face split into a startled, hopeful smile. “You can do that? Where did you learn? Did Jango teach you?” 

“Hmm? No. Now hold still. The collar’s going to tingle and then all the lights will go out. Stay close to me. Humans have terrible vision.” 

“Hey!” 

Maul ignored Kenobi’s indignation and pushed the ‘lock’ button. The door fizzled, the battering flickered faintly with electricity, and everything went dark. 

Maul relished it. 

“Let’s go get your friends, Kenobi.”

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

Obi Wan stayed close to Maul as they prowled through the darkness. 

He couldn’t understand how he could see so well, his gold eyes glowing faintly in the darkness like embers to an unseen fire. Maul was one mystery after another. 

Obi Wan had thought him to be a Mandalorian, like Jango, but he wore no armor and he didn’t speak with the same accent. He fought viciously and without mercy when it was needed. Kenobi could not forget the grim comfort he had taken during their fight with the draigon’s to have someone as skilled and determined at Maul at his back while they battled off their death. His every shot was perfect. 

Even before that, he’d felled two hutts in the span of a breath. 

Maul was unlike anyone Obi Wan had ever met before. 

Admittedly, he had mostly met Jedi. Obi Wan had never been out of the temple, and it showed sometimes now. In the temple he had never been hungry. In the temple he had never hurt so badly for so long. 

Obi Wan swallowed those thoughts and followed Maul in the darkness. He could sense him through the Force, his presence dense and heavy. There was a gravity to Maul, in his sharp teeth and gleaming gaze. His ferocity was frightening, but as Maul had said, he did not allow his anger to control him. 

He controlled it. 

Obi Wan could not say the same thing. 

It was his own temper that had resulted in him being sent away from the order, and his own impulsiveness that had lead him to leave behind the safety of Jango and Maul to investigate on his own. He just wanted so badly to impress Master Jinn he thought- 

They would have come with him, he realized now. 

Fett was a good man. Even if he was Mandalorian, and Obi Wan had only hear horror stories about them, he had held Obi Wan’s shoulder when he’d felt like he was drowning in his despair and spoke kindly to him when he didn’t have to. He offered to help with no chance of recompense. 

And here Maul was, guiding him through darkness. Saving him. 

Saving all of them. 

Shame welled up in Obi Wan’s chest. 

How could Obi Wan tell Maul that when he’d come to free him he’d been so relieved he barely thought of the other prisoners? He had thought only of the weight being lifted off himself, in the scant seconds before Maul brought up the idea of freeing everyone. How could he call himself a jedi when he was so self centered?

When he’d opened his eyes and found his friend looking down at him, half hidden in his familiar poncho, he’d been confused. But the Force whispered of Maul, of bright eyes and vicious determination, and he hadn’t been afraid for even a moment. 

Maul was comfortable, in the same way a nexu would be to those familiar with it. He was dangerous to be certain, but he’d never hurt Obi Wan. He’d only ever helped him, from the moment they had met on the Monument, when he’d been thrown into Mauls arms. 

Obi Wan grasped Maul’s poncho as he trailed after him. His other hand held his lightsaber. 

“If you throw up, I don’t have anything to clean your mouth with,” was the only warning Obi Wan got when they returned to the slave bunks. Maul pulled a knife from his boot, the movement something Obi Wan felt more than saw, and slit the guads throats. 

Obi Wan should have mourned their loss. Any good jedi would have. 

But his back stung, and Guerra’s haunted words whispered through his mind, and the pain of the miners and the death that permeated the air choked down any grief he would have for the slavers. Obi Wan was sickened to realize he would have killed them too if he could have. 

“The light, Little Jedi.” 

Obi Wan, somewhere between grief-sick and warm whenever Maul called his that, lifted his saber and ignited it. 

In the pale blue glow hallowed faces watched the three of them. 

“We’re leaving,” was all he said. 

“The collars,” started one slave, a human who had lost his eye fighting the other day. 

“They’re off,” Maul said shortly. “And if you’re that worried, here,” he held up something shaped vaguely like a wrench. Obi Wan stayed still when Maul reached for his collar again. The soft leather of his gloves ran across Obi Wan’s throat before the wrench found its way across a seam he hadn’t noticed. There was a click and the collar fell off in two pieces. 

Silence fell. Then, one by one, starting with Guerra, the rest of the slaves approached. Maul unlocked their collars. He set them all free. 

“What is your name?” One of them asked at last, their voice hoarse and rough. 

Obi Wan’s companion regarded him carefully. 

“...Maul,” he said at length. 

The word spread through the slaves in the whisper. Maul hunched his shoulders and shoved the wrench into a togruta’s hands. 

“It’s a magnet lock,” he said gruffly. “Fit it around the edges.” 

He stalked away, and was followed by the rest of the newly freed slaves. 

A young twi’lek women, one scarred across her face, stopped them. There were tears in her eyes. A single one fell from the left and she wiped it away before touching it to Maul’s cheek. Maul twitched away from her, his hand flying to his blaster, but he didn’t draw. 

“You have broken our chains,” she said quietly. “May water find you in the desert, and the sun find you in the snow.” 

Obi Wan didn’t understand, and the look on Maul’s shadowed face said that he didn’t either, but he inclined his head all the same. For someone who boiled with anger all the time he was remarkably patient. 

Obi Wan had never seen him take his temper out on someone who hadn’t wronged him first. 

They make their way through the darkness. More than once did Maul had Obi Wan extinguish his saber before guards rounded the corner. In the shadows he draw his knife and snuffed their lives out. He didn’t fire his blaster once. It would have made too much noise, and given away his position. 

Where had Maul come from, if Jango had not taught him these things? 

The finally reached the surface. The clear air of the night blanketed the newly freed sentients. 

There was no way to call for a ship to pick them up, but within an hour one came to investigate the silence from the mine. The Offworld insignia blazed on the side. 

Obi Wan helped Maul take the ship by force. Together he guarded Maul with his ‘saber while Maul blasted through their attackers. 

The climbed on boards. 

It was a good sized ship, and once they were further in Obi Wan understood why. 

The ship wasn’t just sent to investigate. It was sent to reinforce them. New slaves took up cages in the cargo hold, and across from them were exotic animals. There were monkey-lizards and glittering vulptex. He saw colorful kiros birds fluttering around one cage. Obi Wan found a tiny varactyl in a cage that squeaked at him when he came closer. It was no bigger than a tooka, and it payed through its cages, as if sensing safety from him. 

Obi Wan broke the lock and took out the little lizard to cradle in his palm. He turn to ask Maul when he thought and paused. 

Maul had stopped in front of a small crate where shadows moved within. 

It took Obi Wan a minute to realize that the shadows were three slim, young creatures that hummed with the Force. Tails lashed through the crate and tiny clawed paws lashed out. Maul growled, something low in the back of his throat. Obi Wan felt it then. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with anger, hurt, sorrow and grief. It swelled the room before reached a crescendo and falling again. 

The fighting from the animals was over. 

Maul opened the crate and three small vornskr, two males and female with a chopped ear and a crooked tail, went tumbling out. 

They circled Maul, rubbing their cheeks along his legs and chirping up at the startled looking boy. 

The moment was ruined when a human woman came back from the front of the ship. The togruta with the locking device followed after her.

“We’re going back to the mainland,” the human said. “You should buckled in.” 

“Thank you,” Obi Wan said with a short bow. 

She nodded once at him and left. 

Obi Wan looked Maul, who finally gave him a crooked, gap toothed grin. 

“Through victory our chains are broken,” he said, the words slow and solemn despite his smile. There was something familiar to them, and the Force hummed its agreement.

Maul had set him free.

[marvelmymarvel]

The Force Between Us

Ben Kenobi x SithLord!Reader

Synopsis: The sith life was the only one you knew about, or at least you thought it was. When you come face to face with the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, he opens up memories you forget you had.

Song: Billie Eilish - Bad Guy (PatrickReza Remix) (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Wb-oJ6WVy0) 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: I had this idea based off of this song and also because I’m going as a sith to make a red lightsaber at Disneyworld... Gifs are not mine btw. The first one I can’t find the original owner but the second one this beautiful person edited @kingsleigh​ (I saw your gif and just had to use it! Hope that was alright)

Italics are memories

The lightning flashed overhead, illuminating your haunted face as you stared down the Jedi below. You stood perched on top of your ship, red lightsaber glowing beside you as you chuckled darkly at the man’s reaction. 

They were always so flighty.

“Well hello there, Jedi” you sickly cooed as you jumped off the ship, the sound of your landing being enhanced with the sound of the thunder. “I have fought many sith lords before... But not one of them was a woman” he joked hoping to lighten the terrible anger in the air, but the comment only made it worse. “Oh really. Lucky you” you sang out sharply as you rolled your saber around in your hand causing it to woosh and hiss as the water struck it. “My comment wasn’t demeaning-”

“I’m a sith lord, not some princess” you snarled as you pointed the blade at him, taking note on how while he was holding his saber steady, you could sense the nervousness in the air. He didn’t want to fight you, only making you more offended at the thought of it. He didn’t respond to your comment, yet something in his face changed.

“You may not be a princess, but I would like to know your name before I begin” he stated shakily, he had an idea who you were and he wanted it to be false. “Y/n” you responded cooly before twirling the saber once more, bored at the conversation and simply wanting to get to the good stuff. The stuff you were trained to do. 

“My names-”

“Jedi Master Kenobi, I have heard of you and I’m not impressed” you teased as you moved your body to get into a fighting stance if he wasn’t going to start then you would. He opened his mouth to say something back but you took off towards him. Jumping up, you came down quickly with your blade raised high. He would block it, they always did. The crackling sound of your blades slamming with each other felt like music to your ears as you smiled darkly down at him. He was taller than you, but at this angle, you were in control. “You talk too much “ you scolded as he slammed back, finally snapping out of his daze. You balanced yourself and cocked your eyebrow at him, challenging him.

“Tell me” he started as he spun to block your swing, “How do you know me my dear” he grunted out as he swung back to you. His swings were easy for you to block, and they were intentional as he didn’t want to hurt you. However, your swings were full of anger and purpose, meaning you knew him in some other way. He already knew you didn’t remember him, but there was something else that was lingering in your e/c eyes that had a slight yellow glow. 

“Oh really?? You don’t realize what you’ve done to me?!” you screamed as you swung your blade at his side. He blocked it and locked eyes with you, the rage in your blood only making the yellow in your eyes glow brighter. “I’m done with this foolish game” you snarled before cupping your hand and ripping his lightsaber away with the force. It flew across the landing and laid in a puddle of rain, Ben didn’t have time to get it before you had slammed him to the wall. Your hand was shaking from both the amount of power you were using as well as the anger that was coursing through your veins. This man took everything from you, and he didn’t even realize it.

“You took him from me. My mentor, my master, MY EVERYTHING” you screamed as you closed your fist, choking Ben as he struggled to get out of your grip. He needed you to see. “You’re wrong” he grunted out as he gazed at you longingly, so much anger. 

This wasn’t you.

You let him go with a huff before swinging your lightsaber back around. “You killed my master, Darth Maul... And now, I will kill you” you growled out before stomping over to his collapsed form. Ben regained enough strength to draw his lightsaber to him just in time to block your final blow. As he looked up at you sadly, he saw confusion in your orbs.

You were always taught to never falter, but he was thankful you did. Standing up swiftly, he kicked your blade away before forcing you into a stance. Your eyes widened in shock and his fingertips slammed against your forehead. 

“Remember me”

His words and touch made your yellow eyes roll back as images passed through your mind. You fought the feeling of wanting to dive deep into these memories for a second, but soon you were sucked into them. Your head went limp and he supported it as he laid you down carefully on the wet ground. Your eyes danced behind your eyelids and the thunder roared louder as he tried to protect your body from the heavy rainfall. “Please work” he whispered to himself as he caressed your cheek softly, he wanted you back. This wasn’t you. You were no sith.

You were a Jedi.

“Ben come on stop chasing me!!” a little voice cried out as you turned your body towards it. Two children came running into the room and your eyes widened in fear that they would see you, but they didn’t. “What the hell” you whispered as you watched the boy catch up to the h/c girl. Her smile was bright and playful despite the threatening tone in her voice. 

“Come on Y/n, you have to get used to chases if you wanna be a Jedi” the boy teased as he pulled at the girl's braid. “Y/n???” you muttered out as you stepped closer to the pair. The little girl couldn’t have been more than 5 while the boy only 7, but the way the pair bickered reminded you of an old married couple. The ones that you would see on your missions to different planets. The ones that you regretted killing the most. You cocked your head at the bickering girl, something about her other than her name seemed familiar, but you didn’t know what. 

“What Ben, do you not believe a woman can be powerful!?” The little girl's question brought you out of your daze and your head snapped to the boy, mentally challenging him to say the wrong thing. “Of course not-”

“Ben Kenobi! Choose your next words wisely” the little girl snarled as her arms crossed in front of her while her little foot tapped impatiently. The boy only smiled at her, he was already proud of who she had become. You would have noticed his longing gaze if you weren't too busy freaking out at his name. “Kenobi” you whispered as the scene began to get wobbly in front of your eyes. “Hey WAIT!!! I wasn’t done with that-”

Your words were cut off by the scene now laid in front of you. The h/c child, now around the age of 10 was passed out in the arms of your master. The room was dark and the energy was different. Looking around the room, you saw the boy hiding behind a desk, shaking in fear. You sighed at his fear until you heard Maul talking to no one in particular, turning back to your late master, you gazed at the child in his arms. “She will remember her life as a Jedi in training... Her heart will not belong to the order of the Siths.” Your eyebrows crinkled before your eyes widened in the realization of who the child was. 

“That's me” you whispered as your lip trembled and you looked back to Ben as he watched with teary eyes. You felt his sadness and wondered how your late master didn’t feel him in the room as well. 

“Then we will erase her memories...” your blood ran cold as you turned back slowly. The Emperor emerged from the shadows causing you to subconsciously bow your head to him, the energy in the room changed and his energy masked the child’s. “She will be a child of the sith... The perfect specimen” 

Your head raised and your blood began to boil as you watched your smaller self cuddle deeper into the sith’s robes. You could sense hesitance in Maul, but he handed over the child all the same and you growled as your younger self was passed to the Emperor.

Palpatine's head snapped to you causing your breath to hitch. “I see you hiding in the shadows young one...” Your eyes widened as you turned slowly to Ben who was now standing in the shadows, ready to fight and get you back. “No Ben” you whispered out shakily as you stepped towards the young boy. “Give her back. She is no Sith scum” he growled back causing your heart to lurch into your throat. You knew he’d survive but he was pushing you to your limit. Palpatine's dark laugh echoed in the room, “My child... I suggest you stay in the dark and forget this happened” he growled out. It wasn’t a suggestion for the young boy...

It was a warning.

“I won't let you take her” Ben growled back as he got into his fighting stance. “Well, that's too bad, boy” Palpatine muttered before turning around “Because that’s what we are going to do.” Ben stepped forward but Palpatine stopped him in his tracks, causing the young boy to scream and cry in angst. “Come, Darth Maul...” Palpatine called out as he stopped at the door.

“We have a Sith Lord to create”

Your eyes snapped open as you took a large intake of breath. The thunder cracked overhead and you saw Ben, and older Ben, hovering above you. His blue eyes shone brightly as the lightning illuminated his features. His hair fell in thick strands and the rain that was being stopped by his body was now dripping down his locks onto your face. “Do you remember?” His voice was shaky, you had only been out for a minute but he was afraid that it wouldn’t work or worse, you wouldn’t care. 

“Ben” you whispered out as your yellow orbs faded back into their normal e/c. A smile formed on your face as you reached up to caress his cold, wet cheek. “They made me forget you” he nodded at your words before running his shaky fingers through your soaked tresses, loving the feeling of having you in his arms. “We searched for you for 25 years... We never stopped” he reassured as he sat you up and leaned you against his chest, trying his best to warm your shivering form. The embrace was delicate and now with your memories restored, you felt whole once more. 

“I can't go back” you whispered in the realization of all you have done as a sith lord, terrible and horrible things were done by your doing. Ben felt your sadness and pulled you in deeper, “You were never a sith, Y/n...” he cooed as he pressed his lips to your forehead. You held your breath before gripping onto his brown robe, anticipating the next words that were to come.

“You will always be a Jedi” 

He felt your body shake and realized that you were crying below him. He knew your transition would be hard and that you would have a difficult time believing you could be good once again... But he would be there for you. “How were you able to snap me out of it Ben?” you whimpered as you gazed up at him with a new feeling in your heart. One that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Love. 

He smiled down at you sheepishly before scratching his neck. He didn’t know how he was going to tell you that you were soulmates and that your force bond was strong enough to snap you out of it. But he knew that you needed to get to a warm place and fast. Standing up, he pulled you up with him and steadied you. He reached down and grabbed your lightsaber on the ground before putting his in its holder. 

“How about I tell you on the way to the Jedi Council?”

You nodded shakily at his statement but understood that you two needed to leave, not only because of the cold but because of your current situation. He helped you along to his x-wing but before he could help you get in, you stopped him and pressed your hands against his face. “Thanks for saving me, Jedi” you whispered out before pressing your lips hungrily against his, he kissed back with little hesitation and he knew he would definitely have to answer to the Jedi Council about kissing a sith lord... But for now, he enjoyed the feeling of having you once more in his arms.

Right, where you belonged.

[emperorsfoot]

abandoned Star Wars fic #1

This was an AU I started a while back (2014) based off the pre-Disney Buyout version of the Expanded universe. It’s basically just “what if Luke did join the Empire like he was discussing with Owen and Beru back in A New Hope?”

My original plan was for the fic to be a trilogy, following the same main events of the original trilogy. I abandoned it because I got discouraged (for the same reason I always get discouraged when writing fic for a fandom that’s been around since the dawn of time), because the Star Wars fandom is so big and there are so many amazingly talented writers in it that this AU has probably already been written, and probably written better than I could ever write it. 

So, I never even posted it. 

Until now... 

(Oh! Also, it was gonna be a Luke/Mara ship. All my Star Wars fics are Luke/Mara.)

...

[ImpPilot]

Chapter One:

"I'd like three quarters of my pay to go to this account, please. If I can do that." Luke asked. 

Even heading strait to the Fleet's financial office immediately after his graduation ceremony instead of going out to celebrate with his bunkmates, it still took an absurd two and a half hours before he could see an actual officer -nothing more than a glorified accountant, really. 

"You'll meed to fill out form 6-23-A." Without even looking up from his personal terminal, the financial officer passed Luke a data pad with the blank form already open on it. "You're not the first boy wanting to send money home to his silver-haired mommy. Be sure all the routing numbers are correct and specify whether or not its a savings or checking account, or if its a business account. For business accounts you'll need to fill out an additional form."

"Uh… I think its a domestic checking account…" Luke said. More thinking out loud than actually speaking to the officer. The moisture farm was, technically, a business, but he didn’t think Tattooine was sophisticated enough for business accounts. At least, not reputable ones. 

"There's a terminal in the lobby you can use if you need to call home and ask. Regular holo-net fees apply -which this office will not compensate you for." Once again, the financial officer did not look up from his desk. 

Right. As if Uncle Owen would even answer. Neither he nor Aunt Beru had answered any of his calls since he left home and signed up with the Fleet. 

But they just didn't understand. Luke couldn't spend his life in the day to day routine of moisture farming, watching the rest of the Galaxy turn around him. He wanted to get out and get away. See the world beyond the backwater dust-ball of his childhood and explore brave new worlds in his adulthood. But the Lars hadn't have much money and it wasn't like Luke's late parents (of which very little was spoken of) had seen fit to leave either him or his guardians any money or property of value, there were little avenues or opportunities open to him to get off world. In fact, there were only two possible ways for a poor desert brat like him to get off world. 

Join up with a pirate or smugglers crew. Or sign up with the Imperial Space Navy. 

So, Luke chose the lesser to two evils. 

He signed up for the navy.

At least it was legal. 

He went out early the morning of his sixteenth birthday after his mind was made up. Sneaking out of the farm house and into the garage, Luke intended to take the speeder into Anchorhead. Owen was waiting for him in the garage. Intent to stop him. Apparently, his sneaking wasn't too stealthy. 

He gave a speech about the stupidity of what he was about to do. That it was foolish and he was just fixing to get himself killed. That he was just like his father -he was a damn fool too!- and that he would just end up hurting everyone else who cared about him. Luke ignored everything his uncle had to say though. His mind was made up and there was nothing Uncle Owen could do to stop him. 

Aunt Beru was a bit gentler with him, but still just as disapproving. She met him outside the garage, as he was trying to maneuver the speeder around the complex. She brought him a sandwich lovingly wrapped, as if he were just going out to do maintenance on the vaporators. She asked Luke not to think poorly of his Uncle, he was just trying to protect him. There was a war on and the reason why the Fleet was so eager to lock new recruits into contracts was because they needed more and more bodied every day. That's all he would be to the Navy, just another body to throw into the war. 

That time Luke did pause. He placed his hand over hers, resting on the side of the speeder. He assured her that this was something he had to do and that he wouldn't die the death of a nameless soldier. He couldn't explain how or why, but he could feel it. This was something he had to do, and he would not become just another body counted in the war. He would be something. 

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say, because a shadow of fear crossed her face. But it was there and gone in the space of a second. She turned her hand, resting under his and grabbed his wrist, stronger than he thought she was capable of. "Don't… don't use the name Skywalker." She said suddenly. "Its a common name out here on the Rim, but it's a dangerous name to have closer to the Empire. Don't enlist under Skywalker. Use our name. Use Lars."

Luke blinked at her. "Why?"

But she didn't answer and he was in to much of a hurry to wait and pester her. 

That was the last he ever heard from either of them. Neither his aunt or uncle either called him or returned any of his calls during his time at the Academy. There was no reason to assume they would answer the comm for him now. In fact, Luke wasn't even sure if they would take his money now that he would actually be earning some. But they had raised him. And the farm wasn't easy or cheap to maintain. Maybe with the extra money, his uncle could hire a few more hands to help them out. 

Luke just filled out the form the best that he could and handed it back to financial officer. 

"Alright, Lars, your request should be processed in another eight to ten standard days. Everything should be in order by the time for first earning statement is payed." He said looking over the datapad. "Oh, and you forgot to fill out your pilot designation."

"Oh. Right, sorry. Its DS-42-6."

The officer began typing as Luke spoke, filling in the missing information on mental auto-pilot. "D… S… -Wait? DS? Death Star? They assigned a green kid like you to the Death Star!?" He gaped up at the kid, actually looking at him for the first time. 

"Top pilot in my graduating class." Luke said, not at all ashamed of the pride that seeped into his voice. Being the top flight student was a significant achievement and not even Uncle Owen could deny that. "I guess they wanna deploy their best people on the most important postings."

"What was that number again?"

"Squad forty-two, pilot number six." He answered. 

"Well, Luke Lars, I imagine you going far.

…

Most of Luke's bunkmates went out to celebrate their graduation almost immediately after the ceremonies. That meant that they all had a few hours head start on him and would probably be to faded to be good company when he did arrive. But that still didn't stop Luke from stopping in at the tapcaf they agreed on for their after grad party. 

As to be expected, of the twelve men Luke had shared a barracks with for the past two years, only three of them remained when he walked through the door. One of them was just paying his tab, a woman Luke had never seen before under one arm.

"I'm telling ya, baby, I ship out tonight." He was saying to her. "Oh, hey Lars, ya made it! A bit late. Maybe you can scoop Vard and Ika up off the floor."

He left. 

Vard and Ika were leaning over a table against the back wall. With a sigh, Luke crossed the tapcaff to assess them. Of the twelve bunkmates that Luke actually got along with, Ika was probably the closest one he would come to calling a 'best friend'. They weren't nearly as close as Luke had been with Biggs, but then, Biggs had to go off and desert on his first tour and place Luke in an uncomfortable situation with ISB right at the start of his second year at the Academy. Some great friend he turned out to be. 

But Luke wasn't gonna think about that now. This was the eve of his graduation from the Imperial Naval Academy. This was a happy day. Even if he was about to spend it taking care of his two drunk bunkmates that -in all likelihood- he would never see again. With a conscious effort, Luke pushed Biggs from his mind. 

Ika seemed to be past out on the table. A disposable coaster his only cushion against the hard plasteel and vinyl of the tabletop. Vard was at least sitting mostly vertical, but by the looks of it no less drunk. He used one hand to prop his face up while the other shot into the air in an unnecessarily showy greeting. He flailed spastically. "Hey! Look who made it!"

"A bit late, I think." Luke said as he slid into the booth next to Ika. 

"Nah. I's cool. We'll just get a new bottle." He flagged down a serving droid. "Another round for me and my buddies. And make the late arrivals a double -to make up for lost time."

"Belay that." He said to the droid. Luke just shook his head. He was in no mood to get drunk tonight. The fact that he was to report for transport and deployment absurdly in the morning or risk missing the boat aside, he just had a feeling it was in his best interest not to get completely sloshed. "We'll have a round of caff instead. And make their's a double." 

Vard scoff. "Ya know, Lars, for a guy who never had a daddy growing up, you act an awful lot like my father." With no small amount of effort, he pushed himself to his feet and jerkily maneuvered out of the booth. "Forget this. I'm going to finish cleaning out my bunk."

Staggering mildly, he made his way to the door, where he flagged down a transport. Well, at least he would be safe taxieing back to base.

Luke turned to look at Ika. He should probably call a transport for him too. 

Standing, Luke crossed to the public holo-net, passing a very pretty red-head on his way and he lamented the fact that he had to take care of his drunkard friend. She probably wouldn't want to stay and chat with someone who associated with rowdy or irresponsible soldiers like them. Suppressing a sigh, he dialed the public transport company's number that had been very boldly posted over the terminal's key-pad and ordered a taxi to take Ika (and probably him too) back to base. 

It didn't take long for the transport to arrive and when it did, Luke helped the driver carry his passed-out friend into the back seat. But Luke didn't feel much like going along. He had come to this tapcaff expecting a party -it was the eve of his graduation, after all- he felt he was entitled to at least some form of celebration. Luke payed the transport driver and went back into the tapcaff.

It was only after he sat back down at their table that the serving droid appeared with their three cups of caff. 

Luke's face fell into the palm of his hand.

The pretty red-head by the holo-net terminal gave an amused laugh. 

Luke looked back at her and their eyes met over the empty tapcaff. Her eyes were brilliant, and deep, and very very green. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he felt a wonderful and glittering feeling of exhilaration at the fact that a pretty girl was looking at him with a smile. That glittering feeling was quickly scrubbed away, however, when Luke remembered that he had no idea how to talk to girls. 

Back home, he'd hung out with Fixer's girlfriend. But that was always in a group setting and besides, she was already in a relationship with someone. There were a few female cadets at the Academy. But you didn't talk to them like girls unless you wanted to get punched in the dick. Luke really didn't wanna get punched in the dick by the pretty red-head.

Perhaps he hesitated a little to long after their eyes met because the red-head picked up her own drink and crossed the room to sit at his booth. "You gonna drink all those, Cadet?"

Oh, crap. The pretty girl was talking to him. What should he say? Should he make a joke? Or play it strait? Did girls like funny men, or strait forward men? Well, whatever he said, he better say something soon. Luke suddenly realized that his silence was stretching on into awkward territory. "Uh, uh… I, uh… Its 'Pilot'."

"What?" She blinked at him with those deep, sparkling, emerald green eyes. 

"I'm not a Cadet anymore." I explained quickly, his ears coloring self-consciously. "I graduated today. Now I'm a Pilot."

"Oh. I see. A pilot." She gave one of those smiles people give when they're humoring a small child and Luke suddenly felt like he had already messed up with this girl. The flushing of his ears spread to his cheeks. She must have noticed the blush (then again, how could she not?), because she took pity on him. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

Luke blinked. "Uh, not good at what?"

"Flirting." She said as if this should have been obvious. "Chatting up women. Attempting to entice them to leave with you. Shore leave doesn't last forever and you can't afford to waste time. I assume you're shipping out tomorrow?"

"Y-yes." He nodded. 

"So you've got, what, maybe seven hours before you have to report to your transport."

"Well, yes, actually." Luke had to pause. She knew an awful lot about military logistics. But then again, this was an Academy town. The locals must be used to young soldier-boys coming and going and trying to pick up their young women in between. 

"Well, Pilot, I've got even less time than that." She informed him, running a finger over the rim of one of the untouched caff mugs. "Ya see, I just came here for a quick job and now that the jobs done, I've only got a couple hours before I have to be lifting off and flying out."

"Oh, do you work for a shipping company?" Luke asked. Work was a polite subject to discuss, right?

She just shook her head, her red hair cascading round her shoulders in elegant waves. "No, no, you're getting this all wrong." She said. "Listen, Pilot, I have to ship out soon, you have to ship out soon. You're cute. I'm hot. And we're both lonely. You can't take me back to your barracks, and I won't take you to my ship. So, I was thinking of maybe one of those pay-by-the-hour places down the street from the port. We share a couple hours together, then go our separate ways. I don't tell you my name, you don't tell me your pilot designation."

Luke just blinked at her. It… it sounded like she was trying to proposition him. The blush on his face colored to almost scarlet. Oh, the things Aunt Beru would have to say if she heard this. "I… I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I don't do that sort of thing. I, uh, I wasn't brought up that way. But… if you like, I'll treat you to dinner."

With a sigh, the woman leaned back in her seat. "I don't suppose I've got the time to hunt down a better deal. Alright, Pilot, a chase little dinner date it'll be."

Finally feeling balanced for the first time since she sat down, Luke flagged down the serving droid. "Two menus, please."

She learned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "Well, Pilot, you're the first man to ever refuse my offer. So, either you're a perfect gentleman -which thought were just creatures of pure myth- or else I'm not your type of company." 

"Oh, I know I'm not a perfect gentleman." Luke assured her. He was idealistic and given over to fantasies and delusions of grandeur. Definitely not perfect. "But my aunt did raise me to be respectful."

"Good aunt." She took a sip of one of the abandoned cups of caff. 

"So…" Luke began awkwardly. "If you don't tell me your name, and I'm not allowed to tell you my pilot designation… what are we gonna talk about?"

"Good question." She nodded, tapping her bottom lip in thought. "What made you decide to become a pilot?"

"I was a little short for a Stormtrooper." He joked. "But actually, I always wanted to be a pilot. My father was a navigator on a spice freighter and a navigator is basically a co-pilot."

...

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

That was Mara Jade sitting with him at the tap caff, BTW. Luke wasn’t gonna see her again until after the destruction of the Death Star. 

Vader was gonna “sense a ripple in the Force” once Luke arrived on the Deathstar for his tour of duty. But he wasn’t actually going to take note of Luke specifically until Obi-Wan, Han, and... BIGGS DARKLIGHTER break onto the Deathstar to rescue Leia. 

In this AU, Biggs lives. He’s the one who makes the shot that destroys the Deathstar.

Luke and Vader are the only survivors. 

After their fighters (Vader’s TIE Advanced, and Luke’s shitty regular live-1 TIE fighter) are picked up by another Imperial ship, Vader confronts Luke face-to-mask.

Luke’s all like “I wanted to be a pilot because of my father.”

To which Vader replies “Owen Lars has never been, nor will he ever be, a pilot.” (Remember: Luke enlisted under the name “Lars”.)

Luke should be confused by Vader knowing so much about his uncle, but Luke’s also kinda dumb. So he just assumed Vader read his personnel file. He get’s all self-conscious and confesses to enlisting under a different name. Owen Lars is actually his uncle, not his father. His father’s name was Skywalker. 

Vader doesn’t visibly react, but behind his mask he’s just like, “OH SHIT!”

And that’s where the “A New Hope” volume of this AU was gonna end. 

[mc-slowwalker]

shipping to australia is a nightmare. anytime I go to do any online shopping I’m instantly stopped by the thought of shipping. hahahahahahaha at least that’d be a funny way to go out tho

yeah true!! every time I’m watching a vod I’ll get so startled cause they always pop up when you’re least expecting them too. I’ve only got my prime sub and I haven’t tested it but I have a feeling that twitch would still give you ads. they seem like the type

so true I’m not paying hundreds of dollars for textbooks I’m barely gonna use for half a year. oof that sucks. if I didn’t google my way through those exams I guarantee I would have failed though😅😅 then one subject that was ungoogleable, I did fail. god now I feel bad about how terrible a student I am

it’s so nice to see dream being on streams and having fun and interacting with other people !! it sucks cause I would absolutely LOVE to see dream on ppsat but I hate the idea of toxic people that would find reasons to shit on them :// like with gartic phone the other day. I felt like so toxic when the twitter updates account tweeted that dream was there cause I knew the “twitter stans” were coming. and I don’t even have a terribly negative view of stans as a whole. and then turns out it was justified and then I felt even worse. the gumi stuff pissed me off too. feeling a bit bad for dream tho. mans can’t even play with his friends without them getting attacked. I clicked on the links in your subtitle/heading/whatever it’s called when I first followed you like 6 or so months ago. was pretty funny

damnnn you’re doing all of those?? that’s tough. I dropped language (french) in yr 10 and decided to never touch maths again after I finished highschool and I loweky like maths too. oh I will 100% be telling people to touch grass that is so funny. I also can’t say anything about the nerd thing cause I just fully had the thought “what if I write an essay on the internet and it’s effect on language development”

Yes!! please tales!! where is it!! my weekly dose of happiness. I remember the last tales stream I watched like it was yesterday😪 I miss the ____ my beloved gifs that would be everywhere everytime a new character was introduced. I may have very little clue about any of the in between/the other side lore but damn were the builds insanely good. I was watching tubbo’s stream too and he said there wasn’t anything to do on the dream smp and like true ig but🥲🥲 he also said he’s been thinking about lore on twitter tho!!! so there is that !! hmm yeah I do wonder what they’re waiting for actually cause it’s been genuinely so long that c!dream’s been in the prison for. I wanna why it’s so important cause cc!dream and cc!sam put a lot of emphasis on it. and I just really really want to see what c!dream will be like out of the prison. for so many reasons

oh nooo ripppp. that’s kinda funny tho. the video was so short that was funny too. sapnap and george 2000iq moment nice. it was a nice vid tho, chill and enjoyable. so much dream content recently I feel like he’s about to drop off the face of the earth or miraculously stream something (highly unlikely but I can hope)

When streamers runs ads you gey a warning! But when vods do it it’s just a hey haha fuck you! You’re 100% right about twitch jeff bezo wouldn’t let any thing go to waste. He’s not the ceo right now but I hate him anyways. I’ve never actually used prime sub because I don’t have amazon prime, but I’ve been gifted subs a couple of times which was neat!

You know I may not be the best student but as someone who has cried a lot because of school I think it’s morally correct to be a bad student Cheat!! You’re paying then money they owe your ass so fucking much!! Abuse their resources stick it to the man. No time in life for guilt especially considering that universities are just corporations anyways they made hide behind the guise of learning but I’m calling them out no way knowledge gotta cost this much

I also love seeing dream stream with his other friends! To badly quote scott smajor, the dream team is made up of anti social sweaty fucks (affectionate). He’s always so awkward at first and ngl? Huge confidence booster /j/j. Logically I understand that twitter update accounts are useful, but I think they should all collectively take a break for a minute. Would it change anything? No. But it would make a lot of people very unhappy. I don’t even know what to do about toxic twitter stans because like, content creators and us can call them out and not at all condone their actions but we can’f actually do anything about it? It’s super frustrating. And I feel like a hypocrite too because if dream does stuff with a cc I hate I bitch about it too I just don’t have as far a reach. Like I for sure threw a whole fit when dream went on to kaceytron’s stream. Actually I tend to get upset when he goes onto streams with people who actively hate him. So I struggle with that because despite feeling like I’m justified in doing that, twitter stans feel justified in their stuff too. You could argue that it’s different because the chance that the ccs will see it is near 0 but it’s still the same behavior isn’t it? For sure not saying twitter stans are right, they piss me off how dare they say shit about gumi, but also I worry that I act similar you know?

I’m glad is was amusing I haven’t gotten any angry anons so I can never tell if the links are working or not

Listen listen it’s less that I chose this and more that they’re requirements. Spanish is a req, but I’ve always really liked spanish? I’ve found with learning languages I have to be interested in the lanrguage’s history/culture. So french makes me mad but spanish makes me feel cozy and I like it! I pick up spanish pretty fast too and I’d like to be actually fluent in it some day. Language as a whole is super interesting. Also the internet has made language even more interesting with widespread similarities and what not

Listen I would agree more with tubbo but instead Imm going to lighheartedly call him a coward who’s afraid of surprise lore! He said he would be there more often if other people logged on more often but I know for a fact other people feel the same and by him not regularly logging on he’s adding to it! I think foolish, ponk, puffy, and bbh have really upped my standards for lore. They log on at least once a week and make their own plot. Like bro if you’re bored start some shit tommy style! Personally I would make enemies with all the beets people. Tubbo has such cool lore I just wish he was willing to be a little more spontaneous. He was tired last night though so I can see his boredom beinf effected by that. I really really enjoyed bear smp those guys were so fucking funny and I will be watching more of them. Need to catch up on hermitcraft too

Who’s to say he can’t drop off the face of the planet and stream? He can multitask. Also hems been big on reddit recently so we’ll see where that leads ajddj

[jacepens]

Feckless

Pirates!!!! Today we have PIRATES!! :) also this is about 5700 words so get comfortable! (All T!)

Feckless: weak, ineffective, or worthless

Lafayette wanted to be a pirate more than anything he’d ever wanted, but every day every captain he talked to turned him away. Scorned and desperate to join the crew of the famous Phrygian, Lafayette makes a bold move to impress Captain Washington and accidentally steals his heart as well.

***

They took one look at him and told him he couldn’t last a day on their ship. They grabbed his arms, pinched his belly, and laughed at his young face. Weak, they called him. They told him land was the best place for him. Made a ‘joke’ about selling his pretty face to desperate men who couldn’t get their hands on a woman. Lafayette spat on their boots and left them.

He’d been stuck in the same place for years now. He made his way by selling to traders, finding new targets, any sort of work he could get his hands on. It was always so varied. One day he was shipping goods off to a buyer he helped negotiate a deal with, coin heavy in his pocket, and the next day and he was cleaning shit off the stairs and porch of the brothel for a single coin.

Everyday he stared longingly at the sea. He watched the sailors laugh and swing their arms around the others, making loud boasts and claims of their daring sea adventures. Every fluffed up tale excited him more than the last. Left him craving to experience that adventure for himself.

He would hang around the docks and taverns to sit and listen. Listen to the details about how they lived life aboard ship in the little things they let slip. Sleeping quarters, portioned food, open baths. Even if not every little thing about their lives excited him, he knew he still wanted it.

He wanted the salty sea air to wake him up in the mornings, wanted the rush of attacking a vessel and boarding it to steal its treasures. He wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere. And where better than a ship? Where every hand is needed to keep it afloat, to secure vessels, to load cannons, to stop leaks. He wanted to be on a ship instead of withering away on this little island.

But every captain turned him down. It was the same story every time. Too small, too young, too weak. They took one look and decided they knew his heart, decided the sea was no place for him, decided he would be a terrified child, knees knocking together at the sound of cannon fire.

It was a miracle he did not bash their faces in every time they decided this for him.

He continued to stay on that island, live by the port to get a taste of what he so desperately craved. So many of his dreams were infiltrated by the salty smell of the ocean, turning his dreams to what he desired the most. Waking up became agony the more prevalent those dreams became.

A brand new ship arrived at the docks that day. The ship itself was not brand new, but its arrival was the first anyone had seen of it.

Workers clambered about to begin unloading the loot from the ship. The people began crowding around at the docks, an excited rumble began and Lafayette took interest.

He heard mumblings and whisperings as he pushed his way through the crowd, heart hammering louder each time the name was muttered aloud. The sea’s most notorious pirate captain wasn’t here of all places, was he?

He caught glimpses of someone through the cracks between people, standing on his toes to look just over the heads of the crowd. Then he saw what had them all so excited.

Captain George Washington.

He looked to be perfectly at ease, even as the crowd grew and grew. He was discussing something with a supplier, pointing out things on paper, likely negotiating a price or deadlines. It was like he didn’t even see the crowd of people gathered just to catch a glimpse of him.

Lafayette’s heart pounded in growing excitement as he strained to keep staring. He wondered how long he would stay here for, if perhaps his ship needed repairs, if he needed new crewmen?

Wouldn’t that be something? If he joined Captain Washington’s crew he could show up all the other captains that turned him down, prove himself on none other than Washington’s ship.

He smiled to himself at the pleasant thought, already worming it’s way into his heart.

Lafayette watched as he scribbled something down on the paper and without even a glance at the crowd, returned to his boat. The crowd started dispersing with a displeased grumble, but Lafayette was rooted to where he stood.

As soon as he saw an opening, he darted to the supplier Washington had been speaking to, trying to catch him before he left.

“Monsieur, wait!” He called out, grabbing the man by the arm and turning him around. “Did Washington say anything about needing new men?”

The man huffed, an amused smile pulled on his sullen lips. “Lafayette, I will tell you if there are Captains looking for new crew mates.”

“You did not last time.” He snapped.

The smile fell. “Because the position had already been filled, now please I must-”

“Answer my question first.” He glared, still keeping an iron grip on his arm.

He let out a long sigh, pushing the hand off. “He mentioned if there was a promising man or two he might take them in. But he does not need anyone else. He’s looking for seasoned men, not someone like yourself. The position isn’t yours to fill.” He said shortly, leaving Lafayette behind to glare a hole in his back.

So he was willing to hire new men. Lafayette could work with willing.

He was lucky enough that the crew would be in town for weeks while their ship was repaired and cleaned. In the taverns, everyone was glued to the people from Washington’s ship, asked dozens of questions, and bought drinks for them. Being a part of Washington’s crew came with unmeasurable benefits.

Lafayette tried to speak with them, tried to sneak in and see if he could figure out how to meet with the elusive captain, but the men kept their lips shut. Lafayette became tempted as the days wore on to march on the damned ship himself and demand a meeting with the captain to plead his case. But that surely wouldn’t be appreciated if he did not get shot first.

But the more and more days passed the more desperate he became. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he knew he let an opportunity like this slip from him. He had to do something bold, but what was there to do? Something that could gain the captain’s attention and maybe, just maybe, earn himself a place on the ship.

When night fell and the town quieted down, Lafayette enacted his plan. He grabbed his pack and secured his sword around his waist, throwing a dark cloak over himself to help him blend in.

The door squeaked shut behind him as he hopped down the old wooden stairs onto the street. Dirt kicked up behind him with how quickly he was walking, heart beating against his chest, stomach in knots. This could go horribly wrong or wonderfully right. He hoped and prayed this was the sort of bold thing needed to grab Washington’s attention. That it would not ruin his chances completely.

He saw the ship in the distance before any of the others. Looming tall and opposing against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He picked up his pace until he was on the docks, ships creaking and bobbing in the dark water.

He glanced around him, to check if there were any watching, but there was not a soul in sight. He approached the ship, stomach churning as he worried that his plan was foolish and would not work. Until he spotted the perfect little ledge go grab a hold of and pull himself over to where he needed to be.

With a final breath to ready himself, he jumped and grabbed a hold, led scrambling to just barely rest on some protruding wood. His arms already ached, but he pushed through the pain, reaching for the next ledge in his sight, stretching his arm out until it tingled. He grabbed and pulled himself up again.

He continued the agonizing climb until he finally managed to see the deck of the boat. And a man.

He gasped and quickly ducked his head, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. He heard a scrape of wood and the thud of boots coming towards him. His heart hammered louder and louder, did he really see him? Was it all over? Would he never get to achieve his dream?

“What are you doing?” An uninterested voice said from above. Lafayette looked up and gave him a sheepish smile.

“I was- er- well you see, monsiuer-”

“You wanna speak to Washington, that it?” His monotonous tone of voice did not betray how he felt.

Well, not just speak he thought. “Oui.” He smiled.

“And you climbed all the way up here just to do that? He’s nothing special.” The man shrugged.

“Yes, but it is something very particular I wish to speak about.”

“And what might that be?”

Lafayette froze, looked away from the man. “To join your crew?” He particularly whispered the words, cringed, waiting for the laugh, for the scoff, the disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, alright come on.”

“What?” Lafayette cried.

“Yeah, why not? It’s clearly important to you, he’s not busy.”

“But-”

“What? Are you going to argue?” He laughed, holding out his hand. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

Lafayette grabbed a hold, already exhausted muscles aching from the final push. And then he was on board. His head spun just at the thought, the feeling.

He looked up at his savior and sprung up to throw him in his arms.

“Je vous remercie monsieur!”

“Vous êtes les bienvenus.” The man said with a playful wink. Lafayette laughed, not expecting him to respond in French, but was delighted to hear it.

“He’s just down there.” He said, pointing, “You’ll know which room is his.”

With a nod, Lafayette scampered down the stairs to the dark inside. Lanterns were lit and hanging off walls but it did little to light the darkness.

The door was the first thing he saw, Captain’s Quarters stamped on it with fading ink. He could see light pouring out from underneath the door and Lafayette took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn’t appear afraid, he had to hold his head high and prove his worth. Prove to Captain Washington that he deserved a spot on this ship.

He raised his fist and knocked against the door, the sound echoing throughout the empty hold. He heard a gruff voice tell him to come in and Lafayette threw the door open, leaving his fears at the door.

He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk, a confused look in his eye before it returned to quiet sternness.

“Who are you?”

“I have come here to prove my worth to you, sir.” He said, standing tall and proud, trying his best to enunciate every English word cleanly.

“How did you get here?” He quietly asked, head tilting slightly, shadow growing over his face.

Lafayette swallowed. “I climbed aboard, sir.”

“And Hamilton? Did he not stop you?”

“He did, sir. And then he pointed me here.”

An amused look shined in his eyes as he muttered to himself, “of course he did.”

“But I did not come here to talk, sir.”

“Oh?”

“I am here to fight you.” Lafayette gulped, waiting in anticipation for his response, waited to see his eyes narrow in scrutiny. No such event happened.

“What will you accomplish by doing that?”

“I will prove to you that I am a skilled man with merits.”

Washington’s gaze stayed locked on his eyes, blank expression was all he could read before his shoulders sunk with a sigh.

“Very well then.” He nodded. “I assume you have your own blade?”

Lafayette couldn’t believe his ears, it was working!

“I do.” He nodded slowly, holding himself back from jumping up and down. He needed to convey his maturity and strengths now more than ever. One slip up and he’d be back to square one.

He removed the cloak from over his shoulders and flung it to the ground. He wondered with the cloak gone if the man would reconsider his choice, now he was unable to hide his small form. Would it all end?

Washington stood and paused after Lafayette removed the cloak. His hands stayed perfectly still atop the letter and a chill ran through him as he was scrutinized. His eyes trailed lower, all the way down to his muddy boots before looking away from him entirely.

He let out a relieved sigh. He had passed the first test. There was a hum low in his mind and body as he pulled the cutlass from its scabbard, throwing that to the ground as well. He was not well protected against a blade, his clothes thin and not layered, but this was his only option. If he could just prove his skill at this surely he would consider letting him join?

He watched with a keen eye as Washington unsheathed his cutlass, shiny and much more clean than Lafayette’s. Lafayette backed up a step to give the captain room to move, but he would not pin himself to the door. He wanted to win after all.

Washington stepped in front of him, and Lafayette watched in wonder as his stance and expression changed, focusing on the sword, adjusting his grip, stepping back and forth on his feet. Once he stilled there was a charge in the air.

Lafayette lunged forward first.

He knew Washington was expecting it, would surely brace himself for it, which is why it was a light swing, a test. His blade did not come anywhere near the captain, but it did send him flying forward on reflex to block the attack that never came.

Lafayette jumped at the opportunity to strike him down, but the man was quicker than he anticipated, already adjusting himself to block Lafayette’s real attack. The man made no comment on the bold move, but tried to force him back, tried to shuffle forward so Lafayette would pin himself to the wall.

He almost growled at him. How foolish did he think he was? So young and uneducated he would let himself be pinned to the wall?

He quickly side-stepped, heart racing and adrenaline rushing, leaving the man fumbling but only for a second. Lafayette had truly never battled such a worthy opponent before. One who used every resource available to him.

Lafayette wasn’t about to try and destroy his room to gain his victory, but Washington made the first move. He suddenly grabbed the chair to push in front of him. He almost laughed at the simplicity of the move but damn, it worked well as it was the last thing he expected.

Not bothering to try anything fancy he maneuvered around the chair to get back at attacking Washington. Now that the room was free to use, books were tossed, papers were scattered, even ink somehow managed to splatter on his shirt.

He was running out of breath, out of fight, his tired muscles still not forgetting what he made them go through to get here. But he refused to quit, he could not quit. He pondered over using a risky move, one that would end this, but against Washington it might be completely ineffective.

He scorned the skill of his opponent. He soon found himself defending against the man who was charging forward and slashing and slashing, panting harshly, sweat running down his forehead. Lafayette’s eyes caught on the bead, watching as it traveled down his neck to his collar. Then he was being thrown against the wall.

He cried out, backside sore from the intense impact. At the sudden end of movement his cutlass clattered from his hand, stiff from holding it so long.

“Do you yield?” He asked, still catching his breath, sword delightfully cold against his neck. His hot breath was puffed into his face, a reminder that his distraction was what started all this.

Lafayette’s eyes slipped to the ground. “Yes.” He whispered.

Washington’s weight pulled back, allowed him to move and to stretch. Finally able to look away from Washington he noticed the terrible state the room was in, himself included. A sad smile pulled on his lips. He wrecked his room and lost the fight. There was no way he’d let him join now.

He grabbed his sword off the ground, sighing and scrubbing away the dirt with a little frown.

“Just what is your name?” Washington asked, amazement in his breathy voice. Lafayette did not realized he’d never given it. What would be the use now? To further shame him? Use his name to tell the other captains about the feckless young man who tried to join his crew?

“Gilbert de Lafayette.” He said, looking up to see Washington.

He smiled down at him, charming despite the fight that he had defeated him. He held out his hand as he began to speak, “Lafayette, welcome aboard the Phrygian.”

Lafayette cried tears of joy when Washington welcomed him aboard his ship. He threw his arms around him and cried French gratitudes, promising he would not let him down. Washington assured him that Lafayette would do no such thing. He said the skill, determination, and cunning was exactly what he was looking for, that he would make a fine addition to his crew.

Lafayette had blushed furiously under all the praise, so used to being scorned. Afterwards he might have even given him two kisses on his cheeks before running off with glee.

And now the day was here.

He signed his name under all the others on their list of rules and pledged his allegiance to his ship over Washington’s blade, done up beautifully in gold and jewels.

People in the town muttered when he rounded the corner, unable to believe that Lafayette was joining the Phrygian. It made him puff out his chest and smile wide. He had done it. He had really done it.

He boarded the ship with no hesitation, did not look back once even as they pulled the anchor up and dropped the sails. This was his home now.

Not everyday was expected to be peachy and fun, in fact, most days he was doing hard labor under the deck, if he was lucky. He slept on the floor or a hammock, depending on who was feeling generous that night. But overall, Lafayette felt he belonged. He felt each task given to him was important, needed to keep the ship maintained and floating, and ready for an attack.

The first ship he boarded had been a whirl. Tallmadge picked the next mark, had studied and deliberated over his map and intelligence for days. The day of, Laurens ordered the gunners and cannons to hit their marks, even taking hold of some himself when a man kept hitting the hull instead of the mast. He was a deadly shot every time. Hamilton ensured the men were ready to board, inspecting guns, swords, told them to focus and not get distracted unless they wanted to lose a leg. And Washington? Washington surveyed.

Lafayette was anxiously waiting with Hamilton, waiting as the other ships cannon fire died down, giving up. Lafayette’s gaze kept turning to Washington, calm and steady, occasionally shouting a command to one of his men when he saw necessary.

When their boat got close enough, Lafayette was shoved into action and out of his trance by unseen hands. He tossed grappling hooks and rope over the side, using all his might to get it across. Once they were close enough Hamilton and Washington alike were shouting orders to board, quickly following behind.

On the deck of the ship there was a shocking amount of destruction. For all of Laurens’s careful orders to make sure the ship did not sink, it was a dizzying and terrifying sight. He feared it would all suddenly collapse beneath him and leave him to drown in the sea.

He was roused from his thoughts by more shoving and pushing and Lafayette drew his cutlass. There was a battle to be fought.

Gunpowder clouded his vision and burned his eyes and nose, so much of it in the air it was like a storm cloud. Their captain put up a fight and Lafayette watched in awe as Washington struck him down.

Lafayette had only ever witnessed him in action once before and that time there had been no anger, no determination in his expression. This was completely different. He fearlessly cut and shot all in his path, raging about, throwing people overboard like they were an empty trunk. His wide chest heaved and the sweat that distracted him before glittered in the sun like he himself was a treasure. Lafayette wet his dry lips and tried to focus on what he was here to do.

At night, the men celebrated their haul while the coin was being counted. Lafayette joined in, singing along, drinking ale, cheering and joking. They all treated him like he belonged, like he wasn’t any different from the rest of them.

After that day Lafayette couldn’t have been more certain that he had found his home, his people.

Months later, they were still out at sea. Not enough treasures to justify bringing it back to be appraised yet. Lafayette was so content here, sore, but happy and full like he hadn’t known since before his parents died.

The candles had been blown out hours ago, curfew enforced so men could rise early, but Lafayette was above deck, breathing in the sea air, feeling the cool wind blow on his face.

He heard familiar footfalls behind him, but did not rouse from his spot gazing at the dark water. Washington stood next to him, eyes on the water, then turned to Lafayette with a tender look.

“Lafayette? What are you still doing awake?”

Lafayette tore his gaze from the water, pouting slightly, “We are allowed to stay awake if we are above deck.” He teased, tempted to poke him with his elbow.

The captain sighed, smiling and shaking his head, “I know the rules Lafayette. We wrote them. I only mean to ask if there is something on your mind.”

“Not especially.”

“Not especially?”

“I am just- well I am grateful, sir.” He blushed.

“Grateful?” Washington chuckled softly, bringing warmth to Lafayette’s cheeks. “I appreciate the statement but I do not see how you can be grateful for all the labor you do all day.”

Lafayette hummed, “Well not grateful for that, but I gladly do it. With you, on this ship, I feel so at peace and content. I am joyful like I’ve never felt, my heart is full.”

“I see.” Washington shifted beside him, Lafayette saw his hand in his peripherals and froze as he felt it plant down on his shoulder. “I am glad you feel this way.” His thumb gently passed over his shoulder and Lafayette melted under the simple touch.

The wind whistled in his ear, the sea turned and splashed below, the ship creaked all around them, but despite all the distractions, Lafayette could only focus on that hand. So warm and perfect, it spread warmth through the body he hadn’t even known was cold.

“Why did you become a pirate?” Lafayette asked delicately, turning his head to gauge if his question was warranted.

“I suppose the same reason any man becomes a pirate.” He shrugs, “I was a sailor on a wealthy Englishman’s ship. We got our orders from a man who didn’t even know his own crew. Our captain was a harsh man, no one was allowed to speak against him or he would withhold meals, give you lashes. He and the Englishman received all the profits we worked for, while we were lucky to receive one or two coin a week. I was not the only one on that ship who wished to turn to pirating. So we did, and years later I wouldn’t change my decision no matter what.”

Lafayette listened carefully to his story, got swept up in the way he enunciated and pronounced each word, listened with a certain care he did not apply to just any conversation. He was so wrapped up he didn’t notice when it had ended.

“That’s lovely, monsieur.” He whispered.

“And you?” Washington turned that nostalgic gaze to him.

“And me?”

“Why were you so eager to join my crew? So willing to prove yourself that you challenged me to a fight?” He grinned. Lafayette giggled at the memory, he remembered how utterly terrified he was, so certain he would not be allowed on board. That he would be scorned like he so often was.

“What can I say? The sea called to me like nothing had before. The idea of the- the camaraderie- is that how you say that?” He looked up at Washington with big eyes.

“I understood you perfectly, my boy.”

He blushed, shuffling his feet, “ah yes, well that and feeling like I belonged somewhere was what I craved. And I challenged you to a fight because of how frequently I have been turned down.” He added.

“Other captains turned you down?” He sounded shocked, his brows furrowing at the statement.

“Oui. But, look at me! I am not exactly an ideal pirate.” He chuckled, trying to make light of how self conscious he had become the more and more often he was turned away.

The hand on his shoulder moved down to grab a hold of his hips and turn him to face George. The air left his lungs as he looked up into those dark and thoughtful eyes, so full of tender emotion and care.

“Lafayette, you are absolutely perfect as you are.” Lafayette swallowed, unable to move and tear his gaze away from Washington’s eyes. He sounded so confident and sure of himself, he made it sound like it was fact.

Lafayette, overwhelmed with feelings surging forward at the declaration, the feeling of his captain’s hands on him, the warmth heating him so completely, he leaned up.

Washington was warm, oh so warm that it sent spirals of heat down his spine, had him shivering into the kiss. Washington’s other hand wrapped around to grab at his lower back, pull him even closer to that magnetic heat.

A content sigh escaped his lips as Washington kissed him, until he felt his hand grip him harder. He panicked, suddenly realizing what he had done and flew back. He could not even find the strength to explain himself to apologize. He had never done something as reckless like that before. He ran down the stairs to his quarters, heart beating so loudly he could not hear his heavy footsteps.

He cried himself to sleep, shaking and hiccuping into his blanket. What had he done?

They were attacked while eating breakfast.

A terrifying loud boom echoed from above followed by the whole ship shaking and slamming Lafayette into the table he was eating at. There was no time to clean, or even think about what was going on, they needed to act now. There was a reason they always kept their weapons on them, ready to fight at the drop of hat because they never knew when they would be attacked.

The men clambered up the narrow stairs, getting tossed aside when another boom shook them. On deck, men were scrambling. Hamilton, Laurens, and Tallmadge were all frantically ordering the men about, shouting above the destruction.

Lafayette frantically looked for Washington before he was pulled away by Laurens who stationed him at a cannon. Lafayette did as he was told, fumbling quickly to load and reload, light the fuse and watch the gunner aim and shoot. There was no need for precision today.

His arms ached from the weight of the cannonballs, threatening to tear him apart every time he picked one up, but he fought through the agony. He would not see the Phrygian go down.

He felt calm sweep over him when he heard Washington’s voice begin to ring out above all the commotion. He stole a look up to see him at the helm, large palms gripping the wheel, spinning it with ease and skill.

“Get your head out of the sand.” Laurens shouted at him. Lafayette yelped and did as he was told, focusing on his task.

The first cry from Washington to hit the deck was utterly terrifying. He realized immediately with terror what it meant. He breathed a shaky sigh when he felt a cannonball rumble just overhead. He shuddered to think what would have happened if a poor soul didn’t get down in time. With the threat eliminated for now, they returned to firing, desperately trying to sink the large frigate flying English colors.

It approached closer and closer, at full sail and Lafayette realized with a sickening twist, they were about to get rammed.

“Get down! Now!” Washington’s voice rang out, every man falling to the ground immediately.

The wood cracked loudly, it sent some men flying, it made their ship rock and sway and tip dangerously close to its side. Men started pouring from the frigate swords in hand and charging. They wore standard English uniforms and it was clear they were here to arrest them.

Hamilton called everyone to arms, loading guns and shooting the men as they boarded. Lafayette grabbed his sword and immediately sprung into action. His heart was hammering loudly, but anger brought his sword down with every swing.

Before, he had been doing it for treasure, but now he was doing it protect what he loved. Lafayette would kill a thousand men alone if it meant keeping his ship safe.

He felt rage burn hot in him with every man that stepped on board daring to take his friends. There was blood and more blood and screams and more screams. The fight was over before he realized. They were able to vastly outnumber the crew, the only man left was the captain struggling in Washington’s grasp.

Washington was panting and covered in blood, gripping the man by his shirt. He watched as Washington spat in his face and threw him overboard with a roar. Lafayette’s heart raced and the men around him cheered and celebrated, hugging their fellow men.

Washington looked up and their eyes met. Rage was still burning, his lips twisted in anger until he looked down at his own leg. Lafayette watched as the look turned to panic and he rushed forward, collapsing right before him.

Lafayette ran forward, heart thudding, hands shaking and fearing the worst.

“Washington!” He cried, grabbing at his lapels and desperately shaking him, “Washington!” He sobbed, tears overwhelming him as he slumped over the still body.

Lafayette never left his side once. Not since he awoke and grasped his hand so tightly his knuckles were white, begging him to stay.

Nothing broke his heart more than seeing Washington so weak and frail. His voice soft and his hands shaky, face far too pale for Lafayette’s liking.

Lafayette did not leave when the closest thing they had to a doctor removed the bullet, sewed his skin back up while the blood continued to flow. He cleaned it up and anxiously poured some spirits down his throat.

Lafayette stayed by his side day and night. Insisting he eat and drink, easing him when he began to panic about his men. He was overwrought with panic, the pain gripped his heart every day at the thought of Washington slipping away from him.

“Shhhh, George everything is alright.” Lafayette soothed, wiping his thumb against his tear stained cheek.

“I need to assess the damage-”

“You know your men are capable, George. You need to rest.” Washington looked up at him, shocked like he had not realized it had been Lafayette soothing him.

He frowned, his face contorting to Lafayette’s dismay as he shifted down in the bed, listening to Lafayette, and quickly falling asleep.

A few weeks later and the captain began feeling much more like himself. He began taking reports and giving orders from bed, demanding a tally of what was damaged in the attack. The reports sounded grim, but Lafayette knew Washington employed talented men who could repair the ship, keep them afloat and steady until they reached land.

A few more weeks and Washington was on his feet again, much to Lafayette’s joy. He had wrapped him up in a hug and kissed his cheeks like he had the night he allowed him on his ship.

Washington looked softly down at him, cheeks flushed and eyes shining. “I appreciate you looking after me, Lafayette.”

“You do not need to thank me for that. I would have not slept if I knew mon cher capitaine was in danger.” He grinned, so happy and excited he was bouncing on his toes.

“Lafayette, I-”

“Captain,” Hamilton interrupted, “the men are demanding to see you.”

“Of course.” The smile fell from his face until he looked back at Lafayette. “Lafayette, will you meet me here tonight?” He asked, giving him that same star struck look that caused him to kiss him many night ago.

“Why of course I will.” He nodded, smiling at the look, but unsure what his captain could want from him.

When the sun set and the moon and stars lit the black sky, Lafayette hurried to captain’s quarters. He had felt an anticipation humming in his chest all day ever since he knew he would be meeting back here with his captain.

With Washington back to his normal self, Lafayette could no longer pretend to forget the kiss that overtook him so that night, but the fear of losing his captain had only multiplied his feelings, had allowed them to bloom all warm and fuzzy in his chest. He knew what he needed to stay and express, even if his captain did not approve. Washington needed to know how he felt.

He raised his fist and knocked against the door, the sound echoing throughout the quiet hold. Washington told him to enter and Lafayette slipped inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Washington looked up from his work and a wide smile broke out across his face. Lafayette’s heart hammered in his chest, face turning hot. The captain gestured behind him.

“Why don’t you go ahead and lock the door?”

***

As always, the most updated version will be here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515570

Oh! And I almost forgot (If you made it this far) today may or may not be the final day, we’ll see what tomorrows word is!:)

[crapitskizaru]

Eustass Kid x Mermaid!Reader

You and your blog are wonderful! I’ve had this idea stuck in my brain for days, so I was hoping I could request a scenario with Kid being in love with a mermaid (no angst, please!). Thank you!!! the-devil-fruit-tree

Warning: hahAaa jk there's no warning to this one also friendly recommendation to watch Sinbad: the legend of the seven seas

Word Count: 1,9k

The spiky peaks of mountains rose in the distance, blocking their path to the rest of an open ocean. In the man's mind, they resembled claws or, rather, teeth of a sea creature that just waited for his ship to sail within its reach.

"We'll see who's stronger," he muttered to himself. The wooden railing felt unnaturally cold underneath his clenched fingers; the whole crew could notice it as well, in their tensed postures and cautious gazes - something alien was hiding in between those dark cliffs. It resonated throughout the air and the structure of the ship, vibrated among the sea waves.

Kid marched onto the quarterdeck and snatched the steering wheel away from Killer’s grasp.

“I hope you’re aware that only the most foolish of captains would dare to sail a ship through this?”

“And here I thought that after so many years you’d know what kind of captain I am,” Kid snapped back and directed the ship towards a narrow gap between the mountains - so narrow that they grazed along the side of the hill with the ship’s lift. “We’ve been through worse.”

It was like a curtain - after their made it through the opening, the ambient sounds of the ocean were deafened by the stifling silence and the sky-high cliffs surrounding them. The water was still as they glided through its even surface.

“Rocks off the starboard bow!” Heat warned and they missed them by inches. 

The deeper they strayed, the colder the air turned; shipwrecks filling most of the area, whether massive, merchant vessels or less impressive cutters - drops of water dripped down their wooden planks as some of them were turned upside down, others smashed to pieces against the rocks.

Somewhere among the rising fog, a quiet hum of a melody rung around the dead mountains. Kid noticed the crew’s agitation getting stronger with each second as they passed a wreck of a galleon - its construction rotten to the core, hanging dangerously in between two larger boulders. 

“Captain?” Killer’s voice was laced with the usual amount of worry as the humming turned into a singing voice; more than one voice after a while, crystal clear and resonating throughout the stone walls. “It’s the sirens-” 

“Half of us are gay, what are you worried about?” 

“It doesn’t change anything! Their voice is enchanted.” 

Kid rolled his eyes and gestured for the first mate to keep it down. The flow of waters beneath the ship was faster now, relentless, as they gained in speed. 

As soon as Killer spotted his captain leaning over the steering wheel with a blissful expression on his face, he knew it was time to take matters into his own hands.

“Plug your ears! Cover them, go hide below the deck, just do something not to hear the singing!” he yelled, seizing one of his crewmates who was about to jump off to the sea and pushing him towards the galley. 

Some wanted to stay onboard despite the danger, as living through a siren’s allurement was a valuable story to share in taverns, but one glance towards Killer’s deadly aura was enough convincing they needed to follow his orders.

Kid observed the deck emptying of his crew, most of them deciding to hide inside the ship and leave the issue of survival to their captain. Terrible idea, he thought, resting his head on his palm and swaying the steering wheel casually. 

He could feel his mind free of enchanted hold, his judgement as sharp as ever. But who was there to deny him the experience of spotting the sirens with his own eyes? He had to see them, creatures that so foolishly thought they could bend him to their charms. 

Killer’s yell snapped him out of the trance as the ship missed a bunch of sharp rocks at the last moment. The rush of air kept hitting him directly in the face - the water now swifter than ever, taking away the control of the wheel and leading them to its own course. 

The first mate was halfway up the stairs to the quarterdeck when Kid spotted them. Sat on the railing, the creatures resembled water spirits rather than demons; which the sailors so liked to imagine when surrounded by the steady ground and the influence of beverage. Killer still hadn’t noticed them, but from his frantic gestures and silent demands Kid assumed he already plugged his ears and was ordering for him to do the same. 

The ship’s side hit the stone wall, making them jolt forward. The water stream didn’t stop in its assault, however, pushing the ship further between the cliffs. There had to be an opening somewhere among them, a gateway...But Kid’s focus kept shifting to the three, captivating beings still seated on the railing. They seemed so peaceful, their song flowing in the air. 

He didn’t notice the serpents of water reaching out and taking ahold of his legs until it was too late - one of the sirens jerking him away from the wheel and pushing him closer to them. 

The sea creature was so fragile. Kid couldn’t help but note their skin resembling clear liquid, their faces shifting like a water stream. They needed his protection, his strength and powers. One of them came closer than the others, their arm curling around his neck as it whispered the song straight into his ear. 

“Kid! Get back here this instant, or so help me, I’ll drown you myself!” 

Killer’s words taken away by the rush of the wind as a sudden jolt of the ship made the captain lose his balance. He flew straight onto the creature - and through it, rolling off the railing and into the depths of the sea. 

All of his senses were snapped out of him as soon as he hit the dark surface, engulfed by the freezing cold. His limbs itched to move, but instead remained motionless as the man sank deeper and deeper. 

A face appeared in front of his own. The creature was so close, he could feel the influence of their body and the tiny vortexes that it consisted of. Surprisingly, he wasn’t scared; the only thing he could feel was the overwhelming cold that seeped through his clothing and seemingly to the bottom of his soul. 

His body had been seized by a sudden force - he couldn’t make out what it was that dragged him away and upwards, but it was wise to assume he won’t live long enough to find out. 

The first gasp of air was worth more than all of the past treasures he stole as he was thrown out of the water, landing on stone in complete darkness. His muscles listened when he commanded them to move, but reluctantly, still stiff and sore. 

“Who’s there?” he rasped into the dark. Pure salt seemed to be filling his entire mouth, scorching in his throat. But at least he was still breathing and not yet being devoured in the freezing depths. 

All that answered him was silence. That was, until his eyes adjusted, letting him spot a creature drifting in the water just a few steps away. He could swear it was staring straight at him, but it made no move. 

“You wanna eat me or no?” Kid breathed, his chest rising heavily. The thick clothing he still had on could have helped with the cold, if only it wasn’t soaked to the last string, now acting as nothing else than unnecessary weight to carry. “I don’t have all day.” 

As soon as it swam closer, he realized it wasn’t made of water - it resembled a human. A fine piece of human, he internally added, that’s going to bite all of your fingers off for a starter, you idiot.

“You don’t want to sing a little song and throw me off my own ship?” he continued to bark out and slowly sat up on the hard stone, dripping water gathering into a puddle underneath him. “That’s a pity. It was a lot of fun.”

“No one wants to eat you,” they finally spoke, their voice seemingly free of any spells. “Although it’s starting to sound quite tempting.”

“I’m pretty sure those things from before wanted a piece of me.” 

Kid took a moment to assess the situation he currently had the dubious pleasure to be in. There were a lot of times when he woke up without any recent memories or any idea about the place he was laying at, but this? It felt like he already lost his mind, at the verge of death, and was talking to himself rather than to an imaginary creature in the water. 

“They wanted to drown you,” it calmly spoke again, leaning over and resting against the stone ledge with half of their body still submerged. “For the sheer sake of it. They despise humans and take great pleasure in watching them die.”

“Your friends and I have a lot in common then.” Kid squeezed the water out of his fur. With the corner of his eye, he noticed the expression on the creature’s face twitch in annoyance. Perhaps it was time to think about survival rather than indulging in sarcastic exchanges with a water demon. 

“They are not my friends. I’m not a siren.” 

Kid took his time to eye them up and down, his gaze sweeping from their upper body lower - until it reached what was moving lazily beneath the surface. 

“A mermaid,” he muttered, angry at himself for letting a sound of astonishment lace his tone. “A mermaid, you’ve got a tail and everything.” 

He could swear they raised a taunting eyebrow at him. “Are you always this sharp?” 

With another wave of shivers that ran down his core, he realized this was no time for a small talk with an ocean creature. Even if he survived, by some unfortunate miracle, what happened with his ship? 

“Where’s my crew?” he asked, placing careful steps along the stone shelf. “Did they make it?” 

“I suppose. You were doing well. Not many ships made it this far.” 

Despite his lips already turning dry from salt, he bit down on them hard. There was no way he could make it back to the ship - not when it was water that separated them, especially the one infested with frenzied, blood-thirsty devils.

“You’re strong,” he started. “You pushed me out of the water.” They didn’t respond, so he gave up the act. “I can’t swim.” 

The mermaid cocked their head to the side. “Is this your way of asking for help?”

There was a lingering pause after the question, during which Kid assumed he’s gone completely nuts - if that was the case, it won’t hurt to comply and start winging it; which wasn’t anything new for him when it came to dealing with various types of problems. 

“Yes,” he gritted out. There was the image of Killer, climbing up the stairs to help him, imprinted in his mind. Even if he was dead, Kid will make sure to follow in his steps as soon as possible. “I have to go back.” 

There was a smile rising on their features, or perhaps it was just a play of his mind. Whatever the case, the mermaid reached out and took his hand, their touch cold but surprisingly soft against his skin. 

“Hold your breath,” they whispered and dragged him underwater. 

[iris-ymir]

Guilty or Innocent - Iris

Asked someone to marry you? 

“No. Not mi thin’. The whole... damn idea about marriage and shite? I dunno. Like... spending rest or yer life with the same person? Absolutely! Its just... Dont get mi wrong here! But the whole mess about marriage, and such.. It sounds so damn artificial. Do I wanna live with someone for the rest of mi years? Sure! But I dont need a fockin’ ring to prove it to anyone.. Then again.. If someone was to ask mi to marry her? Yeah, why not? If ya want a damn ring, lets get a damn ring!”

Kissed one of your friends?

“Shite... Well, yeah. About that... I have kissed many of mi friends actually.. And let mi tell ya. It always ends up into a fockin’ mess. One way or another! I... guess I should stop kissin’ mi friends..?”

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern? “You.. happen to know what Im doin’ for livin’? Yeah. Basically that.”

Ever told a lie?

“Just show me a fockin’ person who has not, and I’ll show ya a bastard who’s lying right there, on dat very damn moment! We all lie... Some more than others, but thats not the point, righto?”

Had feelings for someone you can’t have?

“Yeah... Ya remember I just told ya about kissin’ mi friends and shite? Well dat. I messed up real good. Like... the royal mess up! I still have feelin’s for her... Could rip mi damn heart out for her... But I think she just might be lost for mi for good... Im not giving up though! But as thin’s are.. What happened between us... Heck. It might be a lost fockin’ cause.”

Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

“Im... so very much a bean flicker, ya know? Never had interest in opposite sex... Does dat answer yer question?”

Kissed a picture? "No? Seven hells, why would I be suckin’ on some damn piece of paper?”

Slept until 5pm? “Im a night owl.. I wake up sometime durin’ the afternoon. So yeah. I will sleep until 5pm, if you dont come and wake mi up. Which is fockin’ annyin’ by tha way.. Just let mi sleep..”

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant “Nope.. And dont have a slightest interest in such! ...I would make a fockin’ horrible restaurant worker... Now this.. may sound rather miserable, but my current job is actually mi first real day job ever! ...Or well.. A night job? Anyway.. Yeah.”

Stolen something? “I would say... Try living on streets of fockin’ Limsa Lominsa for good 10 summers, and then... if yer still alive and kickin’, try asking yaself dat question! ...Yes. I have stolen for livin’.”

Been fired from a job? “As I mentioned just a moment ago, this is mi first day job ever... And I have been able to keep it so far! ... And Im about to keep it! I want to see the faces of every poor bastard, who ever said I could not get, let alone keep a job! And well... I actually kinda like mi job, so there’s also dat. And I get a decent money out of it.”

Done something you regret? “... Really? We need to go back to this again? I had.. a really bad week some time ago, ya know. I did.. lot of shite.. The whole thin’ is just.. so foggy in mi head, its annoyin’! But yeah. I think I almost slept with mi friend.. broke lot of stuff.. a damned heirloom notestand.. And in the end, I went and kissed another friend against her will... The... one I fockin’ love.. Damn, I miss her. But it was not mi damn fault!! I had just like the shittiest week ever! ... I dont know... Maybe some of it kinda was.. Can we just go on? I focked up, okai..?”

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose? “Nnno. Cant remember such thin’. Sometimes a drink has gone like... into mi nose for one or another reason... But actually out of it? I dont think so. Then again, who am I to say! One just cant remember everythin’ ya know?”

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? “No, I have not. Tha Shrimp does it, so.. technically I have? But as miself? No. I have not. On purpose at least.”

Sat on a roof top? “Used to do that in Limsa Lominsa. It was.. an awfully calming feeling, ya know? To get away from all the shite, going on down on the streets. Just... sit alone, watch the ships getting loaded.. Watch them sailin’ away. I dont do it anymore though.. The roofs in Ishgard are fockin’ slippery.”

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have? Iris gives the other a long, dead stare. “... Fockin’ really?! Didn’t I just told ya dat. Ya want some heckin’ details?! Right!  So, yes, I was wasted... I shouldn’t have to... And damn yes, it was foolish of mi! Silke. The gal I fancy.. Ya know the type that just... puts damn butterflies into yer tumtum.. rises yer head up to the fockin’ pink clouds faster than anythin’ ya can buy from the streets of Ul’dah.. A damn purdiful fockin’ lass... Damn best thin’ that ever happened to mi... And I focked it up by hecking going and kissing her! So... Ya happy with dis subject now, or are ya gonna poke dat infected wound some more? If so, Im done with dis...”

Sang in the shower?

“Ummm... No.”

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? “Pushed? I... dont think so! Thrown into water with mi clothes on though... Yes! And I tell ya now! That damn merchant had a heckin’ cart full of those apples! Most of dem would have gone on waste aniway! But nooo.. I get thrown into sea, for one damn apple! One apple!! And it was not even worth it. The apple was dry like Sagolii sand the merchant’s fockin’ muffin-hole was propably full of!”

Shaved your head? "Well, I did not!! Blacksoul did durin’ the time he fockin’ kept mi as his personal damn doll or somethin’.. So yeah! It is growin’ back now, but if it looks like a damn rake-raped crow’s arse to ya, its not my fault!!”

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? “I... dont know, actually! Not during mi time with her, no. We kiinda only had a fleetin’ moment though, so did not ‘ave like... too much time to make the lass cry! ... I guess she still believes mi to be dead though. So its possible she cried for mi presumed death in the hands of her husband’s underlin’s... I hope she did... Yeah.”

Shot a gun? “I did, yeah! Ya know... One of those Ishgardian ones. Loud... lot of smoke... A decent kick. Kinda like a bar night to live for! You know, Im actually even rather decent with guns.. Not my style, though.”

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? “You gotta be kiddin’ me!! ... Oh wait. Someone I shouldn’t? I dont think so... Seven hells, we heckin’ belong together!! ...She has just... yet to understan it... She will! Sooner or later... Hopefully sooner. Fock’s sake, I miss that silly gal and her nice ass...”

Have / had a tattoo? “Yeah, the one around mi eyes. I also have another one on mi thigh... Iris flowers and thorns... Four of dem. For four kinda important people in mi life. From which, I have actually lost... every single one... Fock’s sake, whats wrong with mi?!”

Liked someone, but will never tell who? “Nno. I have... some difficulties in the ‘never tell’-thingie. Im more of a... ‘tell too much’-type o’ person. But ‘ey! Kinda honesty is a good thing, right?”

Been too honest? “If bein’ too ‘onest means kiinda colorin’ the truth a little to make it hit on the mark better. Yeah. I guess so. I just may overact a bit time to time! But den again... Makes the truth more interestin’ huh?”

Ruined a surprise? “No, I hardly part-take in suprises in general...”

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? “Actually... No. I dont know!! Well, mi first girlfriend did, but did she totally mean what she said? Damn, I dont know... Considerin’ the fact she... most likely kinda sold mi out not too long after, it makes it heckin’ hard to believe anythin’ that ever crossed those sweet crimson lips of hers! I wonder why no-one has ever said it though... Im smokin’ hot!! ... So tell me. Am I beautiful..? Hm?”

Stalked someone? “If we call people watchin’ stalkin’ here, then Im damn guilty as a plague rat! But like... in the creepy wai? No! Why the heck would I do somethin’ like that. Dats just sick...”

Thought about murder? “If someone has just taken a royal shite on ya, sweet damn, thats reason enough to just shank the bastard, and scatter the innards into the sea! Most people are so fockin’ rotten though, I dunno if even damn fishies care for their foul organs... Could always make dem into a bagpipe and gift it to their family and friends... Maybe then they could actually get a taste of whut kinda shitebag they been hangin’ around with...”

How about mass murder?

“... Well, as dey say... Apple does not drop far from a tree, and sometimes those apples are rotten before dey hit the ground. So yeah. The last question in mind, why not?”

Cheated on someone? “No! Think anythin’ you want of mi, but Im fockin’ devoted!! ... Well, I have only had one relationship, that lasted for like... couple of months... But damn I was devoted... Up until she choose her husband over mi...”

Gotten so angry that you cried? “Happens time to time... Cryin’.. cleans the system, ya know. Just... Get into middle of nowhere, and scream yer lungs out!”

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? “... Im kinda doin’ that right now. Dey will be better off without me. She’s got her damn hero dere, taking care of her... Where does she even need mi anyway? Heck, we barely even knew eachother... ... I think Im better off without dem too.. Shite.. Dey were awfully nice towards mi though.. Do I really miss dem? ... Maybe. But it all went down in flames and bloody sheets, can we talk about somethin’ else?”

Thoughts about suicide? “Sometimes the road just rises up against you... I kinda understand it on some occasions! But overall? Kinda waste...”

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend? “Yes? That one mess I mentioned earlier? Ya payin’ attention to dis?”

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? “Used to... Especially in Limsa, it was kinda mi way to get over the holidays. Hated to see bastards walking around all merry and shite. So I drowned mi holidays in a glass. Last Starlight was different though.. Blacksoul kinda forced mi to stay sober over the holidays... Well.. Mostly sober... Dont ya go tellin’ the old goat, but I... I think I kinda liked it. The whole Starlight with Blacksoul and Gramps... I had never really celebrated it with anyone... As miself. Heck, I just wanted mi Silke to be there, heckin’ messin’ around... I wonder if she ever got mi gift...”

Tagged by wonderful @mai-takeda​!! 🌹 This was lot of fun..

Tagging @umbralich​ (Silke) @sharkycatsifoh​ @hangedemperor​ @kyrie-silverwings​ @under-the-blood-moonlight​ @alun-ura​ @isuke-ejinn​ @ishgard​ @torr-sceadu​ @lydha-lran​ @glorysworn​ @lavender-hemlock​ @kazexvoss​ @glorified-thieves​ @captainkurosolaire​ @illia-ast​ @thefreelanceangel​ @sdavi-kitanni​ @kitsune-kirei​ @violet-warder​ @desimirffxiv​ @unatobajhiri​ @gildedandgolden​ @eo-sul​ @robyn-sawyer​ @eitur​ & anyone who wants to do it! Cansider yourself tagged!