#it’s always crack ship o clock

[dark-and-kawaii]

Damaged

Rolan x F!Reader/Tav

⋆˙⟡♡ 18+ Dark Content

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request: So could I request some Rolan noncon? Like maybe reader is a human Fem tav who is also under apprentice ship. Rolan is getting abused and he's getting where he needs to take his rustrations out on something and there is sweet little reader always so nice and helpful to him.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I really enjoyed receiving this request and I’m so sorry it took forever to post!!! I hope you’re still here and end up loving it xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Noncon/Dubcom | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Ao3

It was supposed to be just another day for you, organize the books in the tower, test some potions, doing as Lorrokan says. But today, unbeknownst to you, barriers are to be shattered, and boundaries would cease to exist…

Rolan watched as you diligently put away books and tidied up the shelves. The weight of his frustrations bore down upon him, fueled by the abuse he endured from both his and your mentor, Lorroakan. His bruised eyes fixated on you, your innocent demeanor and kind nature serving as a stark contrast to the darkness that began to consume him…

You were much smaller than he, probably weaker too. No, he knew you were weak, the only reason you were even here was simply because Lorroakan liked the way your clothing hugged your hips… And you were so eager to please him, Rolan thought. But that is what made you weak. And Rolan was tired of feeling weak.

As the clock ticked closer to night's embrace, the tower grew eerily quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustling of pages and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards from you both staying late. Rolan's mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between the wanting of releasing the anger inside him and the guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

Unable to resist any longer, Rolan approached you, "Pardon, if you don’t mind. I need your assistance with something," he said, his voice soft yet commanding. His eyes bore into yours, and it did nothing but make you feel uneasy.

"O-oh? Rolan, I- uhm, what is it you need help with?” you stammered, taken back by his sudden close proximity.

"Lorroakan, he's been a bit rough with me lately, and I could really use a healing scroll..." his words filled with deceit unbeknownst to you.

You smiled and nodded, "Oh, of course! There’s plenty of those scrolls to spare! Lorroakan must be training you hard-," and so, you raised your hand to cast the spell, but before you could utter a word, Rolan's hands grabbed a hold of your wrists and pushed you against the bookcase, knocking over stacks of books and parchments.

"Rolan!? What are you-!"

He hovered over you, a crazed look in his eye as he held your arms firmly above your head, "You're so much weaker than I." His knee pushed against your inner thigh, “and yet-“ spreading them apart and giving him room to move closer to you, “he never raises his hands to you.”

"P-please, stop," you begged, but it fell on deaf ears as Rolan ignored your pleas.

"I’m so sick," his hands began to roam over your chest, “So sick of being the outcast-“ squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples through the embroidered fabric, “sick of being the only one he treats this way."

You whimpered and struggled beneath him, trying to get away, but your efforts proved futile, he was so much stronger than you.

"Wh-why only me?!" Rolan’s voice cracked, the dam holding his emotions at bay finally broke. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his body quivering with rage and sorrow, his eyes brimming with tears, "Why only me?!" He began to press himself into you further, his hardened member pressing against your groin…

"You're so much better than I am... You're not broken like me." Rolan whispered, his tears falling and hitting your cheeks. He was shaking now, his breaths came out short and fast. He couldn't control himself anymore, all the years of pent-up frustration came pouring out as his anger and pain fueled his actions.

"I can't take it anymore. I can't. I can't..." He repeated over and over, his grip on you tightening just before he tossed you to the ground with him

"Please, please don't do this," you cried, "I-I don't want this. P-please, Rolan! Y-you’re so much better than he or-“

Rolan pulled your sorceress robe up, exposing your lower half, "Hush!" he growled.

His eyes trailed over your golden laced panties. "Does he see these? Is that why he doesn’t abuse you with his vile hands?"

"Wh- what!?" Your body shook as his hand snaked underneath the delicate fabric, “n’ this- this isn’t like you!”

"Nothing is wrong with me. You just don't understand," his fingers pressed against your clit, slowly rubbing in circular motions. Your body responded involuntarily, betraying you. A small whimper escaping from your lips.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Rolan insisted as he pushed you his fingers inside you, "There's nothing wrong with me." he repeated.

"P-please, Rolan... D-don't-" You gasped as you felt a rush of pleasure. You tried to push him away but the sudden feeling was so overwhelming as he began to curl his sharp talons inside you. Despite it all, the tiefling was careful enough not to damage your insides.

You felt a rush of hot pleasure coursing through you. "S-stop," you breathed. He slipped yet another finger inside, pumping them in and out, curling and uncurling them. Your breath hitched and you moaned, your back arching into his touch. "P-please! Please s-s-top! Ah!"

Your mind was swimming with pleasure, drowning out your common sense. This was wrong! This wasn't like him! Your eyes began to water, unable to comprehend the situation. He was mad, driven to the brink of insanity, and now he was taking it out on you.

Rolan removed his fingers from your slippery pussy, a trail of your fluids clinging to them and a thin string connecting the two.

You were panting your hand covering your flushed face. Tears streaming down your face as you shook. You hear him free himself from his confines and could feel him tear away your panties, the only barrier between his cock and your innocence. His stomach churned, he hated himself for this but he couldn’t stop. His breathing quickened as he pressed himself against your entrance, his hand gripping his cock tightly...

"St-stop… please… Y-you don’t want t-to do this, R-Rolan…” You pleaded again, your voice cracking as tears tainted your visage, but it was no use, his mind was made up.

"I can't. I can't, I can't, I’m so sorry-,” Rolan muttered, his voice barely audible as his cock forced its way into you, stretching you beyond your limits. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered how a tieflings cock would feel, you just didn’t expect it to be so long and girthy… It was even ribbed and had a slight curve to it.

Rolan pulled his cock back until your pussy gripped it tightly by the head, he waited for a second and then put all his weight behind the next thrust. He gripped your throat tightly, forcing your back to arch and pushing his cock as deep as it would go. He didn't wait for you to adjust to him, instead, he began to pound his cock deep into your womb, his balls slapping against your ass.

He grunted and moaned as his body took over, his primal urges controlling him. You screamed and sobbed, clawing at his hand around your throat.

"Ngh! Rolan!!! Plea- ahh! St-stop," you cried, tears streaming down your face.

But Rolan was unrelenting, he fucked you mercilessly, “Gh’ Tell me- Tell me I’m not worthless!” his thrusts gaining in speed as he slammed into you again and again.

He pulled out at an agonizing slow face, making sure you could feel every bump and ridge on his thick cock before pushing back in, hard enough that it knocked the wind out of your lungs

"I-I-, Rolan, ple-pleeaseee- Ahh~" You screams began to twist into reluctant moans as his cock rubbed against your inner walls. Your eyes fluttered open to look at the monster that had you pinned in the tower's library, but what you saw tore at your very being. Rolan's eyes were glazed over, his pupils shrunken as he stared blankly at you, tears fell from his cheeks onto yours as he continued his assault.

"R-Rolan?” You whispered, trying to get his attention, but to no avail. He was gone, his body moving on its own accord, his mind somewhere else entirely. You reached up and cupped his cheek, brushing away his tears, "I-im so sorr- ngh’!”

Rolan grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms up above your head, his grip tight enough to leave marks.

"Don't touch me!" he spat, "I'm not worth any pity."

Your mind raced with all the possible things you could say, but what came out was a choked sob. He had endured so much… You only wish you knew sooner… Wrapping your legs around him, you brought his body closer to yours…

Rolan's body shuddered, his breathing labored as his cock twitched inside you, "I-I'm so close- I'm so close, please," his thrusts becoming erratic as his cock plunged into you.

Your mind began to focus on the pleasure that crept upon you, your eyes tightly shutting as you came, squirting on his cock, the tiniest puddle pooling beneath you...

"N-not inside!” You tried to wiggle free from him, but his weight pinned you to the ground, his nails digging into your skin.

But it was too late, the moment your eyes locked with his, the floodgates opened and your womb was filled with his seed. His hips stilled and his cock pulsed with each new burst. Your body convulsed with pleasure as his cock emptied inside of you. You hated yourself for cumming, hated that he was the one to bring you to your climax like this, hated that he made you feel this way in this moment… But a twisted part of you was glad it was you who was the one…

Rolan was kind, gentle, even considerate at times… You felt guilty that you sowed Lorroakan to corrupt and break such a soul…

“Oh Gods," he groaned, his voice thick with shame.

Rolan's hands stayed firm on you, his body pressing into you as his head rested on your shoulder, his breathing ragged, his eyes closed as his tears soaked your shirt.

"I-I'm sorry, (y/n)," he whimpered, "I am so sorry."

His words stung, and yet despite what transpired, your arms reached up to wrap around him, pulling him even closer.

"Shh, Rolan, please- just, just stop."

Rolan's eyes went wide and his body tensed up, his arms and legs trembling. "Oh Gods, what have I done?”

"You’re not worthless, I promise…” You whispered.

The tower was silent once more, the only sounds that could be heard were Rolan’s sobs. His tears running down your neck, his cock still buried inside you…

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

More than half of my ships are basically bundles of twigs tied together by twine.

I’ve got my two hands to type paddle, so these ships will still get out to sea. (Just barely.😁)

Ahoy!😏

[deardolly]

doing quests with the inazuma boys

thoma always makes sure to let you have your freedom when the two of you are out and about whenever ayaka has got something for the two of you to do. he enjoys watching you do the work, and only hops in if its apparent you are in desperate need of help. not to say the man is lazy, but he just loves to watch you do your thing! “thoma get over here!” you’d shout as as you hardly miss another attack fierce by the mirror maiden. “m’coming! i just thought you could do it for yourself, y’know? see if you can own up to all those rumors!” he would say with the brightest grin of an angel, sparking the slightest annoyance in you. “now let me handle this, you’ve done an amazing job already!” thoma was one that constantly pissed your companion paimon off, but she has no choice as but to quickly grow fond of him as well. especially since once you’ve completed your expedition, he almost always makes sure to treat the two of you to some delicious green tea from taroumaru afterwards! and as you drink up and get warm, a certain blonde will constantly murmur out his long apologies for the troubles he’s caused as you embarked on your daily journeys, nothing too new.. but always, will he make sure to bandage you up and check for any wounds. he can’t be a good bodyguard if he lets you get hurt! working beside thoma at times can be horribly difficult, but his kind heart and determination is something you can never get tired of.

completing tasks for beidous crew beside kazuha has always been a thrilling journey for the both of you. the two of you have been marked as the infamous ‘perfect adventurers pair’, as the crews captain would always say. as you lay a last damaging elemental strike to the few nobushi enemies left, your partner in crime swings in with a deathly swirl, forcing your opponents to their unlucky demise. fighting alongside kazuha is like yin and yang. he always takes the right amount of time to match your fight style, constantly ensuring the best combat. it is common for the two of you to keep back to back, watching your opponents from all corners of your vision. “the wind rises at nine-o-clock traveller.” you hear from behind you. it took you quite some time to adjust to his plenty synonyms, but if anything it works better for the both of you so the enemy will be unable to catch onto your fighting tactics. and once all is done, kazuha feels at peace resting beside you high up the tower of beidou’s ship, playing a mellow tune from a leaf he found on your way back and telling you many tales of what he’s experienced from his time back home in inazuma. the perfect adventurers pair might just be a nickname you do not mind so much anymore.

to be blessed to work beside the general of the sangonomiya resistance is something one could only dream of. but to you, this is all but new. “you stay back and handle those guys, these ones belong to me.” came the familiar voice of gorou dashing by you, and charging straight to the enemies in front of him. when the two of you are found in battle, it is most common for you both to keep to yourselves. not that it is bad, but gorou favors his independence in a fight, and he knows you’re more than capable of getting rid of your opponents in no time. he rests his full faith in you. when you two break apart and take down whatever monsters dare block your path, it quickly gets the job done. he always makes sure to group back together with you immediately afterwards, shares his resources and food as you continue to embark on your journey. at times, the general can get a bit ‘too’ commanding. nothing rash, although being bossed around isn’t too fun. gorou means the best of course, but just makes sure to keep the task at hand before things get out of line. he is an absolute sweetheart afterwards, so please forgive him. “your excellency, the traveler truly is faultless on the battlefield, they never fail to astonish me!” you once heard him praise to kokoro. if you hadn’t stopped eavesdropping back then, one may assume he has began taking a liking to you!

“this is not what we had planned scaramouche” you groaned as you flicked off the remainders of the mud from your attire. he has insisted the two of you were to wait out and attack once the enemy had fallen asleep, but the moment they were in his sight once you reached the area for your stakeout, he just straight-up attacked them. although his reasoning was due to his pent up anger that they had taken a treasure with much value to him. little did he know, the treasure hoarders had plenty, plenty, plenty of shovels. you learned from that experience to resist coming to his rescue ever again. speaking of, when scaramouche is off doing his work he usually makes sure to take his time and think tactically with his decisions. but one small mistake, is enough to raise the harbingers quick-found temper. he does his own thing in battle, and expects you to just follow along. but quite frankly any decision you make will tick him off. “you are attacking way too slow.” “hurry the fuck up.” “you are so weak.” his constant critique enough to send a man mad. at times, it leaves you to wonder why do i still put up with him? but it is the few, quite rare delicacies that you remember why you stick by his side. when he saved you one too many times, brushing it off as though he did not care. although, at the end of every fight, a certain anonymous never fails to leave a perfectly cooked sweet madame dish by the front of where you dwell every night. scaramouche comes off as a completely apathetic murderer to most, but you are aware one you can crack that rough, rough outer shell, he isn’t all too bad to fight with.

[op-imaginesandmore]

How would Issho/Fujitora, Doflamingo, Smoker, Arlong, and Gin react to their s/o dying in their arms? (human s/o for all of them including Arlong) Sorry there are so many the posts you've made so far I've enjoyed immensely. I love your style of writing! (:

I know it’s been *checks notes* actual years since I have touched this blog, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at a few of the asks I have in my inbox. I’m going to do just Smoker, and with each of the asks with multiple characters I will pick the one I am most comfortable with writing and go from there. I hope you like it! And also, to anyone who reads this and likes it, thank you! But my ask box will remain closed until…idk, probably a long time. I don’t want to get any one’s hopes about about anything.

Pairing: Smoker x GN!reader

Warnings: Angst, character death (you asked for it), mild descriptions of injury, mentions of blood, implied smut (mildest of spice), unbeta’d if that is a warning

***

The OP was supposed to be a simple one. Get in, do reconnaissance, stay under the radar, come back with what info they needed on the pirate crew, get out.

No one thought Big Mom herself was going to recognize Y/N, because you were good at your job. You had been spying for the government for years, you’d worked with Smoker as one of his subordinates, had infiltrated countless pirate crews, revolutionary bases, treasonous scum that thought they could get away with anything, and had always succeeded in your job.

Lay low, go unnoticed, get the info, come back to him. It was a perfectly organized system that was like clock work, each gear turning for the purpose of civilian protection, and justice.

Until now.

Blood soaked the beach he was kneeling on, who’s it was, he had no idea. Could be his, was probably the pirates’ that were scattered around the Vice-Admiral like debris after a storm, but what infuriated him most was it was most definitely yours.

Wheezes, broken and wet, escaped from your lips, swollen eyes looking up into stoic grey that was like looking into twin hurricanes. Anger, righteous and intense, swirled around with frustration, concern, grief, and an emotion you knew from your quiet moments between soft sheets and the hard planes of his body.

So gentle you barely felt it, he lifted you from the sand like something precious, your blood dripping down his arms and pooling beneath your broken body. Your eyes, swollen and bruised, squinted up at him and a soft smile cracked painfully across your lips.

“Hey handsome” you rasped, a cough that was soaked with blood spurting out. Smoker put a large hand through your matted hair, jaw clenching as he tightened his hold on you.

“I’m gonna get you to the ship’s infirmary” he seethed through his teeth, the usual multiple cigars he kept there like pacifiers long gone. He made to get up, but the cry that came from your lips was shrill and heartbreaking. He immediately stopped, holding you to his chest in a hold soft enough for a newborn.

“I know it hurts, but you need-“

“Do you remember Alabasta?”

Smoker stopped, looking down at your broken body that had the audacity to be giving him the smile that always managed to make his heart flutter in his chest like a crushing school girl’s. He swallowed thickly, not trusting his voice and opting for a nod.

“You were such a baby about Strawhat, I thought you were going to implode when he had his crew mate save your life.” You reached a trembling hand to his face, stroking the rough stubble of his jaw. Almost involuntarily, Smoker leaned into the soft touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as memories of their time on the desert island came to mind.

It had been the first time you had ever yelled at him, calling him reckless and blind. Telling him you were thankful for Strawhat, grateful he had saved his “stupid, sorry, ass” so you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. He had retaliated with a practiced speech about being your superior, about how you should worry more about your job than what he was doing, how you shouldn’t talk to him like that.

Then you had the nerve to yell at him that you didn’t have a choice but to worry about him. When he yelled at you back about the why, instead of answering him you kissed him square on the mouth.

Their first kiss was in the moment, it was all teeth clacking and sudden and Smoker had been blindsided, but also hadn’t been. The two of you had been flirting with the line between officer and government agent for months at that point, subtle glances and bold, shameless flirting on your part had morphed into soft and subtle touches and hours of listening to you talk about everything and anything.

When the shock of it had worn off a second after you started kissing him, he hadn’t expected for himself to kiss you back. He had adjusted your chin, softened the kiss, and wrapped his arms possessively around your waist and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his own waist in a way that sent chills down his spine as he carried you to his desk. He set you down upon it, gentle as can be, but your legs stayed around his waist, his hips grinding into yours in a way that had him growling. Your lips had been like soft, plush, velvet on his own chapped ones, tongue sinful in its exploration, running against his to beg for entrance.

The two of you broke apart, you were panting, your face flush as you put your head on his chest and listened to the quick thumping of his heart. He smelled like a cigar, a hint of sweet fruit in a haze of earth and smoke that always managed to make your head spin. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you licked the taste of him from them.

“I worry about you because I care about you Smoker” you looked up at him, your eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the sunlight coming in through the porthole of his cabin “probably more than what’s appropriate for a working relationship, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.” You put your hand on his face, stroking the apple of his cheek in a way no one had ever dared touch him before “if you don’t want this though, we can stop right now and never talk about it a-“

Smoker was kissing you again, softer but with a passion that turned your whole body into jelly that molded into his. It was brief, too brief for your liking but he was looking at you with a smoldering gaze that promised more.

“We do this, we tell no one.” He said with conviction “I can’t have my subordinates thinking I have favorites, and fraternizing could get me and you in a lot of trouble.”

You nodded, understanding alighted in your eyes as you coyly bit your kiss swollen bottom lip.

“If that means I get to see your smoke powers at work in the bedroom, I’ll take an oath of silence”

He felt his body react, his hardened length against your thigh making you squeeze your legs together, bringing him impossibly closer.

Smoker’s chest tightened at the memory.

“I’m glad” you said, swollen gaze growing distant “that it all happened the way it did. The last year and a half has been the best of my life” another cough, violent and cracking in its intensity that it had you whimpering into Smokers chest, and his eyes were burning with the tears that were inevitable now.

“Y/N-“ Smoker started, the deep rumble of his voice cracking “baby, you’re gonna be fine, let’s just-“ he took a breath, steeling himself to try and lift you up again, but your head falling limp against his chest stopped him, made the breath leave his lungs and, for the first time in a very long time, Smoker felt true terror grip his careful self control.

“Y/N?” His voice, so unlike the commanding bass it usually was, soft and broken as the body he held “Y/N? Sweetheart c’mon, wake up” he shook you, your head lolling to one side and then the next awkwardly, before it rested back on his chest and Smoker realized your uneven breathing had stopped, the rasping, painful breaths gone quiet and the only sounds to be heard on the bloodied beach were Smoker’s own uneven hyperventilating “Y/N please! You-you can’t do this! Baby, c’mon-open those pretty eyes, please! Y/N? Y/N!”

He held on tight to your body as he slowly broke down, the tears running rivers down his face that had smudges of your blood on it from holding your body up to it, his face buried into your hair as if he could revive you if he held on a little tighter, begged a little harder to whatever god or devil would listen. His cries broke through the silence, their only companion the lapping of water against the sand and gore. He rocked back and forth, clinging to your lifeless body like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

That was how Tashigi found her Vice-Admiral, sobbing into your hair as he begged you to wake up. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, but she had to keep him moving, had to remind him of the duty he still held.

“Vice-Admiral Smoker?” She breathed, caution in her tone, heartbreak threatening to pull her under when his breath caught. He looked up at Tashigi with a tsunami of emotions that she had never seen him display. Heartbreak and grief worked in tandem to make the ever stoic and statuesque officer crumble to his knees.

“I’ve gathered the survivors of our platoon, we’re awaiting your orders, sir”

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Smoker looking down at his dead lover, the emotions that had been raging across his face draining from his being, and was replaced once again with the careful stoicism that his position required of him.

He got up slowly, you still cradled against his chest as he looked out at the horizon. It was another long moment before he spoke.

“We bury our dead, then we take the fight to the one who started this.” There was a fury in his words that struck fear into Tashigi, a fear for how reckless her Vice-Admiral was about to be against a Yonko.

“But Smo-“

“Did I fucking stutter?” He whipped his head around, the grey of his eyes burning with an unbridled rage that seemed barely contained “I’m not gonna rest until every last piece of filth that carries the name of Charlotte are wiped from every ocean from the East Blue to Raftel.” He glanced down at the body in his arms, a soft, broken look before the rage hit again.

“They’re gonna pay for what they’ve taken, I’ll make sure of it personally.”

[acourtofsnakes]

Gaa’tayl - Rogue Chapter 4| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

Summary: After making your decision, the race is on to try and save Mando’s life. But when things start to go south, a part of you breaks open that you hadn’t let yourself feel for a long time. How will it change you? And how will it shape whats to come?

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, first aid, little bit of swearing, hint of angst? some very faint fluff, pining thoughts because who wouldn’t, it’s Mando

Trigger warnings: beginnings of a panic attack, vicious thoughts, flashback to attempted suicide, personification of depression/negative thoughts using triggering - please be careful, my inbox is always open if you need to talk♥︎

Word count: 5394

AN: This chapters easter egg hint: Can you find the quote originally said by a purple grape with an affinity for shiny stones?👀

Also, gif isn’t necessarily relevant to the main plot of this chapter but... you’ll see why we have hands as a gif. 

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo 

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl 

Mando’a Translation: Gaa'tayl  - Help

Blood.

There was blood everywhere. 

In your hair, over your clothes.

It was coating your neck and your face. You could taste it. Coppery, hot. 

~Screaming was still echoing around the street, heart-wrenching cries of those who had just seen their loved ones forced into the air and torn apart by the explosion. The smell of metal and smoke mixed with the stench of blood and burning flesh. 

Blood. 

You could taste it. 

Your parent’s blood, maybe your own. The taste of it was in your mouth.~

Your heart thundered in your chest as you stared down at the Mandalorian.

You’d been watching him, knowing you needed to decide and then he’d gasped. And just… went still. You felt his blood pulse out under your hands and then he was just quiet. 

You couldn’t hear his ragged breathing anymore. 

Was he…

~You pushed your hands against your mothers neck, desperate to feel for the pulse that you’d felt for the last 12 years of your life.

Nothing. There was nothing there. She was dead. Your mother. Your sweet, strong mother who sung you lullabies and taught you how to dance… was dead.~

He couldn’t be. 

You dared to risk lifting a hand from the jagged hole in his side and pressed your fingertips against his neck. You knew there was a small slither of skin here, you’d seen it yesterday as he leant forward to look at something. You pushed your fingers deeper into the rapidly cooling skin of his neck, waiting. Hoping. 

There was nothing. 

No, no, there had to be. There had to be something. 

You swallowed, calming yourself enough to concentrate. You ducked your head down, like it could help you focus on the skin beneath your fingers. 

There. 

Some kind of choked noise escaped your lips as you felt his pulse, weak and fluttering, but there. Undiluted fear ran through your veins. This was on you now. 

And so, the clock was reset.

You wasted no time, ripping off your cloak and using the length of it wrap around his waist. It was nowhere enough, not enough pressure for a tourniquet or anything even remotely close because of the armour lining his body. However, it would serve to try and soak up some of the blood. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling the Mandalorian to sit up. Then rose into a crouch and hauled him up so you were both standing. 

Only to immediately collapse as your knees buckled with the lightning bolts of agony that speared across your ribs. Fuck. Right. Broken ribs. Stars exploded across your vision but you sucked in a deep, painful breath. We’ve dealt with worse. This isn’t about you know. Get up.

You dragged your feet back under you, pulling the Mandalorian up again, holding his weight against your good side. 

Prey helping hunter. 

In, out. A shallow, slow breath that didn’t hurt quite so much, and then you began to walk, half dragging the Mandalorian along with you. You couldn’t manage any more than a slow walk, your own injuries and pull of his amour and dead weight threatening to drag you down again. 

No, no. Not dead. Unconscious. He’s unconscious. Get him to the ship, clean it, spray it with bacta-spray, cauterise it, bind it. That’s all you need to do. 

You repeated this like a mantra as you walked back through the street, through those puddles of light. 

Get him to the ship, clean it, spray it with bacta-spray, cauterise it, bind it.

You repeated it again and again, even when the skies opened and rain lashed down, loosening your grip on the shiny metal and dragging you both down. 

Get him to the ship. 

There it was, such a welcome sight you might have cried. You fumbled on the arm that you’d slung around your shoulder, pressing buttons on his vambrace until the ramp opened and soft light and warmth called you inside. 

Hunter and prey stumbled up the ramp, and you just got him inside, managed to lay him down in front of a big heavy crate. 

You took a moment, darkness threatening to overcome you and a ringing in your ears. You shook your head sharply, pushing it off and then dropped to your knees, looking over his body. The wound was on his side, in between where the front and back plates of his armour were attached. 

Thank the Maker. You didn’t know what you would have done if it was closer to his armour. You unsheathed your knife, frantically cleaning it on your damp tunic and then quickly cut away a patch of fabric that was over and around the wound, gritting your teeth when you had to coax the torn threads from the hole. 

Which had been acting like a dam. Scarlet blood immediately began to flood from the jagged flesh, soaking the floor below him, your hands. 

You blinked, unable to stop staring for a second. How did so much blood come out of someone?

Memories hounded at your shoulders, threatening to drag you under, toward a market square, a dusty floor. 

Clean it. 

You nodded to yourself, the order in your mind and then scrambled to your feet. A quick search revealed some clean rags and a half full canteen of water. You grabbed the cauteriser and the med-kit on your way back to him, resting it beside you like it was sacred and then you turned to the wound. You wiped your hands on your knees, then dipped the cloth in water, beginning to gently, but quickly dab away the blood. 

Bloody water pooled beneath the Mandalorian, so you hurriedly shoved your cloak under him to soak it up so he wouldn’t be lying in water. 

Spray it. 

Your hands shook as you turned to the little metal box beside you, so much so that it took you 3 attempts to open the latch. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help the exasperated sigh at the rubbish of scraps of bandage that were mere threads, empty wrappers, all littering the top. Really, Mando?

You pawed though the med-kit, turning out empty wrappers and.. nothing else. 

What? 

There was no bacta-spray. No bandages. Hell, there wasn’t even a needle and thread for you to stitch the damn skin together. All you had was a bunch of wadded up fabric from a rag and some water. Why didn’t this man have any medical supplies? He was a Mandalorian for Maker’s sake. He probably had an injury list to rival yours, yet he didn’t even have so much as a needle?

You groaned, lifting a shaking hand to your face for a moment, breathing shallowly through your nose as another wave of agony seared through your ribs and the old injury in your shoulder. 

Your shoulder.

The one that was clean. Bound. 

That’s where the last of the medical supplies had gone, used on your own injury when he brought you away from Sorgan. 

You looked up at his unconscious form, horror in your expression, in your heart. The wound was weeping still, deep, surely missing vital organs because he would have been dead instantly in that alleyway. 

You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t risk getting a medic from the town, one because he didn’t have the time, and two because… well, they’d sell you out. Know who you were, the bounty. 

Your heart began to beat faster, it usual rhythmic thumps turning frantic, uneven. 

It was your fault that there was nothing to save him. 

You couldn’t breathe. 

Just like it was your fault he had been hurt in the first place. 

You couldn’t save him. 

Darkness swirled inside you, recognising what was happening to your body. 

He was going to die… because of you. 

Just like your parents. And everyone else after. 

With no warning, you chest constricted, steel bands wrapping around your lungs, crushing them from the inside out with a pain deeper than your cracked ribs. A roaring surged through your ears and suddenly the ship was spinning in circles. 

The beast, that poisonous beast that slumbered within you lifted its head, scenting your anxiety and fear and it purred with sick delight. Your spiralling was like a siren call and it crawled up, up, up and that seductive velvety voice that hounded you, began to whisper to you inside your head, “Hello, darling. It’s been a while.”

No. No not again. Not another dead body, not another tally against your name. 

“Murderer. Murderer. You killed your parents. You killed your friends. You killed everything even remotely good that’s ever been in your life.”

A sob began to build in your throat, an extra pressure that had you gasping for air, hunching over the floor-

“Look at you, crying. So weak. So pitiful. You deserve every single person that’s ever come after you, deserve every ounce of pain that you’ve been dealt. You call yourself a wolf, but you are a monster.”

It was right. That chasm of fear and darkness that always stayed with you was right. Of course it was. It had been right all those years ago, and the words it was whispering into you like silken poison were true. 

“Exactly, my darling. I am born of that savage beast in you, remember? You created me, you formed me from the truth and knowledge that everyone you touch dies. You have tried to deny this part of yourself for so long, darling, so, so long. But you will never escape it. This is your destiny. To kill those that come near you. ” 

You shook your head, tears flooding down your cheeks now as you wrapped your arms around your middle. The movement jolted your ribs, but it’s lick of fiery pain barely made it through the agony in your chest. I can run from it. I can escape it, you’re wrong, you’re wrong!! That’s not my destiny. I can make up for it, I can be good, I AM good-

A silken laugh and then a soft sigh, like it almost felt sorry for you, “Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now it's here. You have let the Mandalorian get hurt for you, and now he will die.”

No… no. No, not him. He can’t. He saved me, he’s good, I can see it. He has a son. I deserve the death sentence, but not him. Please, someone, anyone. Save him, please save him-

“No one is coming to help you, darling. You have finally done it. You have killed a father whilst his son sleeps just down the hallway.” It purred, caressing the inside of your head with claws, “Give in, darling. It’s time to give in. You eluded my call once before, but that won’t happen this time. Your pretty power won’t save you now, not now you pushed it away. Come to me.. escape the pain, finish what you should have gone through with years ago…”

An irresistible darkness reached out a hand, dropping the memory down onto you before you could stop it.

~~A glass vial, a shimmering poison you stole from the market. 

Rain, pounding down around you as you looked up at the moon. 

Water, crashing below the rocky outcrop you stood on.

Burning, a feeling like liquid fire inside you as that sweet, shimmering poison slipped down your throat.

I’m sorry. 

A final look at the moon, so big and beautiful as you turned around, your heels hanging off the end.

Goodbye.

Wind, rushing past your ears.

The icy crush of water as it devoured your body, pulling you into it’s shadowy depths. 

The fire turning molten, slipping through your blood, devouring you as the water has, coaxing you to close your eyes as your body melts from the inside out.

Quiet, a heady quiet as you succumbed to the beast in your chest that was purring with glee.

Nothing.”~~

And then… something echoed within you. Caught the attention of the beast. 

“No. Not again.” It’s snarl was predatory, dangerous. 

The flashback came easier this time, 

~~A hum began to fill the cottony silence in your head, waking you. 

This wasn’t right You weren’t supposed to wake up, you were supposed to be free from the pain and the destruction you caused. 

Easy, it seemed to whisper, relax. It is not your time yet, you still have much to experience. 

Protest flooded your body as you started to feel your limbs again. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to come back. You didn’t deserve to. 

“Yes, you do.”, it whispered. “It will be tough, there will be more pain and running, I’m afraid, but it will start a fire within you, that will only grow to serve you. You will triumph over this fear, you will become the warrior that you have always been. There will come a time, when things will change. You will do something you wouldn’t normally do, you will save one that deserves to be saved. Rules will be broken, and something new will be forged. Two lives will be forever entwined. Awaken now, and begin again.”~~

Heat began to envelop you, coaxing your stiff limbs to relax, drawing focus in your mind and making you come back to yourself. The rain beating against the outside of the ship, the smell of blood, two pairs of floppy ears at your side as they looked up at you. 

You turned your head, blinking through your tears at the Mandalorian, who’s life was hanging by a single thread. 

Your body shuddered as you leant over his unconscious form. A tight feeling curled in your chest, whispering to you. 

Let me out. I can save him.

You shook your head, you couldn’t. You’d hidden it away for so long, such a long time. You didn’t even know what to do  

Let me out. Let me save him.

You sobbed, a soft noise of defeat, a noise of relief, and you moved your hands to on his side. You whispered out loud, “Save him.” and then… let go

A deep, primal surge took over your body, shaking it, making goosebumps rise to your skin, a feeling lance through your spine. It wasn’t a pain… more a like a release of tension as ever cell in your body thrummed.  

You shuddered from head to toe, feeling the cage that you had spent 20 years building shatter like nothing. Just like that. Not forcing its way out, no clawing to be let loose. 

It was gentle. It overrode the malignant beast of darkness and despair, smothering it in light. 

Powerful, of course, for being shut away for so long but… gentle. It was the energy that roamed through the galaxy, flowed in every single living thing, connected them all together. 

It slipped from the cage you had bound it in, humming in delight as it was allowed to join with you again. 

Free. 

It rolled out of you in waves, rattling the walls, the boxes on the floor. 

It made the lights flicker on and off as it bumped up against the walls and the floor. 

That power healed your ribs as it poured out of you, and then honed itself, as if knowing you didn’t possess the control that was needed. 

It swept down your arms, caressing you like a comforting sweep of a hand, soothing you. You felt it glide over your knuckles, slip along and over the Mandalorian’s body like silk and then…

His wound healed. The ragged flesh knitted back together and the blood seeped back into the Mandalorian’s body where it belonged. It replenished him, saved him, leaving only a red line behind, a scar. 

That power, now having done its job, slipped from your body and left you spent. Shattered. With its final act, it whispered a sweet song of sleep and safety to you. 

With a soft noise, your eyes fluttered shut and you collapsed forward over the Mandalorian’s now relaxed form.

~

A caress of your hair began to coax you from your slumber. 

Long fingers, pushing into your hair at the crown of your head, and trailing through slowly all the way over to the back of your neck. 

You hummed softly, shifting your head because the pillow beneath you was hard and cold. 

The hand stopped and the next drag of fingers through your hair was slower, hesitant in a way. When the fingers brushed over your neck, you melted, a sigh drawing from your lips. 

You didn’t want this to end, especially when those same fingers caressed your face, brushing the strands away and you felt them tug slightly, as if lifting a piece of your hair, memorising the colour and the softness of it. 

It was safe here. You could relax. It was warm and cosy, even if the pillow beneath you was hard. And smelt faintly of metal. Weird. Oh well. You nuzzled against the coolness, humming again. 

Somewhere above you, there was what sounded like a soft chuckle. A caress of your forehead that trailed down the bridge of your nose. It traced over the swoop of your lips and then along your jaw, like they were mapping your features. The touch was so tender, so sweet that it almost bought tears to your eyes. You had been alone for so long, so very long and almost every encounter you had was violent. 

People didn’t touch you to be kind. They touched you to kill you. 

A thudding impact of knuckles instead of a warm arm around your shoulders. 

The sting of a knife edge at your throat instead of soft lips trailing over your skin. 

Ropes and cuffs digging into your wrists instead of familiar fingers linking through your own. 

It wasn’t even a sexual or heated touch that you missed, it was anything. You craved it, the tender familiarity of someone using touch to tell you how much you meant to them, that they cared about you. 

And this… this phantom tracing of your features spoke of a touch that was almost a little unsure. A touch that was mapping something for the first time, drawing attention to the tiny little features you didn’t even know you had, but someone was admiring and drinking in. It was a little hesitant, a little shy but… achingly sweet.

Outside of this haze, something started to call to you, coaxing you to open your eyes. Your eyelids fluttered, your head clearing as you moved and the hand was then gone. 

No, you wanted to whisper. Don’t stop.

~

It might have been hours later, but you became aware of the noises of the Razor Crest. The familiar hum of engines and instruments.  You could distantly hear Grogu’s happy cooing as he played with Duru. Right beneath your head, you could hear steady breathing, muffled slightly by a helmet. 

By a helmet.

Your head snapped up, eyes widening as you stared down at the floor. 

Mando was breathing. Deep, even and steady intakes of air that lifted his chest, filtering through his lungs. 

You made a soft noise, looking down at his side. You picked up the blanket and peered at the ragged tear in his underclothes. 

Nothing. 

The stab wound in his side was gone. Healed. 

You’d done it… You saved him. 

You slumped back, rubbing your hands over your face with a soft sigh of relief. You were shaking all over though and you felt… unhinged in some way. Almost painfully exposed. You had broken something, something inside you that had taken years to build. 

The only way you were able to survive was by shutting away that part of you, that pure, natural power that you could still feel echoing in your bones. 

And the constant pain that you had was gone, no more tightly wound tension now that it had been freed. 

It had to go back in, had to be built into a cage that was stronger, more impenetrable. You didn’t know why it had taken a man who you don’t really know, bleeding out in front of you to rise from the ashes. 

A man who you killed for without second thought. You always through yourself into a fight with no hesitation, but last night, or earlier or whenever it was, you had fought differently.

That wasn’t a frantic dance of survival, where your life was the crescendo and Death was the orchestra. No, that had been precision. Cunning. 

You had shed the claws and snarl, grown fangs and poison. Wolf to Viper. 

The bounty had been your prey. You struck, and you killed. 

For a man you didn’t even really know. 

You swallowed, scratching at the itchiness of your face. Stop. Do not even go there. Don’t. At least not yet. 

Red flakes fell from your face, reminding you of the layer of grime and blood that was dried onto your skin. 

Right. You needed a shower. 

You checked back on Mando, satisfied that he was okay and then you went off for a shower and to potentially drown yourself. 

-

You returned a short while later, carrying a bowl of warm water, a small towel over your arm and a canteen of water tucked into the crook of your elbow. The dark creature in you was silent, oddly silent and you wondered if it would remain that way. 

Best not dwell on it and encourage it to wake back up. 

You picked your way across the floor around storage boxes and tubs of things to where you’d left Mando.

To find him sitting up, grunting a little at the apparent stiffness in his lips. His head snapped up when he heard you, his body relaxing, “You weren’t there when I woke up, I didn’t know if something had happened to you.” 

You couldn’t help the slight chuckle as you reached his side, sitting down next to him against the crate and setting out all the things you’d brought with you. “Easy… I had to have a shower, I couldn’t even recognise my own face with all the blood and dirt on it.” 

He leant back against the crate behind you, watching you, “I know.. I stirred a couple hours ago and nearly had a heart attack. I thought… You were passed out next to me and I couldn’t reach you to see if you were breathing, I was too stiff. I thought..” He seemed to swallow back his next words, his hands tightening into fists on the blanket now on his lap. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest, that raw honesty in his rasp. He’d thought you had died. 

Just like you thought he had. 

A certain atmosphere settled around you, getting tighter and feeling… different. You could feel the heat rolling off of him through your chilled bones, even with the layer of beskar over his body. 

You cleared your throat and held out the canteen. “Here. I bought you some water.”

Mando reached out to take the water from you, gloved fingers brushing yours and you noticed the blood that had soaked into them was dry now. “I never pegged you for the healing type.”

Honey, you have no idea. 

You laughed, shrugging, “You live a life like mine, you end up getting battered more times than you can remember. I’ve had to fix myself up so many times, you were a walk in the park.” You grinned, teasing him but your expression was strained. You could still taste his blood. 

You cleared your throat again and reached beside you for the bowl of water before placing it between you “I found some gloves upstairs when I was looking for a towel… I didn’t know if you’d want to change them.” You bit your lip, eyes flicking over the helmet, that tension still there, lingering. Then you remembered. “Oh, shit. Sorry.” You turned around, facing your back to him to give him privacy. 

There was nothing for a few moments, and then you heard the bowl drag closer to him. There was a soft tug of friction, leather sliding over skin and dropping to the floor. 

Your spine tightened slightly, knowing that his bare skin wasn’t far off. You could never turn around though, you wouldn’t do that to him. It didn’t stop your breathing from turning shallow, and you just prayed he couldn’t hear it. 

Water splashed, and suddenly, an unbidden image burst in your head. Mando’s bare hands, dipping into the warm water, rubbing the washcloth over his palms and knuckles. Beads of water sliding down his fingers and the bare, smooth skin of his wrist. Was his skin tan? Smooth or scarred? You wondered if he had any freckles on his hands. Perhaps not, if they were in gloves all the time. Did he take them off when he was truly aloe? Let the golden light of the sun kiss over his knuckles…

What. 

The fuck. 

Was that.

Your eyes widened as you looked into the corner of the room, heat flushing your neck and chest. Why, in all the stars had that popped into your head? This man had been on death’s door, you had saved him, turned yourself inside out and now you were mooning over the sound of him cleaning his hands? Get a grip, girl.

“Done. You can turn around..” His voice floated over to you, soft and you waited a few moments before you turned back to face him, praying the dimness of the cargo hold was enough to hide your flush. “Thank you.” 

You shook your head, taking the dirty gloves now that the other clean ones were on his hands. “Oh, no, you don’t need to thank me. They were just gloves.” You couldn’t look at him, instead laying the gloves down, resting them both on top of each other so that the fingers and thumbs matched up. 

Mando shook his head, “No… not for the gloves. I mean – yes, for the gloves too but… For saving me. You didn’t need to, but you did. You could have walked right past, but you fought that asshole, you killed him, for me. And then you saved me..” His voice was still rough, and that atmosphere flickered again, encouraging you to raise your eyes to him. 

He titled his head, a hand drifting to his side, “Speaking of which… How?”

You blinked, fought to keep your expression even, “How what?”

Mando’s head remained tilted, “How did you save me? I looked earlier when I woke up but… there was only a scar there. Like it was weeks old, not hours.”

You’d already thought this moment in the refresher, “Oh, that. Uh, I had some bacta-spray left over in my bag. I kept it for emergencies…” You kept your voice casual, pausing now and then as if thinking it over. Expect this part, you didn’t need to feign the quieter tone, “My mother taught me which leaves and flowers could be used for healing, to speed up healing times. My… father worked a rough job and sometimes he would come home with deep cuts and bruises and mumma would always fix them…” You cleared your throat, “I had some left over too.” Your skin felt hot, uncomfortable. You hadn’t intended to share past the point of, “to speed up healing times,” but something about his silence had felt encouraging. 

He was still watching you, and you had no idea if he believed you or not. However, his voice was softer as he simply said, “Thank you. I didn’t deserve it, for what I’ve done. I’m forever.”

“Ooh.. You would have done the same for me, I’m sure...” You laughed a little but it was uneasy, unsure where this was going, that tone in his voice and the intensity of his words. You remained focused on your task of playing with the gloves, that courage that sung through your blood everyday had vanished, leaving you unable to look at him, even if you could feel the visor of the helmet boring into you. 

He leant forward and seconds later, freshly gloved fingers tilted your chin up so you had to look at him, “Exactly. I would have. I did, that’s why he hurt me… so...” He reached behind him, for one of those many pockets and pouches on his body, fumbling for something. 

You frowned, tilting your head, “What are you doing? You’ll pull at your wound-“

Mando pulled something out from his back, holding them out to you and presenting them like a fucking prize. 

Your bounty puck. And the tracking fob. 

What the fuck was he doing?

You jerked back out of his touch, the wolf snarling in you as your eyes flicked up to him, “Seriously? You’re bringing that up? We just went through all of that, and you’re coming back to a fucking bounty puck? I knew I was just a bounty, but you could have waited until you could walk at least.” Your voice was a snarl, but benath that… a hurt. 

He made a soft noise, shaking his head as he once again read what you were thinking, that you had misunderstood. “No, no, I don’t mean that…” He took a breath, and then he gently pulled your hand so it was palm up. And placed the tracking fob and the puck in them. He closed your fingers over them, his voice so soft that the modulator almost didn’t filter it through “Destroy them.”

You jerked in surprise, your breathing catching in shock, anger fizzling out of your body as quick as it had crashed into you, “What? Mando, this… the money it would get you... I can’t.” You tried to push it back to him, to get him to take it. It meant a lot to you, of course it did but he was being ridiculous. “I’m just your bounty.” You hadn’t meant to repeat it, it just slipped out. It wasn’t like it was a lie though. You were. Even though you doubted he had ever had his bounty save his life before. 

You were surprised to hear a soft growl rumble in his throat, “Stop it.” He kept his gloved hand wrapped around yours, heat leeching through the leather and into your skin. “You were, in the beginning. But as soon as I heard that asshole talking like that about you…” He shook his head, swallowing his words yet again though they reminded honest, “You saved my life. That means something to me, especially in my culture. A lot of people would have left me there to die. But you didn’t… And I apologise for everything I’ve done. If you’ll forgive me and let me, I’d like to help you.”

Well. Fuck. That was the last thing you expected. He… wanted to help you? What did that mean? What could he do for you? You bit your lip, toying with the idea, staring down at the devices in your hand. 

You’d been alone for so long. Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could… let him. But the way everyone seemed to die around you… you only had to look at tonight as proof enough. 

He shouldn’t do this, it was a mistake.

You looked up, lips parting to form the words that would push him away, make him realise you were saving him from making a mistake.

Only for him to read you like a damn book again. He plucked the bounty puck and tracking fob from your hand, grasping them in his fist and then with a soft grunt, slammed them into the solid floor beneath you both. They instantly cracked, sputtering a little almost like shock and then completely shattered when he slammed his fist down on them again. 

Mando made sure they were destroyed, then looked back at you and you could have sworn you could almost see the cocky eyebrow raise under the bucket on his head. 

You surveyed him, looked down at the remains on the floor. 

The symbol of hunter and prey destroyed. 

You took in a deep breath, lifting your chin and meeting the beskar gaze of the man ahead of you, your threads of your lives somehow more entwined. “Okay. I accept your apology… and your help.”

Would he be the first person that didn’t succumb to your curse? 

Previous chapter| Next chapter

[dameronology]

an insight into forever {poe dameron x reader}

summary: imagine having a love so deep that is completely unwavering - even in the face of broken promises, unspoken words and unfinished conversations 

warnings: ANGST, so much angst, swearing, mentions of death 

enjoy :) this hurt to write

- jazz

Poe Dameron had a tendency to not think before he spoke. 

It was bad at the best of times - and it only got worst when he was around.

Worst, because you were the love of his life. Worst, because you were the most beautiful human being he’d ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. Worst, because he was completely and utterly obsessed you and worst, he’d let you go. He’d done a lot of stupid things - really, really stupid things - but allowing your relationship to reach a better end took the cake. Heck, it baked the cake and threw it into the fucking ceiling fan. Left splatters all up the wall and on the carpet and over his heart. Stained his heart with marks of your relationship, destined to keep him trapped in your unwitting grips until he met his untimely demise, probably in cockpit of an X-Wing (refer back to the really, really stupid things.) 

He’d been through a couple break ups but this felt like the be-all-and-end-all. You’d given back his jumpers and jackets and belongings that he’d left in your room, but you still held onto a few tiny pieces of Poe’s heart. It was like a subtle, permanent grip on his brain; he occasionally thought about you but was always painfully aware that he’d let go of the best person in the galaxy. You were a once in the lifetime thing, like winning the lottery or finding gold at the bottom of a rainbow. Both of those were things he’d willingly forfeit in a second if it meant having you back.

So, you probably get the point: Poe was sad, your break-up was bad and you were a little mad (that was a rhyme Finn came up with to summarise the events of your relationship’s bitter demise to anyone who asked). It had been a few months, and you were both finally at the point where you could hang out as a group of five friends with it only being slightly awkward. It had only taken a minor intervention from Rey, Finn and Rose to get you to acknowledge one another again, but it was the first step to being friends. That’s what you’d been before, and if you could just set aside your differences, perhaps you could be there again.

The five of you always made a point to hang out together on a Friday. Your jobs in the Resistance took up every waking second during the week, so it was strictly marked in your calendar as friend time and you would all be there without fail. Usually, you found yourselves in a small cantina in one of the little villages a few miles out from the base on Ajan Kloss. It was the one day a week that things actually felt a little normal; just five young friends and some alcohol, laughing together and having a good time. 

There was always something lingering in the air between you and Poe -- stolen glances and sneaky looks, and an atmosphere that paid ode to a million unsaid things and a plethora of unfinished conversations. Arguments that never reached conclusions and hearts that never quite healed; yours nor his. To force it all into a box and slam it shut and to process that hurt with proper closure was holding you back. Clinging onto your shoulders with a mighty grip that prevented you from truly moving on. 

‘So, that cute mechanic asked about you today.’ Rose’s voice pulled your attention away from the pilot and back to the painfully Poe-free reality in which you found yourself.

‘He did?’ You blinked in surprise. 

‘You did go on a date last week without calling him back.’ She reminded you. ‘He wasn’t bothered. I think he got it - everyone gets a bit busy in this line of work, right?’

Yeah, because that’s why you hadn’t replied to his 27 text messages. 

‘I didn’t realise you were even dating again.’ Finn observed, eyes briefly flickering to his best friend. ‘I mean, not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just-’

‘- Finn.’ You cut him off. ‘It’s fine. Poe and I are friends now, right?’

Poe simply looked up, dark eyes shifting from his half-finished drink. He didn’t say anything for a moment, instead giving you a look that emanated the vibe he’d rather swim naked through the seas of Hoth than answer than question. It wasn’t until Finn cleared his throat that he pulled away from your gaze and forced the fakest smile smile known to man, and every other creature that roamed the galaxy. 

‘Right.’ Did he normally speak through gritted teeth?

‘So, d’you like this guy?’ Rey asked. ‘He seemed nice when I met him in the air hangar.’

‘He’s...’ you paused. Annoying, whiny, argumentative, has a voice like a foghorn and, most importantly, isn’t Poe Dameron. ‘Fine.’ 

‘So are you gonna call him back?’ Rose pushed. ‘Because the minute you bring someone new to the table, I can set up ol’ flyboy here with the cute girl from comms who’s been eyeing him up.’

‘I’m okay, but thanks.’ Poe’s fake smile barely faltered, eyes landing on you again. ‘I don’t need a relationship when I have such fulfilling friendships.’

You almost choked on your drink at that. The irony was laying in the fact that you used to love Poe’s little sarcastic jabs and backhanded comments - at least when you’d been sat beside him, laughing into his shoulder and holding his hand under the table. Now, you were in the line of fire and maker knew you’d left your bulletproof vest at home. 

Needless to say, his forced smile fell when you gave him a kick on the shin under the table. 

‘So..you and Cute Mechanic. Not a thing?’ Finn asked.

‘Definitely not a thing.’ You confirmed. 

‘You don’t have to say it on my behalf.’ Poe said. ‘If you like the guy, you can talk about it in front of me.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ You snorted. ‘It’s nothing to do with you. I genuinely don’t like him.’

That was half true: you didn’t like the guy, but it was everything to do with Poe. You could have met the holy grail of men and they still wouldn’t have had a chance in hell. That’s not to say that Poe wasn’t the holy grail, but he was flawed. So you were you. It was those flaws that had lead to your downfall in the first place. Fundamentally, everyone had to have them -- it just so happened that the best parts of you clicked so well and the flawed parts of you clashed so badly. The good times and bad parts were so different that they were like two different ends of a magnet; complete opposites and inevitably polarising. 

Rose, sensing the tension between the two of you, suddenly pushed to change the subject. ‘So, did anyone see the General-’

‘- I’m gonna go now.’ You stood up. ‘I’m really tired and I have an early meeting tomorrow.’

All four of them knew that was bullshit. There were no meetings on a Saturday, but they kept schtum. There was a chorus of okay, get some rest! and see you tomorrow, but Poe didn’t say anything. He just kept you in his gaze, watching as you gathered up your things and headed for the door.

The air outside was cold; Ajan Kloss had hot, hot summers and freezing winters. You fumbled to pull your jacket over your shoulders as you stalked away, boots thundering against the muddy path as you headed back for the base. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and it was safe for the most part. Everyone on the planet was either a native villager - all of whom were humble and welcoming - or a fellow Rebel. 

You didn’t bother to turn around when you head foot-steps behind you. It was a Friday night, which meant that there was going to be people around. 

It was only when somebody grabbed you by the shoulder that you suddenly spun on your heel -- luckily, Poe Dameron managed to catch your fist in time to save it hitting his face. It wasn’t personal. It was natural to get a little trigger happy with the ol’ mitt when a stranger grabbed you in the dark. Only, it wasn’t a stranger. It was your ex-boyfriend, looking as handsome as ever with disheveled hair and a five o’ clock shadow. 

‘For fuck’s sake!’ You snapped. ‘What the hell are you doing?!’

‘I came to check you were okay!’ Poe released his grip on your wrist, letting it flop to your side. ‘You only ever stalk out like that when you’re mad.’

‘No thanks to you.’ You shot back. ‘I’m fine. Just go back to the bar.’

‘Short sentences meaning you’re fuming-’

‘- I’m about to be well past that point.’ You cut him off. ‘Go back. Don’t worry about me.’

‘I wanted to talk to you anyways.’ He admitted. 

‘About what?’

‘About what you said back there.’ Poe replied. ‘I genuinely meant what I said. I don’t want you to not try things with that new guy because of me.’

‘Poe, I-’

‘- I mean it.’ He continued. ‘I just wanted you to know.’ 

‘Wanted me to know what?’ You murmured. ‘That I need your permission to date other people?’

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying.’ He frowned at your words. ‘I just...I mean that I wanted you to know that it’s okay if you don’t love me anymore.’

Well if that wasn’t like a knife through the fucking chest, you didn’t know what was. 

What hurt more? The fact he was officially letting you go, or the fact he thought you were even capable of falling out of love with him? Because that, you weren’t. Poe might have been the most stubborn, most annoying, most chaotic person you knew but he was everything. Everything you wanted and everything you needed - but everything you couldn’t have. You were two parts of a screwed up whole. Bad apart, but probably even worse off together. It was pretty fucked up of whoever was in the sky that they’d put you both in the galaxy at the same time. Existing without him was less painful than existing in a world where you couldn’t be together. 

‘Poe...’ your voice was small, a tiny crack appearing in the middle of his name. 

‘Me being an ass is just a defence mechanism.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘I haven’t fallen out of love with you.’ You ignored his apology. 

‘Like I said, it’s okay.’ He shook his head. ‘I can see it in your eyes.’

‘If you think you can see it in my eyes then you clearly don’t know me at all.’ Your voice shook, but you managed to throw the accusation at him. An admirable trait, surely. 

‘I don’t think I do.’ He admitted. ‘Not anymore.’

--

The next morning, Poe was sat in the canteen. He didn’t normally rise so early on weekends, but thanks to your discussion the night before, sleep had alluded him. 

Instead, he was staring aimlessly at his whole bowl of oatmeal. He’d been stirring it around for the better of an hour, thinking of nothing but you. He thought it was sweet of you to have rejected his claims of love (or lack thereof) but nothing you could have said would have made him believe you. It all stemmed down to the fact that he’d spent so long convincing himself of it. If he truly believed - or at least thought he believed - that you didn’t love him anymore, then he wouldn’t fool himself to having false hope, He was more likely to force himself to pull his head out his backside and move on. It was less painful that way, to rip it off like a bandaid. There was no hope if there was no love. Both of those things were and few these days. 

Poe jumped out of his exhausted, self-inflicted trance when something slammed on the table in front of him. He practically jumped out of his seat, oatmeal flying everywhere as he let out a yelp. He was about to open his mouth and yell, to cry in vain of his airborne breakfast, but he immediately stopped when he saw you staring down at him. 

‘Do you really think I stopped loving you?’

He huffed. ‘I’m not having this conversation with you.’

‘Yes, you are.’ You snapped. ‘Answer the question, Poe. Do you really think I stopped loving you?’

‘What’s this?’ He asked, eyes falling onto the piece of paper resting atop the table. 

‘Do you remember a few weeks ago when I went on that mission to Nevarro?’ You asked. 

‘Uh, yeah.’ Poe scratched the back of his hair. ‘That dangerous one.’

‘Yeah, the dangerous one.’ You placed one leg over the bench seat opposite him, dropping down onto the table with a thud. ‘I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it back.’

‘None of us were.’

‘This is a letter I asked Leia to give to you in case I died.’ You slid it across to him. ‘You should give it read.’

‘What are you doing?’ Poe sighed. 

‘I’m proving a point, Dameron.’

‘Yeah, you’ve always been good at that.’ He snatched the letter from you, pulling it open. ‘You just gonna stare at me the whole time that I read this?’

‘Yup.’

Another sigh escaped his lips as he tore it open, eyes briefly scanning the page for a moment. His brow furrowed - was it possible to feel like words were punching you in the throat?

Poe, 

If you’re reading this, it’s either because I’m dead or M.I.A, or you’ve been snooping through Leia’s desk draw in search of that damned Coruscanti candy again. If it’s the latter, put this fucking down. Because it means I’m alive, and I’ll find you and throttle you. If it’s because of the first one, then keep reading, because it means I’m gone. Turns out that I only act immortal. 

I should preface this by saying that I’m sorry. Sorry that we didn’t get to be together again and sorry that I didn’t try harder to make it happen. Please know that it’s what I wanted more than anything. You probably already know it, but I never stopped loving you. I died loving you (hopefully in a bad-ass way) and because death is, rather unfortunately, a permanent state, it means that I’ll love you forever. 

I’m only being bold with my words because I know you won’t be around for me to be embarrassed by how soft you’ve made me, but you’re my best friend. My other half and my whole world. You made me feel safe and loved and by all intents and purposes, you are my home. Whoever ends up getting to marry you - because you will find someone; the galaxy is a large place and there is another person out there who will find your annoying ass to be rather charming - is the luckiest fucking person ever. I’m just sorry that I can’t be there to watch it happen, and even more sorry that it couldn’t be me. 

Love you always, flyboy 

- (name) 

p.s I have a cactus on my window ledge. Can you water it for me? Thanks. 

Poe’s eyes were bleary with tears by the end - at the thought of you dying, at the thought of him being the last person you thought of before you went on that mission. The mission that he’d sent you on, as your Commander. He’d caused you grief without even trying. 

‘That mission was two weeks ago.’ He looked up at you, not even bothering to hide the water in his eyes. ‘You wrote this two weeks ago.’

‘Yeah.’ You quietly murmured. Giving a small nod, you stood up from the table and wiped your own eyes. ‘You should hold onto that.’

‘W-where are you going?’

‘I have work to do.’ You stood up. ‘Goodbye, Poe.’

'For now or forever?’ He tried to force a joke, but it didn’t really work in his favour.

‘You had a point in what you said.’ You replied. ‘We should both move on.’ 

His eyes fell back down to the letter, where a few scrawled words jumped out at him: I’ll love you forever.

Until now, he hadn’t considered the fact that forever was still forever, even when you spent it apart. 

tags: @interwebseriesfan24​ @spider-starry​ @itspdameronthings​ @lifeandloveandhappiness​ 

[vanilladyfics]

Fighting Fate - Ch 1

Read Chapter Two

Ship: Sir Nighteye x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Office Romance

Warnings: Suicide Themes, Slight Sexuality, Yandere if you squint

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note:  I needed to get this out of my head so I can focus on other projects.  This story takes place after Eri’s rescue where nothing bad happened.

Summary: Nighteye’s quirk predicts his assistant will die before the night’s end, but he’s not about to accept fate this time around.

Do not repost.

-----

Mirai Sasaki was a hero first, man second.  His greatest strength as a hero came not from his precognition, but his control.  A control that, lately, has been slipping.  As a general rule, Sasaki only used his quirk for his hero work.  He only had one shot at it a day, so to waste it on something personal would not only be unprofessional, but could put himself and the people he had sworn to protect at risk should an emergency arise.  And yet, he wanted to use it on you.

Sasaki had no problem with you when you first started as his assistant.  Sure, there were times you needed to be reminded to smile, and his jokes didn't always land with you (which was on you-- his delivery was flawless), but everyone had those days.  Midnight was partially to blame.  Her recent jokes about his tickle torture machine being used for foreplay had been fresh in his mind the first time you needed it to be reminded to smile.  Sasaki had dismissed her comments easily enough.  There was nothing inherently sexual about tickling someone into submission with their hands bound above their head, helpless and vulnerable.  Their hysterical laughter turning into gasps and pants as they struggled for air.  Thighs clamped tightly together as they desperately tried to avoid wetting themselves, begging for release.

Then he put you in those cuffs, saw you writhe against the machine, and he understood.  Seeing you thrash about, pulling against your restraints, your shirt coming untucked from your waistband as you struggled, Sasaki felt... something.  He turned the machine off in a panic the moment he diagnosed what he was feeling.  Kayama was right, and he was a fool.

He hadn't put anyone in the machine since.  He considered taking it down and retiring it all together, but it served as an effective warning that his office would be full of smiles.  Still, he couldn't look at it the same way-- couldn't look at you the same way. He barely looked at you at all, actually.  Each time he did, his mind went to unprofessional places.  He made a point not to treat you any differently from his other employees.  He bought flowers.  Not for you.  For the office. It just happened that the logical place for them was on the front desk-- your desk.  The treats in the break room you liked weren't for you, but for the team.

Technically, Sasaki never instated a rule against dating subordinates.  He managed all of his employees directly, and never thought about any of them romantically, so the thought never occurred to him to implement one.  Asking out his assistant might be legal, but he morally couldn't put you in a position where you might fear for your livelihood.  The right thing to do would have been to get you a job somewhere else, wait until you were settled, and then make a move... but then you'd be so far away.

Sasaki couldn't stay in this limbo between courting and ignoring you forever.  He had a few options.  He could ignore the feelings, keeping you at arms length just to keep in his life.  He could throw all sense of propriety aside and ask you directly, risk losing you completely and forcing him to find a new assistant.  So he decided. If four-o-clock hit and he hadn't used his quirk for the day, he'd use it on you.  If he saw your future together, it was fate, morality and propriety be damned.  If you ended up with someone else, he would be a man step aside.

--

You winced at the pounding in your head, forcing yourself to smile despite the pain.  You couldn't let anyone see you frown in Sir Nighteye's Hero Agency.  The last time you did, you were stuck in that HR nightmare of a contraption until you nearly wet yourself in front of Sir Nighteye himself.  You flushed at the memory.  You needed to get out, and this new influx of emails only confirmed it: Job applications, for your position.  He had caught you looking down once and had been acting strangely ever since.  Now you know it's because he had been sneaking around trying to replace you. You double checked Mr. Sasaki's schedule before confirming the interview times for this first batch of applicants.  You should have seen it coming, but it still hurt to have to help pick out your own replacement.  You saw their resumes.  Many of them had a better education and more experience than you.  They'd be a much better fit at the agency.  They probably wouldn't have to pretend to be happy.

You checked the time.  Four-o-clock.  One more hour and you'd be free to go home and cry yourself to sleep.  You paused.  No.  You still had to pick up groceries, reach out to your doctor about these headaches and starting your medication again, and figure out how to respectfully decline this last arranged marriage meeting.  Somehow, you doubted “Sorry, I but I still have a thing for my boss even though he wants to fire me” was going to cut it.  You added 'apply for jobs' to your mental to-do list.

Mr. Sasaki walked in.  You plastered your best smile on your face to greet him.  “Good evening, sir!”  You would play ignorant.  If he wanted to be sneaky, so could you.

“Good evening, [Y/N].  How are you?”

“I'm doing well... Sir?”  He was looking you in the eye for the first time since the tickle incident.  It felt strange somehow. Serious.

He cleared his throat, pulling a business card from the inner pocket of his blazer.  “Make sure to update Edgeshot's contact information before you leave.”

Your fingers brushed against his as you accepted the card.  “Right away, sir.”

He looked in your eyes, and your future played out in his mind like a strip of film: The stranger harassing you on the train ride home, stepping over the candidacy pictures of potential suitors someone slipped under your door, answering a phone call and arguing until you hung up and threw the phone against the wall.  The tears. The bathtub.  And then...

Nothing.

“My office.  Now.”

Icy dread washed over you as he closed the door behind you.  Just how much had he seen?  You stood at attention under his unnerving gaze.  The man was as handsome as he was intimidating.

“Tell me what's going on.”

You floundered for an answer. “Just... work.”  His grip on your arm tightened.  You winced.  He had to know you were lying-- he clearly saw something in your future he didn't like.  You had to give him something.  “I went ahead and scheduled the interviews for the assistant position next week.  Thank you for my time here.  I'm sorry we weren't a better fit.”

Oh.

He let go of your arm.  He only put out that help wanted ad to be prepared in case you left the agency.  He should have considered your reaction when you found out.  Stupid.  So incredibly stupid.  He was usually so thorough.  Sasaki sat at his desk.  He needed to think, and he couldn't do that standing right next to you.  When he saw your timeline cut short, he never thought he might have contributed to it.  He could change the future.  Fix it.  He'd seen it done before.

“I'm not firing you.”

“It's okay.  I didn't take it personally,” you lied, reminding yourself to smile.  Always smile.

You clearly didn't believe him, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you why he was looking for a new assistant.  Now wasn't the time for a love confession.  How could today have gone so wrong? He needed a plan.

“What are your plans for this evening?”

Was he asking you to stay late?  You shrugged.  “Running errands.  Groceries.  Dinner.”  File for unemployment.  “Normal stuff.”

He nodded, threading his fingers together.  It didn't sound like you were planning on ending things tonight, but he wasn't an expert.  His hero work centered on fighting external threats, like villains or natural disasters, not civilians who were a danger to themselves.  He should let an expert take over, but could he really entrust you to a stranger?  Could he convince you to talk to a crisis center when you couldn't admit anything was wrong?  Would the shame push you over that edge?  And why were you still smiling?

He needed to buy time, and for that, you wouldn't be leaving his sight.  He looked into your future again, but it remained unchanged.  The last push seemed to be that phone call, but he couldn't make out who it was from.  It didn't matter. “Give me your phone.”

His tone brokered no argument, and you handed it over without hesitation.  His thumb brushed over the screen.  It was cracked.  Surely he was paying you enough to have it repaired or replaced outright.  Sasaki frowned, considering.  No phone meant no phone call.  No phone call meant no tears.

He snapped it in half.

“What the hell!?”  You rushed to take the broken pieces from him, but he held them tighter.

“I'll buy you a new one.”

“That's not the point!  It wasn't yours!”

“I need you to work overtime tonight. You are not to leave this building, is that understood?”

Fate could be rewritten.  Sasaki would ensure you made it through tonight, even if you ended up hating him for it.

[officialleehadan]

Fixing What's Broke

Maggie tried to reach her toolkit, forgot where she was, tried to sit up, and clocked her head on the metal rail that ran along the underside of the kitchen console. She cursed creatively and fell back to the floor on her back as she prodded her forehead gingerly to check for blood.

“Listenin’ too you cuss in that shiny noble accent o’ yours is just about th’ funniest thing I ever heard.”

Maggie muttered one more curse for good measure and extricated herself from under the console. The voice was Bobbit, the Blackbird’s quartermaster. Bobbit was a gnome, and one of the most comprehensively capable people Maggie had ever met. He had odd green eyes, and a collection of strange hats that were only matched by his brilliantly colorful taste in clothing.

He also cursed like the spacer he was, got into outright brawls with their engineer, a quarter-troll named Kady, and had shouting matches with Zaaba over supplies.

For someone who stood a whole three feet tall and change, he had a lot of attitude. Maggie still wasn’t sure what to make of him, all things considered. Mostly he teased her about her accent, and occasionally cracked jokes about ‘what she was used to’ as far as accommodations.

Not that any of them had any notion what kind of accommodations Maggie was actually used to. They knew she was noble, and not a runaway. That would be enough for now.

Zaaba promised to make him stop if it started to bother her, but Maggie tentatively thought it was a good thing. Bobbit wasn’t the sort to joke with people he didn’t like.

Honestly, he reminded her a little of a particularly crusty great-uncle of hers, who taught her to pop a lock with a hairpin and couldn’t dance to save his life. There was something very comforting about that in many ways.

“I wouldn’t have to curse so much if I could get our damned water heater to work,” Maggie told him and wiped her hands on a rag nearby before she gathered her tools back into the ship’s tool-kit. She was still getting used to the wear of old canvas and cotton clothes, and the feeling of dirt on her skin, another source of amusement to her new crew. ”What happened to it?”

“Fixer.”

“Ah, yes, that does make sense.”

Fixer’s nickname was an ongoing joke in the crew, as the man himself, an elf with delusions of his ability to fix things, reliably destroyed just about everything he tried to fix. The whole crew tried to talk into leaving the mechanics to Kady, and they weren’t always successful. Unfortunately, Kady had other things to worry about than the water heater.

“Don’t suppose you’re struck by the same difficulty as him?”

“If you’re asking whether or not I can make it work, the answer is currently ‘maybe’. It would help if someone knew what he actually did to it.”

“I’d tell ye if I could,” Bobbit told her frankly, and used the stairs built into the side of the counter so he could reach the cabinets. The whole ship had little conveniences in for him built in here and there and he got around as easily as Zaaba, who stood taller than most men. “But damned if I can figure it. We had to pay for a second heater just t’ get the showers working again. Don’t you worry your head over it. Ship has her dings here an’ there, but she flies true.”

“I never doubted the Blackbird,” Maggie promised, already fond of the old cargo cruiser and her strange, loving crew. “I never would have signed on if I did, but I admit, I wouldn’t mind washing up in hot water, rather than cold.”

“I’m still surprised you do the washin’ at all. I had five credits on you turnin’ up your soft hands at the work.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Didn’t mean it like all that. I lost, anyway. Kady cleaned out the whole pot. You want coffee?”

“Sure. My brother flies a smooth ride, but it’s a ship like any other. I’ve done plenty of washing in my time.”

Well, maybe not plenty, but more than none, certainly, and Dorinda taught her all about how living on a smuggling ship truly worked. Everyone pulled their weight, and anyone who didn’t got dropped off at the next port. Sometimes unceremoniously. The Black wasn’t a good place for people who couldn’t work together.

Before Bobbit could answer, Zaaba swept in.

A captain of her own ship for the better part of twenty years, and a spacer’s child before that, Zaaba had an air about her that always filled a room with her confidence. She swaggered in deep reds and golds with a long black coat over it all.

“We’re landing at Delve soon,” she announced to them, and stole a swig of Maggie’s coffee unrepentantly. “You stay with me, Pretty. Delve’s no place for a lady walking alone.”

“You know I can electrify my skin,” Maggie pointed out dryly, and stole her coffee back so she could dump cream into it. Zaaba rolled her eyes dramatically and went to get her own cup. “I’ve been to Delve, but not recently.”

“All the same. You get grabbed and that brother of yours will be everybody’s problem until we find you,” she said as she doctored her coffee with far too much sugar and took it in two long gulps. “Delve’s a maze of tunnels. Getting’ you back would be a headache.”

“I’ll be careful, Zaaba.”

“You’ll be with me is what you’ll be. Bobbit, get us ready to land. We’re taking on cargo and on our way back into the sky.”

+++

HGE - Blackbird:

Crown Princess Lucia Therese Magdalene ahs taken to the sky like her brother, Luka, before her. With her name and her crown set asie, Maggie Gol will take the Human Galactic Empire by storm.

Hot Pepper Blackbird

+++

More Stories!

+++

[ctay21]

The Scavenger Hunt

             (Marco x Fem s/o Reader)

Hey guys! I wrote this for @mooshs-crack-headcanons​ 300 follower special! I am still new to writing fanfic but also still feel new to the fandom. So, I hope you guy’s enjoy! I had a ton of fun writing this and kept giving myself mini fangirl heart attacks. My prompt was Ideal Date. Just call me spontaneous, Whoops! Also there’s no trigger warnings other than big fluff. Also anything in italics is a memory/flashback. Enjoy!

It was a regular day on the Moby Dick. You had gotten all your baking done a little early in the kitchen. So Thatch asked you to take inventory of the stock because we were approaching an island. Knowing you can’t say no to your commander, you grab the clipboard to start inventory and head to the storeroom.

Grumbling to yourself because you had to yet again recount the same thing you were trying to count five times already. Mainly, people kept interrupting you and you were starting to get really frustrated because all the interruptions made you lose count. Thinking to yourself the next time someone dares to interrupt you. Let’s just say it wasn’t going to be pretty. You were crouched down counting vegetables. When out of the corner of your eye you suddenly see Thatch’s face. 

Seeing his face so suddenly scared you and made you jump up really quickly. Also because it scared you so much you instinctively turned and punched his arm. Trying to calm your heart rate down you slightly scream “What the heck Thatch, a little warning would be appreciated next time! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“OW! I was talking to you when I walked back here, I thought you heard me!” Thatch said while holding his arm pretending to look wounded.

“Well you know how I get when I’m focused. Also I’m not apologizing for punching you, you probably deserved it.” You said while crossing your arms, over the clipboard you were holding. 

“Well excuse me. I guess I’m not gonna tell you what I just saw then.” Thatch said while turning back around to walk out of the storeroom.

“Wait!! Fine, I’m sorry! What were you gonna tell me?” You quickly yelled before he could walk out the door.

“Ahhhh.. I knew that would get an apology out of you. Anyway, I saw Ace walk out of your room about twenty minutes ago. I think he set up another prank. You should go check your room before something either explodes or something bad happens. You know how he is.” Thatch said while grabbing the unfinished inventory list from you. 

“Ugh! He’s the worst! He either goes way to big, or way to small with pranks. Why people call him Prank Sinatra, I will never understand. Thanks for telling me, are you gonna finish up or do I need to come back?” You asked Thatch while letting go of your clipboard.

“Nah, I’ll finish up. Be careful, who knows what Ace did this time.” Thatch called out to you before you walked out the door.

“Ok thanks! I’ll be careful.” You called back before heading to your room. 

Being on the lookout for things that aren’t supposed to be there, you cautiously approached your bedroom door. Seeing nothing tied to the handle or anything sticking out of the door. You turned the handle and pushed the door open quickly, thinking something might splash on you from the top. Nothing happened, walking all the way in the room you’re still searching for something out of the ordinary. You’re so focused on some dumb prank and looking for something small around your room that you failed to notice what’s on your bed. When you finally turn around and look at your bed, you gasp and cover your mouth really quickly. 

On top of your bed is the cutest romper you had ever seen along with a pair of matching converse and a note on top addressed to you. Walking over to the bed you admire the outfit first. It’s white with a red and pink rose floral pattern, it has a halter top neckline, and the shorts came halfway down your thigh. Picking it up you noticed it was open-backed. Smiling at your new favorite outfit, you lay it down and pick up the note with your name on it. Written in your amazing boyfriend’s doctor handwriting. Opening the note you look down and start reading.

“My dearest, (y/n). I have a surprise waiting for you. Please put on the outfit I laid out for you. I hope to see you at 7. Follow the clues to find me. Good luck! Love, Marco   Your first clue is: Go to where we shared our first kiss.” 

Looking at your clock, you notice that it’s already 4:30. How many clues are there, you think to yourself. Hopefully you can find them all and especially find him by 7! Rushing around your room, you quickly get changed. Looking in the mirror one last time you realize how cute this romper looks on you and how amazing it is that Marco found it just for you. Putting on your new converse because he knows that you’ll never wear anything else, even if it’s supposed to be fancy. You can put the girl in a nice outfit, but you can’t take her out of her converse. Which is something you have told him multiple times. You look at the clock one last time before you rush out of your room. It’s 4:45 which means you have two hours and fifteen minutes to finish Marco’s surprise scavenger hunt. 

Remembering clue number one, you start to head to the stern of the ship. While on your way you reminisced about your first kiss. You were in the middle of passionately telling Marco about something. You couldn’t even remember what it was because all you can remember is the next moment. Marco had grabbed you with both of his hands, one on each side of your face and immediately kissed you. That first kiss took your breath away, just thinking about it takes your breath away all over again. He was so passionate and gentle all at the same time, his lips were as soft as you always thought they’d be. When he pulled back he just smiled at you and pretended like nothing happened and even motioned for  you to continue your story. Like you could even think after a kiss like that.

Shaking your head at the memory you finally reach your destination, Izo is standing there waiting for you. 

“Well (y/n), are you ready for clue number two?” Izo asked while smirking and holding out another note addressed to you. 

“Izo, you’re in on this too? Can’t you just please tell me where he is, I’m too anxious! I need to know!” You exclaimed, while reaching for the next clue.

“Aww. Where would be the fun in that. It’d ruin the surprise! I’m not telling you, also I think if I did Marco would throw me off the side of the ship. So you’re just gonna have to figure it out (y/n).” Izo said as he walked away from you, leaving you with the note. 

Rolling your eyes at Izo because you should’ve known that he was gonna say that. You open up your next clue. It said

“When you were talking that day, the passion in your eyes was so beautiful. That I couldn’t help myself but grab your face and kiss you. The blush you had went on for days and I thought you had never been so cute. Now head to where we both said “I love you” for the first time.”

Smiling at the clue, you take off towards Marco’s office. Remembering that day like it was yesterday, you think back to that moment. The Whitebeard Pirates had just fought a group of marines that tried to ambush them on an island that we had just docked at. Within the hour the marines were defeated and we had already sailed away and lost them. You unfortunately got a deep cut on your right shoulder from a stray sword you couldn’t block in time. You headed to Marco to get stitches and as he was treating you he was yelling at you about how careless you were and seemed to be about your injury. Which led to a major fight. In the middle of the fight he yelled out.

“I LOVE YOU! Look (y/n), I know you are really strong and a great fighter. Just please be careful and more aware. I just can’t lose you.” 

You started crying and pulled him into a hug. 

“I love you too. I do take this seriously and you won’t lose me.” you whispered in his ear. 

Pulling yourself out of memory lane, you walk into his office and sitting on the table where Marco gave you your stitches was Ace. 

“Wow.. So did you really go in my room or was Thatch just saying that to get me to go in my room looking for something?” You accused while walking up to Ace reaching for the next clue. 

“Nah. It wasn’t me who did that, but pranking you is something I do enjoy doing. So Thatch had a great excuse.” Ace laughed while handing you the next clue.

“Yea, too bad you do the worst pranks. I wonder how many clues there are, it’s already 5:30 and he expects me to find him by 7.”You muttered to yourself. Breaking the seal and opening the third clue.

“Hey! I do great and funny pranks! You just don’t have a sense of humor. Honestly I don’t know how many he has (y/n), but read the note aloud! I wanna know what it says!” Ace said excitedly bouncing in his seat, while also trying to defend his subpar pranking abilities.

“Fine, It says. I was so upset that day, because I felt a fraction of what I think it would feel like to lose you. I never want to feel that way again. I promise to always protect you and love you. Let’s go back to where this all began. Your next destination is the spot where we first met.” You read out loud as you tried not to cry over Marco’s sweet promise.

“Wow. Marco is way smoother than I gave him credit for. Also he’s super cheesy. So where did you guys first meet?” Ace asked while he hopped down off the table. 

“We actually first met on the deck, he was sitting next to Pops. Thatch brought me to the ship wanting to bring me on as his Sous Chef/Pastry Chef and when has Pops ever turned someone who needed a family away.” You said as you started walking out the door headed for the deck to see Pops, turning your head and looking at Ace as you said the last part.

It was a dreary day on a random island on the grand line. It was pouring down outside the little cafe you owned. Two men ran into the cafe to get out of the rain, you later found out their names were Thatch and Jozu. Since there were no other customers you decided to take them up on their offer and sit down with them and get to know each other. When you started talking about how you were all alone on this island with no family and no one really to call friends both Thatch and Jozu demanded you come join their crew and be a part of their family. Thatch especially after he tasted how delicious your cooking and baking were. You were a little weary just because, well they were pirates but so far they seemed like really good people. You also had always dreamed of adventure and a place far away from all these bad memories. So you packed your essentials and took off with them and never looked back. You finally had a family and a dad who loves you and all his children unconditionally. 

While on your way to see Pops, you couldn’t help but think about how different your life would’ve been if Thatch and Jozu never ran into your cafe all those years ago. You wouldn't have the family or friends you trusted. All the adventures you’ve been on wouldn’t have happened. Most importantly, you would have never met the love of your life, Marco. That is what you would’ve missed out on the most. 

Stepping out onto the front deck, you noticed the sun was starting to go down and the sky was starting to turn a bright orange. 

“Pops, please tell me this is the last one. It’s almost 7 and I still haven’t found Marco yet. Ace completely sidetracked me and I lost precious time. I’m worried I’ll ruin the surprise because I’ll be late.” You worried while walking up to your dad and hugging him. 

“Yes my daughter, you can stop worrying now because this is the last clue and you will find him before 7 like I knew you would.” Pops reassured you as he handed you the last clue. 

“Ohhh! Thank you!!” You exclaimed while ripping open the note to see where you can finally find Marco. Reading the note it said.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You didn’t notice me at first which is fine but you instantly captivated me. You had flour smudged on your face and it was clear you had just been pulled out of a bakery of some sort. I knew then just by looking at you that you were different and I had to get to know you. So that leads me to the final spot. Where we connected every time we sat and talked together. Go to where we eat every meal together.”

“What, this makes no sense. Why would Marco be at the table we eat at everyday? What’s the significance?” You asked confused while looking up at Pops. Who merely just shrugged his shoulders. 

“Only one way to find out (y/n).” pops called out as you had already started walking towards the dining hall. 

“Also when are you guys gonna start having KIDS?” Pops yelled out.

“POPS!! Stop!!” You yelled back flushing with embarrassment as some of the crew around heard what was said and started laughing.

“WHAT? I’m ready to be a grandpa!!” He yelled back at you, joining in with everyone laughing at the situation.

Feeling even more embarrassed all you could do was start running to where you knew you would find Marco.  

Stopping right outside the dining room doors, to catch your breath from running all the way here. You continued to ponder on why here specifically. After catching your breath, you knew the only way to get an answer was to walk in and ask Marco himself. 

Pushing open the doors to the dining room, you see him sitting exactly in the same spot he always sits in while eating. Although most everyone was here and had food in front of them, no one was eating. Everyone was patiently waiting to see what happens next. You slowly approached Marco and sat down in your seat opposite of him. Looking at him you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. He had dressed up just for you, he was wearing a white button down shirt and black dress pants. He also had on a red tie that complemented the outfit he gave you. Looking back up at Marco he grabbed both your hands from across the table. 

“Marco, I don’t understand. Did I miss an anniversary? I know I’m super forgetful but I never thought I would miss an important date.” You asked as you looked at him, all he did was lightly smile and shake his head. 

“(Y/n), it was this very spot six months after getting to know you, three weeks before I kissed you, and two months before I told you I love you. It was this very spot that I first knew I was deeply in love with you. So in love with you that I couldn't get you out of my head and everyone was tired of me talking about you or asking about you. So they forced me to do something about it. That was one year ago today, that I came to this realization. I just really wanted to do something special for you and I know you love surprises and scavenger hunts.” Marco professed as he looked into your tear stained face. While the whole dining room is fangirling over their OTP being so cute. 

“Why are you crying (y/n), I’m so sorry!” Marco panicked thinking he did something terribly wrong and trying to wipe your tears away. 

“No No! Don’t be sorry! This is just the most sweetest thing someone has ever done for me and it makes me love you even more, which I didn’t know was even possible.” You said as you tried to hug Marco over the table.

“Hey, there’s more planned. Come on, follow me!” Marco said as he grabbed your hand and started walking back out onto the deck.

“Where are we going?” You asked once you were both on the front deck. By this time the sky was in full sunset mode and it was so beautiful.

“You’ll see, I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Hop on, we gotta fly there.” He said while he was helping you climb onto his back. 

Flying with Marco was an experience you think you’ll never get used to. He’s so warm and the flight is always so relaxing that you have a hard time not falling asleep because you feel so safe and comforted with him. Getting to fly during sunsets was always your favorite. All the beautiful colors mixed with Marco’s phoenix coat, never failed to take your breath away. 

Finally getting to your destination, it’s a cliff side picnic. Overlooking the ocean with the Moby Dick in the distance. There were a few candles around the blanket for light, since the sun was going down. It was simply picturesque and you still couldn’t believe that Macro did all this for you.

“I love you so much, but you really didn’t have to do this.” You told him, while you both were starting to eat the meal Thatch had prepared for the date. 

“Yes I did, you deserve to be spoiled every once in a while (y/n). Also I wanted you to know about the significance of this day. I love you too and I can’t wait to spend many more years by your side.” Marco confessed, while grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. You just smiled and shook your head at him.

The night went on very peacefully. After you both finished dinner it was finally dark outside. You blew out the candles and laid back on the blanket. You guys stargazed for about two hours, just cuddling and whispering about dreams and life in general. When it got too cold for you even with Marco’s heat. He packed everything up and flew you back to the ship. After changing and crawling into bed, right before sleep was about to take you. You turned over and looked at Marco. 

“This was the most perfect date I think we’ve had yet. Thank you, Marco.” You whispered, Marco smiled and simply leaned forward and kissed your forehead. Then you drifted off into a blissful sleep next to the sweetest man you know.

[theshipsfirstmate]

Agents of SHIELD Fic: All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had

post-SHIELD 7x06 and also post-Agent Carter season 2. peggysous -> daisysous.

doing my best to tie up the loose ends that get Daniel from Peggy to Daisy, because I, like many others, could not have imagined shipping him with anyone else and then the last few eps of SHIELD have taken a sledgehammer to my feelings. so, just like this ship, idk where this came from, but here it is.

Title from “Something in Common” by Dawes.

All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had (AO3 - wc: 3218)

After Peggy went back to New York, Daniel told himself to take it easy.

And he tried, he really did. He even said it in his head, sometimes, the way Jack had: “Take it easy, Danny boy.” The wise-cracking agent had never stopped teasing him, even after they had become something resembling friends. But he was gone now too, left behind in a past that didn’t feel as distant as it should.

They’d had all of one day together, he and Peg, before everything went to hell. She had kissed him -- in his office, of all places -- and he had reveled in it for a few blissful moments before sending her away with a matching grin on her face, so he could pick her up later that evening for a proper date.

He’d planned on Musso and Frank -- had been carrying around the image in his mind for longer than he’d admit to anyone -- but after he picked her up and saw that mischievous flash in her eyes, he’d called an audible, turning the car south on Western, guessing she’d be up for something a little more adventurous. He was right, she was taken with El Coyote from the moment they walked in, wide-eyed and grinning at everything from the margarita glasses to the friendly waitress who’d winked and called him “Blanquito.”

Looking back at it now, he’s almost glad he doesn’t remember too many more of the details. He doesn’t remember what they ordered or exactly how long they’d sat and talked in that booth. He just remembers the warmth of her eyes, her hand in his across the table, the way she seemed more relaxed than he’d ever known her to be. Those were the things to hold onto.

He’d dropped her off with a gentlemanly kiss at her front door -- and a less-than-gentlemanly follow-up when she’d tried to convince him to come in for coffee. His only regret now was not taking her up on the offer. Not so much for the obvious reason, just to give them a few more easy hours before it all came crashing down.

Because when Daniel returned to his own front door that night, there was a patrolman — one of the new guys, whose name he had to read off his badge in the dim porch light — sitting on the stoop, waiting for him. 

“Thompson’s gone,” the kid said. “Never made it on the plane. Signs of a struggle in his room. And a lot of blood.”

The next week was non-stop, chaos and panic and a wild goose chase that had led them everywhere but to Jack. A sinister cloud hung over the entire office, and the spectral whispers of the one name no one wanted to speak aloud echoed in the desperate silences. He and Peggy barely had a chance to look at each other, let alone talk about anything but the latest scraps of evidence, and when it was all over, well, there was no relief there, either.

He’s never gotten used to funerals, and having a hand to hold this time didn’t make it that much easier, not with the weight of failure pressing down on them both.

Thompson had fought hard, that much was clear when they’d finally found him. But it wasn’t enough. That was Daniel’s biggest fear every time he thought about the facts they had been able to gather, every time the unspeakable name echoed in the confines of his restless brain. Cut off one head, and two more take its place -- would they ever be enough to fight it? Would it ever be easier?

__________________

“You know it truly is nothing to do with you, don’t you?” Peggy had asked him, eyes turned down to the table between them, to the cups of coffee untouched and growing cold. This time, Daniel didn’t reach out for her hand. He listened to the buzz of the planes taking off at the Lockheed Air Terminal down the road, and wished it were enough to drown out the whole day entirely.

“Peg, you don’t have to do that,” he’d muttered, feeling childish. “Spare me the pity, I-”

“Daniel,” she’d interrupted, in that tone that left no room for questions. “I’ve never pitied you, and I certainly don’t intend to start now.”

He stared back, silent. That was the problem, you see, with the goodness of a heart like hers. There was no artifice, no way to crack back in a moment like this one. As miserable as it was, he was going to have to sit here and take it.

“Please,” she’d continued, softer, still barely looking at him. “I want to say it. I need you to know.”

He’d huffed out a breath through his nose and aimlessly fiddled with the tiny pitcher of milk. “OK.”

“I want to say…” she had started, stopped and gathered herself, then started again. “I want to tell you that you deserve so much more than what I can give you.”

He’d hated hearing the cliche, even as he weighed its truth. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he deserved, but hadn’t he known it would be this way from the start? Hadn’t a part of him always worried that there wouldn’t be room in her heart for the kind of life he wanted to share? 

“It’s not for the reason you think,” she’d insisted, before he could come up with something to say in response. “I promised myself….When Steve died, I promised myself I would keep up the fight.”

She hardly ever said his name aloud. It didn’t ruffle Daniel as much as he expected, but it did make him speak up.

“I’m in it with you, Peg. I hope at least you know that.”

She’d nodded, and then she’d finally looked up -- and he immediately wished to God she hadn’t. Because there, behind the sheen of barely-restrained tears, was their ending.

“All we can do is our best,” she told him, not for the first time. “And I think we both know this fight is going to take the best we have.” 

He nodded and swallowed against the lump in his throat he was starting to worry might be permanent. 

“But this... It’s too much for me, Daniel. I can’t lose you too.”

A bitter part of his brain pointed out that it was ironic, to say that as she walked away. But he tamped that down, and told her the only truth he could find that felt like it wouldn’t make things worse.

“I’ll miss you, Peg.”

She had reached out then, squeezed his hand fast and tight, telling him the same before swiping beneath her eyes. And then, she was gone.

Easy.

__________________

Daniel had tried, he really had. In his brief moments of free time as they watched the Hydra trail dry up hopelessly once again, he went on a handful of absolutely mediocre dates with the sunny blonde who worked the front desk at the local library and the brunette waitress who left her number on his receipt at the diner. He even let the guys at the office set him up once with a busty redhead who was so forward he spent the next week trying to suss out whether or not they’d paid her.

But there wasn’t anything there. There wasn’t anything anywhere, it seemed. With every interested woman he met -- and there were a few, he didn’t mind saying -- it was the same as it had been with Violet. Perfectly fine, perfectly nice, perfectly room temperature. In another lifetime, maybe he could have convinced himself that’s what it was supposed to feel like. But not now. 

And then one day, he walked into his office on a top-secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base, and met a girl from the future.

There was something about her, right from the beginning. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, and he saw something familiar in the mischievous glint in her eye — he’d been able to clock her CIA lie on its face, though it was just one part of a larger, much more confusing puzzle.

At first, he thought his reaction to her was just part of the chaos -- excess adrenaline at the prospect of seeing Peggy unexpectedly and the frantic and unexplainable events that followed. But then it didn’t go away.

She kept surprising him, that was familiar too. Comforting, almost, in a bizarre, backwards kind of way. She saved his life on the train — he’s always had extra respect for a woman who could throw a good punch. And he hadn’t missed the shadow that crossed her face when he mentioned all the things that Hydra had taken from him. There was even more to uncover, he was sure of it. Even finally learning her first name, Daisy, had him furrowing his brow at the dichotomy.

But there was hardly time to dwell on it. He’d expected to drive out of that futuristic aircraft and never see her, or any of her compatriots, ever again. He’d deliver his package to Stark, go home to an empty house, and wake up tomorrow to throw himself back into the work.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the familiar eagle on the wall, and Agent Coulson was telling him he was dead. Like it was that easy.

__________________

He tried to throw himself into the fight immediately — he’s always been aware of the liability of dead weight and there wasn’t any time to stumble around and gather his bearings if he was going to be useful in the team’s mission to stop the Chronicoms.

Still, he would catch Daisy watching him, warily, like a timer on a bomb. She teased him in the clothing store, elbowing him playfully when he stopped dead at the “modern” 1970s fashions, but when he met her eyes, there was something more insistent looking back at him. It was like she was asking him a question neither of them could put into words, sizing up whether or not he was going to run, or stay, or fit, or break, or...something.

He tried his best to not to give her more to worry about. So he wouldn’t be the one to extract Hydra from S.H.I.E.L.D. in the ‘50s -- as it turned out, there were plenty of other ways to save the world. That was the core of the mission he’d signed up for from the start, and he felt more at ease the more he realized this was a team devoted to the same cause.

But he wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that made him step up behind her in that underground bar and call her “sweetheart” -- maybe the same misguided sense of chivalry that got him a dressing down after he made Krzeminski apologize to Peggy in the briefing room back in New York. Mercifully, Daisy had gone along with his ruse, surprising him again with a palm pressed to his chest and a conspiratorial grin in his direction. 

And he hoped it was duty again, not the memory of that smile, that made him insist on accompanying her to hack into the base. After a confrontation with the scruffy kid with the dark circles under his eyes, he was more aware than ever that this team was just barely more adjusted to their circumstances than he was. But that still didn’t quite explain his growing desire to stay at Daisy’s side. 

What he was really looking for, if he’s honest, was a bit of solid ground. What he was wondering was if the feeling in his chest would turn out to be fleeting, if the quaking he’d felt when she touched him was because of her powers — or if it was something else entirely.

Because it seemed like something he never felt with Violet or the librarian or any of the rest. It seemed like it might be something he’s only felt once before. And it’s just his luck that it comes wrapped up in even more danger.

He tagged along just the same, watching her back and trying to learn on his feet about all the things she could do in addition to making the earth shake. She could break into a computer network he can’t even begin to comprehend, she could snap a crystal clear picture of him on that thin screen she said was a telephone, she could quirk an eyebrow at him and make him forget, just for a moment, that his life had descended once again into supernatural chaos.

“You look OK for a guy who just aged 20 years.” She teased him a second time as he marveled at the photo, and his stomach flipped all the way over to melancholy. But he wasn’t totally honest about why.

His heart ached at the thought of Peggy getting the news of his “death,” but the biggest goodbye of all, Daniel had realized, was to the man he used to be. However lonely and lukewarm he thought his life had been, he hadn’t been prepared to lose it so suddenly. There was possibility there, and promise to mourn, and the uncertainty about what lay ahead now had given him a rose-colored rearview mirror to look back at all he had left behind.

But when he told Daisy that this might be his last stop, she had simply turned back to her computer, assuring him their current dilemma was just a minor setback -- “Without us, it’s way worse,” she said.

She said it like she’d already accepted him as part of the team, like another thing she knew that he didn’t was that he hadn’t lost himself to the ether of time travel. She said it like he belonged.

It made the decision seem easy enough.

__________________

When the Malick kid’s goons bring her back, when he sees her limp and bloodied, slumped on the floor beside him, he has another flash to his past -- Peggy lying prone, impaled on a mean-looking length of rebar. He had learned that night how strong she really was. Not just because she had survived, but because she had let him see her at her weakest and most terrified, had let him haul her into his arms and onto his couch and into focus for his fiancee, who he knew would be able to see right through it all. 

He had blown up his entire life just for the weak, grateful smile they shared when they realized she was going to be OK. And it had been worth it.

Daisy doesn’t seem the type to let someone stroke her hair either, but Daniel tries to stop himself from drawing any more parallels right then and there. He keeps checking her pulse point like an excuse, and hopes it’s a fair trade-off that he agrees to tell her the story of his rescue. 

He doesn’t like to think about Stevens much, about the way he’s carried the potential of that pesky man's life with him every day since he woke up on that stretcher. That’s what you do when someone dies for you. You have to live for them.

That makes him think of Peggy again -- and then, unbidden, of Steve Rogers. He remembers the stories they used to tell about what Captain America was like before the serum: skinny, frail, half a dozen 4F rejections under various pseudonyms. He thinks of that kid, plucked from the life he was supposed to live and thrust onto a pedestal that must have felt completely untenable at times -- given muscle and then immediately handed the weight of the world.

And now there’s Daisy, with these powers. The kind of strength good men would covet and evil men would kill for. And like him, she’s left behind whatever life she had in order to fight her way through space and time and try to save humanity.

Peggy was a woman who ran headfirst into a storm without giving so much as a thought to an umbrella. Daisy, he’s learning, is the storm itself.

So he talks to her, and he keeps talking. He tells her things he’s never told another living person. In fairness, he thinks, he’s technically known her almost 20 years.

He tells her about survival, certain she already knows. He tells her about warfare, a different type than she’s seen, but with a common enemy. He tells her to fight -- and when she shows him the shard of glass she’s snuck back to him in a bloody palm, he knows the way his heart thuds could be just as dangerous as the psychopath in the other room.

Daniel’s always been good at waiting for his moment, and mercifully, it comes not long after Daisy slips completely into unconsciousness. He shifts away from her on the dirty floor to avoid risking further injury, and he readies himself like he had in the trenches.

When the time comes, he fights, just like he knows Stevens must have fought to get him to safety. They catch a lucky break when the earth-rattling powers prove to be too much for Malick to handle, and he carries her back to the ship, leg aching all the way, remembering the stern nurse in the field hospital who had looked down her glasses at him every time he’d complained about the throbbing.

“It’s the beat of your heart, soldier, remember that,” she had snipped as she doled out his meds. “If nothing else, it means you’re still alive.”

The team meets him at the door to help Daisy into their med bay, and when Agent Simmons mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “Not again,” something else twists inside Daniel’s chest. Shrugging off his own first aid until she’s been attended to, he takes a seat by the door to stay present but out of the way. Maybe some small part of him hopes that when she wakes, he’ll be a familiar face.

If he’s honest, he’s never thought about living to see the end of the 20th century, never even considered it. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. director with war injuries and more than his fair share of close calls, it would have taken nothing short of a miracle. But he doesn’t think twice when the scruffy kid -- Deke, he remembers this time -- tells them they’re about to jump again. He's not sure when he changed his mind, but it’s been changed, nonetheless. 

“I’m where I need to be,” he says, as the soft beeps of Daisy’s monitor assure him that if nothing else, she’s still alive.

Easy never felt quite right, anyway.

[mewmedic]

A Very Kingfield Christmas

Read it on AO3 here.

Summary: Dwight and David are both working at the mall during the horrendous holiday season. They sometimes keep each other company to make the job more tolerable. Dwight wants to move forward in their relationship but can he get into the Christmas spirit to pull it all together?

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual sex occurs.

Notes: My first DbD fic was supposed to be either Megdette or Dwake because those are my favorite ships. However, I came up with a clever Kingfield Christmas idea and Christmas week also happens to be Kingfield week. Fate had taken the wheel from me on this one. I hope it's alright because I haven't written any fics in years. Enjoy!

       It was finally time. After four hours of pain and suffering, the moment Dwight had been waiting for had assuredly arrived, his legally mandated 30-minute lunch break. It was two o’ clock in the afternoon, late for lunch but a perfect time for a break as it was exactly in the middle of his shift. His Job? He played the role of “Mr. Elf” in the fantastical production of daily life many would call “being an assistant for a mall Santa.” He served this noble part-time cause all for the glorious reward of eight dollars an hour.

      Dwight quickly rushed past the employee-only doors and headed to the punch out machine. Once upon a time, this wouldn’t be such a nerve-wracking experience but now lunch brought the opportunity to talk to a certain someone. He had recently started a relationship of sorts with a fellow employee, a British fellow by the name of David King. That is, if you considered getting fucked in a car within one of the mall’s many parking lots a relationship. He was currently trying to upgrade to getting fucked in a bedroom at the bare minimum. A man can dream, can’t he?

       Sometimes the two would be able to chat as they eat, but other times David’s schedule just didn’t line up perfectly with his. Dwight always took his break at the same time every day, so it was really up to David to reciprocate. He had finished giving his precious time data and fingerprint to the punch out machine, rounded the corner, and there he was. David sat in a cheap foldable chair at plastic table, eyes on his phone for a moment but then he looked up and nodded to Dwight.

       David’s dark red uniform consisting of a billed cap, button-up top, and cargo pants could use an ironing, but Dwight really had no room to talk. His own uniform had him trapped in itchy elf ears, an even itchier sweater, and a pair of pantaloons over leggings he had to thrift because he ripped the original pair. The worst part was the bells attached to the pantaloons, which jingled with every step he took towards the fridge. He grabbed his lunch box out of the fridge and plopped down on the chair across from David. Within Dwight lunchbox was a ham and cheese sandwich, a chocolate chip cookie, a bag of cheesy chips, and a water bottle. David on the other hand, had nothing but a beige-colored protein shake.

       “You arrest any shoplifters today, mister mall cop?”

       “You know I’m not a damn mall cop-“

       “You’re a supervisor contracted out by a security company that works with the mall.” Dwight placed his chin in his palm and his elbow on the table, attempting to lean his body towards his companion. David crossed his arms, sharing a performative pout as he reclined back in his chair.

       “And no, I didn’t arrest anyone. Even if I wanted to, I can only observe and report. They don’t even give me handcuffs!”

      David did not have handcuffs at the ready, he tossed that fantasy out of mind. Dwight and David enjoyed the faux verbal jousting and it always quickly led to complaining about their jobs. Sometimes it was nice to have a routine, especially during the chaos of the holiday season. After all, nothing united coworkers quite like shit-talking a job with the risk that their boss may potentially be within earshot.

       “Today, a girl who had to be at least eighteen threw herself onto Bill’s lap and started yelling about wanting a new gaming rig. I had to pry her off of him while her friends laughed at us. I thought the old man was gonna break his hip.”

        “Customers act like Christmas is open season to being an asshole to us. I hoped maybe Americans would be different but they’re just as wild as back home this time of year.”

       There was a pause between the two as David gulped down a long sip of his protein shake. Dwight seized the moment to rip a bite out of his sandwich, it had grown soggy after sitting for hours in the poorly maintained refrigerator. It was then that he realized that he knew nothing about English life and learning more could be a way to get closer to David.

       “What is Christmas like in England?”

       “Well, when you’re a kid. You don’t send your letters to Santa off to the post. You burn it in the fire.”

      “That’s insane. How is it supposed to get to the North Pole?”

      “I don’t know! The same way Santa’s fat-ass slides down the chimney. It’s all stupid magic that parents makeup. We also got this thing called a Christmas cracker.”

      “Oooh, sounds yummy.”

      “It’s not a snack. It’s a present you pull on both ends and it cracks open. Usually has a paper crown and other trinkets inside.” While David spoke, he pantomimed the act of tugging on the ends of this so-called cracker and then wiggled his fingers to represent the explosive crack. A smarmy grin creeped across his lips, “Of course, Christmas really gets interesting once you can get piss drunk.”

       “C’mon, we do that here in the States too.”

       “No, I mean really drunk. Parents will even leave out brandy and a mince pie for Santa too.”

       “Wow, I couldn’t imagine being like ‘Okay Junior, we have to make sure Santa can get wasted tonight.’ Sounds wild.”

      The two briefly chuckled for a moment. David consumed another gulp of his shake; Dwight shoved a handful of cheesy chips in his mouth. The two sat in silence for another moment, the only sound the crunching of said chips.

      “Do Americans eat chipolatas on Christmas?”

      “I have no idea what that is.”

      “It’s a sausage, for Christmas we wrap it in bacon.”

      “That sounds fucking incredible.”

      “One thing I see here that I wish more folks did back home is all these fairy light. Americans love to have a show of things.”

        “Oh, I have my apartment decorated like that.” This was silly little lie. Dwight was too busy working one and a half jobs to adorn his dwelling in accordance with any festivities. The poor fool could barely clean his bedroom once a month. He would be willing to make time to decorate if the glow of Christmas evening were enough to attract David.

      “Well, I’d be delighted to see your flat. What’s it like?”

      “It’s… Cozy.” This was not a lie so much, since ‘cozy’ was basically the millennial code word for ‘tiny studio apartment.’ Dwight gulped and could feel a line of sweat drip down from his hairline. This was the pivotal moment he had been anticipating every time he punched out for lunch. He just needed to work up the courage to make the move. “I’m free this weekend if you want to come by. I’ll have eggnog and we can watch a movie… If you want, that is.”

      “I’m free Saturday after eight. That good for you?”

      “Sure!” Dwight accidentally spoke with a little too much enthusiasm and the realization made his cheeks redden a little. He averted his gaze from David and looked down to his mediocre sandwich. The two continued to enjoy their meals, and each other’s company, for a brief moment until they were interrupted by an alarm on David’s phone. The Brit returned his protein shake to the refrigerator and gave a parting salute.

     “See you when I see you.”

     “Have fun supervising.”

      He couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across his face as David exited the break room. He really pulled it off. Now he had to sacrifice what precious free time he possessed to pull off an exterior and interior decoration job. He could pull the whole operation off in the next three days, right? Did Dwight have what it takes to make this Christmas merry? Not really, but he can damn well try.

[elareine]

Fic Masterpost

For a masterpost of my tumblr ficlets, see here.

Note: I’ve added fics with multiple pairings to every relevant category.

Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Secret Witness (34k, ao3) CSI except with ghosts. WIP. 

A Hope Like You (12k, ao3) A/b/o with single dad Jason and identity porn. WIP. 

Silver and shadow and vision of things not seen (8k, ao3) WW2 and post-WW2 urban fantasy noir. WIP.

Turn yourself toward home (4k, ao3) Retired pirate seeks retired navy officer.

The space between us (8k, ao3) Mr. & Mrs. Smith in space.

Hold me (like you held on to life) (6k, ao3) Vampire sex to spite the parents.

If I know you (4k, ao3) Annoyed witch cares for sleeping prince.

Lifelong learning (5k, ao3) College, but it’s not an AU.

safe with me (14k, ao3) Figuring out intimacy, with a dash of d/s.

Ornamental (2k, ao3)  Christmas party butt plug fun.

Far away (1k, ao3 I tumblr) + So close (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Tim’s in space and then he’s not.

Like no other pain (2k, ao3) Soulmates, but Tim makes it angsty. 

If I had a type (then baby it would be you) (1k, ao3 I tumblr) One-night stand with surprise bondmark.  

The Sacredness of Tears (13k, ao3)  Tim gets the ability to travel through time, but somehow that’s not the main story. 

The Reluctant Brides (13k, ao3) Genderbent regency.

Adamare (9k, ao3 I tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) Harry Potter AU. 

What demons they carry (5k, ao3 I tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14) Outsider POV of demon!Tim.

Shelter (19k, ao3) Royalty arranged marriage. 

glaukopis, promachos, atrytone (4k, ao3 I tumblr:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) A god and his reincarnated lover.

Not the hurricane (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Soft handjobs. 

Night falling softly and without mercy (4k, ao3 I tumblr) When you want to marry your bodyguard but are pretty sure he means to kill you. 

Reasons to be jealous (4k, ao3 I tumblr) Unfounded jealousy crack. Side DickDami.

Just a fool for you (6k, ao3 I tumblr) The Regency Daemon Thing. (Part two of ‘foolish, perhabs’)

A fool’s game (1k, ao3 I tumblr)  Outsider POV of The Regency Daemon Thing. (Part one of ‘foolish, perhabs’)

A fool to believe (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Epistolary companion to The Regency Daemon Thing. (Part three of ‘foolish, perhabs’)

Blood will tell (9k, ao3) October Daye AU. 

So easy to begin (4k, ao3) Dealin’ with fear toxin and trauma, a/b/o-style. 

Somebody ring the alarm (2k, ao3) Strangers flirting while undercover.

To love and to honour (6k, ao3) Five anniversaries and a wedding. 

A question of trust (3k, ao3) Jason hides an injury.

The Wedding Job (3k, ao3) Leverage-style heist.

One day the slipper fits (2k, ao3) The perils of not-dating. 

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd 

clock ticking (sudden silence) (7k, ao3 I tumblr) Dick’s soulmate timer is an asshole. 

The stars gaze back (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Stardust AU with more swearing.

In the Shallows (20k, ao3) Celebrity ‘She Loves Me’ AU.

I dream of our story (our fairytale) (1k, ao3 I tumblr)  Epilogue to In the Shallows. 

A revolution is a simple thing (6k, ao3) Anastasia AU.

Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne

Soft, sweet (and never too much) (2k, ao3) Sweet and kinky PWP.

Don't make me close one more door (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Bodyguard AU. Dami goes undercover and develops feelings. 

Misperceptions (6k, ao3 I tumblr) DamiDick-centric compaion to Reasons to be jealous.

Damian Wayne/Tim Drake

These stars will guide us home (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Developing feelings while being far apart.

Vigil (4k, ao3 I tumblr) Injuries, cuddles and feelings. DamiTim, Joyfire+Dick.

That sacred bond (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Fake marriage for the aliens.

Jason Todd/Roy Harper

Winners get road rash with @scootboot97​ (3k, ao3 I tumblr) College AU dorks and oral. 

Of wizards and black knights (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Cyberpunk damsel in not-so-much distress. 

Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Wonder (2k, ao3) Officer Grayson partners up with Batman.

All that's dead and gone and passed tonight (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Hunger Games AU. 

Tim Drake/Conner Kent

Met a boy (cute as can be) (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Summer romance.

Snow comes down in June (2k, ao3 I tumblr) College dumbasses try to stay friends.

Jason Todd/Damian Wayne

That word on your skin (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Getting the same tattoo is one way to ask for a date.

warmth, shared (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Jason’s feeling old and gets cuddles on a mountain.

Jason Todd/Roy Harper/Tim Drake

At its core (1k, ao3 I tumblr)  Considering fatherhood and marriage. 

Turning point (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Cuddles against nightmares, with a surprise ghost.

Other ships (DC)

Vigil (4k, ao3 I tumblr) Injuries, cuddles and feelings. Joyfire+Dick, DamiTim. 

The wonderful everyday (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Flirting in an Ikea. Joyfire.

Down, down (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Prince visits tentacled sea witch. Superbat.

Would make me whole (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Angsty jerk-off session. JayRoyDick.

Promises (whispered, shouted) (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Injuries in the desert with not much hope. JonDami.

Won't you die tonight for love (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Vampire marriage surprisingly includes a third person. DamiJayTim.

You still look like a movie (2k, ao3 I tumblr) High school teachers pine. DickWally, side JayTim.

Spellbound (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Morning after marred by worry about a love potion. Trinity.

Through the night (we'll make it) (2k, ao3 I tumblr) H/C vignettes. Robinpile.

Gen (DC) 

rewind, fast forward, stop (3k, ao3 I tumblr)  Deaged Jason angst. Jason, batfamily.

In silence (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Jason’s telepathy doesn’t help him with Bruce. Jason, Bruce.

A soft place to land (2k, ao3) Trying to get Bruce to retire. Jason, Dick, batfamily.

touched your head gently (felt my heart melt) (7k, ao3) Movie-verse Floyd as a father through the years. Floyd, Zoe, squad. 

Will someone tell me what's going on tonight (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Dick’s OC boyfriend is an asshole, Wally offers comfort. Dick/OC (past), Bruce, Wally

At its core (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Considering fatherhood and marriage. Duke-centric, side JayRoyTim.

Hockey RPF

Sometimes I lie (4k, ao3) An FBI agent and his informant. SidGeno.

Finding Surety  (13k, ao3) Fake Dating. Marner/Matthews.  

Do you know (I still miss you) (6k, ao3) Getting back together with a little help from your friends. Eichel/McDavid. (Part two of ‘Read all about it’)

The name that history wrote (8k, ao3) Harry Potter AU, triwizard tournament. Eichel/McDavid.

the whole world's out of sync (9k, ao3) 13 going on 30 AU. SidGeno.

stellar nucleosynthesis (13k, ao3) Magical realism and truth spells. Danny/Claude.

But you were always on my mind (7k, ao3) Soulmarks complicated by dyslexia.

Feather (9k, ao3) Crimean war magical realism AU. SidGeno.

Other fandoms

starts with truth (MCU, 8k, ao3) If Steve talked to Tony and Pepper earlier about the winter soldier. SteveTonyPepper.

someday my prince will come (X-Men Movies, 7k, ao3) Erik deals with an enchanted forest. Cherik.

Nothing easy worth doing (Power Rangers, 2k, ao3) Superheroing while autistic - pros and cons. 

Shoot me down (Star Wars, 12k, ao3) Kier survives. Everything else still happens. LeiaKierHan.

Ask his mind (ask his heart) (Star Wars, 2k, ao3)  Anakin gets dosed with sex pollen. ObiKin. 

A Woman is Herself (Lady Sherlock, 7k, ao3) Joanna Watson character study. JoannaJohn. 

Will it burn forever (this light) (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, 11k, ao3) Love spell adventures. ArthurTristan. (There’s a podcast!)

Someday soon (Arashi RPF, 1k, ao3) A glance into the future. Ohmiya. 

With fates to come (D.Gray-man, 1k, ao3) Tikki is Cassandra. TikkiAllen.

Dedication with @magoril​ (FBAWTFT, 2k, ao3) Theseus fixes things for his brother. TinaNewt. 

Shiny things (FBAWTFT, 2k, ao3) Percival gets a service Niffler. Gen. 

[contrabandhothead]

Hi again! I just sent in a request but I love getting shipped so I figured I’d send in one too:) I’m 5’1 with medium length brow hair & i guess curvy?(but not exactly secure about it) I’m studying nursing & live in the city:) I’m pretty funny (joker of my friend group & curse a lot I’ve been told&& my temper gets the best of me) I love dogs, painting, and my younger siblings(I’m the oldest by 12 years) Thank you so much! Can’t wait to read your writing! :) ❤️❤️❤️

wham bam yes ma’am! your wish is my command ;) 

*btw i’m working on your other request right now... I’m a perfectionist sometimes, sorry, but it should be up soon!* 

Bill Guarnere 

ok... hear me out

I just have a feeling you two would get along so well??? 

I feel like you guys would be a sort of best friends to lovers type of scenario 

so basically this is how I’m thinking it would go down

you arrived at Camp Toccoa for basic training just like all the other men 

except you weren’t a man 

and the men definintely gave you sh*t for it because sexism unfortunately exists

but like 

Bill just took an immediate liking to you 

at first it wasn’t romantic in any way, he more so saw you as a baby sister

he’d start defending you at lunch whenever the guys would poke fun at you, made sure you never fell behind during runs up Currahee, always made sure no one purposefully messed up your bunk so that Sobel would chew you out, etc. 

you guys understood each other’s humor 

you guys just understood each other overall without even talking about it

but after deployment, he saw you and Joe Toye getting closer and he started to get a little jealous 

he didn’t really understand why he was getting so agressive about it 

you, him, and Joe had been practically attached to each other’s hips during this whole goddamn war 

but right now, while you were sitting next to Joe, shivering in the cold and cuddling closer to him for warmth, he’d never wanted to clock someone in the face so hard 

so he did what Bill Guarnere does 

he immediately began avoiding you and Joe 

and then tried to throwing his feelings away entirely (spoiler alert: it didn’t work) 

you’re obviously like “??wtf??” because this isn’t like the Bill you know and you guys used to be so close 

you tried cornering him several times to ask him what his deal was 

but every single time you thought that you had got him cornered 

he’d just run off to Penkala and Muck to crack jokes or just randomly start talking to Buck 

you were getting pissed 

but you’re also upset

because this man is literally the love of your life and he’s just running away from you 

meanwhile Joe’s over here trying not to die or have either of you fight (poor Joe) 

finally, you cornered him to ask him what his f*ckin problem is 

and boy oh boy did you go off 

but he just snaps right back 

“Oh, really? Well, I wouldn’t be actin’ this way if it wasn’t for you and Joe!” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“You and Joe! Your boyfriend?” 

“I don’t have no goddamn boyfriend” 

you were done with his crap + everyone else thinking you had obviously seduced a man to let you into the military 

Bill knew he messed up 

he messed up big time 

he then spent a whole week trailing after you like “A lost puppy” - courtesy of Muck 

You finally talked to him 7 days later

he explained to you that he was just jealous and thought you and Joe were a thing because of how close you two were and that he just didn’t know how to admit to himself that he has feelings for you 

you forgave him obviously 

you stayed with him when he lost his leg, even though he tried to push you away 

he thought he wasn’t good enough for you in the first place and that “no one wants a cripple” 

but you loved him anyways and told him no matter how hard he tried, you weren’t going anywhere

he doesn’t mind the cursing, and he’ll knock the teeth out of anyone who says anything bad about you 

brags about you to EVERYONE in the company 

they’re tired of hearing about how perfect you are (they know it’s true though) 

would probably give you the moon if you asked for it

loves to run his fingers through your hair when you both lay in bed at night 

fully supports you going into nursing and anything that you do in general 

you could kill him and his ghost would be like “that’s my girl” 

is definitely simping for you 

wants to have kids with you so bad but makes it clear that it’s up to you if you want them 

his ma loves you 

would marry you without question, like out of nowhere

you both adopted a dog after the war 

it’s a dark chocolate pitbull named Toccoa

Toccoa is named after where you both met 

a d o r e s your paintings 

thinks you’re incredibly talented 

your foyer has a painting you made of your pitbull

it’s his favorite decoration in the entire house

Sorry this took me so long! I hope you enjoy it. You sound like such an incredible person. Have a fantastic day!

[lostbutterflyutau]

Soothing the Storm

Note: Originally written for weekly challenge prompt “storm” on the Fandom of Avalor. Now, I know I actually missed that deadline, but considering it is a ship fic, I feel it fits both that prompt and “Love” as well.

I’d also like to take time to thank @ograndebatata for suggestions throughout and taking time, as always, to beta for me.

***

“What do you think, Cleo? Will Audrina choose Marcelo or Nathaniel?” Carla asked as she turned a page in the book she was reading, gave a quick glance to the stuffed cat tucked in her left arm. “I mean, sure. Marcelo has that typical ‘suave prince’ thing going on, but Nathaniel is the one who’s sending those letters. I just know it!”

Of course, Cleo didn’t respond. The soft, innocent expression on her face stayed the same as it always had, but Carla still laughed to herself. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer, but she still liked talking to Cleo from time to time. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain ‘why’ if asked, but she still did it. She wondered for a moment if it was a sign that she’d become too attached to her or some lingering echo of the past loneliness she had felt as a child and then shook off the idea. She didn’t need to justify it. Point was, she just liked talking to her sometimes, usually when trying to work out complicated homework or, as she was doing now, the plot of her latest romance novel.

Carla looked at her companion again, sighed as she leaned further back into her pillow, “But first she needs to do something about that aunt of hers.” She frowned at the thought, turned focus back to the book. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she should be studying for her upcoming potions exam but was quick to shrug that off as well. She deserved a little break. Especially with how hard she’d already been working in regard to that exam. Besides, she just had to know how this chapter ended.

She turned another page, a silly grin returning at the letter in the following scene and how, after reading it, Audrina decided to meet the sender at the ball as requested. It was the oldest, most cliché plot device ever, but Carla found herself hooked on every word. There were many reasons she hid her love of these books from pretty much everyone, the stupidly cliché plotlines being one of them. While she knew they weren’t meant to be taken seriously, she was also aware of how other people viewed such novels and the stereotype of people who indulged in them and wasn’t interested in being one of them.

‘Please, don’t let this be another one of those misunderstandings that sends her after the wrong man,’ Carla thought to herself as she read on. Despite having promised herself that she would stop at the next chapter, she kept going, told herself she’d get up after finishing this one. This was the masquerade ball. The typical turning point for such stories. Whoever Audrina’s love was, they would finally get to talk face to face and – hopefully – share their first, honest kiss without any more disguises. And, given the rating of the book, she guessed that the kissing would be followed by another way of conveying their feelings. One that was more intense than kissing, but from what she knew of the author, just as loving.

She gave first a dreamy sigh and then a soft giggle at the thought before continuing on through that chapter and then part of the next one, forgetting what she’d promised herself. She just had to see that kiss, which seemed like it was finally going to happen when, after navigating a room full of curious people, Audrina finally made her way to the garden in hopes that her mystery man would be there just as the letter said. And then she saw him with his back turned to her, mask in hand. Her heart racing, she opened her mouth to speak and…

“Ah!” Carla startled out of the story, her book flying up when she jumped at the loud crack of thunder that sounded outside.

‘What the – ?’ She turned to look at the double-doors that led to her balcony, raised an eyebrow at the sound of the rain pattering against the glass. It had been raining on and off most of the day, but now seemed more intense than before. She frowned, turned, and slid off the bed, shivering a little when her bare feet hit the cold ground. She then took in a breath when she reached the doors and grabbed one of the violet drapes, hoping that there wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises as she gently peeled it back, eyes widening when she saw how dark the sky had gotten. She quickly glanced at the clock, thinking that maybe it was simply later than she thought. Of course, it wasn’t. Dinner had only ended two hours ago, and while it was past sunset, she had to concede to the fact that this wasn’t ordinary darkness. It was storm darkness.

Her frown deepened at the very word. Storm.

Carla slunk behind the curtain, one hand holding tight to the fabric as her eyes scanned the sky. On a logical level she knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. Not while she was safe and protected in the palace. Yet, she couldn’t help the dread that came along each time those type of clouds rolled in. Part of her hated it. Hated herself for still holding to such a silly childhood fear. The other jumped again when a flash of lightning broke through, a startled squeal leaving her lips as she stumbled backward, her foot getting caught in an upturned corner of the rug.

“Ow,” She muttered, rubbed the sore spot on her backside and took a moment to gather herself before she sighed and moved to stand back up. Despite her better judgement, she stepped towards the window again and gave the sky another hesitant glance, shivering at both the clouds and the rumbling she heard in the distance.

***

Meanwhile, upon hearing that same rumble, Gabe briefly looked up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing slightly. He had expected a storm given the day’s weather but had thought it would be a light one. He set the finished report on top of the others, tried to shake off the rising uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t that he had a problem with heavy storms, it was that Carla did and he hated how much they stressed her out. Not that it was her fault. It was just… there was only so much comfort he could offer during such times. Especially when he wasn’t even near her.

‘It’s still more than what you can offer by staying here,’ A voice pointed out from the back of his mind.

Gabe’s eyes narrowed another fraction. Yes. He could do more if he were with her at the moment, and he did want to be there comforting her to the best of his ability, but he also had things to do still. He had to get through this stack. It was already two days late and if he pushed it off any longer, more would just pile up on top of it. Besides, it wasn’t like she was completely alone. She had plenty of other people she could turn to if she really needed it. Elena even resided in the same hallway. If she really needed company, she could go to her. Or even come down to his office if it was him she needed. He wouldn’t turn her away, not on a night like this.

Though reluctant to do so, he turned back to his paperwork, tried to push the thought out of his mind as he picked up the next report. Unfortunately, changing focus didn’t do much. Thoughts of Carla and how she was coping remained in the back of his mind.

‘Stop it,’ He told himself. ‘She’s fine.’

He paused for a moment and took in a slow breath to recentre himself, turned the page over. He shifted his thoughts back to his work, determined to keep focus as he read over the page before him, making notes when needed.

Before he knew it, he had gotten through that report, and then another, a mix of pride and relief seeping through him as he closed it, glad to see that, for the most part, the guard was doing well. Of course, there were a few things to address. There always were. New recruit Arias looked like he needed a good dose of humility similar to the one Gabe himself had gotten in his early days. Then there were Rojas and Paz, who were butting heads often enough that he was considering separating them into different units. But those were both relatively minor infractions. Overall, he was proud to have maintained consistently good results since being appointed Captain.

A small smile breaking through at the thought, Gabe set the finished report on top of the designated pile and grabbed the next unread one, hoping that it would continue the trend of good news. The moment he opened it, however, a deafening thunderclap suddenly crashed into his ears, the impact making him flinch violently enough that he dropped the report.

He sat up, turned toward the window just in time to see two separate flashes of lightning cross the sky. His mind immediately turned back to Carla, the last storm they’d weathered together and how she’d showed up at his bedroom door in the middle of the night. While she tried her best to stay composed, when he opened the door, a violent rumble had her jumping into his arms. She ended up staying for the rest of that night, curled up close and clinging to him as he gently rubbed her back and soothed her through the howling winds and booming thunder until she finally fell back asleep, hand still intertwined with his.

As cheesy as it sounded, Gabe liked being that comforting presence for her. Sure, she could go to someone else, but it wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t know what was wrong or how to help. By her own admission, only he and Victor knew about her fear. She was too ashamed to tell anyone else because of how silly she felt it was and how she – Carla Delgado – Princess of Harmony, Royal Event Coordinator and Malvaga in training – could be brought down by some rain and thunder.

His frown returned at the thought just as another streak of light flashed across the sky. It was then that he set down his pen, decided that the reports could wait. It didn’t matter if more piled up later. What mattered now was Carla and how lonely she probably was at the moment. She hated feeling alone. Years of having no one to rely on but her father had been responsible for that. Not that he blamed anyone. It was simply the nature of her lifestyle. But simply understanding why she felt that way didn’t make him feel for her any less. And knowing both about her dislike of being alone and her fear of storms, he couldn’t help but be worried. He had to make sure she was alright.

***

“Carla?” Gabe called, gently rapping on her bedroom door once he arrived and giving a quiet sigh when she didn’t answer. He didn’t know why he expected her to. She was probably hiding. Even he had been startled by how booming the thunder was as he made his way through the halls. He tried knocking again, called her name a second time and put his ear to the door, listening for any sign of movement.

He waited another few seconds before pushing down the handle, announcing as he opened the door, “I’m coming in.”

Once inside, his eyes quickly scanned the room, seeing nothing out of place until they fell over the bed. While he didn’t actually see Carla, he did see a lump of purple that told him she was there curled up underneath her blanket. He smiled at the sight. Not because she was scared, but because of how cute she looked in acting as if she could use her blanket for protection from the storm.  

“Carla,” He said, this time in a softer tone as he crossed the room to the bed, set a gentle hand on her back.

‘Gabe?’ Carla thought, though she didn’t respond out loud, only clutched Cleo tighter. While part of her was happy to have his company, she also wondered why he was there. She hadn’t expected to see him at all, especially after he turned down her offer for a parlour date earlier, saying that he’d be busy catching up on reports all evening. They’d both already had dinner, so what else could…

‘Oh no…’ She stopped, silently groaned when she realised what it was. Of course the weather had tipped him off. He was the only other person besides her father that knew about the storm thing. She wanted to be grateful that he cared so much, but instead she was annoyed. How would she ever learn how to handle herself if he kept swooping in to rescue her? If she wanted him there, she would have either sent for him or taken the trip down to the barracks herself, just as she’d done before.

She then realised that, in all the times she’d done so, Gabe never turned her away and never judged her for the reason, whether it be a thunderstorm, nightmare or stomach-ache. Instead, he let her in and did his best to make her feel comfortable regardless of the ailment. Which is exactly what he wanted to do now. Except that instead of her coming to him, he found her first.

She sighed to herself, the guilt briefly making her forget the raging storm outside until a fierce thunderclap broke her thoughts. She whimpered, curled into herself even more.

“Come on, Carla,” Gabe coaxed as he carefully rubbed her back. “You can’t stay under there all night.”

“Why not?” She replied. It was safe there. She was warm and cozy and had a friend with her. Sure, she could still hear the thunder and the constant pattering of the rain against the windows, but at least she couldn’t see it or the lightning.

He smiled as an idea came to mind, teased, “Because if you do, I won’t get to see your pretty eyes.”

“You look at them all the time.”

“Doesn’t mean I get tired of it.”

Unable to help it, she quietly giggled at his teasing, figured that, at the very least, she owed him some kind of appearance for coming all this way.

Gabe went to speak again, stopping when he saw and heard shuffling along with the soft jingle of a bell as Carla shifted around and finally pulled the blanket back and off of her head, the smile returning at the thought that she looked like a ruffled little kitten coming out to explore the world after a nap.  

“There’s my Cutie!” He said with a laugh, eyes soon falling on the ‘actual kitten’ still tucked in her arms who also had her head sticking out. “Hi, Cleo.”

“What do you want?” She asked and moved to sit up, the blanket still around her shoulders.

He reached over, moved a loose strand of hair out of her face, “I just came to check on you. I know how you get when the weather’s like this.”

She frowned, “Not that I’m ungrateful, but I don’t need checking, Gabe. I’m not a baby.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. Even after all this time she still had trouble with being seen as vulnerable. And he didn’t blame her. From an outside perspective it could be seen as “just a silly fear”, but for her it was very real. “I know you’re not a baby. But you are my Cutie. And you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.”

“No I’m not,” She retorted, crossed her arms.

He chuckled, pointed out, “Carla, you’re hiding under the blanket with your kitty.”

“Well… Um…” Realising she was caught, her eyes widened slightly before shifting around and finally settling on Cleo. “That’s because Cleo is scared,” She argued, holding the cat closer to her chest.

Gabe smiled, replied, “And so is her owner.”

Immediately, her eyes shifted downward, that same wave of shame she felt when he first entered the room coming back over her. “Yeah, but…” She started and then stopped, took a minute to think over what she wanted to say as her hands idly ran over Cleo’s back.

“But?” Gabe pressed.

She sighed, admitted, “I shouldn’t be scared. I know that I’m safe here. Far safer than I ever was during some of those roadside stops with Papa. And yet –”

“Carla,” He started, slipping a careful finger under her chin. “Look at me.”

She did, the warm, comforting look in his eyes reassuring her as he continued.

“I get how you feel. Fears like this aren’t exactly rational. I mean, look at me. I’ve taken on all sorts of evildoers and yet, I’m terrified by something as small and harmless as a gecko.”

A brief giggle escaped Carla’s lips at the reference as she recalled the day she learned about his fear during a brief weekend getaway to Ophidian Island with their friends and how silly it seemed at the time. But, despite thinking it was silly, she also reassured him that she didn’t think any less of him for it.

“But even if I wasn’t, that’s not the point. The point is that it’s okay to be scared. Even if the reason might seem silly to others, it’s real to you and the people who care about you,” He finished, sliding the finger he hand on her chin upward until he was cupping her cheek.

Carla didn’t respond, not right away, only closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. When she opened them again, he was still there giving her that same reassuring look. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even think of a word, she was interrupted by yet another thunderclap accompanied by a harsh streak of lightning that instead of speaking, had her gasping as she pulled the blanket back over her head and resumed “kitten mode.”

“Come here,” Gabe encouraged, returning his hand to her back and waiting while she first peeked out, looking from him to Cleo and back again before carefully setting the cat aside and then crawling across the bed and over to him. He gave her a moment to settle herself across his lap, her arms coming to wrap around his neck while his own hands found their places, one settling on her back and the other on top of her leg.

She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder and let out a breathy sigh, eyes fluttering closed as his hand moved up and down her back. She felt stupid for being stubborn initially. Gabe was right. It was not only okay for her to be frightened; it was also safe for her to let him know.

He smiled at the way she easily settled into him, grateful that he was able to make her feel better, even for a little bit. All he wanted was for her to feel safe and loved, especially during times like this. Storms often left her feeling lonely, helpless, and distressed, things that she’d felt more than enough times in her life and that, if he had his way, she wouldn’t feel again. Unfortunately, he knew that his ability to make that happen was limited. Life wasn’t exactly the most predictable foe. But he would still try his best whenever he could.

The thought driving a wave of protectiveness through him, he tightened his hold on her, hoping to convey through his touch that he was there for her. Then, his heart leapt as another deafening thunderclap boomed overhead, accompanied by a particularly bright flash that lit up the whole room and drew a startled yelp from Carla as she clung even more tightly to him, burrowing her head further into his shoulder.

“I know,” He soothed, his hand resuming its up-and-down motions on her back while the other shifted, fingers brushing against the black ruffle on her dress. He was then suddenly aware of the fact that Carla was still in her daytime dress. He threw a quick glance to the clock, which told him that it was past her usual bath time. On any other night, she would either be in the bath or already in her nightclothes and curled up with a book or looking over her studies. The thought reminded him of how those long baths relaxed her and sparked an idea in his mind.

“I have an idea,” He said, getting a curious look in response once Carla lifted her head. “Why don’t I set you a bath? Something perfume-y with extra bubbles.”

Carla raised an eyebrow. “Why? Do I smell or something?”

“What? No! Of course not. I just thought it might relax you,” He explained, continued with an inviting look in his eyes, “When the door is closed the bathroom is relatively quiet. We could draw the drapes and set you up one of those ‘cheesy’ candlelight baths like in your books.”

Carla giggled at his last comment, added, “Only if there’s rose petals too.”

“Well, I can’t make any promises on that front.”

She faked a sigh, said as she slid off of his lap, “I guess I’ll have to settle for a rose scent instead.”

He chuckled, promised as he crossed the room, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She giggled again, moved to shut the curtains again before stepping over to her armoire to pull and set aside both her usual nightgown and bathrobe. She then turned her attention to the drawer at the bottom and opened it, taking a minute to rifle through its contents before finding his pyjamas. He hadn’t said anything about staying, but she hoped he would. No one could say how long the storm would last and if it ended up going through the night, she would prefer to not sleep alone.

Once both sets of clothing were laid out on the bed, Carla moved onto her vanity and winced when she saw how static from the blanket had mussed her hair.

“Good thing I’m done for the night,” She muttered to herself as she started to take down and brush out her hair, shivering halfway through when a smaller thunderclap sounded. She hoped the bath would do some good in distracting her for a bit. Warm, lustred water and perfumed bubbles sounded more than inviting and far better than huddling under blankets like a child. She stood, gave a delicate sigh at the thought of sliding into the water and letting it take over her body and her fears as she tossed aside and traded her clothes for her robe, finishing with the tie just as Gabe called her into the bathroom.

Once she crossed the doorway, she let out a small gasp. He’d not only put out the tea candles like she suggested, but rearranged some of her flowers around them, even tossing a few into the water.

“You like?” Gabe asked, a teasing hint in both his voice and gaze.

“I do,” Carla replied, her smile curving into a smirk as she stepped over to him, slid her hands around his neck. “But… I’d like it even more if you’d stay.”

Gabe blinked. It wasn’t an unfair request. Nor an unexpected one. He’d had a feeling that she would ask him to join her given the current weather situation. And since resolving to see her, he hadn’t planned on going back to work. Especially not after seeing how badly this particular storm had frightened her.

“Come on, Gabe,” She said, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. “Join me?”  She encouraged and tilted her head slightly, the eager yet pleading look in her eyes slowly working its magic.

He met her gaze, thinking just how sincere she looked. Somehow, he knew that, more than anything, she wanted his company. The bath was an afterthought. Sure, it would be nice to sit back and relax with her while the water worked its own magic on them, but the best part would be the two of them just being together and enjoying each other’s company.

“Of course,” He finally agreed, lips turning up into the smallest of smiles at the way her eyes lit up in response.

She didn’t say anything, only leaned up to touch her lips to his in a soft kiss that she hoped conveyed her appreciation for him, what he’d already done for her that night and how happy she was that he was willing to stay.

***

Sometime later, once they were both properly bathed, dried, and dressed, they returned to the bed, this time to snuggle up under the covers, each one holding a hand onto the book Carla finally picked up off the floor.

Gabe turned a page at her nod, asked, “So, let me get this straight… Iduna – ” “Audrina,” She corrected him with a huff, shifting her free arm and Cleo over slightly.

“Right. Audrina,” He nodded to himself, continued, “So, Audrina is in love with this guy she only knows through letters?”  

Carla shrugged. “Yes and no. She knows Nathaniel. He’s a family friend. But she doesn’t know that he’s the one writing the letters.”

“Oookay. And where does this Marcelo guy fit in?”

“He’s the prince that’s been chasing Audrina since childhood. And it would be a great marriage if she picked him, but she’s not so sure. Her aunt, however, is. And she’s going to do everything she can to get her daughter into his good graces instead, including humiliating her niece.”

“Huh. I guess these books are a little more complicated than I thought,” Gabe mused, absentmindedly playing with the ruffle on the end of her sleeve.

She carefully pulled the book out of his hand, marked the page before handing it back. “And what did you think?” She asked, looking up at him with a smirk as if she already knew what he was going to say.

Knowing what she wanted, Gabe took the book, said as he set it on the nightstand to his right, “That they were all about torrid displays of fantasy with bits of plot sprinkled in to make it feel like more than cheap smut.”

It wasn’t exactly the answer she was expecting, but close enough. She had figured he would say they were all cheap smut. She shifted again, moved to wrap her arm around him so she could snuggle in closer. “I guess that’s fair,” She admitted. “There are romance novels like that. This just isn’t one.”

“Oh?” He said, lips curving into a teasing smile, “Any I should know about?”

“Like I’d tell you,” She teased back, nestled her head against his chest.

A playful chuckle escaped his lips, his smile still in place as he moved his hand to run it over her hair. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

She playfully swatted his arm and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, earned another laugh from him in response as he continued stroking her hair, his teasing smile melting into a warm, reassuring one.

Another thunderclap sounded overhead, making Carla’s heart jump. She didn’t flinch, however, only tightened her hold on both Cleo and Gabe as he hugged her, her heart slowly settling as her eyes did, his warmth and the soft beating of his heart against her ear helping to lull her to sleep.

He kissed her head, reached over to shut off the lamp on the nightstand. He then adjusted first her blanket and then his as he settled down with her, comfort and peace claiming them both for the night despite the raging storm outside.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 8

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 8 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 8/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - I had a hard deciding where to cut this chapter off.]

The Doctor and Elise landed on something squishy and nasty smelling. Amy landed next to them as the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

Elise did the same and pressed the button. It made a buzzing noise just like the Doctor’s only the tip of his was green and hers was yellow.

The Doctor smiled seeing the tiny Timelord copy him. “High speed air cannon. Lousy way to travel”, he told Amy.

“Where are we?”

“Six hundred feet down, twenty miles laterally, puts us at the heart of the ship. I'd say Lancashire. What's this then, a cave? Can't be a cave. Looks like a cave”.

Amy flung some of the stuff at the Doctor. “It's a rubbish dump, and it's minging!”

“Yes, but only food refuse. Organic, coming through feeder tubes from all over the ship”.

“The floor's all squidgy, like a water bed”.

Elise noticed it too and bounced lightly.

“But feeding what, though?” the Doctor asked.

“It's sort of rubbery, feel it. Wet and slimy”, Amy told him.

There was a growl or a groan and the Doctor and Elise realized where they were.

Elise tugged on the Doctor’s jacket and pointed at her tongue.

“Right you are, Elise. Amy, it's not a floor, it's a… So…” the Doctor said.

“It's a what?” Amy asked.

“The next word is kind of a scary word. You probably want to take a moment, get yourself in a calm place. Go omm”.

“Omm…”

“It's a tongue”.

“A tongue?”

“A tongue. A great big tongue”.

“This is a mouth. This whole place is a mouth? We're in a mouth?”

“Yes, yes, yes. But on the plus side, roomy”.

“How do we get out?”

The Doctor started scanning with his screwdriver. “How big is this beastie? It's gorgeous. Blimey, if this is just the mouth, I'd love to see the stomach”.

The creature grumbled.

“Though not right now”, the Doctor added.

“Doctor, how do we get out?” Amy asked him.

“Okay, it's being fed through surgically implanted feeder tubes, so the normal entrance is…closed for business”.

Behind them was a wall of large teeth.

“We could try, though”, Amy said.

“No, stop, don't move”, he told her as the floor started vibrating, “Too late. It's started”.

“What has?”

“Swallow reflex”. The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the mouth.

“What are you doing?” Amy asked him.

“I'm vibrating the chemo-receptors”.

“Chemo-what?”

“The eject button”.

“How does a mouth have an eject button?”

“Think about it!”

Elise’s eyes went wide as she noticed a wave of vomit coming towards them.

The Doctor grabbed her and held her close to his chest. “Right, then. This isn't going to be big on dignity. Geronimo!”

Amy screamed as it got closer to them.

They eventually landed in an overflow pipe.

Elise coughed as the Doctor set her down. She wobbled on her feet, the smell making her feel a bit dizzy.

He reached out and grabbed her to keep her from falling over. “Woah, easy there”.

Amy sat up next to her.

“There's nothing broken, there's no sign of concussion and yes, you are covered in sick”, the Doctor told her.

“Where are we?”

The Doctor started to sonic the controls next to the door. “Overspill pipe, at a guess”.

“Oh, God, it stinks”.

“Oh, that's not the pipe”.

“Oh”.

Amy took a moment to sniff her nightie. “Phew. Can we get out?”

“One door, one door switch, one condition. We forget everything we saw. Look familiar?”

A Forget button lit up.

“That's the carrot. Ooo, here's the stick”.

Two Smiler booths lit up.

“There's a creature living in the heart of this ship. What's it doing there?” the Doctor asked.

The Smilers’ heads turned. They now had frowns on their faces.

“No, that's not going to work on me, so come on. Big old beast below decks, and everyone who protests gets shoved down its throat. That how it works?”

The heads turned again with scowls on their faces this time.

Elise grabbed the Doctor’s hand in fear. She did not like those machines.

“Oh, stop it”, the Doctor told them, “I'm not leaving and I'm not forgetting, and what are you fellows going to do about it? Stick out your tongues, huh?”

The booths opened up and the Smilers stepped out.

“Doctor?” Amy asked.

Liz 10 appeared behind them and shot the Smilers.

“Look who it is. You look a lot better without your mask”, the Doctor told her.

“You must be Amy. Liz. Liz 10”.

Amy shook her hand. “Hi”.

“Yuck. Lovely hair, Amy. Shame about the sick”.

The little girl Mandy entered the tunnel.

“You know Mandy, yeah? She's very brave”, Liz told them.

“How did you find us?” the Doctor asked her.

“Stuck my gizmo on you”. She tossed the Doctor a tracking device. “Been listening in. Nice moves on the hurl escape. So, what's the big fella doing here?”

“You're over sixteen, you've voted. Whatever this is, you've chosen to forget about it”.

“No. Never forgot, never voted, not technically a British subject”.

“Then who and what are you, and how do you know me?”

“You're a bit hard to miss, love. Mysterious stranger, M O consistent with higher alien intelligence, hair of an idiot”.

The Doctor tried to run a hand through his hair, forgetting that it was sticking to his scalp because of the sick. Elise patted his hand, telling him in her own way that she liked his hair.

“I've been brought up on the stories. My whole family was”, Liz told him.

“Your family?”

The Smilers started to move.

“They're repairing. Doesn't take them long. Let's move”. Liz led them through a basement as she explained how she knew the Doctor. “The Doctor. Old drinking buddy of Henry Twelve. Tea and scones with Liz Two. Vicky was a bit on the fence about you, weren't she? Knighted and exiled you on the same day. And so much for the Virgin Queen, you bad, bad boy”.

The Doctor looked down at Elise, who was oblivious to what Liz 10 was insinuating. “Liz Ten…”

“Liz Ten, yeah. Elizabeth the Tenth. And down!” She turned around and gave them just enough time to duck before she shot the Smilers again. “I'm the bloody Queen, mate. Basically, I rule”.

They entered a corridor and the Doctor stopped to observe the tentacles banging on the bars.

“There's a high-speed Vator through there. Oh, yeah. There's these things. Any ideas?” Liz 10 asked.

“Doctor, I saw one of these up top. There was a hole in the road, like it had burst through like a root”, Amy told him.

“Exactly like a root. It's all one creature, the same one we were inside, reaching out. It must be growing through the mechanisms of the entire ship”.

“What, like an infestation? Someone's helping it. Feeding it. Feeding my subjects to it. Come on. Got to keep moving”, Liz 10 said walking off.

Mandy followed after her, leaving the Doctor, Elise, and Amy.

Elise’s eyes filled with tears as she watched the tentacles. She reached out to touch them, but her arm was too short. Did they know what they were doing to the poor creature? Why couldn’t they hear it?

“Doctor? Elise?” Amy asked.

“Oh, Amy. We should never have come here”. The Doctor gently pulled Elise away from the bars. “Come along, Elise”.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They followed Liz 10 to her state rooms, where they cleaned up.

There were glasses of water all over her floor.

“Why all the glasses?” the Doctor asked her.

“To remind me every single day that my government is up to something, and it's my duty to find out what”.

The Doctor picked up her mask. “A queen going undercover to investigate her own kingdom?”

“Secrets are being kept from me. I don't have a choice. Ten years I've been at this. My entire reign. And you've achieved more in one afternoon”.

“How old were you when you came to the throne?”

“Forty. Why?”

“What, you're fifty now?” Amy asked, “No way”.

“Yeah, they slowed my body clock. Keeps me looking like the stamps”, Liz 10 explained.

“And you always wear this in public?” the Doctor asked.

“Undercover's not easy when you're me. The autographs, the bunting”. “Air-balanced porcelain. Stays on by itself, because it's perfectly sculpted to your face”.

“Yeah? So what?”

“Oh, Liz. So everything”.

The door opened and a man entered, along with a group of people in black robes.

“What are you doing? How dare you come in here!” Liz 10 told them.

“Ma'am, you have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK. You will come with us now”, the leader said.

“Why would I do that?”

The man’s head turned as he became a Scowler.

Elise jumped back and hid behind the Doctor.

“How can they be Smilers?” Amy asked.

“Half Smiler, half human”, the Doctor explained.

“Whatever you creatures are, I am still your queen. On whose authority is this done?” Liz 10 asked them.

“The highest authority, Ma'am”, the man said.

“I am the highest authority”.

“Yes, ma'am. You must go now, Ma'am”.

“Where?”

“The Tower, Ma'am”.

[frauleinjustice]

Saiouma Fic: Christmas Eve Date!

Super original title, I know. Anyways! Just wanted to write something cute starring my boys! A small summary: the boys spend Christmas Eve together for their first date, so it’s of course gotta be extra cute and soft, hehe. Thanks to anyone who takes the time to want to give it a read! And if you celebrate it, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! ☆

It had been a week since Shuichi and Kokichi started dating. The detective.... still couldn't believe it, honestly. The boy he struggled so hard to understand at times, just couldn't figure out, sometimes got impatient or annoyed with him... was now the boy he fell for. 

Though Kokichi was still honestly as surprised, too. A boy who wore many different masks, hid behind so many walls... yet this shy, meek detective crashed through many of them. He confused the supreme leader at times, caught him off guard... and interested him. He would jokingly tell the detective he loves him sometimes, bu even unexpected to him: he truly did end up falling for him.

Tonight, they were going to spend Christmas Eve together, for their first date. They both were admittedly nervous over the fact, but an excited kind of nervous., since Shuichi proposed the idea of spending time together tonight. He was going to make sure it'll be an enjoyable night for Kokichi.

 Right now, he was standing in the main square, waiting for Kokichi to arrive. Their meetup time was 7:30pm, Shuichi arriving a few minutes earlier. His eyes look up towards the giant illuminated Christmas tree in the center, thinking it looks even prettier as the snow slowly falls.  

Several minutes later, a certain someone spots Shuichi. He would've just went up to him like normal, but instead: he starts tiptoeing towards him from behind, a flash of that cheeky smile visible from under his scarf. Shuichi was still spacing out a bit while he looks at the tree, so he wasn't aware of Kokichi's presence. Once he was close enough, Kokichi reaches his arms up, and... "Ha!!"

"Aiiiee?!" ...Places his cold hands on Shuichi's neck, making the boy jump with a yelp. "K-Kokichi-!" He quickly turns around, greeted by the laughing boy.

"Hahaha! You always make the funniest sounds! Shuichi~!" He chimes, placing his hands back into his pockets. "What were you even staring off into space about, anyway? I've been waiting for you to notice me for the past 20 minutes, ya knoooow."

"H-Huh? 20 minutes...? But I didn't even see you..."

"That's right! 20 minutes! I was standing right over there, waiting for you to notice me, Shuichi... how could you be so cruel...? But that's a lie! I just got here."

"O-Oh... geez, you had me worried for a second..." He gives Kokichi's nose a poke, emitting a giggle from him. "And where are your gloves? Your hands were very cold..."

"Hm? What do ya mean? They're very warm!" Which was, of course: a very obvious lie. He had actually forgot them when he was heading out the house, but he wasn't about to admit that. He shows his cold hands to Shuichi, as if that was going to prove it. "See? I don't need gloves."

"You're obviously lying. Here, let me..." A sigh, Shuichi cups Kokichi's hands in his. He then proceeds to blow air on them to help warm them up.

"Ah..." Kokichi blinks, honestly not expecting he was going to do that, even if a part of him admittedly was hoping for it. The more Shuichi blew his breath on his hands, the warmer they became.. along with his cheeks, which heated up in turn.

Once he was done, he rubs small circles in the back of Kokichi's hands. "There.. I hope that helped." 

"Sh...Shuichi's so cheesy..." He whines, blushing. Now he was thankful his scarf covers most of his face. "Y...Yeah, thanks... my hands really do feel warmer, now. Now come onnn, let's get starteddd..." And before Shuichi could have time to notice, Kokichi runs over to get behind him and start pushing on his back.

"W-Woah, okay-!" Shuichi stumbles a bit forward, until Kokichi goes to start walking alongside him. But even aside from that, Kokichi was eager to start their date. He never spent Christmas Eve with someone romantically like this, before... even if it didn't show, he was still very nervous about the thought. But he told himself... it'll be fine. No need to overthink, or think so hard: just relax himself for once... and enjoy tonight with Shuichi.

Shiba Park was holding a Christmas market in its area, which they were heading to. A German-influenced kind of event, some of the foods and drinks were traditional German and holiday kinds, along with the set up of the booths looking like an old village. It sold a variety of Christmas-themed items such as ornaments, decorations, toys, nutcracker dolls, cuckoo clocks, etc. Even as they just look around, they curiously examine the different things the booths were selling, Kokichi tugging on Shuichi's hand whenever he wanted to drag him to the next booth that caught his interest. Not that the detective minded at all: he found it honestly adorable to see his boyfriend so excited like this. "Ohh, Shuichi, look!!"

"Ah?" Kokichi then points to the most notable attraction in the market: the giant Christmas pyramid in the center. "Ahh...!" As they walk closer to it, they can see the different figures and dolls inside of it, along with the pyramid slowly spinning. "This looks amazing... I've never seen one up close like this, before..."

"They imported this from Germany, did you know?" Informs Kokichi, even holding a finger up as if he was lecturing him. "I have bases set up all over the world, as you already know. My subordinates that reside in Germany... I ordered them to create this and ship it here! So you have only us to thank for such excellent craftsmanship~!"

Shuichi just slumps his shoulders. "I-Is that a lie..."

"Who knows? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't!" He smiles cheekily. "Though it isn't a lie that it's from Germany. But it's okay, Shuichi: even if you're dumb, your extra smart boyfriend will educate you on lots of things.... nishishi, get your mind out of the gutter!" Cackles Kokichi, jabbing his finger in Shuichi's side.

"I-I didn't even say anything!! A-And you're the one saying weird things! ANYWAY-" He pouts, blushing. "Th-Thank you for the fun fact, this does look very well made.... Ah, let me take a picture of it, actually." Getting out his phone, Shuichi steps back a bit so he could get several pictures of the pyramid. Or at least; he would've gotten clearer ones, if Kokichi wasn't making him laugh by constantly cutting into the shots with ridiculous faces and poses. "G-Get out of the shot, Kokichi, hahahah!"

"Never! Bask in my glory, nishishi!!" Shuichi laughing was only making Kokichi laugh even more. He was glad Shuichi didn't get annoyed by him doing that. It wasn't often he saw the detective actually crack up, he feels. It sounded so nice to hear... especially because he was the one making him laugh. He was starting to see those little reminders of what made him fall for the other in the first place.

Though he eventually stopped playing around so that Shuichi could get clear pictures of the pyramid, and snap some shots of the booths as well. Once he was done, he puts his phone away. "There we go... alright, where to visit next... oh!" Shuichi gestures over to one of the booths selling desserts and hot drinks. "How about we enjoy a little treat? A lot of the food stalls were selling their drinks in their custom mugs, too... I want to buy one!"

"Awwright!" Kokichi beams, shaking his fists excitedly. "Let's go, let's go!!" Kokichi grabs Shuichi's hand to drag him over there. Different flavors of hot chocolate, coffee, and cider were the drinks that were being sold, along with different sweets, most notably being slices of strawberry shortcake: or ‘Christmas Cake’, rather. Kokichi first looks at the different mugs one could buy to keep after they finish their drink. Snowman mugs and gingerbread mugs were some of the types they were selling. "I want... hot chocolate in a gingerbread mug! With lotsa whipped cream and marshmallows aaand a gingerbread cookie, too! Oh, and let's eat some Christmas cake together, too!! Pwetty pwease, Shuichi~?" He looks up at Shuichi with a 'cutesy, innocent' expression.

"W-Well if it's what you want, of course I don't mind buying that for you! Let's see what I'll get..." Shuichi orders what Kokichi wants, and then orders himself peppermint hot chocolate in a snowman mug, along with two slices of Christmas cake for them both. They go to one of the tables so they could enjoy their stuff. He gives a soft exhale as the hot choclate warms his body. "This tastes so good... I like drinking hot chocolate when I'm cold. And it goes really well with the cake..."

"Right?!" Kokichi gives a small hum feeling the hot mug not only warm his hands, but the hot chocolate also warming up his body, too. "Shuichi gets it! And the cookie I got with my drink is really tasty. You should've got one, too, Shuichi! But since I'm feeling generouuus...." Kokichi picks up the cookie and breaks off a piece. He holds it up to Shuichi's mouth. "Here! Say 'ahhh~!'"

"E-Ehh?? Th-That's..." Shuichi shifts his eyes a bit, seeing if anyone was looking. It'd be a little embarrassing doing that in public... but nonetheless, slowly goes to open his mouth. "A...Ahh...."

"Good boy!" He snickers, placing the cookie in Shuichi's mouth. And before Shuichi could stand back up straight, Kokichi leans up to press a kiss to Shuichi's cheek. His lips were warm from drinking the hot chocolate, so he teases: "Heated kisses!"

"Kokifchiimm...." He mumbles, feeling the heat to his cheeks rise even more. He finishes the cookie piece, sips more of his chocolate... before leaning in to place a quick kiss to his lips. "A-A heated kiss for you, too...!"

"Ah!!" Whining, Kokichi starts pummeling Shuichi's chest, his own face a deeper shade of red from feeling embarrassed. "N-No fair! Cheater!!"

"Hehehe....w-well that's what you get for teasing me! So it's payback! That, and... you look really cute when you blush...."

"Hmph!!" Kokichi reaches up to tug on the drawstrings of Shuichi's coat, forcing the hood to close up real tight. Hearing Shuichi make incomprehensible mumbles made him start laughing, distracted from how flustered his boyfriend was making him for just a second. "You're so silly, Shuichi..." Yet the way he said that was a tone full of genuine warmth and fondness: a kind rare to hear from the supreme leader.

Once they finished their drinks and desserts, they place their respective mugs in their bags. It was hard to really want to buy anything, since a lot of items there were admittedly very pricey... but in the end, they bought themselves little keychains of gingerbread houses, so they were satisfied. After they were done at the market, they walk down the city streets, admiring the illuminated trees. And Tokyo Tower in the distance, also being illuminated: looked really pretty as well...

"Hey, Shuichi: I want to show you something! It's all the way in Shinjuku: Terrace City, specifically!!"

"Oh...?" He gives a curious head tilt. "Is something happening down there, too?" "Yesiree! But it's a sur~prise until we get there!" Kokichi takes out his phone to check the train schedules. "The next train to Shinjuku will be here in 15 minutes! The station's up ahead, riiight? So come on! Fuuuull charge!!!" And before Shuichi can even respond, Kokichi grabs his hand and starts sprinting.

"Uwah-!!" And Shuichi's quickly running as well so he won't trip. How many times by now has he been dragged around like a rag doll, he jokingly wonders to himself? Though he really was curious to see what Kokichi wanted to surprise him with...

What Kokichi wanted to show him was the winter illuminations in Terrace City. Along the pathways and streets were a plethora of illuminated trees, lamps, buildings... all of a variety of colors. And as Kokichi brings Shuichi along one of the walkways, gives a closer look at the decorated trees and bushes, light decorations placed inside of the trees as well. The mixtures of yellows, whites, blues, and purples of the Christmas lights, paired with the night sky and falling snow... almost made the walk along the pathway feel magical. He looks up at Shuichi, giggling under his breath to see how amazed he looked. "Really pretty, right? That's why I wanted to show you!"

"Yes, it's...." His eyes continue to scan the illuminations, stopping for a moment to admire them some more. "Really pretty...I love it..."

"Nishishi..." Kokichi goes to stand alongside him, cupping Shuichi's hand in his. "...." For a moment, he's silently admiring the sight as well before he looks up towards him and asks: "....Is Shuichi having fun tonight? You are, right...?" The clear indication of nervousness in his tone, he can't hide. He doesn't hide... 

Shuichi can feel him grip his hand a bit tighter from tension. "Ah?" Shuichi blinks in surprise, looking down at him. Feeling Kokichi squeeze his hand tighter like that for a moment: he could tell he was nervous. "Kokichi..." Giving him a warm smile, Shuichi nods his head. "Yes. I've been having a lot of fun tonight, thanks to you. I... hope you have been, too, Kokichi..." For a second, he pauses, until his other hand slowly goes up to cup Kokichi's cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb.

"........." Feeling his cheeks heat up, Kokichi nuzzles Shuichi's hand. "...Good. I'm glad. Since: yeah. I'm having fun, too. But I knew I would: since it's with you, Shuichi..." He softly mumbles, looking up at Shuichi with genuine warmth in his eyes and tone. Knowing Shuichi was having a fun time tonight, just like he was: it made him relieved, and happy...

"Kokichi..." The look Kokichi gives him, and knowing he was also having fun: it made his heart feel warm. It made him feel happier and happier that he decided to bring Kokichi out, tonight.

Being soft like this with someone, honest and vulnerable like this... it was normally such a scary thought. It still is, yet: when it came to Shuichi, it didn't feel as bad. The detective truly was special in a lot of ways. But it was still embarrassing, so it didn't take long for that big, bright smile to plaster right back onto Kokichi's face. "Anywaaaay~! It's time for the final event: exchanging gifts! Thooough I'd rather us do it somewhere where no nosy wosies can see, so..." And without warning, Kokichi takes a step back, and... makes a run for it, speeding down the walkway. "Catch me, catch me, Detective~!"

"Ah?! W-Wait! Kokichi-!!" Shuichi hurries to run after him, confused as to where the cackling boy was even trying to go. "Sh...Sheesh....this boy..." It wasn't the first time he's had to chase him for whatever reason. Even he couldn't help but crack a smile, for once not caring if they looked ridiculous running down the streets, making sure to dodge people they fly past.

When he sometimes looked back to see if Shuichi was still following and saw him smiling, it made his own smile widen even more.  "Nishishi! Shuichi's been getting better at keeping up with me!" Eventually, a hill comes into their distance. Kokichi begins to run up it, ignoring the soreness in his legs from running nonstop. It was a steep hill, but once one gets up there.... it gave them a great view of the cityscape below. As he slowly comes to a stop, he takes a moment to catch his breath before saying: "H...Here we are!"

Shuichi slowly follows after, looking more tired than he did. He pants heavily, hands placed on his knees as he catches his breath. "M...My legs... sore..." "Come on!" Kokichi sits down, patting the seat next to him. "Sit, sit!" Not only so they could rest their legs, but to enjoy the view for a moment as well. Once Shuichi sat down, Kokichi leans against him. "I like this hill. It gives you such a great view of the city, don't ya think? And I can exclaim to the whole world who the supreme leader of evil is!!"

"Ahaha... yes, I'm sure you can. But yeah, the view is very beautiful..." The natural city lights, paired with the Christmas lights, made the illuminated city look even prettier at night. "I can see why you wanted to come up here."

"Yep! And nooow..." Sitting up straight, Kokichi takes his bookbag off his shoulders. "Gift exchanging tiiime~! A special gift from Ouma Kokichi, himself: so you're guaranteed to love it!" At least: he hopes he will. The store he retrieved this present from was one far away, and he was lucky to even get one before it ran out of stock. He felt that Shuichi might love something like that.... he hopes he's right. The nervous pounding in his chest grows when he takes the wrapped gift out. It was a medium-sized gift box, wrapped in colorful polka dot-patterned wrapping paper and a striped purple bow. The wrapping was admittedly...not great at all, which Kokichi hopes Shuichi doesn't point out, nor mind. It still looked like he tried his best to do it, though. "Here! You go first!"

"O-Okay..." Shuichi takes the present into his hand. He doesn't comment on the wrapping, since he didn't care if it wasn't perfect. He unties the ribbon before unwrapping the present. Once he opens the lid of the gift box, he would see a stuffed teddy bear inside. "...!" The teddy bear has a black hat on its head, along with wearing a white shirt, black vest, and striped bow. On the center of its bowtie is a 'brooch', which is actually a button. "Ah...?" Shuichi looks at Kokichi for a  moment. He gives a nod, silently telling him to go ahead and press it. When Shuichi goes to do so, a melody starts playing. "O...Oh...!"

In truth, the teddy bear had a music box stuffed inside it. The tune it played had soothing, almost jazzy like beat to it. Like something that would play in the background of a cafe, hence the teddy bear's barista-like outfit. Kokichi studies Shuichi's reaction with an unreadable expression as they listen to the tune. Seeing Shuichi look practically mesmerized by the gift couldn't help but make a soft giggle leave him. He was scared it'd be a bad or underwhelming reaction, but: it ended up being much better than he expected. "Nishishi~! You love it that much?"

Once the music ended, Shuichi still looks in awe before snapping out of it and nodding his head vigorously. "Y...Yes!!! I-I love it so much, Kokichi! The teddy bear looks so cute!! And..." He holds it close to his chest. "...The music box sounds so pretty. I promise to take great care of it... ah, now for your gift-!" Carefully placing the teddy bear down next to him, Shuichi goes inside his bag to take out Kokichi's gift. The wrapping was neat, having a pattern of stars and a white bow. The size of the gift box was a bit smaller than Kokichi's, but all the same, hopes he'll love his gift, too. He hands it to him, saying: "H...Here you go..."

Almost too eagerly, Kokichi takes the gift in his hands. "Huhuhu... let's see what the daring detective got me!! If it's too lame... I might have to kill him..." Though he was only teasing, expecting he will love whatever is inside. And when he tears away the wrapping paper, opening up the lid... "!!!!!!!!" His eyes widen. Taking out the gift, he could see it was a snowglobe. But not only that: the inside had a design of an organization building. On the 'grounds' of the building were purple-and-black dice cubes. It also had colorful garlands, some of the snow made to look like confetti, and: on the base of the snow globe, had the letters 'DICE' written on it. "DICE..."

"Heheh... I had this custom made. I wanted to base it off your organization...! Well: not what I know what the actual building really looks like, only the name of your organization... and the extra stuff was to give it a 'circus' touch to it, since you love playing pranks and mischievous... and the dice blocks for, well: obvious reasons, hehe... g-go on: give it a shake!"

Once he does give it a shake, Kokichi's excitedly shifting in place when he sees the snow and confetti slowly fall inside of the globe, along with the dice blocks bouncing around in there. Needless to say, he loved it. Very much. "Shuichi...." Kokichi places the snow globe down... before lunging at Shuichi, glomping him down in a hug. "...I love it!! You truly do know me so well, nishishi~! It perfectly captures the aura of my organization!!!"

"Woah...!" He gave a small yelp when Kokichi glomped him down, laughing before wrapping his arms around him. "Ah, well I'm glad you love it...!  I just... wanted to give you something special, like you gave me. I had... so much fun with you, tonight. My first date...with my boyfriend...went so well. I'm so happy...!" "Nishishi... Shuichi's so cute..." His hands gently cup the detective's face, stroking his cheeks gently with his thumbs. "...I had the time of my life, too! You amazed this supreme leader lots, so you get to live for another day! Really though.... I'm glad I spent tonight with you, Shuichi. And that....you're my boyfriend. That's not a lie..."

"Ahh....Kokichi...." The blush on Shuichi's face darkens, giggling as he starts snuggling him softly. "Y...You know, th-the date doesn't have to end, now! We can... go back to my house and spend some more time there. Maybe watch a movie with some hot drinks, in comfy sweaters...and then cuddle in bed... i-if you'd like to spend the night. I'd love that, at least..."

"...Passing up a chance to spend more time with and cuddle my Shumai? Yeah, right!! So, I accept! I'm gonna steal all your sweaters and your pajamas! And I won't give them back, too!"

"Hehehe... w-well I won't complain." They nuzzles their foreheads sofly together. And for a moment... they're quietly staring at each other. The amount of love and adoration in Shuichi's eyes as he stares up at Kokichi... only he could ever get such a look. And the special kind of warmth and softness in Kokichi's: was one only for Shuichi's eyes. "...I love you, Kokichi. I love you so much..." "Shuichi..." Feeling his own cheeks turn back,  he softly whispers: "...I love you, too. Lots! Since my beloved Shumai took me on such a great date... I'll shower him in all the cuddles and kisses!!!"

"Ahaha.... I'd love that a lot, yes." They give each other one more stare... before Kokichi leans his head in closer, planting a soft kiss to Shuichi's lips. And even once it's over, he plants another, after another, after another on him. The detectives gives a content hum at the kisses, returning each one he gives while rubbing small circles in his back, before ultimately giving him a longer, deeper kiss. For a moment, he wanted to just stay right here, continuing to hold Kokichi in his arms like this.  The way he makes the detective's heart flutter, how much he makes him feel loved and special.... he truly feels lucky to be Kokichi's boyfriend.

Though eventually, it was starting to get a bit too cold to just keep laying there, and didn't want snow to start piling on them, so: once they needed a small break from kissing so much, Kokichi gets off of him, standing up so he could extend his hand. "Let's go, shall we? Our date's not over just yet!"

"Ehehe.... yes." He grabs Kokichi's hand so he could be helped up. Once they put their presents and gift boxes back into their bags, Shuichi cups Kokichi's hand. "...Let's go home."

"Mmhm...!" And Kokichi starts running down the hill, making Shuichi have to keep up with him, the boys laughing together while they do so. They were eager to hurry and make it home, so they could continue to form what’ll be one of their happiest memories of Christmas Eve with each other.