#even if they hadn't used it all and there was no reason for it to be plugged in in the first place they'd have debilitating anxiety

[wonderlandwalker]

Oh Captain, My Captain | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: James discovers a new kink

Content Warnings/Tags: smut, like a lot, mdni, established relationship,no use of y/n, basically porn with fluff, one (1) swear word, only slightly proofread

Word Count: 2.5k

A/n: Filth that I've had in my head for ages and finally spend all night writing because I'm dopamine deficient

James never really understood good luck charms, believing dedication and hard work were what always made the difference, but from the moment you had jokingly brought up being his, he’d been convinced. Because he loved having you at his games, even before you had started going out, at one point in the game or another he’d always try and spot you in the crowd, looking over the stands in search of you. And of course you were here today as well, but the moment he saw you in the crowds his heart dropped. He had to blink to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, because there you were, wearing his sweater. It was such a trivial thing, yet couldn’t stop himself from staring, staring at you and the way you were cheering the team on. The house colours had always suited you so well, you’d even borrowed his sweaters before, but this, this was nothing like that. This was his sweater, the one he had tossed down on his bed earlier, opting for his jersey instead, the one with his name embroidered on it, the one with the captain patch sewed on, and he was struggling to take his eyes off you. The only reason he ended up doing so was because Marlene quite literally knocked him back into reality as they crossed paths. It caused her to lose the quaffle she had been holding, further resulting in her telling him to ‘fucking focus’. 

Right; focus. This was the championship game against Hufflepuff, he had to focus. He was the team captain after all, he shouldn't be slacking about, but his mind simply kept wondering back to that title currently adorning you as well. It was like it had awoken something in him that was buried so deep down he hadn’t even known it was there himself, something so feral he hadn’t even known to look for it, but there it was, and it was only by some sort of miracle he hadn’t enswd screwing up the entire match, because they had, in fact, won. That it was a close call chalked he up as a problem for later. 

After a win he’d usually be ecstatic, running to meet up with his teammates as he’d land, spurring them on with cheer, but right now as his feet finally met the ground he simply went past everyone as he told them he had to go. He decided to take a beeline for the changing rooms, concluding he was in dire need of a long, cold shower. But as he felt the stream hit him, all he could think about was dragging you under the water with him, about letting his hands roam free against your every single curve. And the more he thought about it, the more he could almost feel it, feel how your clothes would stick skin tight to you, feel your red and gold painted nails scratch paths down his back.  He loved the marks you’d leave, would treasure them like his own private art collection. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more time to think about it as Frank knocked on the stall door, letting him know they were all headed back to the common room to celebrate. 

So he got dressed to head back to the castle as well. Maybe a walk with fresh air would clear his head. It wasn’t the thought itself that bothered him, he was used to those. What bothered him was their origin, because that was something new entirely. James was used to being so sickingly sweet in even the smallest of things that your friends once banned him from touching you for an entire weekend as punishment, which had been all too entertaining to everyone but him. He liked to gently coax you back onto his bed and make sure there wasn't a centimetre of your skin he hadn't touched. He’d pay close attention to every small change in your breathing, and he’d let his ears feast on the moans he’d etch from you. This wasn’t what was normally stuck on his mind after a big game, but somehow he couldn't think about winning margins if his life depended on it. The only thing stuck on his mind was you.

There you stood, in the middle of the room as he entered. You were surrounded by your friends, hands raised high with shot glasses in praise of tonight's victory. He wondered what your lips would taste like from the cherry vodka you’d like to drink, the liquor usually intoxicating both of you. And usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to go and find out, but something told him that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and this was not exactly the right place for that. So he silently slipped into the room, finding a table of drinks and getting himself a glass of fire whiskey that he drank as fast as he poured it.

As he went to stand next to you, placing his hand down onto your hip, you spun around to greet him, reaching up and kissing him before he could get himself to stop you. And when you pulled back he found himself chasing the feeling, chasing that something that tasted like more.

From that moment on, all he could do was stand there, zoned out, as he tried to listen to what everyone was saying, but all it was to him was background noise. He wondered if it would be considered rude to simply leave without saying a word, he wondered how much longer he had to stay for it not to be. But he suddenly got snapped back when heard a burst of cheers coming from his left side. And as he looked over he could see why, you were standing on one of the coffee tables with Marlene, dancing on top of it with her. As he tuned back in he heard Lay All Your Love on Me from Abba playing, he knew you could never resist this song.

Your hips were going along with it in a way he thought should be considered sinful. And as the chorus came to an end he coaxed you down next to him, catching you in his arms as you stumbled down. But before you could make another move he was prompting you towards the stairs, determined as he walked up to the dorm rooms with you. You weren’t used to seeing him so quiet, to how pensive he was acting. The silence in between you was so thick you didn’t dare break it either, not until you reached the bedroom and he closed the door behind you.

“James what’s going on-”

“You’re wearing my sweater.” It was more of a statement than anything else, and it made you unsure of how to respond, but not wanting to leave him unanswered with how solemnly he was staring at your face you did so anyway, even if it was just rambling.

“I thought it’d bring extra luck, I found it on your bed, I should've asked, I can go change-” 

But right then he stopped your spiralling immediately, pushing you further against the door, trapping you against it. “Don’t you dare take it off.” You could see the fire behind his eyes now, feel the dominance that was seeping off him tonight, and that’s when all of a sudden, for you, it made sense. It was new, sure, but it was obvious, and it made you wonder how far you could push him until he’d break. 

“So make me stop.” It was such a childish sentiment, but it did the trick. And you weren’t entirely sure how you had expected him to react, but James didn’t waste another second before he connected his lips with yours, clashing against you as he did.

It wasn’t the usual tender-hearted James you were used to, it was a fever dream rush of movement, and from the moment he got what he had been craving after all night, he was insatiable about it. He started to trail kisses down your neck, practically biting a path down to your chest, he let his hands palm over the back of your legs, he made his way over every part of you he could find quick access to. And so you weren’t surprised when he hoisted you up his body so he could walk down to the bed, throwing you down on it the moment he reached it.

He created only a small window of time when stripping himself of his shirt, grabbing your ankles to pull you closer, finding your lips once again. He didn’t let any further time pass before trailing his hands down over thighs, starting to feel how slick they already were as he got higher up.

“You like this don’t you darling, you like seeing me riled up?” His face was harsher than usual, clenched together from the self-control he had to keep all night, and it was certainly doing things to you. It didn’t take much longer for his fingers to find your clit, already rubbing circles onto it as he used his other hand to rid himself of his trousers. His gaze was still focused on you, watching you with more determination than you had ever seen in him before. You were looking back at him with hooded eyes, gasping as he mercilessly continued, your head falling back as you saw him free his cock. He was as desperate as you were, but he was clearly better at masking it, and you were about to plead as he gave you exactly what you wanted. He lined himself up, pushing all the way inside in one, fast, thrust.

There wasn’t a build-up, there wasn’t any hesitation as he simply pulled all the way out, before fully pumping himself back in, setting an agonisingly fast pace that you slowly started to get addicted to. And he keeps giving it to you for a bit longer before he abruptly stops. It makes you open your eyes again to see him, seeing the clogs turn through his eyes as he drops your legs from his grasp before bringing an arm under your back and flipping you so he’s lying on the bed. 

You already know exactly what he wants, anchoring yourself with a hand on his chest as you sit up, straddling him, sinking down onto him. This time you try and force your eyes to stay open, determined to see how his eyes roll to the back of his head, even though the pleasure is overwhelming you as well. As you start to move back and forth you can feel him even deeper than before, but you can’t quite set the same pace as him, and once his eyes find their focal point on you, when he roams his eyes over your figure and over the sweater you still had on, you can see his gaze turn dark again. His hands move from where they had settled just above your ass to find a firm grip on your hips instead, forcefully moving them to go faster, finding that same brutal pace from earlier. You can feel his muscles flexing at the action and the combination of it all is starting to turn your body numb from the pleasure, luckily for you, he’s learned to read you like a book by now.

“Let go for me, honey.” It’s a whisper, and you’re surprised at how clear you can hear it with how hazy everything else is right now. And as he feels you cumming a feral groan finds its way up from deep within his chest, and you didn’t know he could, but he starts to move even faster. The only thing your mind is capable of at the moment is to mumble pleas and moan his name like a mantra, you’re not sure how much longer you can take it but you don’t dare asking him to stop either. You can feel how close he is, how desperate he has become for the release. The muscles in his abdomen tense up, his jaw clenched impossibly tight and you recognize his rushed breathing pattern. He doesn’t make you wait much longer before you can feel him spilling into you, unending profanities and prayers of your name leaving him as he does.

And for the first time since you entered the room there is a moment of simply nothing, you relax to find a comfortable position laying down on him, tangling your limbs together on pure instinct. You could swear you zoned out for a minute or two, but now you can feel him trace patterns down your arm, a habit of his that could lull you right to sleep, but you know the night is still young. 

“You wanna head back down to celebrate your championship?” You’re sure your friends are in the middle of some muggle drinking game you’d easily be able to join, but James declines the offer.

“Sweetheart, this right here is reward enough for me” You know he means it too, that he’s made it back to his golden hearted self, but per usual, you can't help but taunt him

“Whatever you say, Captain.” The sarcasm in your statement is thick, but as you say it you can see his pupils expanding, his breathing becoming a bit more shallow as you feel him become hard again. He flips you over once more, caging you between his arms as he looks straight into your eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish darling” You’re pulling at his strings again, and you hadn’t done so on purpose, but you’re enjoying it immensely. 

“Oh I have every intent on finishing Jamie." At your words James ducks down into another heated kiss, moving one of his hands to finally take his sweater off you, a mischievous grin on his face as he trails his way down your body.

“As your Captain, I suppose I should help you with that.” You’d make another remark back if you weren’t already so lost in pleasure again. He’d made his way down to your cunt, eating you out with a fervor that made you moan out for him as your fingers found their way into his hair. The night was definitely still young, and as the party downstairs continued to drown out the noises you were making, you weren’t planning on making it end anytime soon either.

[rizsu]

the "losing all my innocence in the backseat" lyric is so geto waitttttt 😩

sneaky link geto who's like that guy who haunts the narrative of your love life

⢷ pepsi will never thrive without coca cola. (he ain't shit) geto suguru ꘟ fem-reader.

+ love, ‘su: PAUSE THE CHAT 🗣! geto would def stalk ur very much directed tiktok reposts and reply to them with “u miss me huh” (no beta #writtenassoonasigotthisask)

s-link!suguru who just wanted some quick comfort. he didn't need a nagging girlfriend who'd bother him about his whereabouts, certain messages, or even the not-so-hidden circular bruise at the side of his neck, a little under his ear.

in his eyes, you were — no, you are the perfect match for him. you're everything he's ever needed. you used him the way he used you; one and done. no more, no less. both equally needing the sense of relief and relaxation without pushing for deeper meaning.

s-link!suguru who obeyed the “no kissing” rule. to him, kissing is intimate — it's pure. the intentions of a kiss (in his view) are always romantic and genuine, two things that he's long been stripped of. he also avoided eye contact during the moment. it made him feel vulnerable, like he was ready to give up the persona and bask in your love.

again, you never opposed. if that's what he wants then sure. it's not like you were hoping for anything deeper. ignoring the sting in your chest, you often buried your head in the junction of his neck to shoulder — sometimes biting on his skin to deter yourself away from tears. you don't love him; it's just in the moment. that's all.

unlike what s-link!suguru believes, his friends collectively agreed that he's slowly falling in love. why else would he be aggressively tapping through your instagram stories? why would he swipe to reply with “who the fuck is that” if he isn't your boyfriend?

a monkey who doesn't see his own tail won't recognize his own mistakes, a saying his friends often preach — much to suguru's dismay. he doesn't know where it came from nor why they use it, but he's heard it from time to time.

the men can be heartless, but they have no tolerance for suguru intentionally hurting someone as sweet as you. you've met them, they met you, and s-link!suguru's hand never stopped lingering on your body. “not her boyfriend,” he said.

s-link!suguru eventually acknowledges that he's falling — head first, too. this is against every rule he laid out at the beginning of... whatever you two had going on. so, he didn't hesitate to slowly go no-contact with you.

it was easy to say the least. muting your chat, silencing your calls, skipping your posts — too easy. almost as easy as the first time you let him through your barriers. but he hadn't anticipate your immediate move on. when you finally confirmed that he's beginning to ghost you, you moved on.

did you jump relationships? no, but you did post more revealing outfits and “clubbing” stories.

his bottom lip suffered tremendous damage once he saw what you've been doing. is he angry? upset? jealous that you're in a dress he specifically pointed out that it'd “look hot on you” during a walk together?

it didn't take long before nailsbytrish457 kept viewing your profile. they were within the first few viewers. at first you were weirded out by it — a random account keeping daily tabs on you? time to private your profile.

for some reason, you didn't bother to private. instead, you were set on blocking the account and the other accounts it's attached to. your following count went down by 2. odd, right? why would su_geto be blocked as well if you only blocked nailsbytrish457?

s-link!suguru who gave up the non-existent fight and called you. he didn't care — you were going to deal with him whether you had the energy to or not. minutes into the call, arguing about the fact that he shouldn't be bothered until you hear a car pull up in your driveway.

baffled, you'd say “you're not fucking serious.”

he'd only reply with “open the door.”

in between the cursing, yelling, middle fingers being thrown up every now and then, you found yourself straddling his lap, digging your nails into his neck. you want to injure him — badly — but your mind can't seem to stop replaying the flashbacks you desperately tried to turn into lost footage.

s-link!suguru who cracks a cocky smile knowing he got his way, per usual. it's always like that. you know it too, but you can't seem to do anything about it. at least, he's a call (and an argument) away if you need him.

you're familiar with the warning that your love life will crumble if you don't get him out of the picture permanently, but how can you if he's so consistent yet irregular in your life? he's there, he's not. he's with you for a week, he's ghosting you the next.

a push and pull game you're too tired to care for.

andddd thats it bc im out of ideas 🧍🏽‍♀️ idk how situationships go i've yet to experience real romance in my life BYE. i literally stole my friends' experiences n stories for this #inspo #shoutouttotheirls

[doctorho]

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

[spiderb00]

I'm live - Sophia Laforteza

Sophia Laforteza X reader 

Synopsis: Being a streamer is fun, even more fun if your girlfriend shows up by surprise on your live. 

Genre: Fluff 

a/n: I had this idea while I was watching Tinakitten's live on Twitch, I love her, she's my favorite streamer 

English is not my first language so maybe I messed up a little and blablabla. <3 

Streaming on Twitch has always been very relaxing for me, just playing and connecting with people felt very enjoyable. I never imagined how big this would all become, when I started it was just for fun and now I have just over two thousand people watching me every time I turn on the camera. All of this has given me amazing experiences, including meeting my beautiful girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza.   

I met Sophia at a concert, specifically backstage at Olivia Rodrigo's concert, we talked a little and discovered many things in common. After a lot of talking we ended up exchanging phone numbers, going on dates, and before I knew it I was acting like a teenager with they first crush. 

At first we were very afraid that it wouldn't work. Sophia has tight schedules and seems to be everywhere all the time, but we quickly managed to unite our schedules and make everything fit perfectly 

We hadn't made our relationship public yet, so no one knew we were dating, except of course, our families and the Katz's. What happens is that a few days ago my chat noticed that there was a female voice speaking a little loudly in the middle of the live, which earned me several spams and donations where people asked who was with me at home and why I didn't show them on the live, given that all my friends had already appeared on camera at some point. 

Even though I said it was just a friend and trying my best to shift the focus to something else, my chat didn't seem to be very convinced, they were always making jokes about the "mysterious girl" in my kitchen, like at this very moment.  

"Chat, can't you just forget about it?" I said as I leaned back in my chair, resting my arms above my head to be more comfortable as I waited for all my friends to join the strange game that Foolish forced us to play. 

"What are you talking about dummy?" Tina, my friend, said when she heard me grumble about the chat.  

"The chat just being mean to me!" I said while making a sad voice, only to break laughing at the comments.   

Superglue2000 - We're Not Being Mean, We're Snooping 😊  

Bealovesyn – I'm trying to know who my wife is cheating on me with!!!

Cowboybibi – why did we never consider that it could be the voice of Tina? Yn and her seem very close... :/   

"Chat, what? Why are they putting Tina in this?" I said while laughing nervously.   

"Uh? Putting myself in what?" Tina said, her voice confused, she also seemed nervous about the situation. Tina and I are friends, neither of us wants things to get weird because of some speculation.   

"Guys, stop spamming Tina. She's never been in my kitchen." I said laughing, trying to give off an air of confidence, but I honestly think I was failing miserably.   

"Oh, that's crazy." Tina said laughing, I think she had already understood what was going on, she knew she wasn't involved in anything, so she had no reason to be afraid. 

Before I could say anything else, the door to my studio was opened, and there she was, in all her glory, my beautiful girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza.   

"Hey baby, I just arrived, I bought pizza on the way, do you want me to bring it to you?"  

Completely paralyzed, that's how I was. Without arguments and without knowing how to elaborate a word if you want. My only reaction was to whisper; 

"Baby, I'm live!"   

"I know beautiful, that's why I came here to ask if you want to eat, you've been there for a long time." Now, listen to me, despite the friendly tone, I know my Sophia, okay, I know my girl, and something's not right.  

"So yes, that's fine, thanks for asking."  

For the first time I had the courage to look at the chat.   

Spidermanmasc – Bro, you literally got a girlfriend, you dumped the losing nerds 

Cutekate – OMG, YOU REALLY HAVE SOMEONE! SHOW HER ON CAMERA!!  

Superglue2000 - Don't be shy miss, come and say hello...   

Eyekonswinning – this sounds crazy, but it sounds a lot like Sophia's voice??? 

"Well, now they're asking you to say hello..."  

Before I could complete my sentence and tell her that she didn't have to do it if she didn't want to, Sophia was already on my lap, appearing gracefully in the camera frame.   

"Hi guys, my name is Sophia, I'm Yn's girlfriend." The smile on her face seemed immense, I was completely paralyzed.   

Macaronechease – OMG, SHE'S SO BEAUTIFUL, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!  

Eyekonswinning – WHAT??? I KNEW THE VOICE WAS SIMILAR, BUT WHAT'S IT???? (You guys are very cute btw.)  

Superglue2000 – Your girlfriend is simply the leader of Katseye???

Spidermanmasc – like, and I say HOW DID YOU PULL THIS GIRL??? 

"Hey, what are you saying? I know my girlfriend is amazing, but you don't have to humiliate me." I said smiling. As unusual as all of this was, I was very happy with the positive comments.  

"Well, how about I go get the pizza and come see you play?" Sophia said as she looked at me, giving a quick kiss on my cheek before getting up and heading towards the kitchen.   

"Well... That was epic." Tina spoke, for a minute I forgot I was on the call.   

"Dude, how did you pull her???" It's literally the first sentence Foolish said on live.   

"Dude, shut up and let's play." 

After the live is over, Sophia and I are on the couch, relaxing.   

"So I love that we're public now, but I have to ask. Why did you decide to do this so unexpectedly?"  

"Because I love you, and I want everyone to know it..." She said as she gave me a long kiss.  

"And you're mine, no one will ship you with anyone other than me." she says grabbing my face with those huge nails.   

This woman is the death of me. 

[jetii]

By Your Name

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 11,228/18,183

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, unrequited feelings, love confessions, some kissing and heavy petting, smut in part 2

Summary: Ever since you were assigned to the squad, Wrecker has delighted in calling you pet names in Mando'a — an'edee, cyar'ika, mesh'la, the list goes on. Little does he know, you understand every single one of them, and it's starting to become a problem.

A/N: I wrote this months ago and got around to editing it recently and whoa, was not prepared for the sad. Sorry about that! This is mostly self-contained to part one, with part two being purely a smut add-on for my own amusement. I'll post that next week.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

You hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop face down in the dirt, your whole body aching. The ringing in your ears slowly subsides, and the sounds of battle come back in bits and pieces. The roar of blasterfire, the clatter of droids and metal feet, and crunch of tanks rolling over rubble. You groan and turn yourself over onto your back, coughing and trying to get the taste of dirt out of your mouth, just in time to see a droid bearing down on you, cannon aimed.

You try to move, but you’re completely winded. Your lightsaber was thrown from your grasp when you were sent flying, and it lay several feet away, taunting you with the idea of your own survival. You close your eyes and prepare for the worst, waiting for the searing pain of a laser bolt tearing through you

There’s the sound of metal tearing as a large hand grips the droid’s head and rips it clean off its neck, and your eyes fly open as the metal body falls to the ground in a clatter of lifeless metal, its head still in the hands of your savior.

You look up and meet Wrecker’s eyes, and he pushes his helmet up with the back of his hand to offer you a toothy grin, the droid head held aloft in the other. The relief at seeing him alive and well washes over you like a tide, and you can only manage a weak smile back, your ribs smarting from the impact of your fall.

"That was a close one!" he says, tossing the head away like a child throwing a ball for a dog. It pings off the chest of a droid advancing on the pair of you, sending the metal soldier careening backwards.

"A little too close for my liking," you wheeze, and you take his offered hand. Wrecker pulls you to your feet with ease, the motion tugging you close to his chest, and his arm wraps around you to steady you.

“You okay, cyar’ika?” he shouts over the sound of another tank exploding, a cloud of debris flying up and raining down around you in a shower of dust and smoke. You nod, the movement stiff and stilted, and you pray he doesn’t notice the flush on your cheeks at the use of that Mando'a word.

And that's the problem, isn't it? Cyar’ika, sarad, mesh’la, all the words he said to you in his native tongue, thinking you wouldn't know the difference. It made your heart race and your head spin, and the fact that you understood exactly what they meant only made it worse. It was like a secret between you two, one you weren't supposed to know.

The words made your heart do cartwheels, but the tone he said them in?

That was what was really going to kill you.

The soft way he said the words, the gentle, affectionate way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way his hand seemed to linger on your shoulder after pulling you back up from a fall, the way his smile made your knees weak... It all came together to paint a picture of how Wrecker felt. It was a picture that made your face feel warm and your throat dry, and it was one that was starting to drive you crazy.

It also drove you to distraction, so much so that you hadn't even noticed the AAT firing at you until you were flying through the air.

And now you're here, in Wrecker's arms, your heart beating fast for more than one reason. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping back, Wrecker's arm falling reluctantly from around your shoulders, and you give him a grin that's a little stronger this time.

"I'm alright, thank you!" you shout back. "We need to stop that tank!"

Wrecker nods, and the two of you turn to face the massive tank, which was slowly making its way through the city, demolishing everything in its path. The cannons swivel back and forth, destroying a building to your right, then to the left, then forward.

You call your lightsaber back into your hand, and it flies past Wrecker's head into your awaiting palm. You ignite the blade and glance at him, and he grins and cracks his knuckles before slamming his helmet back onto his head.

"Ready, cyare?"

Your breath catches in your throat. It wasn't the word you thought he'd use, but the endearment has the same effect. He doesn't seem to realize what he's said, and you decide not to bring it up.

You can think about it later. For now, you had a droid army to stop.

"Ready," you murmur.

Wrecker holds his hand out to the side, bowing his head in a courtly gesture. "After you."

You roll your eyes and step past him, and you feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck.

"Keep up, then."

It doesn’t get any easier.

You try your best not to let it affect your performance. You focus on the missions, on keeping your men safe, but Wrecker is always there, with a compliment or a gentle touch, and the feelings grow until they threaten to burst from your chest.

He does everything in his power to make you laugh, and every time he does, your stomach feels like it's doing backflips. He calls you pet names and winks at you, and your knees get weak. He smiles at you, and the world seems to get brighter.

He does everything he can to protect you, and you find yourself falling for him, hard.

And you can't let it show.

So you ignore the feeling, try to bury it deep inside, but you can feel it growing, day by day.

You have never wanted to tell someone how you feel so much, and yet you are absolutely terrified to do it. It's almost funny, really. You’ve stared down the barrel of a blaster a hundred times, fought dozens of battles, and yet this one man is the only one who can make your heart race.

But there's a difference. With the other things, you could always fight back, try to fix the situation. But how can you fight against feelings? How can you stop yourself from falling in love with the most wonderful person you've ever met?

You can't, and you know it.

Every night, you think about telling him, but every morning, the fear stops you. In the light of day, the idea of a Jedi and a clone being together is ridiculous. It's impossible, and you can't risk your career and his life for something so foolish. So, each time, you say nothing, and the words go unsaid, lingering between the two of you, a heavy weight that seems to follow wherever you go.

You try your hardest not to think about it, but it's like a constant buzzing, an annoying insect that's always in your ear, always nipping at your thoughts, always reminding you of something you don't want to deal with. It's dangerous, and distracting, and it makes you worry that someday, someone will find out.

And that's the most terrifying thing of all.

If the Council ever discovered what was going on between you, they would have no choice but to separate the two of you. The thought of never seeing him again fills you with a deep dread, and the knowledge that it could happen at any time drives you crazy.

Every time the thought comes to the forefront of your mind, you try to push it away, and the effort has become a daily struggle. The others have noticed your preoccupation, and have done their best to cheer you up, but even their good-natured attempts have become frustrating, the reminders of what you were trying not to think about grating on your nerves.

The only person who doesn't seem to notice is Wrecker.

It's ironic, really. It's Wrecker who causes all the trouble, and it's him who's oblivious to it. He doesn't know the effect his words have on you, and if he does, he doesn't acknowledge it.  Instead, he seems to be more affectionate, more playful, more himself than ever, and the more you try to push away your feelings, the harder they come crashing back.

It's like being caught in a riptide, unable to stop yourself from being pulled farther and farther out, no matter how much you struggle. You wish he would stop, wish he would just back off and let you think, but a part of you doesn't want him to. A part of you wants this, wants him, and it's slowly consuming the rest of you.

The only thing that keeps you sane is the knowledge that you will have to return to Coruscant soon, and that when you do, you can go back to the Order, and put the distance between you that you sorely need.

You can't hide anything from the Council. The Force is your ally and enemy, and it shows you exactly how they would react if they ever found out about you and Wrecker.

Dismissal. Disapproval. Disdain.

All things you're not ready to face, and the sooner you're separated, the better. That thought, the idea that you won't have to see Wrecker every day, helps to soothe your anxiety, and, despite the guilt and sadness it brings, you look forward to the mission ending.

The sooner you can distance yourself from him, the easier it will be.

At least, that's what you tell yourself.

You have no idea how wrong you are.

The tunnel network on Akiva is a mess, a winding labyrinth of tunnels and dead ends. The six of you have been trying to navigate them for hours now, and it's starting to take its toll. You've lost the trail of the tactical droid you're hunting multiple times, only to pick it up again an hour later. Your patience is wearing thin, and the squad is getting restless. You're all tired and hungry, and the dim, flickering lights of the tunnels are giving you a headache.

"How many turns have we made?" Crosshair asks, his voice echoing in the narrow tunnel. He's leading the pack with Hunter, whose trying his best to keep up with the trail, though it's growing colder by the minute.

"I...have lost count," Tech admits bitterly, squinting at the holographic map of the tunnels displayed on his datapad. "Perhaps we should have split up, that would have made the task—"

"Not happening," Wrecker cuts in, his voice firm.

"I wasn't finished," Tech snaps.

"Yeah, but you were gonna suggest splitting up," Wrecker says, "and that ain't gonna happen. We're all staying together."

"Tech, if we split up, we might lose each other," Hunter adds, his voice strained as he concentrates. "This trail is difficult enough to follow as it is. I don't need the distraction of trying to find a missing man on top of it."

Tech opens his mouth to reply, but stops when he catches your eye, and you give him a subtle shake of your head. He sighs and nods, looking back down at his datapad. "As always, the logical course of action is the least popular," he mutters.

Hunter snorts, but says nothing, and you and the rest of the group continue down the tunnel. You trail behind the group, trying to keep your frustration in check, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, and you glance back to see Wrecker fall into step next to you, a small smile on his face.

"Hey," he says softly, and you can't help but return the expression. You realize what you're doing and try to school your features, but the damage is already done, and Wrecker's smile widens.

"Hi," you murmur.

"You holding up okay?" he asks.

You nod, the movement stiff. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Cause you look like you're ready to kill someone."

You grimace and glance ahead, where the others were slowly disappearing from view, and you lower your voice. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"Ain't that the truth," Wrecker mutters.

"This is a mess," you sigh, glancing around the cramped, dimly lit tunnel. "We're not gonna find anything at this rate."

He shrugs, and his elbow nudges yours gently. "It'll be alright, cyar'ika. We'll find him."

The affectionate word is like a bucket of cold water thrown over your head, and your heart skips a beat. You swallow hard, and nod, hoping he can't see the flush on your cheeks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause we're the best there is," Wrecker says. His arm brushes yours as the pair of you walk, and his fingers bump yours. He pulls his hand back quickly, but not before his fingertips brush against the back of your hand, and you can't suppress the shiver that runs through you. "And we have the best General in the galaxy."

"Stop," you groan, the tips of your ears burning. "I'm not the best. I've gotten us lost three times today, Wrecker. Three. If I was a better General, I would have found this stupid droid by now."

"Hey," he murmurs. "It's not your fault."

You keep your eyes on the ground, but his hand comes up and his fingers brush the back of yours. Your hand twitches, but you don't move, and his thumb runs gently over the back of your hand. You're too distracted by his touch to notice that the group had stopped walking, and it's only when Hunter speaks that you snap back to reality.

"Guys, we've got a problem."

You and Wrecker stop short, and you pull your hand from his quickly, ignoring the way his face falls. You glance up and see the other clones gathered around the entrance to a large cavern, their backs turned to you.

"What's wrong?"

Crosshair steps aside to allow you to join the group, and his eyebrow arches as his eyes flicker between you and Wrecker, a smirk crossing his face. You pointedly ignore him, and he shakes his head before returning his attention to the task at hand.

"Dead end," Hunter says.

"I don't understand," Tech murmurs. He steps forward to scan the walls and floor of the cavern with his datapad, and Echo peers over his shoulder. "According to the map, this tunnel should continue on, not stop at a room."

"Well, clearly it does," Crosshair snarks as he moves past you into the cavern. "Or are we supposed to climb the wall?"

"The structural integrity of these walls is poor," Tech replies. "Climbing would only serve to bring the ceiling down upon us."

"Then how are we supposed to get through?" Echo asks, and you bite your lip, the wheels turning in your mind.

Crosshair's flashlight pans over the walls and floor, illuminating the room, and it's then that you see the marks in the dirt. Footprints, dozens of them, some large, some small. Hunter crouches down and brushes the prints, and he frowns and pulls his glove off, running his fingers along the floor.

"These are fresh," he murmurs.

"So are these," Echo says. He and Crosshair are crouched by the far wall, examining a patch of disturbed dirt. You move to take a step forward when a chill runs up your spine, and you freeze, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Something is wrong.

You feel it, the air becoming thick with danger. Your muscles tense, your hands clenching at your sides, and the others must sense it, too. They rise to their feet and turn to you, their weapons ready, and the only sound is the distant dripping of water and the soft whirring of Tech's datapad.

"What is it?" Hunter whispers, his voice barely audible, but you can't answer. Your eyes dart around the cavern, searching for the threat. There's no cover in the room, nowhere to hide, and it's making your skin crawl.

"I don't know," you whisper back.

Suddenly, the ground beneath your feet starts to sha, and the men shout in alarm as the shaking gets worse. Dust falls from the ceiling, and you scramble backwards, trying not to fall as the walls start to crumble.

"Go! Go!" Hunter shouts, and the group bolts for the tunnel. You trip on a stone, and the ground cracks and splits open, swallowing the rocks whole. Wrecker grabs you and pulls you to your feet, and the pair of you race after the others, the cavern falling apart around you.

"This isn't natural!" Tech shouts, and he ducks as a rock flies towards him, missing him by inches. "The droid must have set charges!"

"Doesn't matter! Just keep moving!" Hunter yells.

There's a loud roar, and the ceiling comes crashing down. You barely have time to throw up your hands before the weight of the cave-in hits you, and your arms tremble with the effort of holding it up. Ahead of you, the others shout, but the dust and rocks muffle the sound. Your knees buckle, and the rubble starts to push down on you, your back bowing.

No, no, no, no...

The rocks shift, and your hands slip, and the ceiling starts to come down again, and all you can think is that you're not ready, not ready, not ready—

There's a flash of black, and suddenly Wrecker is diving towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and the two of you are thrown to the side, out of the way of the falling rocks. He wraps himself around you, his broad shoulders protecting your head, and the pair of you hit the ground hard as the rest of the cavern collapses.

The impact knocks the wind from your lungs, and you're left gasping for breath, unable to move as the cave-in rages around you, the sounds of the others muffled by the rocks. After what feels like an eternity, the noise and movement ceases, and silence settles in, save for the soft tumble of stones.

Your eyes fly open, and you're greeted with darkness. It takes a moment for them to adjust, and you blink away the grit, a shudder running through you. Your limbs feel heavy, and it's only then that you notice the crushing weight on top of you. You can feel the hard edge of plastoid digging into your chest, something softer cradling your head, and Wrecker's heavy breathing fills your ears.

"Wrecker?" you rasp.

His body moves against yours, and his helmet buried in the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling as he pants for air.

"Yeah?"

"Are...are you okay?"

He laughs, a soft, wheezy sound, and his grip around you loosens, his arms pulling back, allowing the air to return to your lungs.

"Am I okay? I should be askin' you that!"

You laugh, the sound coming out as a half-sob, and you feel his hand cup the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair. "What...what happened?"

"You almost got crushed," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Had to get you outta there."

You blink rapidly, trying to get the dust out of your eyes, and the dim light illuminates his form. He's curled around you, his body protecting yours, and his arms are still holding you tight, one wrapped around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, his fingers gently stroking your hair.

"Oh," is all you can manage.

"Yeah," Wrecker chuckles, and his grip tightens. "'Oh' is right."

"How did you...?"

"I dunno," he mutters, and his chest rumbles with his words. "I just knew I had to get to you, no matter what."

"Well, thanks."

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. His hand is large enough to cradle your entire head, and his thumb gently strokes the skin of your neck. You're suddenly hyper-aware of the feeling of him pressed against you, the weight of him, the warmth, the smell of metal and dirt and sweat, and you can't help the way your face heats up.

Your hand pushes at his chest plate, and his grip on you loosens. "Uh, we should—"

"Right!" Wrecker exclaims as his arms unwrap from around you. "Sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay!"

"I shoulda let go sooner," he babbles, and you can hear the flush in his voice. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," you assure him, and you sit up, wincing at the aches and pains in your body. You can hear him move beside you, his armor scraping the floor as he stands, and a moment later, a gloved hand appears in front of your face.

"Need a hand?"

"Thanks," you say, and Wrecker helps you up. The pair of you stand for a moment, listening to the silence around you. The room is dark, the only illumination coming from the narrow gaps in the stones above you, and the occasional shift sends dust falling from the ceiling.

“—al…Wrecker! Are you alright?" Hunter's voice crackles through the comms, the sound distorted by static.

"I'm okay," Wrecker replies, stepping back a little as he activates his comm. He pauses and glances down at you, and his head tilts slightly, like he's looking you over.

"What is it?" you ask, and Wrecker hesitates, his fingers brushing yours.

"You sure you're alright, cyar'ika?"

The endearment is like a slap to the face, and you blink rapidly, taken aback.

"I'm fine, thank you," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Wrecker doesn't seem convinced, and his fingers curl around yours. "You don't sound fine."

"I am."

"Really?"

"Yes, Wrecker," you snap. "I'm fine."

"Wrecker, report!" Hunter's voice demands, and Wrecker pulls his hand from yours and activates his comm again.

"We're okay," he says. "Me and the General."

"Thank the Maker," Hunter replies. "What happened?"

You let Wrecker answer while you try to calm yourself, your heart pounding against your ribs. It's just a word, you tell yourself, and yet the knowledge that he was willing to put himself in harm's way, risk being crushed by the rocks just to get to you...

You're not sure how much more of this you can take.

"Is anyone injured?" you ask, cutting off Wrecker mid-sentence.

"No," Hunter replies. "A few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

"Good," you say. You walk toward the wall of rubble, reaching out with the Force and testing it, searching for a way out. There are gaps here and there, large enough for a person to fit through, but the amount of debris is daunting, and you know that without tools, the task would take hours.

"Well, this is a karking mess," Crosshair grumbles, speaking your thoughts aloud.

“You can say that again,” you say. “We’ll try to dig our way out, but it might take a while."

“Negative,” Tech’s voice cuts in immediately. “This tunnel system is too unstable. Any further attempts to excavate the debris could result in further cave-ins, which could cause catastrophic structural damage.”

You sigh, leaning your head against the rocks. "So we're stuck?"

"It would appear so," Tech replies, and you can practically hear him grimace.

“What are your orders, General?” Echo asks. You can tell by the sound of his voice that he knows what you’re about to say, but the question still makes your stomach twist. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but the feeling of the walls closing in is growing, and the anxiety is starting to become overwhelming.

"You're going to have to leave us," you say softly.

The words are met with a chorus of protests, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the noise. Behind you, Wrecker has fallen silent, and his eyes are burning into the back of your skull, his presence looming, waiting.

"You'll be walking blind," Hunter argues. "Without Tech, you could get lost."

"Or crushed," Crosshair snarks.

"It's dangerous," Echo adds.

"It is," you reply. "But we can't stay here. We need to find the tactical droid, and the longer we wait, the colder the trail gets. So get moving. That's an order."

There's a moment of silence, then: "Copy that."

“May the Force be with you,” you reply, and you turn off your comm and close your eyes.

The silence seems deafening after the sound of the voices, and you stand there for a moment, collecting yourself. You can still feel Wrecker behind you, and his presence is as comforting as it is suffocating. You take a deep breath and steel yourself before turning to face him, and you offer him a small smile.

"Ready to get outta here?"

He doesn't reply, and his gaze is so intense that it makes your skin crawl. You clear your throat and glance away, and when you look back, he's still staring.

"Wrecker?"

"You really think they're gonna leave us here?"

"They don't have a choice," you say gently. "And neither do we."

He grunts, but says nothing, and he turns away to scan the rubble, the flashlight on his helmet casting eerie shadows on the walls. You watch him as he walks the perimeter of the cave, and it's not until he's made his third trip around the space that he speaks again.

"There's a gap over here," he calls, and you cross the cavern to join him.

He's right; the rocks have formed a tunnel, large enough for you to crawl through, and when you peek through the other side, the tunnel stretches on for several meters, the walls and floor clear of debris.

"Well, at least we have somewhere to start," you murmur.

"I'll go first," Wrecker offer, and he drops to his knees and crawls into the opening, his wide shoulders brushing the stone. You follow close behind, crawling over the jagged rocks, and when you reach the other side, Wrecker grabs your arm and helps you stand.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the pair of you turn and shine your lights down the tunnel. It stretches on ahead of you, twisting and turning, the path vanishing around a corner.

"When I get my hands on that droid..." Wrecker growls.

"If I don't get to it first," you mutter, and the two of you set off down the tunnel.

It's slow-going, with the two of you constantly checking for traps or pitfalls, and the longer you walk, the more nervous you become. It's too quiet, and the tension between you and Wrecker is thick, like an unspoken word lingering in the air.

You've been trying to think of something to say, but every time you open your mouth, your throat dries up, and the words die on your tongue. Every time, you convince yourself to tell him how you feel, and how you can't deal with his attention, his affection, but each time, your nerves get the better of you, and you lose the courage.

After a while, you turn and glance back at him, and his gaze is locked on you, his head tilted.

"What?" you ask, and the word is sharper than you intended, but the tension is starting to make your skin itch.

"Nothin'," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, and you sigh and look ahead again, trying not to think about his eyes on you.

"Stop looking at me like that," you grumble.

"Like what?" he asks, his voice low.

"I don't know," you say, your frustration getting the better of you. "Just...just stop."

He falls silent, and you bite the inside of your cheek, the guilt starting to eat at you. It's not his fault, you remind yourself. You're the one who has the problem. He's doing what he always does, and it's driving you insane, and he has no idea, and it's not his fault, it's yours.

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"No, no, it's okay," he replies. "I'll...I'll try not to stare."

You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you swallow the lump in your throat. It's not his fault, it's yours.

"Thank you," is all you manage to say.

Silence settles in again, and the two of you continue on, your footsteps echoing off the walls. Wrecker keeps his promise and doesn't look at you, and it only makes the tension worse, the distance between you yawning wider.

It's hard to see anything in the dark, and the tunnel seems endless. The walls are crumbling, and the ceiling is low, and every time the stone shifts, you're afraid the tunnel will collapse on you, and that'll be the end of the Jedi and her trooper, crushed in the tunnels on Akiva. It's not the way you expected to go out, but you suppose it could be worse.

It's not a very Jedi-like thought, and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind. The exhaustion is starting to creep up on you, the long day finally catching up, and you're not sure how much longer you can stay focused.

"You okay, mesh'la?"

Wrecker's voice, soft and low, catches you by surprise, and you glance up to see him watching you, his head cocked. You're not sure what's worse, the fact that he can see right through you, or the fact that he's still calling you those names.

"Fine," you lie, turning away so he can't see your face. "Just tired." 

"We can stop if you want," he offers. "Rest for a bit."

"No," you say, forcing a laugh. "I'll be fine. We need to keep going." 

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he replies. "But tell me if you need to stop."

You nod and walk a little faster, leaving him behind. The sound of his footsteps behind you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and it takes all your self-control not to turn around.

You need the distance.

The longer the two of you are together, the closer you feel to him, and the closer you feel to him, the harder it will be to say goodbye. And if the way he looks at you, the softness in his voice when he speaks, the gentle brush of his hand against yours is anything to go by, Wrecker isn't planning on leaving your side anytime soon.

The thought makes your heart swell, but you push it down, ignoring the longing it brings. You can't get attached. You can't let him get attached. It's not fair to either of you.

Wrecker's hand finds your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is firm, but not painful, and his fingers gently squeeze, pulling you back a step.

"Cyar'ika, slow down," he murmurs. "Don't go runnin' off."

"Sorry," you mutter, and his thumb runs over your shoulder.

"S'okay. Just be careful."

He doesn't release you, and his grip stays on your shoulder, his thumb running gently over the fabric of your robes. You should pull away, should shrug his hand off, but his touch is comforting, and you can't help but lean into it.

"I will."

You don't move, and his fingers stroke your shoulder, the motion slow and rhythmic.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that," he says. "There's something bothering you. I can tell."

"It's nothing, Wrecker," you say, and this time, your words are firm. His grip on your shoulder tightens, not painfully, just enough to make his presence known. "Everything's fine."

"You can talk to me, y'know," he says, and the gentleness in his voice makes your throat close up. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

You stare at him, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You can't do this right now. You can't handle his concern, his kindness, his affection.

"I said I'm fine," you say, your voice tight. "Just drop it, Wrecker." 

He stares at you for a moment, then his hand slips from your shoulder and falls to his side. 

"Okay," he says flatly. "I'm sorry."

You want to reach out and grab him, pull him back and apologize, but you can't. You can't even bring yourself to say anything, to explain yourself. You just watch him as he walks away, and the distance between you feels like a chasm. He's only a few steps away, but it might as well be miles.

You stand there, frozen, for what feels like an eternity, before finally you turn and start walking again. The silence is unbearable, but there's nothing you can do. You're trapped, with nowhere to go, and the man you care about most is walking away from you. It's a helpless, hopeless feeling, and you can't shake it. But you have to keep moving, so you do.

At some point, Hunter checks in and lets you know they're close to finding the T-1, but the knowledge does little to ease the pain in your chest. You keep walking, pushing yourself as fast as you can, but it doesn't seem to make a difference. The darkness, the silence, and the weight of your emotions seem to swallow you whole.

Wrecker doesn't seem to be faring much better. He keeps casting glances your way, and his posture is tense, his steps heavy. You know he wants to talk to you, but the words won't come. So you both suffer in silence, each step feeling like a betrayal, and the air is thick with things left unsaid.

When the two of you finally reach the end of the tunnel, the sun has started to set, casting the world outside in shades of orange and gold. The entrance opens into a field, the long grass swaying in the wind, and the sky is a vibrant shade of purple. It's a welcome relief from the stifling confines of the tunnel, and the sight of the sky is enough to make your heart ache.

I never want to be underground again, you think, and you take a deep breath, relishing the taste of the air. Beside you, Wrecker does the same, ripping off his helmet and sucking in a deep lungful of air.

"Fresh air," he groans. "I love fresh air."

"Me too," you murmur.

His head turns, and he smiles. "Glad we're outta there, cyar'ika?"

The affectionate word is enough to ruin the mood, and you glance away. "Yes. Glad."

"Good," he replies. His voice is soft, and when you look up, he's staring at you, his eyes searching your face. You want to look away, to avoid his gaze, but his eyes are like a magnet, drawing you in.

"Wrecker—"

"There you are!"

The sound of Hunter's voice startles you, and you tear your gaze away from Wrecker's to find the rest of the squad running towards you. Tech has his datapad in his hand, and his eyes are bright with triumph.

"I have good news," he says. "The tactical droid is—"

"Dead," Crosshair interrupts, and he tosses something at you. You reach up and catch the object, and the metal is still warm from Crosshair's grip. It's the head of a tactical droid, its expression fixed in a permanent nonplussed grimace, the red light behind its eyes extinguished.

"How...?"

"Hunter ripped it apart," Echo explains.

"I didn't like the way it was talking," Hunter mutters, and his shoulders shift uncomfortably.

"So, that's it, then?" Wrecker asks.

"Yep," Echo says. "Mission's done."

"Then let's go home," you sigh.

The men cheer, and the squad gathers around, jostling each other playfully. You smile at the display, and the weight on your chest starts to lift. You're free, the mission's over, and everything is going to go back to normal. It's a relief, and yet...

Your gaze wanders, and your eyes find Wrecker, and your chest aches. His expression is bright, a grin splitting his face, but his eyes are dark, and his smile doesn't reach them. Your hand tightens around the droid's head, and the guilt is almost unbearable.

It's better this way. You remind yourself. Safer. For both of us.

You can't risk the Council discovering what's been going on. If they ever found out, the repercussions would be disastrous. The thought of the men being punished for something that's your fault makes your stomach turn, and the idea of losing them, of never seeing Wrecker again...it's too much.

So you put on a smile and try not to think about the future, try not to think about what's waiting for you, the distance that will grow between you, the way you'll feel when the time comes to say goodbye.

The six of you pile into the ship, and Tech takes the controls, lifting the ship off the ground and flying into the evening sky. The takeoff is bumpy, and the ship groans under the strain, but eventually, you're in the air.

All you want to do is hide in your bunk, but there's a debrief to be done. Hunter is giving his report, and you're trying to pay attention, but all you can think about is the look on Wrecker's face.

You can't get it out of your head, and it's starting to drive you crazy. He was so happy when you got out of the tunnel, and now he looks like he's in pain, and you're the cause. You hate yourself for it, but the fear is still there, lingering, a constant reminder of the dangers that await you, and it's enough to make you stay away.

"We made it out with a few scrapes, but nothing too bad," Hunter finishes. He turns his head, looking between you and Wrecker. "What about the two of you?"

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die on your tongue, and the silence grows. All eyes are on you, and the longer you wait, the more concerned the men become. You look at Wrecker, hoping he'll say something, but he doesn't. He's staring at the floor, his shoulders tense.

"Uh, we're fine," you reply, and the words feel like glass. "No injuries. We're...we're good."

Wrecker scoffs and pushes himself out of his seat, stalking out of the cockpit. You watch him leave, a knot forming in your throat.

"That's odd," Tech murmurs, his eyes following Wrecker.

"Yeah," Hunter mutters. He shakes his head and sighs, then follows Wrecker, leaving you alone with the others

Crosshair raises an eyebrow and turns to look at you, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Well?"

"What?"

"You really expect us to believe that?" he asks, his tone mocking. "You're a terrible liar, General."

You glance between him and Echo, and both of them are staring at you, their expressions unreadable. You swallow hard and force a laugh, shaking your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"If there was nothing to tell, Wrecker wouldn't be sulking," Echo points out.

"And you wouldn't be sitting here looking like you're about to throw up," Crosshair adds.

"I am not," you argue.

"Oh, please," Crosshair snorts. "It's written all over your face."

"It's pretty obvious," Echo says, his voice gentler than Crosshair's. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head and rise to your feet. "Nothing."

"We're not gonna leave this alone," Crosshair calls after you.

"We're worried about you," Echo adds.

"Fine," you say, trying not to sound as defeated as you feel. "Worry. It doesn't matter. We'll be on Coruscant soon, and then I won't be your problem anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Echo asks, his voice sharp, but you ignore him and keep walking. You can hear them arguing, their voices rising, and the words they're throwing at each other make your stomach churn. You keep your head down and keep walking, but before you can reach the bunks, you see Hunter and Wrecker. They're standing in the middle of the hallway, their backs to you, and Hunter's hand is on Wrecker's shoulder.

"—just give her some space," Hunter is saying.

"But she's—"

"She's fine," Hunter cuts in. "She just needs some time to herself. You've been a little clingy, and she needs a break."

Wrecker's shoulders stiffen, and the hurt in his voice is palpable. "Is that what she told you?"

"Well, no," Hunter says slowly. "But—"

"Then how do you know?" Wrecker demands, pulling away. "How do you know that's what she wants? How do you know she doesn't..." He trails off, his voice thick, and he turns, and his eyes land on you. The two of you stare at each other, the space between you charged with emotion, and when he speaks again, his words are quiet, and heartbreaking. "...want me?"

"She's a Jedi," Hunter says softly. "They don't...feel those kinds of things."

Wrecker stares at you, his expression open, the longing on his face so plain, so obvious, that your knees feel weak. You can't take it anymore. You turn away, ducking into the refresher and locking the door behind you

The room is silent, the air still. There's no sound but the pounding of your heart, the blood roaring in your ears. You lean against the door and slide to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees.

You know what you have to do, but the idea is terrifying, the thought of saying goodbye to Wrecker too painful to bear. But he's hurting, and it's because of you. You can't put him through that, not any longer. He deserves better. He deserves someone who can be with him, can give him the affection he deserves, not a cowardly Jedi who can't handle the consequences of her actions.

The realization hurts more than you thought it would, but there's nothing you can do. You've known all along that this would have to end someday, and that someday has come.

The only thing you can do is let him go.

The next day passes in a blur, and the tension is thick in the air. Wrecker doesn't say a word, doesn't look at you, doesn't acknowledge your presence, and you're grateful for it. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and the others are quick to pick up on the change. They cast furtive glances at each other, their concern growing, and their efforts to cheer you up only make the situation worse. You'd much rather they focus their attentions on Wrecker, so you avoid all of them as best you can. 

It's easier this way. Safer. Less painful. 

And maybe, if you keep telling yourself that, you'll start to believe it.

Once you land on Kashyyyk to refuel, the five of them disappear into the village, leaving you alone to meditate. It's the one thing that can help you clear your mind, and you welcome the chance to relax.

The ship is silent, the hum of the engine the only noise, and the quiet helps soothe the ache in your chest. You close your eyes and settle onto the floor, clearing your mind and reaching out with the Force.

When you were a youngling, you were told that the Force was your ally, and you believed it. Now, you know better. The Force doesn't take sides. It simply is. It exists in everything, every living thing, and sometimes, when you meditate, you can feel it. It's a gentle brush against your senses, like a soft caress, and you let yourself sink into the feeling, allowing it to envelop you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade away.

That's why, when you hear the sound of someone approaching, you're startled, and your eyes fly open. You frown, remembering Hunter saying he'd comm you when the others were headed back. It's more than likely Tech sneaking away from the group to tinker with the ship, and so you stand, turning towards the sound.

What you see instead, however, makes your blood run cold. 

Wrecker is standing at the top of the ramp, his form silhouetted by the light outside, his eyes burning into you. You're frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think. All you can do is stare at him, trying to make sense of the expression on his face, but all you can see is anger, and your heart sinks.

"What's going on?" he asks. His voice is low, but there's an edge to it, and his shoulders are stiff.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about the way you've been acting," he says, stepping further into the ship. "Ever since we left Akiva, you've been avoiding me. Why?"

"I haven't been avoiding you," you lie, turning away from him.

"Like kriff, you haven't!" he exclaims, and you flinch, the anger in his voice catching you off guard. "I've tried to talk to you, and you walk away! You won't even look at me!"

"That's not true," you argue. "I'm always—"

"Yeah, it is," he snaps. "You think I don't notice, but I do. You're always running away, avoiding me. Why? Just tell me why. Talk to me. Please."

"Wrecker..."

"Don't say my name like that," he pleads, his voice cracking. "Don't push me away. Please, cyar'ika, I need to know what's going on."

The endearment sends a jolt through your system, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to cry. You've spent the past twenty-four hours doing nothing but thinking about this, trying to steel yourself for what's to come, and yet here he is, begging for answers, and you're not ready. You can't bring yourself to say the words, can't bring yourself to push him away, but if you don't, it will only get harder.

"Please," he whispers. "What did I do? How did I hurt you?"

You can't look at him, but you can't ignore him, either. The last thing you want is for him to think any of this is his fault, and so you force yourself to turn, your eyes meeting his, and your resolve breaks.

"You didn't," you murmur. "It's not your fault, I promise."

"Then tell me what's wrong," he pleads, and his voice is soft, and the desperation in it is enough to break your heart. "Tell me what I can do to fix this."

Wrecker reaches out and takes a step towards you, his hand outstretched, but the gesture is hesitant, almost as if he's afraid to touch you. When you don't move away, he steps closer, his fingers brushing the hem of your sleeve. His gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours, and the ache in his voice is enough to make you want to scream.

"I'm not good at this," he admits. "This...talking stuff. I never know what to say, and I'm sorry. If I made you uncomfortable, or did somethin' wrong, I'm sorry."

"Wrecker..."

"I just want to make things right," he whispers, and his fingers curl around your sleeve. "Just tell me how, and I'll do it. I'll fix it."

He's so earnest, so sincere, and the guilt is crushing. You can't lie to him, not anymore. Not when he's looking at you like this.

"It's not that simple," you say, and the words feel like lead in your mouth.

"Why not?" he asks, his voice raw.

"Because," you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "Because I can't do this anymore, Wrecker. I can't..." You trail off, the words dying on your tongue. You can't bring yourself to say them, can't bring yourself to end things like this. But it's too late. He knows.

He drops his hand, and the look of pain on his face is almost enough to break your heart.

"Do what?" he asks, his voice shaking.

"This," you say, gesturing between the two of you. "Whatever this is. I can't keep pretending that I don't know what you mean when you call me those names. I can't keep acting like it's nothing, because it's not." 

Wrecker stumbles back a step, eyes wide.

"You knew?" he asks, and his voice is barely audible. "This whole time...?"

"Of course I knew," you say, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. "You think I could have missed it?" You try to laugh, but it comes out as a choked sob. "You're not exactly subtle, Wrecker."

"Oh," he says, and the single word holds a world of hurt. He turns away from you, his hands curling into fists at his sides, and the tension in the air is palpable. A heavy silence settles in, and when he speaks again, his voice is a hoarse whisper.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"I couldn't," you say, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I...I liked it too much."

"What?" Wrecker turns, his head snapping around to face you, and his expression is torn between hope and horror.

"You heard me," you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. You turn away, but his hand finds your chin, gently tilting your face back to his. The heat of his palm burns into your skin, his touch so gentle, and your heart leaps into your throat.

"Then why are you doing this?" he asks, and the words are barely audible. "If you like it, why are you trying to push me away?"

You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. It's a good question, and one you're not sure you can answer.

"Because," you start, and then trail off. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from yours, and the pain in his eyes is overwhelming. "Because I'm not meant for this. For us." You motion between the two of you. "I have a duty. A responsibility. I can't...I can't give you what you want. What you deserve."

"But I don't want anyone else,�� Wrecker says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I just want you."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you close your eyes, trying not to cry. You can feel the warmth of his body, the weight of his hand, the scent of him surrounding you. You want to pull away, to run and hide, but the way his hands cradle your face, the gentleness in his touch, makes it impossible.

"You don't mean that," you whisper, the words like poison. "You can't. I'm a Jedi. You know what that means. You know what my life is. I can't give you anything, Wrecker. I can't even be there for you. I can't..."

"Stop," he whispers. 

His hands drop, moving to your shoulders, and he turns you, pulling you closer. You let him, and his arms wrap around you, his forehead resting against yours. The touch is warm and gentle, and his eyes are soft, full of pain and love. 

He's never been anything but gentle with you, even when he didn't have to be. Even when the mission demanded he take risks, put his life on the line, he was always careful with you. Always protective. Always gentle. And now, here, when the mission is over, the danger gone, he's still treating you like something precious, something to be treasured.

It's too much.

"Don't say that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "You don't get to tell me how I feel. You can't decide for me, cyar'ika. I'm not gonna change my mind. I'm not gonna stop caring about you. So just...just stop. Okay?"

Your hands find his, curling around his wrists. His pulse is pounding under your fingertips, and his chest is rising and falling with each breath, the beat of his heart matching the rhythm of yours. It would be so easy, so tempting, to let yourself give in. To give him the answer he wants. To give him the one thing you've wanted to give him for so long.

But you can't. You can't let him sacrifice his future, his happiness, for you. It's too much. Too selfish.

"Wrecker, please," you say, squeezing his wrists. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Then don't do this," he whispers. "Don't walk away from me. Please." His voice breaks, and his fingers dig into your shoulders. "Just...just give me a chance."

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to hit him, to shove him away, but you can't. All you can do is stare up at him, his face inches from yours, his eyes begging. It would be so easy, and yet, impossibly difficult. If you do this, if you give in, it's not just your life on the line, but his. If you give him what he wants, if you allow him to care for you, it will only lead to more heartbreak. More pain.

And yet...

You can't bring yourself to pull away, can't bring yourself to deny him. And, if you're honest with yourself, you don't want to. You've wanted this for so long, wanted him, and now that the moment has finally come, the opportunity has presented itself, you can't let it go.

"I can't," you whisper, your voice shaking.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm scared," you confess. You reach out and cup his cheek, running your thumb over the scarred tissue beneath his eye, and his expression softens. "I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to...to love you." The words come out choked, and the tears in your eyes blur your vision. "It's wrong. It's forbidden. It's...it's..."

"It's what?" he asks, his voice rough with emotion. "It's amazing? It's the best feeling in the galaxy?"

"Yes," you whisper, and the tears spill over. "But I can't do this. I can't...I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Wrecker asks. His hand slips from your shoulder, his fingers stroking your cheek, catching a tear as it falls. "Cyar'ika, I'd sacrifice myself for you a hundred times over. You think I care about what they'd say? They can go kriff themselves. I'd fight every single member of the Council for you, if I had to. But I don't need to. 'Cause they can't tell me what to do, and neither can you."

"You say that now," you mutter. "But—"

"I'll say it every day," he cuts in. "Every single day until you believe me. I don't care about them. I don't care about the rules. I just want you."

"Wrecker, stop," you whisper, but he shakes his head, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"I know you're scared. I know you're worried about what's going to happen. But we don't have to think about that. We can just be together. Just us. Nobody has to know. We can figure this out. Together. But you gotta let me in."

You stare at him, stunned by the strength and certainty in his words. He's right. You are scared. You're terrified. And not just of what the Council will do, or what the consequences might be. 

You're afraid of him, of the power he holds over you, the way you feel about him. But standing here, with his hands on your face, his eyes searching yours, it's enough to make you reconsider. Enough to make you question everything. And so you swallow your fears, and you say the words.

"I love you, Wrecker."

His lips part, and his eyes widen, and the sound that comes out of his mouth is halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"You mean that?" he asks, his voice tight with emotion.

"Yes," you say, and the word is like a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I do. I love you."

His arms slip around your waist, and he pulls you into him, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your face. He doesn't say anything, just stares down at you, his gaze burning, and the silence stretches on, charged with anticipation. And then, finally, he speaks.

"I love you too, cyar'ika," he says, his voice trembling. "More than you know."

Your heart feels like it's going to burst. You pull him close, burying your face in his chest, and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight. It's an overwhelming feeling, this affection, this love, but you can't deny it. Not anymore. And as you stand there, his body wrapped around yours, his hands running through your hair, you know that he's right.

"Don't let go," you whisper, your voice muffled by his armor. "Please, don't ever let me go."

"I won't," he says, his voice a rumble in his chest. "I got you, an'edee. Always."

The words send a jolt of warmth through your body, and you melt into him, allowing yourself to be swept away by the feeling. It's like coming home, the warmth and comfort washing over you, and the tension melts away, leaving only relief in its wake. 

You're not sure how long you stay there, wrapped up in each other, but when he finally pulls away, you're stunned by the look in his eyes. No one has ever looked at you like that. No one has ever seen you like he does.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Yes," you say, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he says. "You don't gotta thank me. Just keep lookin' at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you love me," he murmurs.

"Oh," you reply, blushing. "Well, then, I suppose I should do my best. It wouldn't do for me to fail in that regard."

He chuckles, his hands sliding up your sides. "No, it wouldn't."

You shiver at his touch, the heat of his hands sinking into your skin. His palms are rough and calloused, and his fingers are gentle, tracing the curve of your waist. Your eyes meet, and his smile is so wide, so warm, that you can't help but return it.

"So," he says, his hands drifting lower. "Where does this leave us?"

"Us?"

"Yeah. You know, our relationship," he says. "Are we...together? Or do I still gotta keep pretendin' that you're just a friend?"

You sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. "Together, Wrecker. We're together."

"Good," he grins, his eyes bright. "'Cause I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it. Having you around, knowing how I felt, not being able to do anything about it."

"That's why I was avoiding you," you admit. "I knew if I had to spend much more time with you, I was going to break. I was already having trouble controlling my feelings. If we'd had another mission, I don't think I would have made it. I was so close to telling you how I felt."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Kriff, cyar'ika," he groans, his grip on your waist tightening. "I wish you would've said something sooner. Woulda made things a lot easier."

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"Don't apologize," he says, his voice husky. "You're worth the wait."

Your breath catches in your throat, and his eyes flick to yours, and his grin turns mischievous.

"What is it, mesh'la?" he asks, his fingers digging into your hips. "Tell me."

"I, um..." You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his voice makes your insides turn to mush. "It's just that...when you call me those names, it, uh, does things to me."

"Good things?" he asks, leaning in.

"Yes."

"You want me to keep saying them, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can do that," he murmurs. His breath is warm on your skin, his voice low and teasing. "And I can do a lot more, too. If you want me to."

You stare up at him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, trying not to let your desire show on your face. You've never done anything like this, never even considered doing something like this. And yet, the idea of him touching you, kissing you, fills you with anticipation.

"I'd like that," you manage, your voice hoarse.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He nods, and he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. His eyes search your face, and he waits, and when you nod, he presses his lips to yours.

It's a slow, soft kiss, the barest brush of skin on skin. But the contact sends a thrill through your body, and you can't help but press closer, wanting more. Your hands move to the back of his neck, pushing yourself onto the tips of your toes, and he obliges, pulling you in.

His lips are warm, his tongue slick and hot as it traces the seam of your mouth. You open for him, letting him deepen the kiss, and his palm slides up your back, cradling your head. His thumb strokes your cheek, and the gentleness of the gesture sends a rush of warmth through your veins.

When the two of you finally break apart, your lungs are aching, and his breath is ragged. He leans his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of your neck.

"Kriff, cyar'ika," he whispers, and the name sends a thrill through you. You can hear the longing, the need, in his voice, and it's enough to make your knees weak. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

"Tell me," you say, your voice shaking.

"Too long," he murmurs. "Far too long."

You lean back, looking up at him. The adoration in his eyes takes your breath away, and you pull him down, kissing him again. This time, the kiss is deeper, more intense, and you can't hold back a moan as his tongue slips past your lips.

The noise seems to ignite something in him, because the next thing you know, his arms are around you, lifting you up with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in, and his hands roam over your back, sliding down to cup your ass. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, and the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, makes you gasp.

Wrecker sets you down on the edge of your bunk, and the height difference is suddenly very apparent. You're not used to being on eye level with him, but now, with your legs spread, his body between them, it's impossible not to notice. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail, and the hunger in his eyes sends a jolt of excitement through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. He sounds awed, like he can't believe his luck, and the compliment makes your heart flutter. "So kriffing beautiful, cyar'ika." 

You lean into his touch, and his fingers brush against your lips, the callouses of his hands rough against your skin. You kiss his fingertips, and the heat in his gaze makes you blush.

"Not as beautiful as you," you murmur. He shakes his head with a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"No one's as beautiful as you," Wrecker says, his hand finding yours. His fingers lace with yours, and he raises your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your knuckles. His touch is gentle, and the tenderness of the gesture makes your heart clench. "I could look at you forever. Never get tired of it."

The heat on your cheeks is unbearable, and you're not sure how to respond. Words can't capture the emotions coursing through you, and so you lean in, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. He groans against your mouth, his hand finding the small of your back and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your legs around him, the need to be closer, to feel his body pressed against yours, overwhelming. He seems to understand, his fingers tangling in your hair, his teeth nipping at your lip.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you, cyar'ika," he promises, his voice rough with emotion. "Promise."

"You already have," you whisper. "Just having you here is more than I deserve."

"Don't talk like that," he mutters. His hand slides up, cupping the back of your head, and he kisses the corner of your mouth. He tilts your face up to meet his, and the intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you. I'm not gonna give that up. You're mine, and I'm not lettin' go."

The words are a jolt to your system, the possessiveness of his tone making you tremble. He's always been protective of you, but this is different. This is more than just a desire to keep you safe. This is something else entirely. You can't find the words to respond, and so you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and praying the tears in your eyes don't spill over.

"Wrecker," you whisper. "I..."

"I love you," he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours. "So much."

The words are a balm on your aching heart, and the tears finally fall. Wrecker leans in and kisses them away, his lips soft and gentle against your cheeks. The tenderness, the closeness, it's too much to bear, and the emotions welling up inside you are overwhelming. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, and he holds you tight, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"I got you," he whispers. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I don't know why I'm crying."

"I do," he replies. He cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His eyes are soft, and his lips curl into a gentle smile. "You've been through a lot, and you're tired. You're allowed to cry."

You nod, wiping the tears from your face. He's right. The past few days have been exhausting, emotionally and physically. Between the mission, the tension between the two of you, the anxiety and uncertainty, it's a miracle you're not falling apart.

"Hey," he murmurs. "Stop thinking so hard. It's okay."

"I'm not supposed to let my emotions get the best of me," you murmur.

"That's some banthashit, an'edee," he says, and his voice is teasing, but there's a hint of steel in it. "You're human. You're allowed to have emotions."

"I suppose," you reply, unable to keep the smile off your face.

"Good," he says, and his thumb strokes your cheek. "We'll make this work. We'll find a way."

"Wrecker," you sigh.

"Shh," he cuts in. "None of that. We're together, right?"

"Right."

"Then trust me. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," he promises. "I'll keep you safe."

"I know," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"We'll figure it out," Wrecker says. "It might be hard, but we'll find a way. We always do."

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm. You kiss him back, allowing yourself to give in, to let go of the fear and worry, to let yourself be swept away by the feeling. He's right. It will be difficult, but it's worth it.

This is where you belong, in his arms, and no matter what the future holds, no matter what the Order says, no matter the consequences, you know you'll always have him. And that's more than you could have ever hoped for.

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@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive_shark

@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees

[maybefalsefacts]

Okay, hear me out: if the zombie virus is a Virus... That means there can be a cure right?

I think most zombies would die off naturally after x amount of time just given that their bodies can no longer sustain them. Meaning that they don't live long enough to fight off the virus naturally.

Wade's body can't cure his cancer because it's written into his DNA, but the virus isn't.

Yeah, Wade's cancer takes up most of his healing and it's working overtime having to constantly reattach his limbs and regrow skin and all that

BUT given enough time, it stands to reason that his body would be able to fight off the virus eventually. I mean, if he's already strong enough to be conscious, he could very easily outlive the virus.

It wouldn't be obvious or drastic by any means.

A month after he's bit, he stops going fully feral. He still goes into the unconscious/not quite Wade mode, but he doesn't outright attack

A year after he's bit, Wade slowly starts having more good days than bad. He's learned to control his hunger and can (mostly) be around the girls full time.

At a year and a half, his skin slowly stops just falling off. It will still peel and rot, but not nearly as badly. His limbs also stay better. They can still be yanked off, but they won't just fall off unprompted.

At two years, Wade is now sleeping in Logan's bed every night. He's hasn't had to be tied down or shot in weeks. He can do simple chores without forgetting what he was doing and almost never gets lost when he wanders off (after a butterfly or smthn. idk it's Wade)

At three years, he can almost be understood when he tries to talk. His grunts and moans start sounding like real words again. (They don't notice because they've all gotten used to translating Wade-Speak. Like how parents know what their toddler is saying, even if no one else does) And he starts eating other things. At first, it's just rabbit he caught or something because they've run out of food for him and Logan was hunting or whatever. But then he started stealing bites off of Logan's plate. Then getting his own plate (in addition to flesh) because it kept the hunger down.

At four years, he gets mistaken for an unbitten. He was out gathering wood and someone happens across their cabin. Wade isn't worried if the stranger has been bit or not (he's still in the mindset that he's a zombie...cause he kind of is) and points them to the nearest stream or town or something.

At five years, Wade says a long or complicated word and everyone just stares at him. It's like a lightbulb went off in their brains. They each finally notice the progress. Suddenly, Gabby and Laura throw themselves at him and Logan just sits there, tears rolling down his face. Wade is so confused because he too hadn't noticed the change.

He was still a long way from 'healed' but it gives them all so much hope

I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..

[tumblerlove]

Yes, I am alive....no, I don't even know where it is that I disappeared to, but I'm back 😌 so here's some Rafe angst that does end happy, though

"Rafe, what's wrong?" You gasp as you see your boyfriend absolutely distraught....

You hadn't heard from Rafe all day, which is werid for him. If you two can't be together that day, then he'll call you at least. But he hadn't even texted you either. That's why you're knocking at Tannyhills door right now. Wheezie had let you in, and you could tell the house was tense by the look on her face. It was just her and Rafe. You didn't hear or see Ward, Rose, or Sarah around

You knock on his door before entering. "Wheezie, go away, I don't want to talk right now," he yells behind the door. You open it anyway and peek inside and see him on the edge of his bed

You tell him softly, "It's just me, Rafe." He whips his head towards you and can see that his eyes are teary and red. And omg, there's a bruise under his eye. And maybe even his lip is cut?! His hair looks disheveled like his hands had been running through it

"Rafe, what's wrong!?" You gasp as you see your boyfriend absolutely distraught. "What...what are you doing here?" As he stands up and looks away from you

"I came to check on you...I hadn't heard from you it's not like you." You tell him as he looks away from you. "Rafe, tell me what happened," you ask him, your tone pleading a little, trying to find out what happened that has him like this

"Just fucking go. I don't want you seeing me like this, " his voice raising at you, still looking away from you. He never would talk to you like this

"Don't talk to me like that, Rafe...I'm your girlfriend. I have a right to find out what's got you so upset so I can help." Your tone is firm but still caring

"God, I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you," he tells you his tone softer now. He turns around to you. "Oh Rafe," you gasp out and walk up to him and inspect the black eye forming already. He does infact have a cut on his cheek and his lip, too

"Did you get into a fight?" You look at him, knowing how he was before meeting you. "No, no, I promise," his tone serious. You can tell he didn't fight as you see his hands are clean, no cuts or blood on them

"If you won't tell me then... just let me fix you up and take care of you." Your eyes finding his that are watering again. He mumbles "Ok" as you step closer to him and hold his hand, moving him towards his bathroom

He sits on the toilet seat as you grab some things to patch him up, still curious as to what happened. You clean his cuts, making sure they don't get infected. He winces when you use a cleaning spray. "I'm sorry, baby." You lean down and kiss, his forehead

"It was my dad," he blurts out as you make eye contact with him. Trying not to move or speak, so he continues on. "He got pissed off because the job he had me working on fell through." his eyes look hurt. You knew that he had been working on it and trying so hard to make it work.

He's holding your waist as if you'll keep him grounded while telling you. "I told him that I tried everything, and the guy had pulled out last minute. He didn't believe me... said I must have fucked something up." Rafes words mumbled as he presses his face into your stomach, not being able to look at you

"When I defended myself again he pushed me and when I tried to push him away he punched me and his ring cut me too" he looks finally up at you as you both have tears in your eyes

"Oh Rafe," you look at him, pulling him to you so you can hug him properly. "I...I didn't even defend myself. I just walked away after like a coward." He sounds defeated and tired. "You did the right thing. You're the bigger person. You've grown from this behavior." You try to help him calm down and reason with him that he did good

"You know how much worse it could've been baby if you would've fought him back," you say, holding his face to look you in the eyes. "You are a stronger man for walking away. Your father is the coward."

"I fucking hate this" he looks up at you eyes watery. "I'm so tired," Rafe says, his voice and face breaking your heart

You pull him up and start moving him back to the bedroom. "Let's get you comfortable and in bed," you smile up at him, doing your best to help him. Rafe just mindlessly follows you as you pick out sweats for him to change into

"Let me help you," you step closer to him to start getting his shirt off. "You don't have to, baby," his voice soft while looking at you. "I know... but I want too" you say as you get him into sweatpants

As you get him into bed and make him comfortable, he grabs your hand. "Can you stay here tonight?" Rafe asks softly. "Of course I was just gonna change into something comfortable," you cup his face before changing

When you're changed into one of Rafes' shirts and a pair of underwear, you climb into bed with him. His eyes are puffy from crying and swollen from his black eye. It breaks your heart seeing him like this, knowing he's eating himself up over his dad's shit

"Rafe...." you ask as he's snuggled against your back, cuddling against you. "Yes, love," he says, sleepy. "You should move in with me," you blurt out. You feel his body stiffen for a second until he says, "I'll start packing in the morning." He kisses your neck as he falls asleep

Next morning, you wake up to the sounds of Rafe packing his things up with a smile on his face.

[kinardsevan]

so my initial theory was that the lightning strike parallel would have Tommy on the crane and that's how we would get some resolution. I really still love that idea (obviously. i wrote it twice.)

however, now (after zooming in on the instagram promo to an obnoxious degree), I'm not as sold on this version. BUT. there's another thing living in my head.

at some point, someone has to ask Buck why they broke up, and we know that we've got him "on a pendulum" with his reaction, and "cracks starting to show".

which brings about my new theory:

I feel like the conversation is ultimately going to happen with Maddie, since she's the Voice of Reason in his life. Maybe it's after he's been baking with Jee-Yun, idk. Anyway, I know the minute he says "I asked him to move in with me", she's gonna have the response of "...and have you figured out if you love him yet? Had you told him that?" which either will bring about his own feelings realization, or (hopefully) he'll have already come to that conclusion. but mostly, I'm imagining Maddie being like "wait, so you told him you wanted to move in together but you hadn't even said I Love You yet?" queue Buck being like "I thought it was in the context" and Maddie going all Big Sister and being like "okay what actually happened?" this then leading to Buck giving her the rundown of what was said, how Tommy told him he would break his heart and Maddie having to be like "well of course he's afraid, blah blah blah" (or some version of that, with the blahs being whatever reason she gives to him that actually makes sense). At which point, we get to the end of this conversation, and Maddie tells him "you need to call him, Evan. you need to be honest about how you really feel."

and what does THAT get us?

see, something occurred to me when I realized this option: the breakup parallels the first date. but the first date isn't the resolution to that episode, nor is it REALLY the start of their relationship. you know what is though?

the coffee date!

which is how we get them back at a cafe, mirroring their conversation about Buck "not being ready" and Tommy telling him he didn't want to pressure him.

To that end, we get the resolutions to those statements in new forms: we get Evan telling Tommy that he's not the guy who didn't know what he was ready for, and that he knows exactly what he wants, which is Tommy. He knows that because he's able to tell him that he's in love with him, flaws, trauma, and all. I think the way you can counterbalance that with the not wanting to pressure, is by Buck rescinding his offer to live together. at that point, we get a reflection of his understanding that Tommy has trauma (maybe Chimney knows the story and shares it during Buck's conversation with Maddie). anyway, he tells him that its his turn to go at Tommy's pace, at which point we can get a "are you sure about this?" "yes, I'm sure", and then Tommy's the one this time that reaches out and lays his hand over Evan's.

that's all. thanks for attending my second TEDtalk of the night. I'll see my way out (and back into the fic I'm trying to write this into).

[chronicsyd]

ykw? now that I've mentioned this hypothetical I'm gonna make the Wildest hot take that I'm sure No One will agree with but I'm gonna make it anyways:

Caitlyn is a victim of Ambessa's meddling

And before you all start typing away cuz I can already feel your comments coming, No this Isn't me justifying what Caitlyn does. This is me explaining that What she does is reactionary to all of the shit that Ambessa has set up, Ambessa is the bigger problem here and No One is willing to discuss it. They slap Everything onto Caitlyn and call it a day.

Because like I mentioned in my hypothetical, we do originally see Caitlyn still vouching for those in Zaun, saying innocents will die if they bring Hextech weaponry into Zaun solely to make Jinx pay for her actions. Which in turn causes Mel to agree with her, not just because she's against what her Mother's demanding (because she Knows that Ambessa's just puppeteering Salo), but because she also feels that Hextech should be a Last resort in any given situation, Mel still has compassion. Unfortunately, Mel still has to compromise with her fellow councilors, so they settle on sending the Enforcer's after Jinx, just without Hextech. This in turn is what causes Ambessa to set up the attack on the memorial. Because what the councilors have decided isn't going to start a war with Zaun, which is what she's looking for. She needs a catalyst to have people calling for so much blood that not starting a war is no longer an option.

Now I will admit, her bringing up becoming an Enforcer is one of her mistakes. She says to Vi "you can show not all of Zaun supports Jinx" because she believes this. Not just from Vi, but because Jinx's attack was her own, other Zaunites didn't attack the Council, she did. She says "I thought you were on our side" because she thought that Vi would understand because like her, she's lost a parent to an oppressor (and Before you start, I'm talking about Jinx oppressing Caitlyn specifically here. When Jinx threatens her, kidnaps her, and takes away her mom; she's specifically targeting Caitlyn, and for the most part, Caitlyn has been pretty helpless against her. therefore, that makes Jinx an oppressor of Caitlyn). But this causes her to think deeper about it and realize that asking Vi to put on the badge was the wrong thing to ask of her, she says so later in the episode. (btw, it's clear that Caitlyn secured Vi's enlistment Before offering the badge, not after being rejected, y'all are just reaching with this take because you're so blinded by your anger at Caitlyn (ironic isn't it?). Because 1) why would she even have the badge to begin with? But 2) it's pretty clear with with Maddie coming up and talking to her, that Enforcer's have been talking about Vi and Jayce going rouge after Silco's simmer facility for a bit now. And that they're all seemingly impressed with her and how Caitlyn stood up for her, they think that Vi's already agreed because Caitlyn hadn't asked yet)

When she's talking to Jayce, she says that "she understands how easy it is to hate them". because while yes, it is arguable that she was ignorant to people in Zaun back in S1, she didn't see how easy it was for her fellow people to just hate them. Especially after Vi showing her what life was like for people in Zaun. But that was before Jinx went and killed her mom (and gave her her whole baggage of other traumas). But it's still being shown to us that she doesn't lump all Zaunites together just because of Jinx's actions because she still remembers seeing everything down there, she doesn't hate them like other people do.

So, why does the attack at the memorial change things?

Because the attack wasn't made by Jinx, it was made by other Zaunites. Zaunites that she just spent a lot of her time vouching for, being in their defense, giving them benefit. because that's what's happening in Caitlyn's point of view, she doesn't Know (yet, most likely) that Ambessa was the reason that it even happened. She's angry at them and herself because like not shooting Jinx, she's been giving them the benefit when it seems that they don't deserve it. To Her, a peaceful memorial for her Mom that was destroyed by Zaunites that had no reason for attacking them. She Wasn't going to attack them until this happens, because now to her, they're all guilty (keep this in mind, because it actually has to do with her outburst at Vi later).

When she see's that her mom made the vents so that the people of Zaun could breath and not be harmed by the gray, she's so overcome by anger that she uses the gray as a weapon. she plows through the people of Zaun in order to get to Jinx, this is also what she does with Isha later. She isn't thinking rationally at this point anymore, she's simply being controlled by her emotions and thinking that if she kills Jinx it will fix all her problems. And because she now sees other Zaunites as guilty, she doesn't care what her actions are doing to the people of Zaun. they're simply just in her way.

And while Caitlyn says she wouldn't have missed the shot, I'm having doubts about that. Because at that point she's just firing wildly, she misses and takes off Jinx's finger, she misses and hits Vi instead. When Vi grabs the gun and aims it at the ground, look at the face Caitlyn makes here. it goes from shock at what just happened, to looking at Vi in anger. her face Screams "how could you?!" and while Vi's saying she's protecting a child, Not Jinx, that's Not what Caitlyn's hearing. by Vi getting in the way at all, she believes that Vi is still protecting Jinx, that despite Vi telling her to take the shot, that her sister is gone, she believes that Vi was lying to her. That's why she says "I keep telling myself that you're different, but you're not." she now believes that Vi was Never going to kill Jinx, that simply being her sister that was going to be a problem for Vi (because that's what happens in Ep 9. Vi's the one pleading with Caitlyn that "she's my sister" "don't hurt her" etc.). The straw that broke the camels back, however, is when Vi compares Caitlyn to Jinx. Now, Vi's absolutely right in what she's saying here, because Caitlyn has been acting like Jinx (because that's like the whole Point with these two, they're Supposed to be foils of each other). But to Caitlyn, Vi might as well have just slapped her across the face because she just compared her to the person that killed her mom and has been causing all her suffering. In response, she lashes out by hitting Vi with the back of her gun (AGAIN, I'm not saying what Caitlyn did is right, I'm just explaining what's going on and how CAITLYN is currently seeing things).

For a split second, you see regret on Caitlyn's face. She feels bad because she hit Vi, but that isn't quite enough to get her to stay, because the other demons in her head are still convincing her of what she think's Vi's done, so, she turns and leaves.

SO now that we got all THAT outta the way, let's talk about Ambessa appointing Caitlyn as a general shall we?

like I've mentioned in another post, she switches from Salo to Caitlyn because the fool mentioned how much power the Kiramman name wields. Because she simply can't put Herself as leader, oh no no no That would be too obvious. She needs a face for this war to hide behind, someone from Piltover itself, and who Better to Be that face than the new head of the most Powerful house in all of Piltover? Especially now that that new head has been dealing with quite a lot of anger and grief (something that Ambessa is Exceptionally skilled at weaponizing).

She starts with this whole speech of how Zaun has just been attacking Piltover nonstop (despite 2 out of the 3 instances she lists, she Herself is the one that's Responsible), and how "wrath must be met with wrath". Earlier she tells Salo to bring the "Who's who" of Piltover so that Caitlyn CAN'T say no to this because with everyone calling for war, it would look bad for Caitlyn to be like "nah I'll pass thanks". Because you can see everyone's faces, they're Approving of this decision that Ambessa makes, they're Willing to stand behind Caitlyn and the Kiramman name. And so are the Enforcers who Admire Caitlyn, they all begin to pound their chest in solidarity with the Noxian soldiers, they're Also willing to stand behind Caitlyn. and watch the look on her face as Caitlyn walks towards Ambessa, when Ambessa places the cloak on her and swears "her mother will have justice". she's merely starring off, almost in a daze, her rational isn't kicking in, she's merely being lead on a string. here she's being given what she Thinks will solve her problems, and is taking it.

I'm sure that once Caitlyn starts to figure out what Ambessa's doing, not only is her anger going to be directed at Ambessa; but the guilt from the blood that's now on her hands is probably going to eat her alive. She's going to need to make things right with both Vi and Zaun if this has any chance of becoming better but it's rather unclear if that's even going to be a viable option for her. Is there enough time left for Caitlyn to be able to right her wrongs? who knows, it just depends on what they show us.

So all in all, while Caitlyn's actions Are wrong, she isn't this evil, unlovable bitch that just proved that she's been a bitch all along that isn't worth redeeming. thank you for your time.

(before I go, one thing I AM going to say people invalidating Caitlyn's trauma and grief because she comes from a privileged background and therefore "her trauma isn't as bad" is one of the most DISGUSTING things I think I've ever seen. Trauma Absolutely Does NOT work like that. Caitlyn's been through a Fuckton of trauma in merely a matter of Days and is being expected to hold herself together. Yes the actions that she's taking are wrong, I've said this like 5 times during this post, but that doesn't mean her pain and trauma has less value and isn't real. This isn't the trauma olympics, there isn't an invisible line that someone has to cross before you deem "they're allowed to react now")

[lord-of-cactus]

Hai!! Interested in your Life Series(?) x Genshin??? I'm all here for it!! Whatcha got thought out so far?

Who has what visions?

Where would the visions be? Like, hanging from the hip, or necklace, off of a bag, etc.

Anything else you might wanna share?

This is such a good question I hadn't thought too much about that!

Overall only a few of the placements are important to the story, which are Jimmy's, Lizzie's, and Pearl's.

Jimmy's vision appeared on his back between his wings, litterally out of his reach, he didn't even realize it was there until Lizzie pointed it out. While he was ecstatic to have earned his vision, he couldn't sincerely share in Lizzies celebration, because he had no excuses now, he had to get better, he had to get stronger (Lizzie could have died, she almost did, the only reason she's not is because I got lucky, or the Tsaritsa took pity on me, it dosen't matter, I can't waist this gift) the late nights training in the courtyard, his claymore swinging in his shaking hands, it's weight wreaking havoc on his shoulders, in the morning he'll laugh and say it's from the bad fall they took those days ago, Lizzie will laugh too because he's never lied to her.

Lizzie got her vision long before she joined the fatui, long before she met Etho, when she was just a child being told the stories of humanities evil, of Tevat's sins and the destruction of a holy nation, of her purpose, her mission, and when she would be reminded the the only thing she could trust in Tevat was the sword on her hip. A vision sat where her sheath used to be after a day of training, there were no explosions or fanfare, it was a normal afternoon. She left to join the fatui the next morning.

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Just... Friends?

Pairing: Leviathan x GN! Reader

Summary: You have always liked him. Maybe more than what most people would consider as friendship. And you have a feeling that he also feels the same way. Yet it's frustrating whenever he refers to you as just a friend even though his actions say otherwise.

Genre: Fluff. Maybe crack too if you squint at it hard enough.

A/N: This was sitting on my drafts for AGES!!

But after several editing and removing some stuff, I finally got this story to go in a direction that I like!

Although there is a specific scene here that made me feel hypocritical lmaooo.

Happy reading! ❤️

Warning:

- Not proofread.

- Cussing.

- Levi is as dense as a brick.

- The reader is frustrated and decides to take matters into their own hands.

- The reader is referred to as MC.

- Probably OOC. This is just unplanned fluff writing. Asmo is acting as your wingman.

MASTERLIST

Inspired by "Just A Friend To You" by Meghan Trainor and Adrien Agreste from Miraculous Ladybug (lol)

You were done.

With a tired sigh, you leaned back on the sofa and closed your eyes. You thought back on what happened earlier in Levi's room.

"Woooo!! Finally!!"

The room was filled with joyous shouts when the TV screen displayed the word "victory" in large letters.

"MC, we finally beat the boss!"

Soon, you were enveloped by a familiar warmth as Levi tightly wrapped his arms around you. You felt your cheeks heat up a little when you noticed that his embrace was a little longer than usual.

"Haha, yes, we did. Congratulations to both of us."

Levi gently pushed you away within arm's length and looked at you with a grin. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Eh? But I haven't done as much as you, though."

Levi shook his head in response. "That's not true! If you hadn't done that move, we'd still be playing this round again! Seriously, you're the best friend a gamer could ask for!"

You felt your eye twitch a little at his word. Friend.

You have always liked him. Maybe more than what most people would consider as friendship. And you have a feeling that he also feels the same way. Yet it's frustrating whenever he refers to you as just a friend even though his actions say otherwise.

You tried to show it through your actions that you like him countless times before, but for some reason, it always goes over his head.

The two of you continued to play some more before deciding enough was enough.

You dragged both of your hands on your face and sighed once more.

"You okay, hon?"

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of Asmodeus's voice. He looks at you, slight worry evident in his expression.

You gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, my eyes are just a little tired, that's all."

"You should really cut off some of your gaming time. Then you won't be complaining about how dry your eyes are anymore," Asmo chides you as he hands out an eyedrop for your eyes. But he knows you wouldn't listen to him no matter how many times he scolds you.

"Mmm, thanks."

......

As you put the eye solution on your eyes, you felt Asmo's focused stare on you.

"What is it?"

You sat up when you finished putting the eye solution. The fifth-born faces you with a knowing look as he sat on the sofa beside you.

"Spill it."

You look at him confused.

"Spill what?"

"It's a romance-related trouble, isn't it?"

Your eyes widened slightly. Was it that obvious? You felt your cheeks warm at the realization.

"I- um..."

You nodded, too embarrassed to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

"Wanna talk about it in my room instead?"

Well... it wouldn't hurt to talk about it to Asmo, you thought.

"Okay..."

Soon after you agreed, Asmo dragged you away and into his room.

.

.

.

"I'm back."

You looked at Asmo carrying a tray of cookies and tea. He went to the kitchen after letting you in his room.

"So, what's been bothering you, hm?" The Avatar of Lust asked, interest glimmering in his eyes.

"Oh, you know... the same old stuff," you grumbled as you flopped forward over the demon's lush bedsheet.

"Ah," was his reply once he realized what you were talking about.

"...You know you won't be suffering like that if you'd just say it straight to his face, right?"

"No."

Yeah, right. Easier said than done.

"Why not? You won't lose anything if you do."

"Yes, I do. I'd lose my dignity."

"Mhm. Right... And how did this way of "preserving" your dignity go for you?"

Asmo raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow on your unmoving form, completely unconvinced.

You can only groan in response.

"Come on, you know how my brother is. If you want him to know that you're in love with him, you have to say it to him directly. Otherwise, he'll think you're just being a really nice person, like what's happening right now." The fifth-born rolled his eyes, not at you but at his dense as a brick older brother.

...........

...........

"...But what if he really just think of me as a friend? What then? I don't wanna risk what we currently have over these... feelings," you mumble under your breath.

"Well, you wouldn't know that unless you do something, hon."

"And what if he rejects me?"

You finally moved after a while, turning your head to look at the beautiful demon who sat beside you.

"Then accept his feelings and move on. It'll be difficult, but atleast it's better than pining and stuck forever to where you are right now, not knowing how to move forward," he answered in a gentle tone and caressed your hair in a way that was akin to a mother comforting her crying child.

The gesture lulled you to sleep.

And as you slowly drifted off to dream world, a small part of you thought that yeah... you probably should confront your conundrum instead of running away from it.

Maybe... you should ask... Asmo for... help.

.

.

.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in a karaoke booth with Leviathan beside you.

"Oh wow! It's been AGES since the last time we hung out here!" The purple-haired demon grinned as he eagerly flipped through the song book.

"Ahaha... I know, right? Since exams are finally done, I thought this would be a great way to unwind after all that stress," you replied, careful not to let the bubbling anxiety inside you show.

"Oh, definitely! By the way, where are the others?"

As Levi asked that, you heard a ping from your phone. There was a message from Asmo.

[Asmo: "We're almost there but we'll give you some time together. Good luck, hon! 😘"]

You discreetly gulped at the message before putting your phone back to your pocket.

Thanks, Asmo!

"Asmo said they're going to be a bit late and we can just go ahead and order for ourselves or sing."

"Huh... alright," Levi said before going back to flipping through the song book.

"...."

"...."

"...Hey, Levi?"

"Hm?"

"Do you mind if I pick a song first?"

The demon looked at you quizzically. "Sure... Why though? You don't usually sing first."

"Well, um- you know... Just a change of pace," you shrugged.

You can feel sweat form on your hands.

After a moment, he handed the song book to you. Immediately, you felt the anxiety inside you intensify as you searched through the song book until you finally found what you were looking for.

You pressed buttons to enter the song number. The title flashed on the screen as you hit OK.

[Just A Friend To You by Meghan Trainor]

"Ooh, is this a song from the human world?" Levi asked.

"Yep," you answered.

Picking up the microphone, you took a deep breath to calm your erratic heartbeats.

Okay, this now or never.

"Why you gotta hug me like that every time you see me? Why you always making me laugh Swear you're catching feelings"

You looked at Levi, who, after you gave the song book back, returned to searching for songs to sing.

You turned your vision back to the karaoke screen.

"I loved you from the start, So it breaks my heart When you say I'm just a friend to you 'Cause friends don't do the things we do. Everybody knows you love me too. Tryna be careful with the words I use. I say it cause I'm dying to. I'm so much more than just a friend to you."

You looked back at him again, discreetly this time.

He was still busy with the song book.

Slowly, your anxiety was replaced by irritation.

Is he really THIS dense?? Or is he just acting like he knows nothing?

In your frustration, you stood up from where you were sitting.

"When there's other people around You never wanna kiss me. You tell me it's too late to hang out And you say you miss me."

You thought back to the times where he acted like he, too, liked you back.

Were those sweet gestures of his just a ploy to toy with you? Or was it just you who gave those actions a different meaning than what he actually intended?

You don't know anymore.

"And I loved you from the start, So it breaks my heart When you say I'm just a friend to you 'Cause friends don't do the things we do. Everybody knows you love me too."

You turned to face him, and to your surprise, his attention was now all on you.

As hard as it was, you managed to force yourself to keep looking at his citrine eyes.

"You say I'm just a friend to you Friends don't do the things we do. Everybody knows that I love you. I'll try to be careful with the words I use And I'll say it cause I'm dying to. You're so much more than just a friend to me."

Thick silence quickly replaced the fading last notes of the song.

Levi was the one who broke the staring contest between the two of you.

"Um... That- that was... a really good song. Though I think you sang the last verse wrong there."

You continued to stare at him.

"Levi."

He flinched when you said his name.

"I know this is weird and very sudden. But I seriously can't keep this to myself anymore. You are one, if not the most passionate and fun person I have ever met, and I always enjoy the time we spend together. In fact, I always look forward to the days we hang out. And, well..."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"What I want to say is that... I like you, Levi."

"You- you like... me?" The subject of your confession looked back at you incredulously.

You nodded.

"As- as a friend... right?" he asked, fidgeting.

What?

Now it was your turn to look at him wide-eyed. No way he's being serious.

"Huh? No. I mean I like you. Like like you. Romantically," you deadpanned.

"N-no way. You can't be serious."

"I'm totally serious."

Your nervousness slowly turned into annoyance.

"Levi-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Levi suddenly stood up, grabbed his stuff, and bolted out of the booth.

You could only blink at how fast it happened.

It was also at that moment that the rest of the brothers arrived.

"What's with him?" asked Mammon as he glanced at the direction his brother ran.

"I don't know. Maybe there's a limited time event on one of his games?" Beel replied.

However, one look at your expression and Asmo knew exactly what happened.

"Sorry guys, I'm suddenly feeling a little under the weather right now," the fifth-born says.

He grabbed your wrist and smiled. "With that said, I'm gonna go home. And I'm taking MC with me!"

"What?! You can't do that!" Mammon exclaimed in protest, as expected.

As much as you like to hang out with the other demon brothers, you're not in the mood to do so anymore after what happened.

So you forced yourself to smile.

"Sorry guys, maybe next time. Enjoy the karaoke for us!"

.

.

.

"Wanna tell me what happened, hon?"

After arriving at the House of Lamentation, you and Asmo made a beeline straight to his room. Though as you passed Levi's room, you felt a pang of pain in your chest.

And now, here you are, getting pampered by the Avatar of Lust himself.

"Well, you know... I confessed, and he rejected me," you smiled bitterly.

"...."

"...Oh, come on. Don't give me that look," you say when you noticed the worry in Asmo's eyes. "Atleast now, I won't be stuck pining for him forever, right?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt. And can't I worry about our adorable little lamb?"

You gave him a small smile. "Thanks a lot, Asmo. I mean it. And don't worry too much, I'll be fine."

You felt arms wrap around you as the demon hugged you.

"It's just- I already expected it to hurt if he rejected me outright. But seeing him run away like that, it's like he doesn't even want to hear it."

"Wait..."

All of a sudden, Asmo pulled back from the embrace and looked at you.

"So you mean to tell me he didn't gave you a proper reply?" he asks.

"Um... yeah," you respond.

"......"

At that moment, only one thought came to Asmodeus's mind.

For the love of everything beautiful, these two really are stupid when it comes to each other.

.

.

.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Levi, are you there? It's me, Asmo. Can we talk for a sec?"

It took a few more knocks before the third-born opened his door.

"Asmo? What is it? Hey-!" The demon protested as his brother made his way into his room.

"Don't worry, this won't take too long," said Asmo.

Seeing that his younger brother won't budge until he spoke with him, Levi sighed in defeat and closed the door.

"So, what is it that you want to speak with me so bad that you'd barge into my room with no permission?" he asked as he sat on his gaming chair, raising his eyebrow on the Avatar of Lust who was making himself comfortable with one of the beanbags in his room.

Asmo smiled before replying, "You like them, don't you?"

That made him flinch.

"Wha? Wh-why would you think that I like MC??"

That only made the fifth-born's smile grow into a grin.

"I never said their name, yet you immediately thought of them. So I was right, you do like them."

Levi felt his face warm up as he realized his slip-up.

"Do the others know?"

Asmo shrugged.

He could only hide his blushing face on his hands. Oh, how he wanted to curl up in a ball and let the earth swallow him whole right now.

"But if you like them, why didn't you tell them that when they confessed?"

Quickly, he turned to look back to his brother.

"How did you know that?! And what's it to you, anyway?"

"Levi," Asmo spoke with a serious voice, "you're my brother, and I want you to be happy. And if being with them will bring you that happiness, then why not go for it? Especially now that you know they like you back."

"But what if- what if they find out what kind of person I really am and hate me for it?"

"Honestly, I don't really know. And that's why..."

Levi's gaze followed Asmo as he walked up to the door and opened it.

It revealed the person he was avoiding for a few days now: you.

"Wh-why are they here?!" he panicked.

"To talk things out, duh! You two really need it," he heard him say as the fifth-born pushed you inside the room before closing the door once more.

Awkward silence filled the air between you.

"Hey," you said.

"H-hey."

It was the only thing he could mutter right now.

"Sorry, Asmo asked me to come here." You scratched your neck; Levi recalled it was one of your nervous tics. "I could leave, if you want."

"No! ...I-I mean, no, y-you can stay."

He gestured to the beanbag Asmo was sitting on earlier.

"Thanks..."

Once again, silence filled the air between you.

"...Um"

"I-"

Both of you spoke at the same time.

"Oh, sorry. Go ahead," he apologized.

"No, it's okay," you replied.

"...."

"...."

"Um, MC..."

"Yes?"

"...I'm sorry, for acting the way I did that day."

He looked down to his hands as he fidgeted with them.

"It's... alright. I should be the one apologizing for springing it onto you suddenly."

"...."

"...."

"To tell you the truth, I was really happy when you told me you like me."

"Mm..."

"And then I got scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of doing you wrong. And you hating me for it. You deserve so much more than what I could offer you, and I'm scared that one day, you'd realize that and leave me."

"...Levi."

He looked up from his hands and his eyes met yours.

"Does all of that really matter when you're the one I want?"

His eyes widened.

"Say that you're right, and I do deserve more. But I want you, Levi, and that's all that there is to it."

If Levi never thought you beautiful before, he would now as he continued to stare into your eyes, clear and devoid of hesitation.

And before he knew it, he walked up to where you are and kissed you.

It was everything he thought it would be and more. Your lips were soft and sweet.

It was as if he was brought back to heaven for a moment until the two of you broke contact for air.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

"Do you really mean it? Even if I'd annoy you to hell? Even if I won't be as sweet as the leading men in those shoujo animes you like? And–"

"Yes, I do. I mean it," you giggled as you cupped his cheeks with your hands.

And for the first time after a few days, Levi shyly smiled.

"So, does this mean we're a couple now?" you asked.

"Yeah. I guess we are."

.

.

.

Lifting his ear from the door, Asmo made a thumbs up gesture to his brothers who were with him.

It was a success.

Mammon was the first to react. "FINA–"

He was shushed by the others.

"Oops, sorry."

"Good for them. They finally got together after all this time pining for each other," Satan says.

"Yeah, it was getting kinda annoying seeing them give each other longing gazes," Belphegor remarked.

The others nodded in agreement.

"Atleast they're happy now."

It was Beelzebub who spoke this time with a hushed voice.

"Wait, does this mean we'll be seeing them be lovey-dovey with each other now?"

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...I hope not. That would be way more annoying than seeing them pine for each other obliviously."

Once again, the brothers nodded in agreement.

"All right, now that they're together now, let's all celebrate!" Mammon cheered in a hushed voice.

But before he could knock on the third-born's door, a gloved hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Stop that and leave them alone. Let them have their moment together with no interruptions, for goodness' sake," said Lucifer.

"Just go back to your rooms," he added.

At that, the brothers dispersed and went to their respective rooms.

Before he left, however, Asmo gave Levi's room one last look and softly smiled.

"I'm happy for the both of you, MC, Levi."

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette paced aimlessly around the room, only stopping occasionally to cast a glance at the container of cinnamon rolls on her table.

"It'd be weird to just show up, right?" she mumbled to herself. "It's not like I'd need an invite or anything - I wouldn't even know how to ask for one - but he might be busy, or maybe he wouldn't want to see me if it's not for hero work, or—"

"If you'd like to see him, you only have to ask."

She froze, spinning around to face Sass, who was lounging on top of the container with his tail swaying slowly back and forth. Frowning, she pointed out, "But you introduced us so we could support each other."

"Yes. And?" He grinned.

"W-well... I shouldn't just visit without a reason, and it's probably not a good idea to jump universes whenever I want to..." Her lips pressed together as she fidgeted with her fingers, struggling to hold onto her own overthinking. "Right?"

Sass slowly came off of the container, flying to the center of the room at a height slightly above the top of her head. "He's fighting an akuma according to my other self, but he should finish soon. You can wait for him."

Marinette was always impressed when Sass did this. As a kwami of possibilities, he naturally had the power to show her other places - other universes - but it continued to feel unreal actually seeing it. The symbols going along his back and tail would glow as he flew around in a tall, oval-esque shape, and the Sass on the "other side" would apparently do the same in the opposite direction. The portal would form starting at the edges, then inwards until the light would fill up the entire space there.

It was difficult for her to look directly at it at times due to how otherworldly it was, so she looked away and focused on picking up the little container. She heard the portal completing behind her, confirmed when Sass flew over to peek at the clear, cute little thing in her hands.

"It would have been a shame for your work to go to waste," he said, a lightheartedness in his tone.

Marinette winced in embarrassment, realizing that he'd seen the blatant bribery inside. Popping open the container from the side, she reached in and pulled out a hard-boiled egg, which Sass happily took.

Walking past him and towards the portal, she stopped halfway, looking back at him to start asking, "Oh, if there's an akuma...?"

He wrapped his tail around the egg in delight, waving a paw dismissively at the question without meeting her eyes. "All Sass are connected. If I know, Coccaerus's Sass will know, and we will bring you back."

The reassurance gave her confidence. She nodded at him, then finally stepped through the portal.

—————

When Marinette took her first step into the alternate universe, it sounded oddly familiar. She blinked rapidly, trying to make her vision adjust after the brief bout of dizziness that was common from crossing from one world to another.

The first thing she could observe was that she was in Coccaerus's - Luka's - room, made obvious by the guitar she had seen him with resting against the wall, She took in the sights, eyes moving from one wall to the other, seeing things that she knew she hadn't before, but in a space that was distinctly known to her.

"...Am I on the Liberty?" she wondered aloud.

The current universe's Sass hovered nearby, replying, "Yes. This is our master's home."

She was tempted to ask further, but noticed Sass's eyes directed down towards the container. With a fond roll of her eyes, she pulled out the other hard-boiled egg inside and handed it off to him.

Marinette had known already that there were differences between the two universes, the biggest she knew of being that she didn't exist in Luka's nor he in hers, but she hadn't thought that there could be people in place of others. She was so used to the semi-gothic aesthetic of Juleka's room that seeing Luka's own in its place was jarring, yet incredibly fascinating at the same time. Anarka must've still had a child, just Luka rather than Juleka, and she wondered what might've happened had they been born twins, or simply siblings.

The opening of a window caught her attention, and she turned to see Coccaerus swooping in. He landed quietly on the floor, but froze when he saw her.

"Marinette?"

She smiled sheepishly, wiggling the container at him. "I-I made cinnamon rolls for us?"

He stared, eyes flicking back and forth between her and the sweets, then grinned and strolled up to her. He waited for her to pop the container open so he could reach inside and pull one of the cinnamon rolls out, immediately taking a bite.

She brightened at how eager he seemed, but couldn't help asking, "You're not going to detransform?"

He leaned towards her, swallowing his bite before replying, "I can't let Tikki know you brought these."

She blushed and used grabbing her own cinnamon roll as an excuse not to meet his gaze. She bit into it, pretending not to hear his cute little giggle, and searched her mind for another topic.

"Ah, I'm glad you're here," she said, then stiffened and clarified, "I mean, because you're not where I'm from—there's someone else. A friend of mine, Juleka. She's here instead of you."

As both of her hands were occupied, she shoved the cinnamon roll into her mouth temporarily so she could gesture around the room with her icing-covered fingers. Coccaerus followed the gesture, though oddly more at her fingertips than the room itself.

He straightened, humming in thought at the information she'd dropped. "Really?"

She nodded due to being unable to talk, pulling the cinnamon roll out and taking in what had already been in her mouth.

Coccaerus's lips parted to speak, but he stopped as he looked her over. Pointing over towards his bed, he said, "I'll grab some napkins from the kitchen. Do you want to sit down?"

Wide-eyed as he took the container to put it away and moved past her, she almost choked, trying to swallow her bite quickly enough so she could speak before he'd left. "You don't have to do that! I came to give you these, but I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," he insisted, already disappearing into the other room.

Helpless, Marinette turned to Sass in the corner, barely catching the little smirk he had on before he continued nibbling at the large egg in his paws. She'd been at the Liberty so many times, but it was so different knowing that it wasn't Juleka's room she was in, but a boy's room.

She tried not to acknowledge that it wasn't even about it being a boy's, but being Luka's. It would've been nice to have the extra support from any ladybug holder, but she'd been glad it was him. He provided something beyond advice, comfort, or helping out in big akuma battles when needed.

Staring at the bed, she finally willed herself to move and walked over to it. Putting her clean hand on the bed for support, she sat up onto it and got comfortable, idly licking her lips at the thought that she might look embarrassing with icing all over them.

When Coccaerus returned, she noticed him practically shoveling the rest of the cinnamon roll into his mouth. She was alarmed and almost asked why, but then his earrings beeped rapidly. She had never seen a boy so efficiently lick icing from his fingers before, so quick that he was done before the detransformation was complete and Tikki flew out to give them privacy.

It was quite mesmerizing, actually.

Luka joined her on the bed, passing her a small stack of napkins and only taking one for himself to clean the saliva off his fingers. "I'm torn."

"Huh?" She stared cluelessly at him, having still been stuck on the icing thing. "Torn on what?"

"I'm glad you have a friend back at home, but I wish I could've met you earlier," he clarified. "We only got to meet because we both happened to become guardians."

"Oh. Yeah, I..." She stared down at her lap, twisting a corner of one of the napkins between her thumb and index finger. "Yeah. We could've spent so much more time together if we didn't have to deal with going between universes."

"The casual universe jumping," he added playfully with the tone of someone who, like her, didn't deal with anything remotely magical before receiving a miraculous.

They both chuckled, and Marinette noted to herself that they were doing it again. Their jobs took so much focus and their role for each other was to be support, but when all the chaos died down, they got into something surprisingly friendly, almost bordering on flirtatious if she was honest with herself. It was crazy, because they were both busy ladybug guardians with sporadic schedules from totally different worlds, but they had still found each other through their respective Sass and everything had gone well for them so far.

"Going well" was also about as perfect as she could ever ask for from her life, making it even more surreal. She giggled, more to herself than anything else, and leaned against Luka affectionately.

"If it's so casual, that makes it sound like I can come whenever I want," she dared to point out.

He didn't pull away from her. Rather, he leaned towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist and bringing her closer to him. The slight distance that had made her lean a little awkward before was quickly closed, a squeak escaping her as she felt his head against the top of hers.

His voice a soothing whisper, he told her, "That's exactly what I mean."

Her head jerked up to look at his face, him moving accordingly so she didn't accidentally bash their heads together. She'd been joking just a bit, not wanting to get her hopes up, but he looked entirely serious. The only thing distinctly not serious about him was the icing right next to his lips, taunting her.

It somehow didn't look embarrassing on him as she feared it would on her.

Reigning in the temptation, she reached up with her free hand, then realized it was free and brought it back down to grab a napkin. She wiped the icing, as well as a few crumbs, from his lips, which he welcomed and kept entirely still throughout the entire needlessly slow process.

"...Um, Luka—" she began.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of hands slapping against the nearby doorframe made her jump. She pressed herself against Luka for security, eyes darting on alert to the source of the noise: Anarka, looking just as bold and chaotic as she knew in her own world.

"Hey, Luka! I'm—" She ceased talking as she took in the sight of the two of them, brows raising in curiosity.

Marinette reminded herself that she was the fearless hero Ladybug to fight the urge to hide her face in Luka's chest. She could only imagine how this looked: Anarka's son, arm around who was a complete stranger to her, and said stranger was not only leaning against him but also had been in the process of wiping his lips for him as if he didn't have an entire hand he could've used to do it himself. The reality that she couldn't tell her was that she was a superhero partner to him from the multiverse, so she needed another excuse.

And the best excuse, in her mind, was an interpretable one with plausible deniability.

Thinking fast, she shoved nearly half of the remaining cinnamon roll into her mouth, chewing and bunching it up just enough to speak but not so much that it would be anything intelligible. She babbled complete muffled nonsense, making casual hand gestures like waving, pointing, and others that definitely meant nothing but could've been anything with the right mindset.

Without looking at him, she held the rest of the cinnamon roll up towards Luka's face, silently encouraging him to do the same if he felt it appropriate. She pushed aside all thoughts of an indirect kiss to consider later, focusing on the task at hand.

She felt an indication that Luka had bit in and slowly opened her fingers so he could inhale the rest of it. The feeling of his lips brushing her hand was also a thing she filed away for later, though she didn't doubt it showed on her face.

Having a reputation already for going along with all of her crazy ideas, Luka waved as well and spoke with words that might as well have been classified as sounds, just as she had. Anarka simply stared the whole time, watching the two of them pretend to make conversation with her that served as an adequate explanation for everything she'd just seen.

When they ran out of fake gestures and words to not actually say, they could only wait for the reaction and deal with what was to come. Beyond her Ladybug persona, no one had ever seen Marinette in Luka's world before, so it was uncharted territory.

Not missing a beat, Anarka grinned. Throwing her hands up, she admitted, "Well, I was heading out and thought I'd ask if y'needed anything, but I see you've got everything right here." She turned, but kept her eyes on them for a moment to add, "Introduce me properly sometime, hm~?"

With that, she left as if she'd never appeared in the first place. Marinette's heart raced, and she was stuck in place for a solid minute before exchanging equally red-faced expressions with Luka.

Uh oh?

[thatonecrookedsmile]

I decided to finally color and post this thing I made a few months ago since we're getting close to BATDR's anniversary.

Consider this a fun concept based on a few things at the very least,or a Headcanon Based On Nothing At All at most. The "basis" for this comes from the fact that the Keepers' body and head are some kind of suit, with the zipper and "lens" being the most notable details of this. Which I found interesting.

Now,could the fact that they look like suits just be a side effect of them being offshots of the Machine? Yeah,yes it could. At the end of the day,the fact that they look like that can only be summed up as "they were created that way". Wilson just accidentally created cool-looking OCs. I doubt we'll get any kind of lore drop for the Keepers in the future beyond what we already know about them (but I could always be wrong).

The moment of inspiration that led me to do these sketches was when I was reading FTB and I was thinking about Gent and their experiments for a bit. The Keepers ended up getting into those thoughts at some point,which resulted in me doing… this!

So,yeah,what if the Keepers, before the Dark Revival,were old GENT containment suits?

Essentially,in my head,when JDS closed its doors,Gent continued the ink experiments in its own workshop,and the suits above were worn by the company's scientists while conducting some of these experiments. While we don't know what else the guys at Gent were doing beyond what we saw in BATDR and FTB,I don't think it's far-fetched to say that not even their scientists would want to touch the damned ink,which,as we know,is best kept away from. So,the suits are used.

In 1952,the workshop was condemned and closed. Eventually,the location and by extension - the technologies,the experiments and things like the suits - ended up in the Ink Realm. Fast forward to 72/73,the whole thing about Wilson finding out and taking control of the Cycle happens. When it came to creating his own "guards" to help with his plans in the Cycle,I guess he just. Took stuff from the Gent workshop like the suits and other stuff like gears and pipes,threw it all through the Ink Machine and uhhhhhhh,boom,the Keepers are created.

Again,I wouldn't take this as a serious theory/speculation,and as said,more as ideas and concepts based on so little that I decided to put on paper. (Might as well consider all of this potential AU stuff)

Additional stuff:

- I didn't make the outlines and the helmet's lens glow in the first 2 sketches because I realized that it wouldn't make much sense in the suits? The Keepers,sure,make sense,but for the suits themselves? Not so much. So I left them "switched off",with the exception of the third sketch,done at the time when I hadn't thought about this detail any further.

- The idea for the fourth sketch,the gas mask,came to me while looking at reference images of real-life hazmat suits. I thought it might be intriguing to have Gent scientists wear these masks under their suits,so I sketched it out to get a better idea. The mask itself was based on one of the scrapped Keeper designs, the ones that had the more "alien" feel to them. I don't know if it would fit inside the Keeper suit,but it's still something I wanted to consider.

I also like this whole concept of the suits for two other reasons. First, it gives the Keepers an origin that predates Wilson and the Dark Revival. Second, reusing old Gent suits to create his own guards isn't that far-fetched for a man whose entire rise to power within the studio and plan to overthrow the Ink Demon has depended on the work (and existence) of others to come to fruition. So that wouldn't be so absurd.

Also,here's 2 bonus sketches. The second one has nothing to do with what I've said so far, it's just something I was playing around with at the time.

[wolfiemcwolferson]

hi love, i'm requesting 'zipping up their jacket for them' (but it's actually their race suit)

Hiiiiii

Pierre really has no idea what possesses him to take the job.

He works when he wants to work and no more. He posts his silly meal prep videos on Sunday and his workout tip of the week on Wednesday and he goes to spend the weekend with his family whenever he wants, so he has no idea what possesses him to take the job.

Except he does.

Really, deep down. He does know.

He doesn't like to look at it. Or think about it.

It's not something he's ever said out loud, but he knows as soon as his phone rings and he hears Charles' voice, he knows the only reason he agrees is because of the thing.

The being in love with his oldest friend thing.

He has to give up his precious work schedule and his posting schedule and the weekends with his family, but in exchange he gets to watch the man he loves bloom underneath Pierre's very careful, very precise workout plan.

They talk all night on the plane after a bad race - sometimes not even about the race - but Charles will laugh and then the next day, he shows up for their light workout and it all falls away.

It's something Pierre is particularly proud of and it makes the late nights and the lack of personal time worth it.

Because before he took this job, before he said yes to this, Charles used to call him and tell him how much he struggled to put it behind him, how much it would linger.

The triple headers would drag on and on and Charles would call him and he would be suffering and Pierre would try to ease it, but there was only so much he could do from his flat in Milan, but now...

More than halfway through the season and there's a rhythm to the weekend - to Charles climbing into the car before the GP.

They've talked about it over and over, worked on Charles' mental state, talked about what Pierre can do to make it as smooth as possible.

They talk about it while Charles has his feet in Pierre's lap on the plane, while Charles is stretched out on a mat in the gym, while the two of them run side by side on the track.

What they don't talk about it how to make Pierre's mental state better, how to help him handle it.

Because he'll never admit this to anyone - especially not Charles - but he stopped watching the race live. Not after he was sitting above Ferrari hospitality and watched Charles slam into the wall.

Pierre hadn't been able to breathe until he had watched Charles walking back into the garage, angry and shoulders set into a hard line.

After that it had been too much for him, and so he stopped watching them live until he had been beside Charles on the grid. The cars lined up, Charles with his silly little spray bottle and his headphones and Pierre with the love in his chest and Charles' extra towel.

"Time's up," Pierre says, nudging Charles' arm, holding out Charles' headphone case, already open and waiting for him to deposit his headphones into it. The song is over. Pierre has it down to an exact science and he knows the song is over.

Charles still grumbles about taking them out, but Pierre can see the way it's shifted behind his eyes. It's a habit - the words. Charles is already in the car, he's already checked out of this and into the car.

Pierre tucks the headphone case into his big obnoxious Ferrari branded bag and then he swings it behind his back because Charles is fiddling with his in-ears, making sure they're squashed the right amount.

He reaches over and zips the suit up, two quick tugs, adjusting it over Charles' shoulders while Charles beams at him.

Pierre won't ever admit this either, but he prays when he does it. A remnant of the faith that he has worked hard to cling to in spite of everything.

Keep him safe, bring him back, protect him.

It's selfish, but he does it. Keep him safe, one tug, bring him back, two tugs, protect him, velcro piece at Charles' throat.

"Calamar," Pierre says, his voice always catching as he holds his fist out for Charles to bump.

"Calamar," Charles echoes.

People are scattering, drivers are in cars, and Pierre has to go.

He has to go and watch from the garage with everyone else, and if he's lucky, he'll get to zip up Charles' race suit next weekend and three weekends from now and five weekends from now.

[manheeiim]

Nothing Lasts Forever - Slowly but Surely

ᥫ᭡ link to nothing lasts forever masterlist

After the graveyard "adventure"- according to JJ- they went to drop me off back at my house. John B shut the headlights off as we pulled up and he parked the van.

"It was nice to meet you guys." I say.

"Nice to meet you." Kiara sweetly says.

"Nice meeting you." Pope says.

"Bye, JJ." I say as I look over at JJ with a small smile.

"How about I stay with you?" He suggests making John B raise his eyebrows.

"H-huh?" I respond as I look into his eyes.

"I could stay with you for a bit. It'll be fine. My place isn't far from here." JJ says.

"Uh... sure." I say, I wasn't sure if he wanted a hook-up with me right now. I just wasn't that type of girl though.

He opens the van and we get out. He shuts the door and goes up to the passenger window, "Well, yonder ye. We'll be uh-going." JJ tells them before turning around and walking with me as we head sneakily to my bedroom window.

I open it carefully and sneak inside before JJ follows, but of course, he trips a bit as he gets in. We both freeze after the noise, and I pray it does not wake anyone up. Luckily, we heard nothing after a few moments and I let out a relieved sigh before going over to my bedroom door and making sure it was locked.

I take my shoes off before getting in bed. JJ gets in bed as well, not really waiting for an invite or anything. I don't mind though as we lay side by side.

"So, what was tonight even all about?" I softly ask, my voice having to keep quiet as to not wake anyone up.

JJ sighs, "John B's dad died a while back and... he's kind of in denial about it. He thinks that his dad is out there and that he's for some strange reason left clues for John B to find him. Like... a treasure hunt or some shit."

"Well, that sucks." I say. "But it's nice that the three of you are going along with it."

"Yeah, I mean, he's my bro so..." JJ trails off, shrugging a little.

"That's sweet of you." I softly say.

"You think so?" He asks in a teasing tone, his hand going up and resting on my hip. I blush a little at his touch as I nod.

"I still feel a bit bad about... about how I reacted at Lana's house." I admit.

"Why?" JJ asks.

"I should've comforted her... not- not walked out." I say.

"It's fine. You were fine." JJ says. "I... didn't exactly want to be there either." He tells me.

This side of JJ was much different from what I was used to and I was honestly shocked that I was even seeing this side of him so early into knowing him but it was comforting. I hadn't felt this comfortable around anyone else in a while and honestly, this was just the beginning of me opening up.

"Just... it brought me back to.. a time that I don't want to go back to." That is all I say. I was intentionally being a bit vague, to be honest. Though, even saying that was a lot for me.

JJ's eyes glance over my face for a moment before responding. "I get that." Is all he says before looking away. Obviously, there was stuff neither of us were ready to talk about. Not yet.

I sigh as I take a shaky breath, wiping a tear that seems to be forming in one of my eyes. Honestly, everything that happened was quite fresh so I was still dealing with... coping with it, I guess you could say.

"You good?" JJ asks.

"Yeah." I sniffle as I wipe the tear, taking a deep breath in.

Neither of us said anything and all I wanted to do right now was be hugged but I was scared. I knew that things were moving fast, in a way, or at least it felt that way to me. I refused to initiate that type of affection despite how much I wanted it.

Suddenly, JJ is pulling me in against him, his arms wrapping around me as my face rests against his chest. We just lay there in silence for a while before eventually, I drift off to sleep, JJ following shortly after.

[saintsenara]

Cedric Diggory/Ron Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Ron Weasley, or Ron Weasley/Viktor Krum if you haven’t done these!

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

cedric diggory/ron weasley

which @shivstar has also noted the deranged potential of:

and the reason you're all keen is because it's... canon.

after all, ron tells us in goblet of fire that cedric's powers of sexiness [enough that he's the only person in the series to get an "extremely handsome" out of ol' mr potter - which even tom riddle at the height of his twink era doesn't manage] caused him to temporarily lose his mind:

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall - she was standing there talking to Diggory - and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!"

ron may think that what happened here was that he fell under fleur's blonde bombshell spell, but - since goblet of fire is the book in which he really gets to grip with his unexamined bisexuality - we all know the truth...

fleur delacour/ron weasley

which isn't to say that i don't also back this.

a hill i will die on is that ron - who canonically looks like bill, has a daring streak a mile wide, and has a real soft spot for women with no social skills - would have managed to pull fleur if he just had a morsel more rizz. his issue in goblet of fire isn't that he's the sort of mid-tier hunk that fleur only perceives as a blur in her peripheral vision, it's that he has absolutely no sauce to speak of.

but give him a copy of twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches three years earlier... he'd have left roger davies in the dust.

viktor krum/ron weasley

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though... bet he gets people fawning over him all the time... Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry... I wouldn't mind giving him my bed."

presented without comment.

[i hadn't realised this was yet more fuel for the dron agenda as well... kronco nation, rise up...]