#just a little glimpse into what his early solo shows were like
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The Kenny Loggins Band during the Celebrate Me Home tour, 1977
#i went back in time and filmed this (jk i wish ;-;)#just a little glimpse into what his early solo shows were like#the original video has no sound unfortunately but i’m so glad there’s full concert audios from this tour :’)#i would do ANYTHING to see my babygirl during this time (or any of his other older tours for that matter)#watching daddy’s back and why do people lie performed live would make me melt on the floor in front of him#honestly just seeing 1977 kenny and his lil dances would have me dead#I LOOOOVE HIM#kenny loggins#kenny loggins band#tris imboden#jon clarke#vince denham#george hawkins#ron green#mike hamilton#brian mann#my gifs
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RWRB and Man from UNCLE crossover... go! (Modern or Cold War AU!)
Hello anon, and sorry for taking forever to answer this. When you sent this ask back in last October I was in the doldrums of writing Nova, Baby, a little stuck. I'd shared some snippets previously, which might have been what inspired this ask, but I didn't want to dive into this ask knowing that I was nowhere near posting the story. Then I didn't want to answer it until I'd actually finished posting the fic so that people would have a chance to read it. Because this ask is a lot easier to contemplate when you make it a crossover between Alex and Henry as spies, rather than something like canon!
Ok, bumping UNCLE up to a modern setting and having Alex & Henry tangle with them on some mission would be fun for sure. For some reason I'm picturing the UNCLE crew as older in this situation though, like in their 40s or early 50s. They've been working together for at decade or two, been around the block quite a few times, and suddenly these two young agents show up in the middle of an operation, mucking things up. Maybe Alex has even heard rumors about an art-thief-turned-CIA-agent, but he didn't really think they were true. Also I'm amusing myself thinking about Waverly having some history with the Mountchristen family, having been British Naval Intelligence but not part MI6, so when he realizes who Henry is he's like "Oh Christ, NO." 😂 This would definitely happen sometime in the middle of the events of Nova, Baby, amongst A&H's various undescribed missions together.
I'm even more intrigued by setting this during the cold war though, which I guess makes the RWRB part an AU of an AU, lol. More thoughts below the break!
Ok, Alex is CIA, right? What if he's actually part of the extraction in Berlin? Not a big part, just one of the other agents hanging around at the safehouse later. Point is, he knows Napoleon. Not well, but he's familiar. Alex has mixed feelings about Napoleon because on one hand he's a very prolific criminal who got a pretty decent deal to get out of prison, but on the other, Sanders treats him like shit and from what little they've interacted he seems like an ok guy. This also means Alex hears about Illya and the chase through East Berlin and everything. Of course he's not part of the mission in Rome, and after that he loses track of Napoleon for a while, not knowing that he's now part of this independent spy agency, working with the very man who chased him down in East Berlin.
Ok, fast forward a few years. Alex & Henry have already been forced into a partnership. Napoleon & Illya are working together (with Gaby) for UNCLE. No one is together in any way, but safe to say there's some pining going on lol. In the midst of a mission in Bolivia, A&H end up at odds with a giant Russian agent—bad news. They didn't realize the KGB was involved (spoiler alert: they're not). It's a pretty bad misunderstanding, and thing go south VERY quickly. Then, suddenly, Napoleon Solo shows up, throwing himself in the line of fire, risking his own life to protect this Russian agent. Alex is completely befuddled. He thinks maybe Napoleon isn't CIA anymore (well, it's complicated), that he defected. It takes a while to convince him otherwise.
Turns out they've been following two different threads that lead to the same baddie, so they need to work together. Easier said than done—Illya is, as always around new people, grumpy and forbidding. Maybe Alex catches glimpses of him around Napoleon when they think no one is watching, and it's shocking (because he's secretly a giant Russian lost puppy, natch). Henry is pretty skeptical about all of this but he'll do anything for Alex (though not without complaining), so he goes along with it. Meanwhile, Alex and Napoleon kinda bond during this time. Ooh, maybe they cook together, both being really into cooking, and we get a very absurd scene of Illya and Henry both being jealous (for no good reason, of course) and trying not to show it.
More random thoughts: idk how it would happen but we definitely need Nora and Gaby to meet, because they'd get along like a house on fire. What if, in this universe, instead of playing James Bond, Arthur Fox was basically Ian Fleming? Maybe Waverly even knew him during the war!
Ok, I'm going to stop now, but thank you for the ask, anon, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get to it!
#napollya#firstprince#tmfu#rwrb#nova baby#rwrb spy au#tmfu aus#napoleon x illya#red white and royal blue#the man from uncle#the man from u.n.c.l.e.#headcanons and aus#asks and answers
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She Sold Happiness in Glass Jars
The poster read, “Happiness! Sold in Glass Jars! Call Today!” and underneath the text was a phone number.
I was walking home from a long, exhausting day of work when I caught a glimpse of the paper stapled on an old telephone pole. I took a picture of it thinking it was amusing.
I was going to show my wife once I got to our apartment, but I was caught up with chores and forgot about it—dinner, dishes, laundry, packing a snack for our daughter, putting her to bed, then putting her toys away that she’d left out in the living room—every night, it was the exact same routine.
The next day, I awoke sleeping back-to-back with my wife. I always had to get up earlier than she did for my job, so I quietly got ready for the day and headed out the door.
At work, I was updating the company’s latest expense report. Most days were similar to this one. They were basically paying me to stare at a computer for nine hours a day and input a couple numbers in to a spreadsheet. I finished my work very quickly, so I decided to head out of the office early—it also helped that it was a Friday, and a lot of people leave early at the end of the week.
On my walk back, I was thinking of what my life had become. I did this often. I always dreamed of traveling when I was younger. I wanted to drive across the country or solo-backpack across Europe. Then I met Kelsey. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Kelsey. I mean, I still do. We just don’t have that spark anymore. When you meet someone and get in a relationship, whether it’s meant to be or not, some of your personal life-plans have to be put on hold. And then that relationship turns to marriage, and then you have a baby, then you have to enroll your daughter in a preschool, then you have to get a better paying job and work more hours and blah, blah, blah.
I’m not trying to throw a pity party for myself. I’m just saying I wasn’t exactly content with where I was in my life. I wouldn’t have referred to myself as a happy person.
As I took the same route home that I did every day to work and back, I walked by the same poster I had passed the day before. I don’t know why, I really don’t, but I decided to call the number. I figured it would be some joke. Maybe someone just picks up and says, “I love you!” on the other end and hangs up. Or maybe it’s a line to a sex-worker. I had no idea what to expect.
I called. It only rang once before someone picked up.
“Hello?” a woman said.
“Uh, hi—um, I’m calling about your poster? Your ad?”
“Oh, awesome,” she said calmly, “when do you wanna pick it up?”
“Pick what up?”
“The jar…” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh, of course, um,” I realized then that I had left work early without telling Kelsey, so I could just go pick it up now and she’d be none the wiser, “what exactly is it? That your selling?”
“I just told you. It’s happiness. In a glass jar. Like the poster said. Happiness keeps best in glass jars. They’re more durable than, say, a plastic bag.”
“Um, okay. Should we meet somewhere?”
“For sure. I don’t want you to end up being a creep or something, so let’s go to a public place.”
The public place we decided on was a Starbucks parking lot a little over a mile from me.
Now, I didn’t think I was really going to be buying a jar of happiness or whatever. I was 99% sure she was going to sell me drugs. Maybe heroine would be in the jar. I remember thinking, Oh no, ‘happiness’ is probably a nickname for some street drug and I’m going to a drug deal. What if she’s a cop? Am I going to be arrested? But something inside me told me to keep walking, and so I did.
I stood outside and texted her.
Me: I’m here.
Her: Cool. Be there in a sec.
Me: What are you driving?
Her: Silver Camry.
And as her final text came through, I saw her car pull in. She took a spot not too far from where I stood. I could see there was no one else in the car, which put my kidnapping fear to rest. She opened her door and stood on the pavement, looking around until her eyes met mine. I gave her a little nod of acknowledgment. She simply responded by waving her hand, gesturing for me to come over to her car, so I did.
She was young, maybe mid-twenties, with curly, golden hair. Her skin was pale and contrasted with the all-black outfit she was wearing. I thought she looked like Glinda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz had put on the Wicked Witch’s clothes.
“Nice day out,” she said as a greeting.
“Oh, yeah it is. Hadn’t really paid attention to it.”
“You were the one that called about the jar, right?”
“Yeah, that was me.”
“Cool, well, here you go.��
She handed me a very small, glass mason-jar. It couldn’t have been more than two inches tall. Inside of it was a light. Not a light bulb—just light. It was like someone bottled up sunshine. It glowed even in the midafternoon daylight. It looked like a tiny sun, or a tiny universe existing in this little crystal-walled home. I was admiring it with no attempt to hide the awe on my face.
“Pretty rad isn’t it?”
“What—what is it?”
“You’ve asked that, like, three different times, I think. My answer is still the same. It is happiness. Happiness in a glass jar.”
“What do I do with it?”
“Keep it,” She said simply, “if you have any problems shoot me a text.”
She started to get into her car.
“Wait!” I said, “I thought you were selling this? How much is it?”
“Don’t worry, man,” she said with a smile, “you’ll pay.”
She closed her door and I stepped out of her way as she backed up, then drove off. What the hell had just happened? What was I holding? I looked down at the jar again, its radiance was simply mesmerizing. I put it in my pocket and could see its glow slightly through my pants. I began to walk home.
What was just a nice, sunny day, quickly changed into a rainy one with clouds wrapping the sky. It was not forecasted that it would rain, or else I would’ve ridden the bus or subway to work that day. I jogged home trying not to get too drenched. I finally found shelter once I made it to my apartment building.
I walked up to my door and found that my key wasn’t on my key ring anymore. Shit, I can’t believe I lost it again, I thought.
I knocked on the door and said in a somewhat loud voice, “Hey babe it’s me, I don’t know what happened to my key.” I heard the door being unlocked from the other side.
When the door opened, I was greeted by a large, heavy-set man with greasy hair and unkempt goatee, he said, “I think you got the wrong door, bud.”
“Oh!” I said, disoriented, “my bad, sorry, have a good one.”
He let out a chuckle as he closed the door.
Apartment number 33.
I know that was my apartment. I know it was. I’d been in apartment 33 for five years now. But that was not my apartment. From what I could see inside, all the furniture was different, it was painted a different color, it was all wrong. I felt like I’d hit my head and was drugged. In that moment, nothing made sense.
I pulled out my phone to call Kelsey so she could calm me down and tell me I just got confused for a second. But her contact wasn’t in my phone. In fact, nothing was in my phone. I had no messages with her. No previous calls. No pictures. It was like my phone reset to its factory settings. Did that girl somehow switch my phone out when I wasn’t looking? I would’ve just dialed Kelsey's number manually, but I couldn’t quite remember it. I had known it by heart before, but not anymore. I needed to get back to the office, I had all my contacts backed up on my work computer.
Since it was still raining, I hopped on the bus which had a stop right in front of the apartment complex. I rode downtown toward my office, the whole time staring at my wet shoes, wondering what the hell was going on.
We have a keycard access to our building so only authorized personnel can get inside. I always keep my access card in my wallet, always. But, surprise, surprise—it wasn’t there. I buzzed in to the speaker we had for guests with appointments, or employees as a back-up in case anyone lost or forgot their card.
BZZZ
“Hey this is Tim, I must’ve lost my card. My employee number is…” I stopped as I drew a blank.
A voice came through the Speaker, “Tim? You got cut out, what’s your employee number?"
“Um, I can’t remember, I—”
“That’s fine, just tell me your full name and department.”
“Uh, finance. I’m in finance. My full name is Tim Brooks.”
“One sec.”
About thirty seconds later, the man spoke to me again.
“We don’t have a Tim Brooks working in this building. Did you have an appointment with someone?”
I backed up in surprise, almost tripping on my own feet. I had just been in that office an hour or two ago. What was happening to me? I felt like I was getting Alzheimer’s but going through every stage in one day. I stared at my hands, unsure if I was in the right body. I felt like the world around me was disintegrating. I wasn’t in control, I was merely sitting inside somebody else’s head, watching the world through their eyes.
Just then, I got a text. I recognized the number immediately, it was that girl. The one who gave me the jar. I had forgotten all about it until I saw her text.
Her: Hey. How’s it going?
I looked at my phone, dumbfounded. It made me angry she was so nonchalant about this. She knew what was going on. She had done this somehow.
Me: What the hell did you do to me?!
Her: The worst is yet to come.
I was astronomically close to just chucking my phone as far as I could in frustration. I took the jar out of my pocket. It looked unchanged, still glowing just as bright.
“What the fuck did you do!” I yelled at the jar, realizing I probably looked like a lunatic.
As I stared at its glistening glass, I realized something. I didn’t know what my wife’s face looked like anymore. I knew her name. Well, I know it started with a K, or maybe a C. I couldn’t picture her in my mind. I knew I had a wife. I knew I did. Yes, because I had a daughter. I had a wife and a daughter. I just, couldn’t remember their faces then—or their names, or their birthdays, or any memories I had with them.
I know they existed. They did exist. I had just seen them that morning, right? I couldn’t remember how she looked, or what she smelled like. What was our first date? We had a wedding, right? What about our first kiss? Or my daughter—or was it my son? Maybe I didn’t even have a kid. But my wife, or girlfriend, she was real. I knew she was. The thought was tearing me apart. I couldn’t see her in my head. I couldn’t recall a single fact about her.
I was standing outside of the same building, but I was unsure why I was. Did I work there? I must work somewhere. The rain was accompanied by a chilly wind now. It was whipping at my face, making my nose and cheeks sting. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to be warm. I wanted to go in to a shitty office job that kept a roof over my head. I wanted it all. I was soaking wet. I was miserable. I couldn’t remember my parents, or my childhood. Did I even have any friends? Why was I in the rain?
I looked down at my hand. I was still clutching the jar. The only memory of my entire life I could concretely remember was that girl giving it to me. Telling me it was happiness. It did not bring happiness. It brought pain. It bought suffering. I was more miserable in that moment than I’d ever been.
My phone buzzed:
Break the jar, Tim.
I looked at my other hand. With the setting sun and the rainy sky, I swear the jar glowed brighter than any street light near me. I didn’t break it because I was following her instruction. I broke it because I was angry. I broke it because I was upset. I needed a release. I raised my arm above my head, and brought it down with one swift motion, shattering the jar on the concrete beneath my feet.
That dark, chilly air accompanying the rain spread away like it was the shockwave of a bomb going off, and I was at the epicenter. I saw the warm, yellow light from inside the jar spread rapidly across the ground and ascend into the sky. It was as if I was watching the beginnings of the universe being created—like God had just snapped his fingers and said, “let there be light.” I was engulfed in it. I could no longer see street or rain, or anything dark. I felt like I was plummeting into a star going faster than the speed of light. It felt like sitting in front of a fire on a cold winter’s night, but that warmth was covering every inch by body.
And then I blinked.
Immediately I could feel the sheets beneath me, and my back barely touching my wife’s. I was staring out the window. The morning light drenched through the glass and gleamed on my face.
I stood from bed and grabbed my phone. It was Friday morning. I had one text:
Let me know if you ever need another jar :)
I called in sick to work. I snuck into my daughter’s room and greeted her with a kiss and told her she didn’t have to go to preschool today. We were going to have a family day. She smiled and stretched out her arms with a yawn before curling up and falling back asleep.
I got back in bed and squeezed my wife tightly. I didn’t let go for hours. Our daughter came into our room and woke us up eventually—she was jumping on the bed and shouting for us to wake up. Yesterday I may have found that annoying. Yesterday I may have found a lot of things annoying, or monotonous, or dull.
But not today. Today, I pulled her under the covers in between me and Kelsey.
Today was going to be a good day. Today, I was happy.
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Like Phantoms, Forever
Chapter Twelve | Never Meant
Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader
Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.
What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death
Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA
*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!
Masterlist
Spotify Playlist
Word count: 5.9k
Chapter-specific CW: NSFW content, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of the Force
A/N: I accidentally hurt my own feelings while writing this chapter, but hey! That's showbiz baby!!!
───────── ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ─────────
“Both pupils are equal, round, and reactive to light and accommodation,” the medical droid stated plainly as it lowered the penlight from your eyes and clicked it off.
You blinked rapidly, trying to wipe away the lingering light from your sight, but a trail still streaked through your vision.
“Considering that the cranial nerve assessment showed no deviation from the expectation and that the patient is not currently exhibiting symptoms associated with a traumatic brain injury, it is my professional opinion that she is safe to resume training activities and…”
As intriguing as 4-3B’s analysis of your condition was, you couldn’t help but tune it out—especially since the findings were identical to Ben’s.
“A little Force pushing isn’t enough to damage our thick skulls,” you said to Ben through your invisible connection, earning a stifled laugh from him seated across the examination room.
You lazily swung your legs back and forth from the examination table—which was really more like a bed—as you watched 4-3B’s assessment data automatically fill the blank spots in your chart. The system was fascinating to watch, instantly transferring information from its memory core to the blue-tinted data screen beside you as it verbally explained your report.
“If you begin to experience symptoms, such as headache, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, or visual disturbances, please come b–”
“Back to the infirmary immediately, I know,” you said impatiently, trying to hurry this visit along so you could escape the uneasy tension hanging between you, Ben, and Master Skywalker.
Given the comment he had made as you snuck into the temple, as well as his apprehension to send you two off in a private ship together, there was no doubt in your mind that he knew about you two, at least in some capacity. And to make matters worse, he knew that you knew that he knew. “Uncomfortable” didn’t do the situation justice.
“If you do not have any other questions, miss, you are cleared to leave.” 4-3B’s tone could only be described as irritated, at least by medical droid standards.
With that, you hopped off the table and started towards the door, avoiding your Master’s gaze.
“Well then, I think I’m going to turn in early for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Master,” you said quickly, already pulling the door open. You didn’t bother addressing Ben—trying to create as much distance between you and him in the sterile room.
“Not so fast.” Master Skywalker stopped the door with the Force, freezing it just shy of being wide enough for you to escape. “Since I have the two of you here, there’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Your pulse thrummed in your ears and throat, deafening you. You nodded and released the door handle, watching as it slowly latched shut.
Trepidation rolled through your stomach as you turned on your heels to face your Master, catching a glimpse of Ben seated in the corner as you did. He looked equally as displeased with the situation, his arms crossed over his chest and jaw tense as he sat slouched in the chair.
In the time that had passed as Master Skywalker articulated himself, the multitude of possible outcomes of this conversation ran through your mind—calculating every unique way he could chastise and dismiss you and Ben from the Academy. Would he be forthright and tell you that your illicit affair was against the Jedi Code? Or was he going to tip-toe around the subject before completely derailing your lives?
“Look, you two. I’m hesitant to send you off on a journey alone,” he said plainly, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes boring into your soul.
Your heart hammered in your chest with enough force to break your ribs and leap out onto the eerily clean floor. You swallowed thickly, conjuring up any possible excuse that could throw him off your scent.
Before you could speak, he continued. “I’m worried about what could happen out there if the two of you go without me…” He pulled his beard between his fingers, stroking it anxiously.
The three of you sat steeped in uncomfortable silence as you each processed your thoughts. You resisted the urge to glance at Ben as panic rose in your chest, followed closely by crushing disappointment. The last thing you wanted was for your Master to impose himself on your only chance at true alone time with Ben, your only opportunity to exist without the burden of the Jedi Order weighing on your conscience.
The previously mended cracks in your heart ruptured into deep, cavernous abysses at the realization. You could never truly be with Ben—not even in the capacity that you had expected to be for this one trip. The harsh reality was that these two things would always be mutually exclusive, and you weren’t sure which one you would rather live without.
“Master, I–” you started to say before Master Skywalker interrupted you.
“I know that I’m probably just being paranoid, but I can’t jeopardize your safety like this.”
“I’m going with her, aren’t I?” Ben’s voice cutting in reeled you back from your spiraling thoughts. He tilted his head as he stared at his uncle. “Do you doubt my ability to keep us safe, Master?”
The question hung in the air uncomfortably long as Master Skywalker glared back at him, his gray eyes slightly narrowed.
“It’s not that I doubt your abilities, Ben—I wouldn’t have entrusted you with this task if I didn’t. What I’m trying to say is that…” He paused, seemingly forcing the next words out of his mouth. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you out there.”
Ben scoffed as he stood from his seat. “But you’re fine with leaving the rest of your students behind?”
Your eyes widened a bit at his response. After all, it was a valid point.
“The Academy is safer than the expanse of the galaxy,” Master Skywalker said sharply.
“It may be, but that doesn’t mean you have to coddle us like we’re children.” Ben stepped closer towards him, towering over him. “We’ll be fine, Master. Besides, if we do run into any issues, we’ll have our comlinks and the Grimtaash’s communications to call for help.”
Master Skywalker brought his hand up to his mouth in thought. In the silence, you swore that your racing heart could be heard.
After what felt like an eternity had passed, he relented. “Fine. But I expect you to spend the rest of the afternoon checking the connections of those coms and reporting back to me when they’re cleared.”
Ben nodded in agreement and turned to face you, only taking a few long strides before reaching the door. You moved back to allow him room, still conscious of the pair of eyes that were following the both of you.
Ben yanked the door back and leaned back against it, propping it open and silently ushering you and Master Skywalker out of the infirmary. You ducked out first, wasting no time in returning to the students’ quarters.
A few moments later, you heard the sound of the two men bidding each other farewell, followed by heavy footsteps landing behind you. Unsurprisingly, Ben was catching up to you as his uncle walked away in the opposite direction.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing you by your shoulder and stopping you.
“Hey…?” you replied, trying to slough his hand from your body, conscious of possible prying eyes.
He stared down at you, bewildered by your reaction. “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened out there?”
In the chaos of the last thirty minutes, you had almost forgotten about what had landed you in the infirmary in the first place.
“Oh…yeah.” You resumed your pace at a slower rate as Ben walked beside you, your reply dying in the air as you continued towards the huts.
“You’re not nearly as freaked out as I had expected you to be,” he said with a light laugh. “That was insane!”
You looked up from the ground beneath you to meet his gaze. “What was that, Ben?” Your voice was low as you spoke, revealing your true concern. “I’ve never felt anything like it before. I’m not freaked out—I’m terrified.”
The silence that followed was haunting, an acknowledgment that what had happened was beyond a simple scrimmage or Force abilities. It was more powerful than that, something larger than the both of you.
“I’ve never felt anything like it before, either. All I know is that it must somehow be connected to us,” he said.
You rolled your eyes. “Stellar insight, Ben.”
“Let me finish,” he said, his voice was somewhere between stern and lighthearted. “What I mean is that it must be related to the connection we share. People don’t just communicate telepathically through the Force.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” you scoffed.
What was he trying to say?
“So… What if this is a sign?” He stopped walking beside you, cuing you to do the same.
“A sign about what? I don’t think this is something that you can make sense of—you just have to accept it at face value.” You stepped closer to him, lowering your volume. “We share something unique, and it’s all because of the Force, or some other, unexplainable entity. Or maybe it’s just an enigma we must accept that we’ll never understand.” There was a hint of defeat in your tone.
“It certainly is unique…” Ben trailed, his eyes tracing over your features as he spoke. His gaze was as intense as ever, his brown eyes clouded with an indiscernible emotion as they flitted down to your lips. He pulled you closer by your waist, leaving little room between your bodies.
Your eyes darted around the area as you pulled away from him. “Ben, no,” you hissed, prying his fingers off your body. “What the hell are you doing?”
He grinned down at you as he turned on his heels and dropped his hands from your waist. “Follow me.”
His voice was quiet and gravelly, and unfortunately for you, irresistible. Before you could think critically, your legs were already carrying you behind him, tied to him like a shadow.
“Where are we going?” you asked as you worked to keep up with him.
He glanced over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at you. “To show you around the ship.”
After a shorter walk than you expected, you found yourself in front of a field of grounded starships, each ranging in size, model, and color. There were smaller models scattered around, such as X-Wings and A-Wings, as well as a few freighters—the names of which you couldn’t conjure even if you tried. There must have been at least a dozen ships in the clearing, as if each one belonged to an individual student.
You stared at the ships with a childish wonder, amazed by each and every one of them. Of course, you had seen ships before—even traveled in one once before—but it was nothing compared to the fleet in front of you.
Every faded exterior and cosmetic damage on the surface of the metal panels told a story, each one of these crafts living a life of its own as a fighter against the Empire, a smuggler of stolen goods, or a transport full of refugees from the formerly occupied systems of the galaxy. Master Skywalker was breathing new life into each one of them here at his Academy.
Ben approached one charcoal gray freighter in particular, tapping his fingers quickly on the screen beside its massive door and lowering the ramp.
“Why have I never seen these before?” you asked, moving closer towards the lowering walkway of the ship.
“Is this not where T-2LC dropped you off when you arrived? I would’ve thought you would have seen the shipyard by now.”
“T-2…” you mumbled, racking your brain to recall the details of that day.
“The protocol droid that navigated the ship here. Elsie picked you up on Dantooine, right?”
The memory of the shiny silver droid came rushing back, remembering how it greeted you and introduced itself as you boarded the transport, just moments after you had taken one last look at your mother standing at the base of the ship. You cleared your throat and pushed the memory aside, ignoring the sting in your chest at the thought of your home.
“Oh, yeah…I remember now,” you said quietly.
Ben was standing at the base of the ramp, evidently waiting for you to stop rummaging through the memory of your interaction with the droid to come join him. As you came to a stop beside him, he slipped his hand into yours, causing you to instinctively pull back.
“It’s okay. No one’s going to see us out here,” he whispered.
You inhaled a deep breath and relaxed into his touch, giving his big hand a squeeze as he guided you up the ship’s ramp.
The interior was almost as dark as the exterior, just slightly warmer in hue. Lined with seats, control panels, and collectables from all over the galaxy, the belly of the ship was welcoming, luring you in to explore every detail.
You did, breaking free from Ben’s grasp and rushing forward, investigating the contents behind every sliding door and admiring each encased souvenir perched on the embedded shelving. Where are these from? What epic adventure is responsible for each collection piece? Your thoughts were moving faster than the speed of light as you ran your index finger through the thin layer of dust on one shelf.
Ben watched from the entryway with amusement as you pulled apart his ship, before entering the cockpit and powering the machinery on.
The engines didn’t rumble as he flipped switches on the control panel, leading you to believe he was only turning on the electricity in the ship. Your theory was confirmed when soft yellow lights flickered on around you, embedded in both the ceiling and floorboards.
“I hope you know I’m never leaving this place,” you called out as you toyed with the checkered table in front of a curved row of seats. You hadn’t played holochess since grade school, but you knew a Dejarik table when you saw one.
After a moment of fumbling with the switches, you finally managed to start a new game. A hologram of the classic chess pieces appeared from the center of the table. You let out an excited squeal as you flipped through the options before stopping on your favorite piece, seeing it for the first time again in over a decade.
“You play holochess?” Ben asked, leaning against the cockpit doorway. From the look on his face, you could tell that he was in his element here, ready to pilot the ship at a moment’s notice. His sharp features were softened by the ambient glow that flooded the space.
For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that this was just another conversation in a day of the life you shared with him, one where perhaps the two of you were freighters—or even more dangerous—smugglers, hauling cargo across the galaxy every day for a sweet profit.
Movement from the holochess pieces in front of you pulled you from your daydream, violently throwing you back into reality.
“I dabble. If you’d like, I’d gladly kick your ass in a quick round,” you said, forcing a smile—one that felt just a tad too wide to be sincere.
“Like you kicked my ass during training?”
“Exactly like training.”
“I might take you up on that after I finish checking these comms. After all, I need to even the score…” he said slowly, pushing himself off of the doorframe and moving closer towards you.
You rolled your eyes before staring off into the translucent image of the Kintan strider waiting idly above the round tabletop, your smile beginning to fade as heartache crept in.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He took the seat next to you and wrapped an arm around your back and another under your legs, pulling you across his lap. "Are you worried that I might actually kick your ass?"
A weak chuckle escaped from your throat as you wrapped your arms behind his neck, shaking your head in disagreement. The lingering thoughts of a domestic life with him were shoved out of the window in your mind as you rested your head on his chest.
The two of you stayed there for a moment, holding each other in peaceful silence as you counted each steady thump of his heartbeat and twirled your fingers around his dark locks. This was it. This was the closest thing to domesticity you could have with him.
"So..." you finally said, "is this ship yours? Or is it, like, shared with other students?"
“It’s mine,” he answered, his voice vibrating through you as you sat pressed against his ribs. “Just mine.”
You nodded slightly. “Does everyone else have their own, too?”
“No, just a few students. Not many people want to subject themselves to the required flying lessons with Master Skywalker.” The statement transformed into a soft laugh as he pictured what you could only assume was his own lessons with Master Skywalker.
“I can’t even imagine what it’s like,” you said, picturing yourself frantically trying to pilot a ship as Master Skywalker corrected your technique, holding onto the seat harness for dear life.
“It was pretty rough. The only saving grace for me was I already knew a bit from what my dad and his buddy had taught me,” he said softly. “Otherwise, I think I would’ve quit after the first lesson.”
His expression was warmer than it had been the last time he spoke about his father. You saw the opportunity in front of you and seized it, continuing your questions about his family.
“Your dad taught you how to fly?” You slid your fingers down his neck and over his shoulders as you waited for his response.
“Just the basics. He never actually let me practice flying, though.” His tone was becoming apathetic as he spoke, raising the alarm in your head that this was not a subject you should probe further.
“Ah, I see…” you mumbled, leaving behind a long pause as you scrambled to change the subject. “Well, uh, I really like your ship.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied with a quiet chuckle, seemingly relieved to be off the subject as well. “Although, there’s still one more room you need to see.”
As much as you would have liked to have stayed wrapped in his arms all day, you shifted off his lap and climbed out of the lounge, raising an eyebrow at him as you waited for him to show you the way.
The ship was certainly larger than the transport that carried you here, but considering the size of the main hold, you couldn’t imagine there was much space to spare.
Ben led the way through a tight corridor to the mystery room, your anticipation building with each step. Maybe it’s some sort of a glass, star observatory room, you thought. But, wait—isn’t that what the cockpit is?
After a short walk through the curved hallway of the ship, Ben stopped in front of another sliding door and entered the passcode into the touchpad, revealing what appeared to be the captain’s quarters.
The room was larger than you had expected it to be, making you wonder where this space was kept from an outside view of the ship. The walls were lined with white, cushioned tiles and detailed with pale blue and violet accents. A small kitchenette was tucked in the corner, separated from the rest of the room by a bar table with two stools anchored beneath it. Across from the kitchen was a spacious bed built into the wall, allowing for more floor space in the suite.
You stepped inside and walked over to the kitchenette, inspecting the high-tech appliances on the counter and peeking into the cabinets. When you turned around, you saw Ben crouched in front of the bed, taking inventory of the drawers’ contents beneath it.
The same heartache from earlier returned as you watched him, your reckless imagination fueled by the sight in front you. This could be your life—coming back to your shared room after a long day, changing into your sleepwear and crawling under the deep purple duvet before snuggling into each other’s embrace. You two would make trivial conversation and maybe even share a kiss or two—or three—before falling asleep and doing it all again the next day.
“So…” The sound of Ben’s voice yanked you from your thoughts. He was now seated on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows.
“Yes?”
“What do you think of it?” He motioned at the space around you, gauging your reaction. “I already stocked it with snacks and extra sets of clothes for you.”
You stood in front of him and pressed your palm into the mattress, testing its quality. It was soft and spongy, remembering the shape of your hand after you had lifted it. Certainly an upgrade from the Academy’s furnishings.
“Sets? Like, plural?” you asked, viciously picking at the skin around your nails. “How long are we going to be gone?”
He sighed. “That depends on how long it takes you to find your crystal.”
You blinked at him, your pulse rising in your throat. "Does it usually take a long time to find one?"
“Not necessarily. I can’t really say though, it’s different for everyone,” he said as he laid back on the mattress, his hair strewn around him like a dark halo.
A blend of excitement and anxiety consumed you. Excitement to be truly alone with Ben for the first time ever, but fearful to possibly fail at achieving this milestone. What if you couldn’t find a crystal at all? What if you weren’t meant to become a Jedi and you were just wasting Master Skywalker’s resources and time?
Noticing your concern, Ben grabbed your wrist gently and guided you to sit next to him. “It’s going to be okay. If it ends up taking you a little longer to find one, we’ll just make a trip to an outpost for extra food and supplies.”
You nodded and laid down beside him, your feet still planted on the floor. His confidence was almost contagious, nearly successful in convincing you that you were going to be fine. But deep down, you knew that you wouldn’t be relieved until you had your kyber crystal in your hands.
A beat passed before either of you said anything else. His hand found yours again and rubbed soothing circles over the back of it.
“As nerve-wracking as it is, I am really excited for this,” you said quietly, focusing on the pattern of his thumb on your skin.
Ben smiled in return—his authentic, beautiful smile that you loved so much. "I am, too." His honey eyes traced over your face, memorizing you.
“And this bed,” you said, rolling onto your side to face him as you poked a finger into the mattress. “It’s like laying on a cloud.”
He chuckled. “It’s certainly an upgrade from our cots.”
“I think I could stay here forever…” you sighed and paused, hesitant to complete the thought. “Stay here with you.”
He searched your eyes for a beat before his wide pupils darted down to your lips. A moment later, his lips were on yours, kissing you fiercely as he ran a hand along your waist. You moaned into the kiss as his grip tightened on your hip, pushing you onto your back and pinning you against the mattress.
A small gasp escaped your lips as he abruptly pulled away, slowly lowering his elbows on either side of your head.
“Ben–”
He silenced you with another kiss. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said, his voice low. "Watching you out there was driving me fucking insane."
You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your face. Was that why he was being so broody today?
Now wasn't the time to be asking these questions, not when you were pinned beneath him in his ship’s private bedroom.
“You mean it?” you purred, egging on his compliments.
He snatched your wrists in his big hand and brought them up above your head, leaning down until his face was only inches from yours. “Yes, I mean it.”
His body above yours and his dark tone caused your head to spin as desire stirred between your legs.
“Seeing my girl out there, kicking everyone’s ass just like I knew she would.”
Warmth rushed to your cheeks, either from his comment or from the heat radiating off of his body. My girl. Somehow, the endearment felt more intimate than his usual “princess.”
“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” you said, stretching your neck up to capture his lips.
He parted your legs with his knee and pressed you further into the mattress with his chest, kissing you roughly as he did. He released your wrists, but the pressure of his hands remained, an invisible restraint still holding them in place.
Pleased with himself, he leaned back and smiled at you, dark curls falling into his face as he watched you struggle against the Force.
"You son of a—" you started to say before a long finger pressing against your lips stopped you. You squirmed beneath him, trying to pull your hands free.
“If you keep moving, I’ll just tighten it.”
As different as this was, you actually didn’t mind it. In fact, there was something liberating about allowing him to have total control.
He pulled your robes apart and easily tugged them over your head before sliding his hands under the waistband of your pants. In an effort to make less work for him, you kicked off your boots, each one landing with a thud on the vinyl floor.
“Always so eager,” Ben said as he dipped closer to your ear, his warm breath sending a chill throughout your body.
"You're one to talk," you said breathlessly, your senses captivated by his hand slowly moving under your waistband.
He chuckled, the vibration rattling your brain as he dragged his lips down your jaw and neck.
Gooseflesh erupted over your skin as his fingers slipped under the thin material of your underwear, rubbing languid circles over your sensitive clit. Another gasp left your lips, followed by a soft whimper as he added light pressure, immersing you in pure bliss.
“Listen to you, princess,” he growled as he lowered his lips to yours, silencing the ensuing moan. “Go ahead, be as loud as you’d like in here.”
The statement felt more like a command than an invitation, but you didn’t need much incentive to comply. You relaxed into the mattress, letting your pleasure dictate the curses and moans leaving your mouth.
Ben kept his thumb on your clit as he lowered two fingers down to your entrance, instantly meeting the warmth gathering there. His eyes darkened and a tiny smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he whispered, slowly pushing his fingers inside of you.
You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a stuttered breath. He stretched you quickly, working his fingers deeper inside of you as his thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit.
It wasn’t long before you had adjusted to him, the initial pain subsiding into pleasure. You shut your eyes and allowed yourself to be submerged in the waves of bliss that washed over your body.
Fire licked at your skin as the blended sensation of his dexterous fingers effortlessly carried you towards your peak.
“Fuck, I’m gonna co–”
“No,” he snapped, pulling his hand out from under your pants. “Not yet, you aren’t.”
“What?” you panted, ripping your eyes open and shooting him a puzzled look. You groaned at the loss of contact as your ecstasy fizzled out, turning into a smoldering ember.
He didn’t respond, only stepping back and silently stripping the heavy robes off of his body.
The invisible grip holding your arms disappeared, and without him even saying a word, you knew why he had released you. You wiggled out of your pants and underwear before tugging your bra over your head and tossing it aside.
Just as you had adjusted yourself to lay properly on the bed, Ben replaced the invisible restraint around your wrists, pinning them against the silk pillow behind you.
You scoffed as you tried again to free yourself. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he said as he crawled over you, lowering his body until it was almost touching yours. “If you want to come, I suggest you stop fighting it.”
You could tell he was enjoying this—having the power in the situation. And truthfully, it was incredibly hot.
"Okay..." you said, drawing the word out as you looked up at him with doe eyes.
He propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand tracing down your neck until he reached the skin between your breasts. Your heart slammed against your ribs with each beat, undoubtedly pulsating through his fingertips as they rested over your sternum. He lingered there for a moment before cupping one of your breasts with his hand, gently rolling your nipple between the rough pads of his fingers.
You melted into his touch, letting out a relieved moan as you relaxed into the pillows behind you.
“That’s better,” he said as he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly.
His fingers grazed over your stomach as he reached for your aching clit, passing over it with just a quick circle before stopping at your entrance. You rolled your hips against his hand, silently pleading for more.
His touch was featherlight as he spread your desire around your cunt before replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, dragging it over your clit. You watched in awe as he did, trying to memorize how his hair fell haphazardly into his face and his plush lips parted in concentration. The sight alone was enough to reignite the ember in your belly.
Sparks buzzed in your stomach as he aligned himself with you, his dark eyes meeting yours one last time, drinking in the image of your body sprawled out beneath him.
Slowly, he sank into you, releasing a deep groan from his chest as he did. You fought the urge to reach up for him, to wrap your hands around his shoulders for support as he moved inside of you.
You quickly adjusted to his size this time, having already had his fingers warming you up. Even still, he had to stop and pull back every so often to fully fit inside of you.
“You feel so fucking good,” he sighed into your neck, peppering wet kisses onto the skin. His fingers brushed over your chest and arm before interlocking with yours when he reached the invisible bind. “You’re so tight, baby.”
Between the sensation of him fucking you and his sweet adorations, your orgasm was steadily building again, your senses heightening with each thrust.
“Fuck—please—don’t stop,” you breathed between moans, wrapping your legs tighter around him to bring him closer to you.
He flexed his jaw as he pulled his hand free from yours, moving to hold your hips firmly as his fingers dug into your flesh. His movements were becoming uneven, evidence of his own desire.
“You did so well today, my good fucking girl…” he grunted, pushing into you harder. “And you’re being so good for me right now, too.”
Your addled brain was swimming at his words, and before you could say anything in response, a familiar sensation began buzzing around your clit.
“Oh, fuck! Just like that—right there,” you cried, practically babbling as the Force propelled you towards your peak.
“I want you to come when I tell you to,” Ben said as he propped himself up and unlatched your ankles from his waist, gripping them tightly as he pulled them over his shoulders.
You only nodded in response, unable to push coherent words out between breaths.
In this new position, he was able to fuck you deeper, his cock rubbing against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stave off your impending orgasm.
“Ben, I can’t,” you said between breaths. “I’m gonna–”
“Yes, you can. Just a little bit longer, baby.” His own pleasure was bleeding into his tone, the muscles in his shoulders and back becoming tense beneath your legs.
It felt nearly impossible to hold off any longer, but just as you were about to give in, the pressure around your wrists disappeared. Without hesitation, you wove your fingers in his hair, pulling him down as close to you as you possibly could.
The muscles in your legs burned as he continued to fuck you, leaning down and hovering above your lips, his ragged breath warm as he spoke. “Come for me.”
Euphoria ripped through you, staining your vision with blinding, white light as your orgasm washed over you, cries of pleasure ripping free from your chest. Your cunt pulsed around Ben’s cock as you came down from your high, causing his movements to become rushed and erratic.
Still rolling through the aftershocks of your climax, your eyes fluttered open, seeing Ben above you, mouth open and eyes screwed shut as he chased his own peak. It wasn’t long before his hips stilled inside you, his fingers bruising your skin as he gripped your thighs, filling you with his cum.
The world was spinning around you as he slowly pulled out of you, causing warmth to drip down your skin as he did. He collapsed on his forearms and kissed you gently, moving his lips lazily against yours as you both relished the endorphins coursing through your veins.
When he finally broke the kiss, you cleared your throat and nodded down at the mess between your legs. “Um, Ben? Can you…?”
He was already on his feet and pulling his pants over his hips, his gaze intense as he watched you lying helplessly on the bed.
“Don’t worry about the sheets, but as for that,” he said with a light laugh as he secured his pants, towering over you with one knee pressed into the mattress. “Let me take care of that.”
He carefully traced his fingers along your sensitive skin, gathering the warm cum that was spilling out of your cunt.
“What the fuck are yo—oh!” you gasped as he pushed his coated fingers inside your entrance again. While it was not at all what you were expecting, the grin on his face as admired his good work made your heart beat violently in your chest.
“Better?” he asked, slipping his fingers out of you and wiping the remnants off on the sheets.
“Yeah, better,” you whispered as he handed you the pile of your discarded clothes.
“That’s my girl.”
You pulled your underwear back on, instantly feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you as you sat up. Lovely.
Despite your mild irritation, you couldn’t deny how oddly exhilarating it was to have his cum soaking your underwear.
You stood from the bed and finished dressing, smoothing out the creases in your robes as a final touch.
Ben placed a hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the door. “Now, we really should get back to checking the coms.”
#sometimes you gotta bang the sadness away in your school's shipyard#ben solo#ben solo x reader#kylo ren#kylo ren x reader#kylo ren x y/n#kylo ren x you#ben solo x fem!reader#ben solo x you#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars self insert#kylo ren smut#ben solo smut#my writing
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Rapacious - rə-ˈpā-shəs- excessively grasping or covetous, living on prey, ravenous
(A rapacious appetite only for you my doll)
Hello and welcome to my first formal collab with the lovely @lady-bakuhoe Our thirsty dms finally turned into a full blown collab where our writing melds into one. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
✧Triggers and Warnings ✧
Pro Hero Dynamight, aged up AU, adult themes, such as intense sexual interaction, yandere behavior, mind break (?), branding, and dub con. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read any further. Thank you.
The snow comes down heavily, beautifully as it sticks and clings to anything it can. Blanketing the outside world in an unsullied shimmer bringing a smile to your face as you watch the sun dip low over the horizon. The light painting the world in stunning reds and pinks as it filters in through your bay window that faces the street. A small shiver runs through your spine as you wait impatiently for your warm tea, convincing yourself that the chill has nothing to do with your outfit. An oversized Red Riot t-shirt, a pair of black dolphin shorts and black thigh high socks, it was comfortable and you felt cute. Even if it was just for yourself, besides what else would one wear to their solo Netflix binging? Surely not pants.
A rapid knock comes at the door. Harsh, precise as you jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your mug.
Lifting your cell phone to check the time, wondering who could be knocking at this hour, it was far too late for any visitors and it surely wasn't the post. The icy snow ensured that most people would be snuggled into their couches with a warm cup of tea, tucked away from the harsh weather. Much like you were trying to do, maybe if you ignored it the unsuspecting visitor would move on.
But another sharp knock echoes around your living room, urging your feet to move. You pad through your small townhouse, trying to get a glimpse through the window only for the unwanted guest to be standing just out of view. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the thick oak door, debating on whether to open it or not as another knock sounded from the other side. Curiosity with a hint of fear compels your fingers as you click your door onto the chain latch. Opening it slightly, looking out between the crack in the door to see who it was.
“H-hi.” Your eyes caught sight of the man outside your house, pupils widening in surprise at the sight of him. Messy ash blond spikes on top of his head as his hair faded to a low buzz cut at the sides, “Dynamight?”
The man's scowl morphed into a smirk at your recognition, obviously proud that you knew who he was, his vermilion eyes glistening in the light gleaming from your house as you moved to take the door off the security latch, opening it fully so you could see him properly. His gaze immediately drank you in, glancing at the thigh high socks that hugged your thighs as he made his way up to the hem of your shirt, cherishing the exposed skin of your upper thighs until he noticed the shirt you were wearing. His nostrils flaring slightly at the sight of his best friend's face across your chest. It should be his.
“My car broke down.” He motioned to the car that now sat motionless at the end of your drive, fresh snow already falling and covering its windscreen, “Can I come inside?”
"Oh, um…" You're hesitant, technically you didn't know Dynamight but he was a pro hero. That meant he could be trusted right? Snow sticks to his blonde strands and shoulders. His hands and nose were a little red making it seem as if he had been in the cold a touch too long. Swallowing your fear you take a step back from the door, arm gesturing for him to come in. Silently elated he steps in as if he owns the place. What were the odds he would end up at your doorstep?
"Um, can I offer you some coffee? Coco? Tea?" Your voice sounds small, stupid. Nervousness prickles over your skin as he sinks into your couch.
"Tea is fine." His voice is silky and foreign in your warm home. He watches you with sharp eyes as you reach for a mug. Your short shorts ride up just a bit as your shirt gives him a tease of your back.
Meanwhile you're buzzing from head to toe, THE one and ONLY Dynamight, the man you'd been dreaming of since his debut, the only face and voice that you ever imagined when your hands ventured into your soaked panties, was here. In your home, sitting on your couch and oh Gods...Which blanket did you have out? Was it his that you sprayed with his line of cologne so you would feel less lonely in your apartment?
The kettle howls pulling you violently back to the task at hand. Should you ask him how he'd like his tea? You already know how he likes it, having read it in a magazine once committing it to memory in case you ever met him. But would that come off too strong? You settle on making it perfectly in hopes it would paint you in the light of a "great hostess." You grab onto the cup and turn to face the ill tempered hero head on.
He turns away in time, relaxed on your couch as you offer him his cup. He takes it from your hands, his cool fingers brushing against yours. He takes a sip, peering at you over the rim. His vermillion eyes cause your stomach to flip as you nervously twist the hem of your shirt. His eyes rake over you with a smirk before they land on your worrying hands and that damned Red Riot shirt. Suddenly you're hyper aware of your inappropriate outfit, tugging your shirt over your exposed skin.
His large palm settles on your thigh, starling you.
"The outfit isn't the problem. I just think you look much better in my shirt." He tugs at the hem, "Maybe you should take this one off."
“W-what?” You stammered, your body instinctively shrinking away from his touch.
“There’s just something about the way my face looks stretched against those tits.” He smirked, taking a sip of the warm mug before slipping it into your coffee table.
“What do you mean?” Confusion evident in your tone. What was he talking about? Your Dynamight merchandise? How would he have any idea about how much of a fan you were of him, just how many of his shirts sat in your closet right now.
“Don’t act all coy.” Bakugou continued, turning his body to face yours on the couch, a dark look in his vermillion eyes as his fingers danced higher up your exposed thigh, feeling a warmth begin to seep from his palm as his cool calloused fingertips dig into your skin, “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“I assure you, Dynamight.” Bakugou groaned at the way his hero name sounded spilling from your lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Every day you’re out there being a fuckin’ tease.” He growled, biting your lip as you felt his blunt fingernails digging into the plush of your thigh, “Prancing around in these short fuckin’ shorts and my shirts.”
Wait, had he seen you wearing his merch before? Had he seen you in his clothes? How? You were certain he’d never seen the multiple selfies you’d take of yourself to upload onto social media, always too scared to tag your favourite Hero. Instead proclaiming your love for him shamelessly on your socials, gushing about how he was the perfect hero. Still, even if he was lurking on your accounts, he couldn't possibly remember someone as lowly as you.
“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you?” He snarled, his other hand moving up to palm your breast through your shirt, the action catching you by surprise as you gasped, “You wanted me to see you acting like such a slut.”
“N-no, Dynamight. I wasn’t-” You stammer as you think back, trying to remember all of the times you thought you felt a weighted gaze on you. Only to look over your shoulder to find nothing before submerging yourself back into your mundane world.
"Wasn't what? You mean you weren't trying to show the whole neighborhood your ass when you bent over 'pulling weeds'?" His palm becomes uncomfortably hot as his voice dips lower, lips brushing your ear as you drown in his spiced caramel scent.
"Maybe you heard about your new neighbor Pro Hero Red Riot, wanted to show off for him? Or maybe you're just a slut who loves the attention?"
Your blood runs cold, icy despite his burning palm, you swallow thickly as he continues to recite your summer as if reading from a list.
"You know exactly what you're doing don'tchya? So many men have changed their jogging route to include your street, even if it is well out of their way. They slow their pace in front of your house when you're outside. Bent over, head lost in your garden and your skin tight shorts show your plump lips, your thick thighs and that supple, soft ass. Tits almost falling out from your crop tops as you must refuse to wear a bra. But you're such a good girl, reminding everyone who you belong to when you wear those shorts with my name across the ass."
He leans away from you to hold your gaze. A shiver runs up your spine, you had never posted those shorts. The fan made ones that say "Bakugou's" across the ass, fuck how did he-?
He reads the question across your face, a nasty smirk dances on his cruel lips as he takes delight in the fear that blows your pupils wide.
"I've been watching you Princess." You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the realisation, “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
You didn’t.
“That’s why you put on such a show for me every time, isn’t it?”
You hadn’t noticed your favourite Pro-Hero had been watching you all this time. You were beyond excited when Red Riot had moved into the neighbourhood, wishing you’d catch a glimpse of him each time you left your house. Getting up early some mornings just to see the red head stretching for his morning run, his muscles taut across his thick frame. But not once had Bakugou been anywhere in sight. You were sure you'd remember the ash blonde standing next to your second favorite hero.
“You do it on purpose.” Bakugou growled, his hand moving to your exposed waist, stroking against your naked skin as his fingers dipped underneath your top, “It turns you on doesn’t it? Everyone looking at your slutty little body.”
“No, please. It doesn’t- I’m not.” You tried to move away from him, but he already had your body trapped between the arm of the couch and his large, muscular frame.
“All those eyes on you and you don’t give a fuck.” Bakugou’s large palm grasps your round breast, groaning when he feels your nipple pebbled underneath his touch, “You want everyone to see you.”
Before you have a moment to object, to tell him how wrong he is, his lips are already against yours in a sultry kiss. Your mind hazy as he immediately prods your lips with his tongue, desperate for entrance as he invades your mouth. You couldn’t believe what was happening, The Dynamight was inside your house. Your entire body burning as his heat engulfed you, this was something you’d dreamed about more than you could recollect. The amount of nights you’d touched yourself to the thought of his hands dancing across your body. Trying to imagine how it would feel to be completely ravaged by him, but now that he was here in the flesh you were nervous. The reality of the situation slowly consumes your body as your heart beats with more intensity.
“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” Bakugou rasps huskily as he tugs your shirt up and over your breasts, his vermilion eyes taking in the sight of your exposed chest to his prying eyes, “Even better than I imagined.”
You nervously tried to move your arms to your chest, trying to hide your body from his burning gaze, but his hand was quick to grab your wrist, tugging your arm away with a glare, “Don’t.”
You averted your eyes from his own, biting your bottom lip as he lowered his face to your chest. His tongue tentatively coming out to lap around your darkened areola, closing his lips around your hardened nipple as he began to suck on the tender skin. Your head falling onto the back of the couch as you let out a low whine, one of your hands coming up to brush through his buzzed undercut, stroking against the spiky hair as you arched your back into his touch.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this, sweetheart.” He murmured around your nipple, his warm breath fanning against your skin as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. An airy gasp leaving your parted lips at the sensation as you involuntarily arched your back into his touch, “Every fuckin’ time I saw you-”
Wait? Every time he saw you? How often did he seek out your address? How many times did his crimson eyes burn into your skin without your noticing?
Your eyes dart to the large bay window, holding eye contact with yourself as you stare at your reflection. A pitiful and clear sight as the blonde's hands groped your exposed tits. If the pro hero was brazen enough to peer through your unobstructed window, just how many other eyes fall onto you?
“When I saw you in my signed debut Dynamight shirt, I knew I had to have you.” His lips curving into a grin against your skin as his tongue lapped at your hardened nipple, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger, “There’s just something about the sight of you in my clothes.”
At the mention of your rare signed shirt your body goes rigid, numb. If he had seen you in the shirt you mostly kept tucked away for safekeeping, he had seen everything hadn't he?
“Don’t go all shy on me now, Princess.” He released your nipple with a pop, palming your breast with a grin as he pressed his lips against your own, “Weren’t shy when you were putting on a show for everyone, were you?”
Your bottom lip trembled at the suggestion, worrying it between your teeth as you felt Bakugou lean forward to grab your wrist in a large hand, the scent of his quirk filling the air as you felt the heat radiating from his palm. Vermilion eyes glancing down at your half-lidded ones, a glazed expression over your features as you focused on his touch.
“Look at what you fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart.” Bakugou tightened his grip on your wrist, moving your hand towards his crotch. His cock bulging against his pants, desperate to be released as he lay your palm against him. Gasping at the sensation as your palm made contact with the fabric, feeling just how hard he was for you underneath the denim.
All the while his thoughts are consumed by you, your smell, the look of surprise on your face. The feel of your skin against his and the heat of your breath tickling his ear when he pins you to the couch.
All of the things he'd been imagining for the last few months. Your small hand against his large, twitching cock. Even through the fabric your warmth is hypnotizing, drawing him in and captivating him with every inch of you.
Bakugou's problem is that he can be greedy, hungry for more. Wanting nothing but the best and much like his sun sign, once he had his eyes set on something nothing could overcome his stubborn ambition. Not even the small look of fear in your eyes but even he can see that it is fading, melding into desire. He watches your fingers flutter, teasingly trying to figure out just how big and girthy he really was. Your heart races as you stare into his clouded vermillion eyes. Blood running hot as your mouth salivates, imagining the same thing he is.
How does it taste?
You let out a soft whine, fingers prodding at the head earning you a borderline feral growl.
"Quit being a fucking tease and take it out, Princess." He groans, you freeze at his bold request.
"B..but…" He crowds you as your protests die in your throat. His lips brushing against your ear as he breathes in your sweet shampoo.
"But what Princess? Scared I'll fuck you stupid?" He nips at the shell of your ear, chuckling darkly when you shiver, "Or are you scared you'll get addicted to how I taste?"
"T-taste?"
"Aw look at you acting all fuckin shy?" He squeezes your thighs with a deadly grip, fingers creeping between them, "You weren't so shy last week sitting in this spot were you?"
You freeze as you think back to last week, knowing exactly what you were doing, eyes glancing over his broad shoulder to see the snow coming down in sheets through the large bay windows. You thought you were high enough and far enough away from the road, there, there was no way he saw right?
His fingers press against your clothed sex, rubbing rough circles unable to keep the deadly smirk off of his lips.
"Your phone in one hand and your other right here. Or maybe," He moves the dark fabric to the side, sliding his fingers to your clit, "It was here."
You bite back your moans as the rough pad of his fingers circle your clit, just barely grazing over it in an agonizing purposeful fashion.
"What were you watching again? Amateur porn right? POV with the guy's face hidden but he was in a knock off Dynamight suit wasn't he?" He pulls back to watch your face, twisting with pleasure and horror, body arching towards his touch as your head swims. Cunt clenching as he dips closer to your core for slick.
"And what did that slutty mouth say?" His smile is cocky, holding eye contact. Silence sits between the two of you as your eyes flutter. He pulls his hand away from your throbbing clit, squeezing against your pulse point.
"I asked a question, Kitten. Now answer it." His voice is dark.
"Dy-Dynamight." You gasp out, he ruts his hips against your leg.
"Again." His free hand slips back between your folds, fingers setting a rapid pace that already has you teetering on the edge already.
"Dynamight!"
"Again. Say my name again." His fingers work you over as the coil unexpectedly snaps in your stomach.
"Katuskiiii." You gasp and whine, shamefully cumming all over his thick digits. He groans, shoving his fingers into your cunt to feel you grip onto him, he cannot wait to feel that pretty pussy molding to his aching cock.
But he would wait, for now.
"Good girl." He praises, pulling his fingers from your core, licking up them. Savoring your essence as you watch his eyes flutter paying you a high compliment. In quick motions he throws a pillow onto the solid hardwood floor, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you onto the plush cushion. His free hand undoing his belt with deft fingers before he pulls his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, the head leaking precum as you lick your lips.
"You're gonna keep being a good girl for me right, Princess?" He coos, dragging his cock across your lips, smearing his sweet and salty pre from cheek to cheek.
"Fuck do you know how long I've been dreaming of your lips around my cock?" He groans, pulling your hair back to force eye contact.
"How, how long?" Your question prompts that nasty smile as his crimson eyes gleam with cruelty and lust.
"Months."
And with that he pulls your hair back hard enough that you cry out in pain. Bakugou takes the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth. Bottoming out at the back of your throat causing you to gag, your spit eases the roughness of his slow harsh thrusts as your eyes water.
Nothing could have prepared you for feeling Bakugou inside you for the first time, your wildest fantasies didn’t equate to this. The sheer size of his thick, bulging cock made it difficult for you to take him inside your mouth. The prominent veins that forked along the side dragging against your cheek as he eased you down on his length. Fingers stroking through your hair sweetly, a stark contrast to his previous movements. His husky voice cooing down at you, gentle praises that had you keening, desperate to hear more. The red, swollen tip prodding against the back of your throat as you gagged around him, a mixture of spit and pre dribbling down your chin as you tried to fit more of him inside your mouth hungrily.
“So fuckin’ greedy.” Bakugou grunted, his fingers carding into your messy hair and tugging harshly against the root, pressing you further down his aching cock. Watching the way your cheeks hollowed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. The movement causing fresh tears to clump in your lashes as you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. His coarse blond pubic hairs tickling your skin as he held your head down on his cock.
Struggling for oxygen as your tongue lashed against the underside of his length, the salty sweet taste of his cum mixed with the lack of oxygen making you light headed as you felt yourself falling deeper into him. Teeth grazing his sensitive skin as you tried to relax your throat, innocent eyes gazing up at him. The sight almost had him cumming on the spot, it was something he’d thought about for months, stroking himself raw to the thought of your lips wrapped around him. You felt gentle tremors flowing through your body as he finally allowed you a moment of respite, tugging you off his length roughly as you gasped for air.
“So pretty for me,” His warm palm stroked against your cheek, dipping his thumb between your parted lips as he felt you instinctively close your mouth around it. Your tongue swirling around the calloused pad of his thumb as you heard him groan above you, “Look at you.”
“How many times have you played with that slutty little pussy to the thought of me, hah?” Bakugou mused, his thumb slipping from your mouth as he pulled down your lower lip, watching the way your face followed after his hand to try and pull him back in.
“P-please.” You trembled, already feeling your clit throbbing painfully between your thighs, already feeling unsatiated as crimson eyes glared down at you.
“I bet you’ve never had anything this big inside you,” He wrapped his palm around his cock, smirking when he noticed your eyes hyper focused on him, “Have you?”
You shook your head nervously, even the toys you’d experimented before didn’t equate to his sheer size, “N-no, Dynamight.”
“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, Princess.” Bakugou’s thoughts already flooding to how your tight little cunt would feel being split around his cock. Moulding it to his size so you’d never be satisfied with anything or anyone else. You were going to be his and his alone, and he’d do anything to ensure that happened, “Wanna feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, yeah?”
His words sending more pleasurable jolts to your core, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he helped you to your feet, his large palms keeping against your hips as he dipped his fingers beneath the hem of your shorts. Sliding the material down your thighs with one rough tug, exposing your naked body to his prying eyes. The sight of you completely bare in front of him had his cock twitching almost painfully, you were even more perfect than he had imagined.
“C’mere, Princess.” He cooed gently, a stark contrast to his earlier actions. You keened as you slid onto his lap, feeling his thick cock pressed snugly between your folds as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Your fingertips digging into his shirt as you tried feebly to get him to take it off.
“So needy,” He smirked, leaning forward to tug his shirt up and over his head. His chiselled abs now on full display as you focused in on each sharp ridge. He was even more perfect in person, and you couldn’t quite believe that the Dynamight was now in front of you.
Bakugou’s large palms moved back to your hips, pressing you down against his cock as you felt the length stroke against your slit, involuntarily grinding down against him as you tried to give your clit some much needed stimulation. The action did not go unnoticed by Bakugou who smirked at your desperation, digging his fingertips into your skin as he began to circle your hips against his cock.
“You’re soaking my cock and I haven’t even put it in yet,” He smirked as he felt your slick coating his length, watching in amusement as you continued to grind yourself against him, trying to give yourself some relief, “Bet you could get yourself off just like this, hah?”
“No,” You whined, “Please,”
“Please, what?” He coaxed, his fingers slipping between your bodies to tease your puffy clit, a harsh laugh leaving his lips when he felt the way your body jerked at his touch.
“Please,” You trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous and self-conscious that you were now very much naked in front of your favourite Pro-Hero.
“You don’t seem to want it enough, Princess.” Bakugou teased, moving you away from his cock as you groaned in displeasure. Your eyes looking down at his shaft that was now coated in a layer of your slick. Fresh pre spilling from the tip as you reached out to grab him between your fingers. Bakugou’s reflexes were quicker as he caught your wrist in his large palm, giving you a warning look as his nostrils flared.
“So fuckin’ greedy.” He moved his hands back to grab your ass, kneading the round mounds as he moved you to hover over his cock, vermilion eyes gazing up at you as he waited for you to speak, “You want my cock?”
“Yeah-” You felt your head nodding before you’d even had a chance to think, desperate to feel him sliding inside your warmth, splitting you open as he buried himself deep inside you.
“Yeah?” He mocked, tilting his head to the side as he pressed a kiss against your pebbled nipple, “Then fuckin’ beg for it.”
“Please, Dynamight.” You rolled your hips again, grinding against nothing as you tried to create some friction between your thighs, “Want your cock.”
A groan spilled from his lips at such blunt words leaving your pouty lips, calloused fingertips digging into your supple flesh as he pressed you down on the head of his cock. The tip stretching you out slightly as you tried to drop your hips down on him, wanting to feel him deep inside you.
“You want Dynamight to fuck this slutty pussy?” He pulled you away from his cock which caused a needy whine to spill from your lips, trying to angle your hips back towards his length.
Bakugou’s palm wrapping around his cock to drag the swollen, reddened tip along your sopping folds. Feeling your slick coat his skin as it mingled with his pre, watching the way your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his cockhead brushing against your clit.
“Yes.” You hissed, already anticipating the pleasurable stretch his girth would create inside you. The thick head already back at your tight entrance as he watched you shamelessly try and drop your hips down onto him.
"Yes what?" His voice is dark with pleasure as he glares up at you, a pitiful mess. He's toying with you, as a cat does a mouse and you feel utterly embarrassed. This was Pro hero Dynamight damn it, you wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to be sexy, not some whiny bitch in heat.
Little did you know how much Bakugou loved it, lived for it as he gently bounced you on just the tip. Driving you wild as you whined, all the while he smirked.
"Please Katsuki-sama." Your nails rake down his forearms, "Please, please fuck me."
"That's my good girl." He slams you down on his cock in one swift motion causing your vision to spot. He relishes the way you flutter around him, adjusting as a shiver runs up your spine.
"Now fuck yourself on my cock, Princess."
"But-" He wraps his hand around your throat, malice and lust dance in his eyes as his free hand travels to your thigh. Palm heating with each pound of your heart until it begins to become too much, too hot.
"Ride me like you did your fingers last week. You were thinking of me then weren't you, pervert?” You gasped at his crude words, the idea that he had been watching you while you dipped your fingers inside your tight cunt had embarrassment ebbing in your core. Your body trembling as the object of your affections degraded you, “Wishing it was me finger fuckin’ that pretty pussy, yeah?”
Unable to stop the shameless moan that left your parted lips, the sound restricted to a strangled gasp as he kept his palm wrapped tightly around your jugular.
“Or were you thinking of Red Riot since you love wearing his merch so much, hah.” Bakugou goaded, you could feel his grip against you tightening as his palms heated up dangerously, “Wishing he’d come in and bend you over like the little slut you are.”
“N-no,” You tried to gasp out, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen that flowed through your body.
Bakugou loosened his grip around your neck, keeping his palm against your skin as he leaned his head closer to yours, his warm breath fanning your face as vermilion eyes bored into your own, “What was that?”
“J-just you, Dynamight.” You rasped, a rush of air filling your lungs as your chest heaved against him, “Only for you-”
“Yeah?” His lips curled into a cocky grin, immediately tightening his grip around your throat once more, “That’s fuckin’ right, you should be thinking about me when you play with that sloppy pussy.”
He squeezes both your throat and thigh harder. You rock your hips, fucking yourself on his fat cock as you gasp for air, hands desperately holding onto toned arms for support as the coil in your stomach begins to snap.
“Now I want you to fuckin' show me how much of a Dynamight fan you really are." He groans at the way you grip around him, tongue lulling past his smirk for just as second.
If you had to try and describe this feeling it would be something akin to euphoria, a constant throb ebbing through your cunt at the dull stretch his cock caused around your core. His cock moulding you to his shape as he bounced you on his lap, the thick jutting veins along his girth dragging against your inner walls with each pronounced thrust. Desperate cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as he fucked himself into you, hungrily searching to pull more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips. You felt pearly tears begin to clump in your lashes as he fucked into your tight cunt with vigour, uncaring for giving you a moment of respite as he hungrily used you for his own pleasure.
“Aw, you gonna cry, Princess?” He sneered, vermilion eyes gazing down at your own as he kept his pace, “I know you fuckin’ love it. I can feel you squeezing my cock.”
“Please-” You couldn’t think of the words, your mind foggy with the juxtaposition of pleasure and pain overwhelming you as he continued to fuck you with reckless abandon.
“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid, dumbass.” He grunted, the calloused pads of his fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs, crude noising filling the air as you could hear just how wet you were for him, “That sloppy pussy is drooling all over my cock.”
"Who do you belong to?" His husky voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling your heart into your stomach.
"You." You gasp as the heat of his palm on your leg begins to burn, skin warping beneath his touch. Hand glowing golden as if he were a God while his quirk begins to really activate. The smell of spiced caramel, smoke and scalded flesh cling to the couch and invade your senses as a crude whimper leaves your parted lips. The skin that he’d just burned throbbing under his touch, as heat surged through your body. His sharp thrusts helping to morph the pain you felt into a pure, unabashed pleasure as he watched you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Good girl. Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to." Your eyes flicker away from his face before he uses his finger behind your jaw to meet his gaze, "Look at your King when you cum."
The combination of pleasure and pain paired with the thought of being his makes that delicate coil snap. Your body tenses and freezes as you shake atop his lap, biting nails drawing blood on his arms. He smirks, fucking up into you as another mind numbing orgasim washes over your body. Without withdrawing himself he flips the two of you against the couch.
“Fuck, look at you.” Your back presses into the cushions as he towers over you. Gazing down and into your eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, switching hands to place one on your unburnt thigh, “So fuckin’ pretty.”
The telltale sounds of his quirk sound in the room as his hands crackle, heating his other palm, readying himself to repeat the action. To mark your body and claim you as his own, so if anyone dared to look at you they would know exactly who you belonged. Permanent hand prints marking you as his. No one else was allowed to have you, not that you had a choice, at least not anymore.
Bakugou hissed as he felt your cunt continue to flutter around him in the aftershocks of your climax, snapping his hips as his pelvis hits against your puffy clit, head swimming from both pleasure and your primal need to breathe that was being wholly denied.
Bakugou was going to ruin you and you'd let him.
"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Another possessive question that rockets you to the edge, body hoping for another mark, to make you symmetrical.
Whole.
"You." Another raspy breath but it's enough for Bakugou to hear. A silent moan tears from your throat as you try to keep your eyes locked with his. Pain blooming on your thigh with a delicious bite.
“What was that?” He snarled, pressing your thigh up against your chest as his arm slid underneath your knee, resting your calf over his shoulder as he changed the angle of his thrusts, his cock delving deeper between your folds as you felt the swollen tip bruising your cervix with each hard rut of his hips, “Say my name.”
“Dynamight.” You called out, already feeling your body throbbing in the telltale signs of another orgasm, your thighs quivering as you felt Bakugou fuck your body into the couch hard before using his grip on your thigh to drag you back into him.
The crude sound of skin against skin vibrated around the room as his meaty balls slapped against the swell of your ass, Bakugou’s muscular frame dwarfing your own as he used you for his own pleasure. His own little cocksleeve that would succumb to his every request, you would be his and his alone to use as he pleased.
“Again.” A low growl sounded from the back of his throat, a possessive undertone to it as he urged you on, “Say it again.”
“Dynamight.” You managed to whimper through sobs, tears trickling down your temples now and soaking into your messy hair. The sound of his name spilling from your lips made him readjust his thrusts with newfound intensity.
“That’s fuckin’ right. Red Riot would never fuck you this good, hah?” He provoked, a clear sign of dominance over you, “You’re fuckin’ made for my cock.”
A cry slipping from your lips as he gave a particularly hard thrust inside your aching cunt, the tip of his length pounding against your cervix as he worked to claim your body as his own, trying to wipe thoughts of anyone else from your mind so all you could think about in this moment was his fat cock buried deep inside your tight heat.
“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted, his eyes mapping out your body as he worked himself against you, “Feel so good.”
Your breasts bounced with the intensity of his thrusts as he felt your inner walls quivering around his cock, already feeling another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil inside you impossibly tight as you tried to remember to breathe. Your vision hazy as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded, white dots blanking your vision as you shook beneath him.
“You gonna cum again already? Greedy fuckin’ bitch.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a grin as he felt your fingernails dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shapes in their wake as a dull ache tingled against his skin at the sensation, “My cock’s better than your fuckin’ fingers, yeah?”
“Yes,” You hissed, your toes curling as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure. Your tight heat clenching around Bakugou’s cock as an usual sensation flowed through you, an intense throb in your core as you felt the unwavering urge to pee. Tightening your thighs around Bakugou’s firm body in an attempt to stop it from happening as wracked sobs left your body, your lower lip trembling as the sensation became too much. Too intense, too overwhelming as you allowed it to take over, your body crying out as you came. A clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs and soaking Bakugou’s crotch, his pace never once faltering as he fucked you through the sensation.
“Look at you, you messy fuckin’ slut” He howled in pleasure as he watched the liquid seep from your folds, “Look at your sloppy little pussy soakin’ my cock.”
“I’m sorry-” You cried out in embarrassment, feeling your heart pound in your chest as you saw his abdomen glistening with your release, “I didn’t mean-”
“What? You never fuckin’ squirted before?” Bakugou’s lips curled into a sly smile, his chest puffed out in pride, “Let’s see if you can do it again.”
Bakugou slipped a hand between your connected bodies to press four fingers against your clit, rubbing it frantically side to side as he tried to prolong the sensation, watching to see more of the clear liquid escape your heat.
"I can make this pretty little cunt do what I want. Wanna know why?" He leans in with a deadly grin on his lips, "Cause I own it."
You cried out as you felt the sensation flowing through you once more, a dull ache in your lower body as more of the clear liquid gushed from your folds. The sight made Bakugou smirk with glee, his fingers relentless against your sensitive nub.
“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He goaded, feeling your body trying to shy away from him as you withered beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, “That fuckin’ desperate.”
“P-please,” You whimpered, your entire body felt unbearably hot. Unable to think coherently as Bakugou continued pounding his thick girth into your core, his warm breath fanning your face as he hovered above you.
“P-please,” He mocked, tilting his head as he glanced down at you, “Please, what?”
“‘S too much,” You stammered, your hand reaching down to wrap around his wrist, trying to tug his fingers away from their assault against your clit.
The movement made him growl, baring his teeth as his hand moved from your clit, reaching up to wrap around the curve of your neck instead as he instantly tightened his grip against your jugular. The action caused your eyes to widen in surprise before your soft whines turned into hungry pants as you tried to gasp for air. Bakugou’s consistent thrusts into your sloppy hole made it difficult to think straight, your body fully focused on the sight of him above you while his hand wrapped tightly around your neck.
“Gonna fill that sloppy little pussy with cum, yeah?” You flushed at the suggestion, already feeling your inner walls fluttering around his cock at the thought, squeezing his girth as it created more friction as he dragged his cock along your velvety walls, his grip on your neck tightening as you felt your cunt clench around his cock in response, “You’re gonna look so pretty for me all full of my cum, Princess.”
A guttural groan spilled from his parted lips as you watched his eyes roll back, his thrusts stuttering as he came, bottoming out inside you as white hot spurts of cum splashed against your inner walls. His palms stroking along your exposed skin, sliding against the thin sheen of sweat that coated your body as he came down from his climax, humping a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt as he cherished the sweet way your walls continued to flutter around him.
You whined as Bakugou slowly eased his hips back, slipping his softening cock out of your quivering folds. His eyes immediately focused on your abused hole as he watched his cum begin to trickle out of you as it dribbled down towards your ass. Unable to resist reaching a finger out to collect the mixture, scooping it up as he slowly pushed it back inside you. Smirking at the way you tried to bat his hand away from your overstimulated folds, this only making him want to tease you more as he moved his finger to press against your inner walls. Swallowing thickly as he felt your body involuntarily clamping down around him in an attempt to pull him back inside you.
“Such a good girl for me, Princess.” He moved his fingers up to stroke against your puffy clit, laughing at the way you arched your hips away from his touch, trying to stop him from teasing your satiated clit, “Took my cock so well.”
You mewl in response, clutching your arms to yourself as you shake from the previous events. You looked so small and scared causing a sharp pain to bolt through Bakugou's chest. God he wanted you in his care even more now.
“You were even more perfect than I imagined.” He pulls you to him, trapping you in his embrace as he presses your face into his chest. Hand smoothing your damp hair as he hums lightly. His eyes catching sight of the Red Riot shirt he’d discarded to the floor, a thought occurred to him, one he cannot keep to himself, as another sadistic smile settled on his lips.
“Kirishima told me not to come over here, said to leave you alone-” He pulls you back so you can look at him, and gods the look you're giving him. Eyes soft and submissive, hazed over in mind numbing pleasure as you float off somewhere far away. Only Bakugou's arms are keeping you bound to Earth. “But I was right wasn’t I, Princess?”
You'll never be able to escape his gravity now.
“He just wanted you for himself.” His fingers feather over your body before he stands, guessing where the first aid could be. You clutch onto his shirt, eyes desperately glued to your new God as the fading sun washes him over in deep hues of red. The way you look at him makes his cock twitch, feeling the intense power he already holds over you.
"You'll let your King go." A growl as his fingers find your throat, you nod with fresh tears catching on long lashes as he steps away. Sobbing from his absence before he returns.
"Don't be a baby, I wasn't that far Princess." His voice all bite while his hands speak the truth. Calloused and scared fingers pressing ointment into the fresh burns tenderly.
“But you’re mine now aren’t you Princess?” He dots over the burns, rubbing the salve in gently, “All mine.”
He leans away from you, cruelty ever plastered on his smirking lips.
“Maybe I should show Red Riot what you look like right now, hah?” He pulls out his phone, going to snap a picture. You're hesitant at first but then move to strike a pose, wide eyes looking into the lens of the camera as Bakugou angles it to get the dark bruises and scars that now marr your perfect skin. "Fuck, I think showing him what a good girl you are in person would be much better."
“W-we shouldn’t-“ You mumble, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of your sweet neighbour seeing you like this, utterly debauched because of Pro-Hero Dynamight.
“Don’t be shy, pretty girl.” He coos uncharacteristically, almost mocking you as he watches your lower lip tremble, “I’m sure Red Riot would love to see you like this. Probably jerks himself raw to the thought of you.”
He eases you to your feet, sliding your shorts over your thighs as you hiss when they get to the fresh brand. Your mouth waters from pain as you look down at them. His perfect palm prints etched into your skin forever. You bite your bottom lip, wanting more from Bakugou who slips his jacket over your shoulders before putting your snow boots onto your feet. He makes his way to the door.
"Comin' pervert?" He asks before you rush to your feet, “Shall we show Red Riot what a desperate little slut his neighbour is?”
He wraps his arm around your shoulders, engulfing you in his mesmerizing scent and heat. You nod slowly, wanting nothing more than to please your new caretaker.
“Gotta remind that asshole who the fuck you belong to.”
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Gale Extensive analysis
Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). . As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in May 2021.
The majority of sources used for this article are in the game itself (this includes my Gale-solo playthroughs as well as a combination of the videos by munmomuu and selphie1999), and the dev’s notes provided by pjenn. Gale as origin is not taken into account since it’s not finished and has little Gale-related content. There will be little datamining content as well since pjenn said the game contained almost no gale-related notes (only in theWeave and in the Revelation scene).
The itemised list will show some instances of approval or disapproval as they are seen in the game. To make the reading of this article easier and shorter, you can skip them since they are basically the proof I use to sustain the introductory concept of each block.
We can infer a lot of Gale by analysing what he approves and disapproves of. Sometimes, we can even lightly infer some information from his neutral reactions, but let’s be honest: this way of analysing a char is pretty poor since it leaves everything to speculation. Neutral reactions can only be analysed by contrasting the same situation in other contexts, and seeing what other options Gale approves or disapproves of. With these considerations in mind, we can proceed to describe this character.
Disclaimer: this is a meta with my personal interpretation of the character, sticking as much as possible to the facts and leaving little to “desires” or “projections” of what I want him to be. If I do so, I will state it explicitly in the text for the sake of analysis honesty. I want to be clear about what is canon (facts shown in bg3 EA), from what’s personal interpretation with little proof.
Also, this list is extensive, gathering as much as I could in my many playthroughs, but I’m sure it’s not absolutely complete. Some details may have escaped me, but honestly, I believe that any new approval will be easily fit in these blocks once the pattern has been seen.
Understanding Gale by enumerating his reactions and approvals
What we can do is combine what we know and make our deductions.
---Gale
[[1]] The most notorious aspect we see about his approval is that Gale supports all actions that prevent, via persuasion, intimidation, or deception, the unnecessary violence and bloodshed. His attitude can be summarized as “the means (as long as they don’t kill gratuitously) hardly matter if the end is worthy”. He will always prefer diplomatic and persuasive approaches, but he can be flexible when his main objective is to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.
He approves of using intimidation, deception, or persuasion against Gimblebock, in the ruins of the Jergal Temple.
He approves of intimidation or deception against the tieflings that have Lae’zel in a cage.
Gale approves of diffusing the tension between Zevlor and Aradin, using intimidation or persuasion. He keeps neutral if Tav uses violence to knock out one of the two. Once more, this shows he prefers any verbal approach before heading into physical violence.
He approves of dealing with Nettie without bloodshed after she poisoned Tav. Gale even has an extra comment on the matter praising such an approach since he says he would have not been able to do it himself. This is also the first time we see a glimpse of his support for the philosophy of “giving people their own medicine”. However, it's a comment made in the heat of the moment. He ends up praising a peaceful resolution of the situation.
He approves of saving Lae’Zel’s life when she attacks Tav in the camp. This can be done via deception, persuasion or knowledge [medicine] as long as it spares Lae’Zel’s life when she is feeling the first symptoms of the transformation.
He approves of any means that allow a peaceful entrance to the Blighted Village.
Gale approves of using persuasion/intimidation/deception against the goblins to avoid combat with all of them and to save the deep gnome tied to the windmill.
Gale approves of paying for Oskar’s freedom or using persuasion/intimidation, and then setting him free.
He approves of intimidating Spike (the goblin who is torturing Liam) to cooperate with you.
Gale approves of persuasion/intimidation options to pretend to be a True Soul in front of Dror Ragzlin, avoiding combat with him and all his goblin lackeys.
Gale approves of the persuasive approach with the githyanki patrol, promising to help them to find this weapon they are looking for. It’s clear that any other approach will end up in a fight and therefore, bloodshed.
He also approves if you tell Lae’Zel to deal with her brethren while “playing along”. Again, the goal is to avoid fighting/bloodshed.
He approves of intimidating Karlach, saying that “I heard you are dangerous, so I am”. Since Karlach is aiming at the group, he approves of diffusing the imminent violence.
In similar fashion, Gale approves of intimidating Rugan, once he presents himself as Zhentarim, to give you the chest. This can be interpreted as a way to prevent further violence from a Zhentarim. Since there is no approval when you use persuasion to have the chest, one is more inclined to think this approval is about danger-control than curiosity. Or it’s just a bug.
[[2]] As it was said before, we can assume that diplomatic approaches are the best ones in his opinion. They not only have a positive effect in the short term but also are means that may guarantee useful resources for the future:
Gale approves of ensuring an encounter with Lorroakan in Baldur’s Gate via Rolan, establishing diplomatic relationships with what could potentially be a powerful useful ally.
Gale approves of promising to rescue the Duke Ravengard in the Moonrise, one of the most important figures in Baldur’s Gate.
Gale approves of managing a peaceful entrance to the Myconid colony. He highlights in a comment afterwards how useful it could be to have the Myconid as allies.
[[3]] Gale certainly is a great protector of life. Gale is against killing people just for fun, whether they are innocent or not. He will defend and respect the life of innocents without question, but he even will defend the life of dubious characters.
Gale approves of helping the tieflings to get rid of Lae’Zel because “she is dangerous to innocent people ''. We can see here that like any human, he has his own (reasonable) biases about Githyanki, considering them dangerous. Only after meeting Lae’Zel he recognises a good ally with the possibility of access to a cure to their tadpole problem.
He approves of convincing Rolan to stay in the Grove and defend it. This can be interpreted as gathering resources to reduce the bloodshed and therefore, the loss of life when facing the goblin attack. After all, Gale believes that “a wizard is a mighty weapon to have in your arsenal”
He approves of stepping in front of Arka whose crossbow is aimed at the caged goblin Sazza. Due to the anecdote he shares after, we know explicitly that his approval is due to the prevention of murder.
In his anecdote on the Yawning Portal, we know he prevented murder of three humanoids: a dragonborn, a drow, and a cleric of Cyric. The last two are highly morally dubious due to lore reasons, reinforcing this concept that Gale protects life whether they are innocent or not.
He approves of inviting Wyll to their camp and team. He is a fighter and a good resource to add in order to protect the team’s life.
He also approves of helping Zevlor when he comments about the Blade of Frontier’s plan of killing the goblin leaders.
He approves of helping the tiefling called Guex to improve his technique with the sword. More chances for him not to lose his own life.
Approves of helping Auntie Ethel when she's confronted by Mayrina’s brothers when Tav’s perception check fails. This is because neither Tav nor Gale perceived her as a Hag until the brothers called her such.
Gale approves saving Mayrina from the hag’s clutches. If Tav deals with the Hag, accepting her power and saving Mayrina, Gale will remain neutral (he is displeased with sparing the hag, but it’s nullified with the fact that Tav ended up rescuing Mayrina.) He will disapprove of giving Mayrina to the hag and accepting her powers instead. He is always approving of saving Mayrina’s life and killing the Hag, saving more potential innocents in the future. He explicitly says that hags should be extinct due to their malice.
He approves of avoiding a fight by convincing the man to let the party pass into the Zhentarim hideout.
He approves of saving Rugan’s life in the hideout. This reinforces again the concept that Gale values life including the morally dubious ones’.
Gale approves of saving Benryn’s life, the man screaming during the fire in the inn at Waukeen’s Rest.
Gale approves of accepting to rescue the Duke Ravengard, and probably saving his life.
Gale approves of saving the deep gnome in the windmill without asking compensation, just for the sake of saving his life.
Gale approves of attacking the goblins that are throwing stones to the caged bear. (He does it whether he knows that bear is Halsin or not)
Gale approves when Tav shields their memory and denies the access of the location of the grove to Minthara.
Gale approves of killing Minthara, the greatest danger for the tieflings and all lives in the Grove.
Gale approves of killing the Duergar slavers Gekh Coal and his company.
He approves of killing the dying hyena which is giving birth to a gnoll. This is a way to protect innocent lives in the long term.
He approves of using the tadpole against Flind, commanding her to devour the other gnolls. Gale approves again if Tav orders her to kill herself.
He approves of helping Baelen from escaping the trap of poisonous inflammable flowers he is surrounded in the Underdark.
[[4]] He dislikes greed and likes offering help without asking for a reward, just for the sake of helping.
Gale approves of helping Zevlor with the refugee situation.
Gale approves of incorporating Wyll in the group and of helping to get rid of the problems of the grove.
Gale approves helping Alfira in composing her song.
Gale approves of saving the tiefling kid Mirkon from the harpies.
Gale encourages Tav and approves of meddling into Mayrina's troubles when they see her being mistreated by the Hag.
He disapproves of asking for compensation after saving the deep gnome at the windmill. Gale approves of saving him and telling him “you owe me nothing”.
[[5 ]] He has a consistent approval of treating kids in a compassionate and forgiving way. There is a line he says after Arabella’s scene that sums up his position with kids (and adults too): “She was not innocent, but that doesn’t mean she is guilty.”
Gale disapproves of not interfering in Meli’s situation, the tiefling child who stole Barth’s medallion. Using intimidation against Barth at this moment doesn’t give approval penalties. Not doing anything does.
When Tav’s perception prevents them from being pickpocketed by one of Mattis' associates, the child immediately starts crying. Gale Approves of telling this child “Relax. I won’t get angry. You didn’t manage to steal anything from me”.
He approves of telling Arabella's parents that the druids overreacted. This approval is explicitly explained later by gale: one should be more kind and forgiving with the transgressions of youth. Here there is a bit of self-projection of Gale on the situation.
He approves of saving Arabella with active persuasion/intimidation. He disapproves of not doing anything during the tense situation with Teela.
He approves of choosing the option “Only a monster would threaten/kill a child” when speaking with Kagha the first time.
Gale approves of helping Mirkon. He disapproves of scaring him.
Gale approves of telling “I’m sorry for your loss” to a goblin kid whose parents were killed by the adventurer they are kicking.
[[6]] He is an animal lover in general, so treating animals in a good way will always earn his approval.
We know he has a cat. When he was a child, he used to have a Tressym (winged cat).
He approves of convincing Scratch of joining the camp via speak with animals.
Gale approves of petting Scratch.
Gale approves of leaving the cave of the Owlbear mother and her cub without combat. Or he approves if Tav can speak with animals and convinces her not to kill them.
After killing the owlbear mother, Gale approves of sparing the owlbear cub’s life.
Gale approves of convincing the goblin Krolla to hand over the Owlbear cub. Paying for it will not earn his approval.
Gale approves of feeding the owlbear cub at the camp. However, Gale will state that it's a dangerous pet. Gale approves of feeding the owl afterwards, offering a funny phrase that may be more meaningful for his character: “The hand that feeds is the hand that’s loved, now he wont leave your side”. I personally found it funny since he is the char that Tav is feeding with artefacts.
Gale approves of petting the owlbear.
Gale approves of attempting to heal the Owlbear cub in camp.
He disapproves of shooing the Owlbear cub.
Gale approves of freeing the spiders in the goblin camp. This can be interpreted as well as a tactical advantage for the battle.
Gale disapproves of suggesting to the goblins to use sharp stones at the caged bear so they can inflict more damage. He also disapproves again if Tav joins them in throwing stones.
He approves of helping the bear to attack the goblins. (This happens whether Gale knows that the bear is Halsin or not)
Gale approves of leaving flowers at the grave of the dog Myrna in the Underdark.
[[7]] Therefore it is only natural to see that he disaproves of animal cruelty
He disapproves of kicking and killing the squirrel Timber when entering the Grove.
He disapproves of prodding to death the bird that Nettie was healing
He disapproves of killing the owlbear cub once the mother was killed.
Gale disapproves of suggesting the goblin kids to use sharp stones to hurt the caged bear.
He disapproves of Tav throwing stones at the bear.
Gale disapproves of attacking the owlbear cub once it went to the camp.
[[8]] Since life is valuable for him in general, he will always disapprove of gratuitous killing, murder, and bloodshed. In short, he disapproves of unnecessary death.
Gale disapproves of asking the fishermen to hand over their values. This situation ends up in bloodshed.
He disapproves of joining Lae'Zel against the Tieflings that had her caged.
Gale disapproves of not helping Zevlor, knowing the tieflings will be massacred by the goblins.
He disapproves of telling Rolan to leave the grove before the arrival of the goblins. Without this wizard the tieflings have more chances of failing at the resistance.
He disapproves of helping the goblin Sazza to escape. This will guarantee that Minthara knows the location of the Grove.
He disapproves of telling Zevlor that Tav won’t help the Blade of Frontiers against the imminent massacre of the tieflings.
He disapproves of not doing anything to help Arabella
He disapproves of Tav ignoring his need for artefacts because “there is more at stake than his own meager life alone”. He disapproves of this decision that puts many innocents in danger, but he keeps appealing to Tav’s good side, encouraging them to do the “right thing”.
He also disapproves of killing Crusher when he is begging for his life after the “pungent poetic justice” of kissing Tav’s feet.
Gale disapproves of killing Rugan in the Zhentarim hideout when Zarys orders to.
Gale disapproves of killing Ellyka, the tiefling who was watching the githyanki patrol from a distance.
He disapproves of opening the gate for the goblin raiders.
Gale disapproves of joining the goblins in massacring the tieflings. During the party he will attempt to leave the group. Only a high persuasion or insight roll will keep him in the group. It requires a DC 15.
Gale disapproves of helping Glut to destroy Spaw, the peaceful leader of the current Myconid colony. Doing this will end up in the massacre of the Myconid.
He disapproves of abandoning Baelan surrounded by poisonous inflammable flowers in the Underdark.
[[9]] He doesn’t like gratuitous humiliation or torture of any kind, whether psychological or physical. Once more, it’s shown that he disapproves gestures of cruelty and unprovoked violence.
Gale disapproves of telling Elegis (tiefling on the gates of the grove) that she is pathetic for fearing the goblins.
He disapproves of pocketing the ring when Mattis (tiefling kid) asks you to choose heads or tails.
He disapproves of using intimidation against Pardima, threatening her to break her neck (she is the tiefling who is paralysed inside the small building).
He disapproves of smashing Alfira’s lute
He disapproves of telling Kagha that Arabella’s death was “quite a show”. This is related to Astarion’s concept of “fun” that Gale will bring into conversation subtly in an option during Mayrina’s quest.
Gale disapproves of psychologically torturing Lorin (wood elf trapped in Ethel’s house).
When Tav kills Connor, Gale will lament about the tragedy of the couple. He is sad for the story of lovers being over due to the whim of a hag.
Gale disapproves if after reviving Connor, Tav decides to keep him as a combat pet.
In the post before the Goblin camp, Gale disapproves of Tav smearing dung on their face. Gale has a sense of confidence and pride that he prefers to see in Tav as well. He is neutral if Tav throws dung against the goblin guards. On one side he probably approves of Tav’s pride transpired in that rebel action, but on the other hand, he doesn’t approve of provoking the goblins, since in the beginning of the scene he warned Tav that they come by the dozen, implying that they likely will be outnumbered.
He disapproves of obeying Crusher and kissing his foot, or licking it as a prank.
Gale disproves of volunteering to torture Liam inside the defiled temple of Selune.
Gale disapproves of siding with the Goblins in general. Once done, in the party, he disapproves of telling him to stop whining after the massacre when he is sharing his regret of having participated in it. He answers "You really are heartless".
(Datamining) In the Duergar encampment, Gale disapproves of killing the slave gnomes under the command of the True Soul Nere.
[[10]] Despite showing some signs that he may support some bias commonly spread in Faerun, he keeps open minded and quite self-critical about his own slips on different races.
During the meeting he uses the Rashemi group as a synonym for lack of intelligence. I personally see this as a foreshadowing detail of future frictions with Minsc.
He approves killing Lae’Zel in the cage if Tav supports the fact that she is dangerous to innocent people. This situation may suggest that Gale considers most Githyanki as dangerous (acceptable conception lore wise)
When talking with Aaron (the halfling merchant of the grove), Gale disapproves of saying that the tieflings can deal with their problems because they have devil powers.
Despite goblinoid races being despised by most people in Faerun, Gale recognises their powers, culture, magic, and ability to bond and love.
He is a human of Waterdeep, his human-centric vision slips in his line (with a non-human Tav): “Now more than ever, it's important to recall what makes us human. Well- you know what I mean.” He immediately noticed it and acknowledged it.
[[11]]He is against slavery:
Gale disapproves if Tav pays Oskar’s freedom to get him as a slave. He approves of leaving him free by any means: paying for him, intimidation, or persuasion.
Gale disapproves of helping Gekh Coal (Duergar) to find the slave gnome who stole the boots in the Underdark.
Gale disapproves of handing over Astarion to Gandrel. This action can be interpreted as a way to not support slavery (because the story of Cazador), even though a better interpretation is related to Gale’s abandonment issues (see bellow).
(Datamining) In the Duergar encampment, Gale approves of helping Beldron in using the explosives to get free of the Duergar slavers.
[[12]] There are several elements related to acceptance, forgiveness, compassion, kindness and acknowledging of mistakes deeply entangled in his character. Gale wants these values for himself as well as for others. Examples of this can be seen in the following approvals:
[[12a]] Acceptance: of his persona, which means respecting his privacy, boundaries, and needs
[Privacy/Boundaries] He disapproves of every use of the tadpole on him. He has been more than clear from the first moment about his privacy and secrets, promising that he will eventually share, given the circumstances (he clearly leaves open the possibility of trusting in Tav and never denies having secrets). This behaviour of him is also understood later not as a whim but as part of his abandonment issues: he explicitly says several times that “some truths are more difficult to share than others”. We need to remember that his secret is directly entangled with Mystra, her abandonment, and the mistake of the orb. See the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Abandonment Issues" for further interpretation.
[Privacy/Boundaries] During the scene of the stew, he disapproves of using the tadpole again. He attempts to leave the group for the breach of trust. A persuasive or insightful comment will keep him in the group, excusing the natural mistrust in Tav (Gale will always respond better to reasoning and negotiations than anything else). Once more, Gale forgives Tav’s intrusion.
[Privacy/Boundaries] During the death protocol, he approves of telling him that he can keep his secrets until he is ready to share them, despite the many questions that the whole event arose.
[Privacy/Boundaries] During the scene of Loss, he approves of letting the topic of the loss rest. However, at this point, even if Tav keeps pushing, Gale will approve and will share a bit more about his folly with Mystra.
[Needs] He approves of Tav with each artefact he receives. This can be understood as an action of caring for Gale and his life as well as for preventing the death of innocents.
[Acceptance] Accepting to share the experience of the Weave with him is key in his relationships with Tav. Magic equals Weave, and Magic is his life, so he is sharing in that moment a strongly meaningful part of him with Tav. Acceptance of the event is a direct acceptance of Gale as a person for a future deep friendship or romance.
[Acceptance] If Tav is a Wizard or a Cleric of Mystra, Gale approves the praise options: "I quite agree. There is no greater deity than Mystra" and “Praise be that Mystryl was reborn as Mystra.” Despite the abandonment, Gale still remains a great devotee of her, and accepting her is an indirect way to accept a big part of his own life.
[Acceptance] He approves even more if this acceptance has romantic connotations (this means, options of kiss/holding hands in the Weave or “more than friends” during Loss).
[Acceptance] When Tav resurrects Gale, he doesn’t approve the resurrection per se, but the “welcome back” comment, implying that he values the action a bit more when Tav is glad for his own persona to be back.
[Forgiveness] He will approve acceptance of his own persona and forgiveness of his secrecy after the party.
[[12b]] Forgiveness for others: He approves of forgiving kids [5] or all those adults who show honest regret by their past mistakes. This can be understood as a projection.
When Tav first meets Gale, he states he is a reserved person. He disapproves of the use of the tadpole even though he understands the drive of curiosity. He forgives Tav who acknowledged their mistake.
Gale approves of telling Arabella’s parents that the Druids overreacted, that Arabella “is just a child”. Once Arabella is saved, Gale will explicitly emphasise later about forgiving the transgressions of youth.
After finding evidence that Kagha is working with Shadow Druids, Gale approves of exposing her while making her see her own mistakes. A path to redemption is granted with this action, and this resounds deeply in Gale.
Gale himself wishes Mystra’s forgiveness for the mistake done in his youth. Despite wishing for it, he is quite resigned to never receiving it.
If Tav uses the parasite powers a third time despite having agreed with the rest of the group not to, Gale will approve a sincere apology, as long as Tav acknowledges the mistake. He will answer that he knows about weaknesses and will recommend to stay stronger from that moment on. He forgives and passes no judgement, understanding Tav’s mistakes due to his own experience (to be fair: all companions with the exception of Astarion forgive this slip into the powers of the tadpole).
Taking Silvanus' idol may potentially end up in killing the druids. If this is the case, Gale will be affected by this tragedy since it was a lot of unnecessary death he doesn't like [1,3,8], and shares the burden that those deaths caused him since he suggested taking the idol as last resort, expecting to save more lives due to his bomb-condition. We see that he wants to survive and protect others from the orb, but not “at whatever cost”. He reflects with a heavy heart “at what cost” a greater evil was prevented. He speaks about “what’s wrong is wrong”, implying with all this scene that forgiveness, in this case, may be not possible.
He approves of being forgiven/supported in his friendship/romance despite the mistake of holding the information of the orb and Mystra. At this point it is strange that Tav has not realised all of this alone, unless the player had a bug that prevented them from seeing Gale’s scenes. (Gale’s scenes suffer the lowest priority in the triggering list).
When Gale explicitly apologies in the morning after, he approves of telling him “It's fine. In the end I'm glad you told me.” The other options have no approval penalties. Once more it’s seen that a compassionate, forgiving attitude increases his approval. This can be seen as a direct result of his traumatic and constant present fear for abandonment (Check the post of "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Abandonment Issues").
[[12c]] Compassion and kindness: He approves of most actions based on compassion and kindness (on him or others) and disapproves quick judgement on others when the whole story related to them is not completely known.
Gale disapproves of telling Arabella's parents that the situation is their fault. This can be interpreted as a quick judgement when they still did not listen to the other side.
After saving Arabella, Gale has a special comment related to the “transgressions of the youth”, about mistakes, and about innocence and guilt.
In Waukeen’s rest, Gale is neutral about keeping the dowry as a payment, but he approves of giving it to Benryn (the man rescued from the fire who found his wife dead). This could be considered a gesture of compassion.
He approves of most compassionate options when he is speaking of Mystra during the scene of Loss. It doesn’t matter if Tav doesn’t understand the whole situation; he always appreciates receiving support.
Instead, he disapproves if Tav considers arrogance as the cause for his pain and loss (later we will know his folly was not because of arrogance but because of young love/devotion). He doesn’t approve judgement in this instance (since the whole story has not been said yet) but he will not disapprove Tav’s judgements later during the scene of the Revelation, where he receives the most aggressive words without approval penalties.
Curiously, during the goblin party, he explicitly says that these two aspects of his persona (compassion and kindness) are affected by the shadow within (the orb) and the shadow without (the revealed Evil-Tav).
[[13]] Gale is a man of the City who indulges in the fine pleasures that urban life and some degree of privilege can offer. This is quite reasonable in terms of lore, since he is from Waterdeep, where humans hold the political and social power, plus his wizard profession. Wizards tend to come (even though it’s not exclusive) from high income families or from nobility since wizardry studies are quite expensive:
He comments about the hardness of the wilderness.
He missed the civilisation: soft beds, home cooked meals, minstrels, and scented baths.
Gale approves of giving Oskar (the slave painter in the Zhentarim hideout) 200 gold to fight the “discomforts of the road”. He is the only companion who approves this action.
Gale disapproves of participating in the pain ritual with Abdirak. I personally prefer to interpret it in relation to his dislike for evil entities, but it can be also interpreted as a statement: pain “is not his cup of tea”.
In the same way, during the Weave, he disapproves of the image of being kicked in the gut.I know this should be common sense: if someone kicks you, you disapprove. The detail I see here is that, judging by his reaction, it seems to hurt him more than the image of the severed head. Maybe he has an extra sensibility to pain as the result of living with the orb stuck in his chest. The orb seems to be an ever present fear/pain (one can assume pain due to the extreme facial gesticulation in Gale when the process of absorption happens)
[[14]] He may disapprove of worshipping dubious or evil gods. This seems coherent since Mystra is a neutral good entity.
Gale disapproves of participating in the pain ritual with Abdirak. He explicitly says that pain is not “his cup of tea”, but it’s possible to interpret this scene as a disapproval to worshiping evil gods. Loviatar is one whose followers offer pain to celebrate her. In all options of this dialogue Abdirak explicitly says this is a ritual to offer pain to Loviatar, so it can be understood as a form of worshipping her in the moment.
Gale disapproves if Tav accepts to be a Chosen of Booal.
He approves of Tav claiming that they don’t need of Booal’s powers, “I'll just kill you and claim it for myself”
When Shadowheart confesses being a worshipper of Shar, Gale will share a comment that displays his discomfort.
Gale approves of purging the evil in the dying hyena when a good-aligned Cleric blesses them.
[[15]] Gale is a scholar, and therefore, quite an open-minded char, who advocates for unconventional ways to solve problems:
He approves of considering the Creche solution for their tadpole’s problem, incorporating a githyanki to their group.
Gale approves of considering Gut the Priestess as another option.
Despite his years studying The Arts, he is not judgemental or dismissive to Warlock/Cleric/Paladin Tavs who acquired the ability to cast magic thanks to the gift granted by superior entities.
Gale approves of saying “Then fix it, or die at my hand” to Raphael, quite an aggressive option for his usual style.
Gale suggests outsmarting Raphael; his logic is reasonable: these tadpoles are powerful and unusual, and Raphael probably wants them instead of their souls. If he is right, a good deal can be established. He knows that cambion’s deals tend to be unfair but he wants to exploit the fallible (human) side of Raphael for their benefit.
He is neutral when accepting the solution offered by the Hag. He probably doesn’t disapprove completely because, like a good scholar, he is waiting for the empirical result. He knows beforehand that Hags are twisted and evil entities that hardly could give them a good deal. In this case, he is not even proposing to outsmart her.
Gale approves of giving the wand of control of Connor to Mayrina so she can find a solution in Baldur’s Gate. Despite this is an unconventional way to fix this situation, I personally feel there is a bug around, since his following comment is more consistent with a disapproval.
[[16]] He doesn’t like rushed decisions without thinking about all the possibilities. He encourages logical and reasonable discussions, free of biases or misconceptions as a scholar does. This aspect can be also understood as a reflection of his own past mistakes. Taking the orb after Mystra’s abandonment was a rushed decision of his youth which made him pay a big price.
During Raphael’s scene, he disapproves of the option “I’ll do anything to get rid of the tadpole”. That fast answer would only cause troubles.
He approves during Raphael’s scene the option that allows reflection: “I need to think this over.”
He encourages Tav to not discard the option of looking for the priestess Gut so quickly. He knows how magic is called among the goblinoid races and how much they value healing for being a culture of war.
Although he disapproves of the intrusion into his mind with the tadpole during the scene of the stew, reasonable arguments using persuasion/insight can be enough to prevent him from leaving the party. He reinforces the idea that he “may have spoken in haste” and he has reconsidered to stay despite Tav’s transgressions.
[[17]] He usually disapproves of using unknown magic in an irresponsible or careless way. This can be interpreted as a way to prevent mistakes similar to the one he did with the orb.
Gale disapproves of Tav reading the book of necromancy or giving it to Astarion. The reader will have access to the “forbidden knowledge” tag. Gale thinks himself more adequate for it since he is wiser than before, his experience with the orb book has taught him a great deal. He approves of giving the book to him.
Gale disapproves of accepting the brand of the Absolute. In the moment Tav accepts it, they learn that it has a unique magical effect that only True Souls can notice. Gale suspects this magic may cause mind control on goblins. "Charged with magic? Perhaps that explains the ease with which these goblins submit to True souls."
He approves of being cautious with the powers of the tadpole once they start seeing that its usage has physical and psychological (dreams) effects.
He disapproves of using the tadpoles after seeing a dangerous pattern with the dreams.
[[18]] He approves of poetic justice, and he seems to follow the philosophy of “give others their own medicine” when he is attacked or harassed.
Gale approves of dealing with the situation with Nettie without bloodshed. However, Gale states that having been him, he would have handled it in a different way, recognising that he may have forced Nettie to pay with the same coin. “A taste of her own medicine is what she deserves.”
Gale encourages and approves of reinforcing a “pungent poetic justice”, making Crusher kiss Tav’s foot.
Gale approves of helping the Myconid in killing the Duergars. “Wicked killers deserve wicked ends”
[[19]] He supports or at least doesn’t easily judge acts of self-preservation, but not at any cost. This follows his line “one respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it”
Gale disapproves of keeping Astarion in the party after the bite scene. This happens if you use two options: “you can leave option” or “he won't hurt us”. Keeping Astarion is a danger in his eyes.
Gale approves of convincing/deceiving Lae’Zel not to kill the party during the night of apparent transformation into mind flayers. If those rolls fail and Tav kills Lae’Zel, Gale will remain neutral in the forced action that they had to take due to self-preservation. He describes the situation as “brutal” and shows pity and sadness for the tragedy. Then he asks Tav how they are doing with the experience: he is sympathising with Tav, not judging them.
Gale approves of dealing with Nettie without bloodshed but he states that he would have fought in order to preserve his own life.
When Tav speaks to Kagha after Arabella’s death, Gale keeps neutral to the comment “You protected your own without hesitation - my compliments.” However, Gale would only approve expressions related to calling out Kagha. Gale can understand the self-preservation sentiments, but his line is drawn when life is taken gratuitously.
Gale approves of pretending to be a True Soul in front of Dror Ragzlin and avoiding a fight when they are outnumbered.
He approves of being cautious with the powers of the tadpole once they start showing that they can endanger their own lives.
He suggests stealing the idol of Silvanus as a way to keep his condition in check (which is more than just self-preservation due to the massive destruction it may cause). If Tav killed the druids to obtain it, Gale shows regret. He embodies the sense of survival, but not at any cost. He suffers with the consequences, but he also endures them since they are the lesser evil. He prefers to cause the least harm possible if there is no choice in avoiding to hurt a side.
This can be better seen during the goblin party. The only arguments that Tav can use to convince Gale to stay in the team are those related to self-preservation: “We make each other survive” and “You don't stand a chance alone”, both statements that Gale can accept only after a high DC 15, but always regretting his need and the excess of blood.
[[20]] Gale’s secrecy about Mystra and the orb have a clear source: he has serious abandonment issues that can be easily seen in his most apparent “strange” approvals/disapprovals:
Gale disapproves of handing over Astarion to Gangrel, even though he dislikes and mistrusts keeping Astarion as part of the group during the bite scene. This is quite surprising since Astarion is seen by Gale as a danger.
Gale approves twice defending Astarion against Gangrel. If Astarion is not in the group, the first approval happens when Tav recognises that Astarion is part of their companions/friends (therefore, they care about them). The second approval is when Tav reinforces their loyalty to Astarion insisting that they won’t give his location. Although Gale will explicitly question if this decision was right, he secretly approved it (meta-knowledge that only the player sees). We can interpret this as Gale seeing in Tav a person who will never abandon someone they care for, even if that person endangers them.
During the scene of Revelation, Gale approves of not being abandoned/pushed away by Tav despite his “secrecy”.
This post was written in May 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index
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For Black Pop Stans, the Bare Minimum Is No Longer Enough
Black superfans have been erased from the story of pop for decades. Now, in looking for visibility and change, they’ve found each other.
By Brittany Spanos
Angela H. was marching in a Black Lives Matter protest in Hollywood on June 2nd when her friends pointed out something surprising. They’d spotted a man in black gloves, sunglasses, and a hoodie nearby in the crowd — and he looked just like Harry Styles, a pop star Angela has been stanning since 2011.
She wasn’t convinced at first. “Every part of me didn’t want to believe it for some reason,” Angela, 22, recalls. It wasn’t until she got a glimpse of one of his familiar tattoos that her mind began racing.
“I had seen figures like him at the Women’s March and protests against Trump four years ago, but this is specifically for black lives,” Angela says. “This is specifically for my life, for my community. Harry Styles is at a Black Lives Matter protest. This is something I wouldn’t have believed if someone had told me this two years ago.”
For Angela, being a black pop stan for more than a decade has been trying. Growing up half black and half Filipino, with a predominantly white community in her neighborhood and mostly white or white-passing friends, she sometimes felt like her connection to black culture wasn’t enough. As a pre-teen, she loved Justin Bieber’s music, which led her to stan Twitter — the constantly growing corner of social media where superfans build their online identity around the performers, shows, or films they love.
When she encountered another black Belieber’s quest to become the “One Less Lonely Girl” that Justin Bieber would pull on stage during every concert, she began to notice dividing lines in the fanbase. Why, she wondered, was it so rare to see him bring a black fan onstage for one of those onstage moments?
Eventually, in 2012, the owner of the “Black OLLG” account got her moment of being serenaded by Bieber. “I was like ‘Dang, somebody that looks like me and has my same skin color actually gets to be recognized in our stan culture,’” Angela recalls.
When Angela’s fandom pivoted to 1D in 2011, she began to feel overwhelmed by the online and in-person whiteness of the community surrounding her favorite group. She attended 17 One Direction concerts during the band’s tenure and often felt “unsafe,” in her words, in stadiums with few black or POC faces. At the handful of solo Styles and Niall Horan shows she has been to, she’s felt a familiar loneliness.
Online, where the identities of stans aren’t immediately legible, Angela could still sense an overbearing whiteness that allowed little space for black and POC stans. Through anonymous question sites like CuriousCat, she says, non-white Directioners would receive vile, racist remarks constantly.
“I didn’t grow up around a black community, so it was hard for me to understand how to respond to things,” she says. “I would just block it out. I genuinely didn’t know how to react.”
The group that Angela looked to for solace and a place in the world wasn’t always helpful. Young pop stars through the years have often stayed apolitical so as to not offend different factions of their fanbase, and One Direction weren’t an exception. Since going solo, Styles has remained a private pop star, with very limited social media use. When he began to pick up rainbow flags thrown on stage during his concerts, LGBTQ fans felt seen. When similar Black Lives Matter flags seemed like they were being ignored during his debut solo tour in 2017, black stans felt erased.
“I remember being angry,” Angela says, adding that Styles eventually posted an image of BLM posters that fans held up during one of his shows. “It was so bare minimum. It felt like he felt guilty.”
Angela remained on board as a fan of Styles, but as the protests seeking justice after George Floyd’s death began to spread across the country this spring, many fans like her demanded more from the stars they have supported. When Styles initially shared a petition on May 29th for the resignation and arrest of Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, who suffocated Floyd with his knee, Styles fans begged for more. A day later, the singer wrote a longer post about his own privilege and his desire to educate himself, promising to donate to bail funds for arrested organizers.
On that early June afternoon in Hollywood, Angela marched alongside Styles until she began to see him exit the crowd. Her friends encouraged her to say something, and one of Styles’ friends helped wave him down. When they were face to face, she told him about her experience at his and One Direction’s shows: the sea of white faces, her own developing sense of black identity, and the way she never felt certain that the inclusivity he preached was truly meant to include people who look like her. The masked Styles listened intently and gave Angela a hug before they parted ways.
“To see him out there….it was just great to feel seen,” Angela says.
For black pop stans like Angela, that encounter with Styles was a rare moment of visibility in a genre with a loaded history of erasure. “Pop” has long been a restrictive term that the music industry uses to exclude the black artists who have built its base, while those same black artists’ contributions are appropriated every step of the way. For decades, the overwhelming cultural image of what a fan of pop music looks like has remained the screaming white teen girl, an image based almost entirely on the de facto segregation of the early days of rock & roll. It adds up to a limiting and untrue representation of music consumption, perpetuated in part by differences in who gets access to expensive concerts and even more expensive artist meet-and-greets.
Black pop fans have fought to be seen for decades — by the artists they love, and by the rest of their fan community. The public’s expectations for white pop stars to be politically active, let alone to speak out on racial injustice, have always been low, but their black listeners have always pushed harder for accountability and action. In the process, many have found each other, creating pockets of supportive communities those fans can turn to in order to feel seen, and sometimes to feel affirmed in their own blackness.
Read the rest of the article here.
--
Source: Billboard
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BTS - Going Solo (Part Two) - Jimin x Ara
Contains: Angst. *Potential trigger warning for mentions of depression/mental illness*
Set a week following ‘Going Solo Part One’, Ara returns home and has to face the reality of how she has been feeling lately.
You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.
To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here
If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.
Content below the cut
Dawn was breaking outside of the window as Ara flew through the clouds; eyeing clusters of towns and cities below as the plane changed altitude. She held her phone loosely in her hands, glimpsing down at the single word typed out in the notes app, knowing she wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence.
Jimin…
Her ears were popping and her head hurt; a mixture of dehydration, lack of sleep and the changing pressure inside the cabin and she lowered her device with a sigh, tucking it neatly in her handbag as she shifted in the chair. She doubted she would be able to get any sleep before the plane landed, but it was worth a try. Her manager had reminded her to pack her padded pillow and she slipped it around her neck before reaching for her lavender-scented eye mask, blocking out the dim light and closing her eyes.
***
Jimin…
His name rang around her head and she fought the urge to take out her phone again. She knew what the unfinished message said; she hadn’t been able to get any further than that one word, despite the hours she had tried typing it out. The duvet was soft beneath her backside and she eyed her unpacked suitcase on the floor. One wheel was coming off and she would have to get a new one soon. She wondered if the suitcase was a metaphor for her life and stifled back a laugh, clutching her hands to her face when she realised it sounded more like a sob. She couldn’t cry though...she had already tried. Staring at the plain, white wall in her bedroom, she had spent the past half hour urging the tears to come; wanting to feel something, but the most she could manage was a half-strangled moan; the catharsis she so desperately needed never coming. Her eyes were bone dry and a little sore.
She twisted to glance at the clock above the bed and realised she wouldn’t be able to keep herself awake long enough to wait for him to come home. He was at the studio with Jungkook, working on a duet for the younger member’s new album and was bound to lose track of the time; it was inevitable. Ara remembered early in their relationship one time she had spent an afternoon cooking for him, reading the recipe carefully from an old book she had picked up second hand and measuring the ingredients in meticulously accurate amounts. It had come out a little burnt, but she felt proud for having made something for someone else. He had been late home that night and the dinner had gone cold. She hadn’t blamed him; he was still making music with the group back then and the younger members had invited him back to their shared apartment to play video games after dance practice. She had told him her intentions that morning but, it turned out he had either forgotten or didn’t quite believe her when she said she would cook for them both. He had always underestimated her back then but who could blame him? She underestimated herself too.
Ara realised she had laid down at some point during the past ten minutes but couldn’t remember doing it. The bed suddenly felt very big and very warm, the blankets thick and cosy and she allowed herself to close her eyes, just for a moment or two…
***
Ara grunted at the sound of the door opening on its hinges and opened her eyes. The room took a few moments to come into focus and, with some effort, she rolled onto her side towards the sound. Jimin’s head was poking around the side of the doorframe and she gave another tired grunt.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” He whispered, a shy grin fixed on his face.
She rubbed her eyes, watching as he creeped towards her, trying to be quiet despite her having already woken. He was holding a shoebox; a pink ribbon tied across the centre, and he placed it on the floor carefully. “What time is it?” She yawned.
“Just gone eight. I’m sorry it took me so long.” When he reached the edge of the bed, he kneeled onto the sheets, crawling across to where she was laying and joining her side. He smiled sweetly, running his fingers through the tips of her hair. “I like the purple.”
She gave another grunt in response, clearing her throat. “I thought you liked the pink?” Her voice was still gruff from sleep and she suspected her hair was just as messy, but he kissed her anyway, pecking her cheek gently.
“I like both.” He pulled away to look at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “I like you.”
“You too.” She murmured.
“Did you have a long journey?” He asked, running a hand along her back until he reached her hip which he held steady.
She nodded against the sheets. “I had to be up at four.”
“In the morning?”
“Yeah.” She confirmed. “We had a lot of luggage to check in.”
He shifted a little against the duvet until his knees touched hers. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really.” She mumbled, still feeling tired and achy from the journey.
“Do you want to see what I bought you?” He asked hopefully. She looked past his shoulders towards the edge of the bedroom where she could just make out the box.
“Shoes?” She guessed, eyes following as he turned around and slid gracefully off the bed, picking up the package and bringing it to her. She made an effort to sit up a little as he handed it to her.
Jimin grinned widely, his excitement obvious. “Open it.”
She hesitated before tugging on the ribbon. It came apart easily and she lifted the white lid carefully off the box, lightly fingering through the tissue paper to reveal the present. The shoes matched the ribbon and were just as delicate looking; the satin fabric shimmered in the light. She stared at them, as though transfixed.
“Do you like them?”
She looked up at him, head still groggy from her extended nap. Her headache hadn’t yet subsided completely and it took a moment to realise he had asked a question. “Why?” She frowned, not fully understanding what he had asked.
He shrugged easily. “I thought they’d look nice on you.”
She folded the tissue back over the heels, covering them once more before she put on the lid. “Thank you.” She belatedly replied. “I didn’t bring you anything.”
Jimin took the box from her and gently lowered it to the foot of the bed before joining her when she leaned back against the pillow. “That’s not true…” He shook his head, reaching forward to hold her body against him. He was silent for a few moments, stroking her hip, before he whispered. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes.” She replied, equally quiet.
“Were you lonely?” He kept his voice low as he appreciated her features; eyes drifting across her nose and lips and cheeks.
She nodded. “It was hard.”
Jimin’s heart seemed to sink at her words and he stroked her arm lovingly, moving along her soft, pale skin until he reached her shoulder where the edge of her white camisole shielded the rest from view. “I missed you a lot.” He admitted, moving forward to kiss her forehead. Her skin was warm to the touch and he wondered if she might be getting a fever. He pulled away lightly, observing the way her eyelids seemed too heavy for their sockets.
“I know.” She mumbled understandably, closing her eyes.
He gave a soft chuckle, rubbing her shoulder with his fingertips. “You really need some sleep don’t you?”
She nodded against the pillow. “Sleep would be nice.”
He spoke no more, watching her expression as she fell deeper and deeper into sleep, her chest rising and falling gently until it was barely moving at all. Jimin held her carefully, not wanting to leave her side but knowing it was too early for him to join her. Still, he remained, listening to the calming sounds of her gentle breathing along with the steady, lulling tick of the clock above the bed.
***
Jimin had finally fallen asleep some time after ten and judging by the deep, red grooves which lined his forearms, he must have slept deeply. The blinds had been left open a little and a stark, white early morning light filled the room, indicating he had managed a decent few hours. He wondered if the good night was thanks to Ara’s presence. The past few weeks he had found himself tossing and turning incessantly, having to get up once or twice to grab himself a snack or watch a little T.V while he wondered what she was doing; whether the time zones matched up or if she was just getting up, ready to make her daily appearance on a foreign talk show or driving to some arena for rehearsals. It took him a moment to realise she was not beside him, though an indent remained on the pillow. He looked around the room, noticing a few of the drawers on the far side had been left open; a few of his sweatshirts sticking out from the edge. Slowly, he sat up, blinking a few times as he observed the wardrobe at the foot of the bed was likewise opened wide. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought it had been fuller the last time he had checked. A few of her dresses remained, suspended on coat hangers, but there were a good few missing. Quickly, and with a fair amount of panic, he shuffled out of bed, pulling open the bedroom door and walking down the small hallway into the kitchen.
“Ara?” He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her seated at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea clutched between her hands. She was staring straight ahead, though looked up at the sound of his voice. He only just noticed the dark bags beneath her eyes, now she was bare faced. His eyes flickered towards the sink where her suitcase was tucked, flush against the cupboards. He frowned. “Where are you going?”
Ara looked away, voice empty. “Back on tour.”
He opened his mouth to respond before closing it, his chest sinking heavily at the realisation she wasn’t making any sense. He took a step closer to the table, dread coursing through his veins. She had been tired the night before, unusually so, but had seemed herself at least. He wondered what new medication the doctors had put her on and whether it was somehow messing with her head. “Are you okay?” He slowly asked, bending down to face her.
She sighed. “Not really.”
His forehead wrinkled heavily. “Have I done something wrong?”
She turned to look at him, their faces at equal heights and now he could see how much older she suddenly looked. When she didn’t reply, he continued, failing to hide his confusion.
“You just got back. Your contract is over.”
She shook her head solemnly. “No it isn’t.”
His heart sank. “What do you mean?” He whispered.
“I signed a new one.”
Her voice was calm and Jimin realised she was telling the truth, though he couldn’t quite process what was happening. “When?” He asked, a little higher than expected.
“Last week.” She murmured. “When I was in Tokyo.”
He looked her in the eye, forcing himself to meet her gaze despite the unsteadiness he felt in his limbs as he crouched beside her. “For how long?”
“Seven years.”
He shook his head in disbelief, hardly able to comprehend what he was hearing. There was no emotion in her voice; no sense of joy or excitement that would signal what she was telling him was good news. He found himself reaching for her hand, desperate to hold onto something that would keep him steady. Her fingers were cold against his; thin and delicate in his loose grasp. “I didn’t think that was what you wanted.” He eventually said, only just managing to get the words out.
She was looking at their hands, eyes fixed on the space where they connected, but she turned away, gazing out of the window at the blank, grey sky. “I don’t know what I want…” She admitted, turning back when he let go of her to stand back up; her eyes followed him and he saw them glisten in the stark light. “It’s easier this way.”
“What about moving house?” He asked, the hurt in his voice obvious. “You’ll hardly be at home.”
She frowned below her blonde bangs. “I’m not sure I want to move house.”
He shook his head, trying to stay calm. “You could have just said.” He shrugged, keeping his voice low. “Instead of signing a new contract.”
She was silent for a moment, taking a few deep breaths while Jimin waited for her to respond.
“I’m not sure I want to move house…” She spoke slowly, only realising as she said it that it was true. “Because I’m not sure if I want to be with you anymore.” Her own admission shocked her into silence though she felt no sense of relief as Jimin stared at her, silent for a long time before his lip trembled.
“Are you serious?”
Ara nodded slowly. “I’ve felt like this for a while…” She confessed. “But I couldn’t do it before.”
His eyes dropped to the floor, though his voice came out high-pitched and squeaky. “What have I done?”
The sight of him filled her with sadness and for the first time that morning she felt her emotions with clarity. It took her a moment to work out how to respond and when she did, he looked at her with tears in his eyes.
“It wouldn’t be fair on you...” She murmured, her own voice breaking. “When I’m not sure how I feel.”
His eyes darted back to the suitcase, a low whimper escaping his lips. “So you’re leaving me?”
She nodded, her emotions bubbling to the surface. She held back a sob, needing to say it clearly. “I think I have to.” Once the words left her lips, she finally let go. It was like a dam had broken inside her; one which had been in place for so long, and she cried openly, unable to hold it back any longer. Jimin moved forward, wrapping her in his arms as she clung to him, standing up to press herself against his body and hooking her arms around his neck.
“I love you…” He mouthed against her hair and she let out a sob, her tears dampening the crook of his neck as he pleaded with her. “You don’t have to leave.”
She shook her head against him, words thick with tears. “I do…I do!”
“I don’t want you to go.” His voice broke and she held him closer, squeezing his body.
“Don’t cry Jimin.” She whispered. “Please…”
He held her steady by the waist as he moved away, trying to look at her. “When will you be back?”
She shook her head again, looking away. “I’m not sure.” Her hands moved to her face, trying to cover it from view but he took them gently in his own.
“I can wait for you…” He moved with her as she wriggled in his grasp and held her face steady, thumb brushing her cheekbones, trying to get her to look at him. “I can wait for you!” He repeated, locking eyes with her. Her own were impossibly wide, glistening with tears, but she nodded against his palms. “Don’t give up on us Ara.” He whispered.
Her mouth quivered, opening and closing. “I need to think about this.” She muttered.
“I don’t care how long it takes.” He caressed her cheekbones again, wiping her tears. They were both trembling and she held him tighter, hands clasping behind his neck.
“And if I meet someone else?” She asked, voice wobbling at the thought.
He shook his head, continuing to hold her steady. “Do what you feel is right…” His lips moved to her wet cheek and he kissed it lovingly, lingering there while her body shook against him. Slowly, he moved to the corner of her mouth and she tilted her head, pressing her lips to his. Their mouths opened softly, tears merging as they held each other for a few moments, their noses brushing as they kissed. Slowly, they moved away in unison and she ran her lips across his smooth cheek before touching them to his helix, mouthing against his skin.
“Don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded.
“How could I be mad at you?” He murmured against her, slowly pulling away. When she looked at him, he was smiling, though his cheeks glistened with tears; both his and her own. He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “You’re the love of my life Ara.” He admitted.
Ara nodded dumbly, mouth open, feeling her eyes sting. “There’s never been anyone else…” She agreed, realising she was crying again when she tasted the hot, salty liquid on her tongue, though she didn’t try to hide it this time.
He let out a long sigh, allowing her a bit of space as he took a step back. “If I call you, will you answer?”
She hesitated, before nodding. “I’ll try.”
He looked up from across the small space, speaking steadily, needing her to understand what he was saying. “I want to know you’re safe.” He held her gaze. “Promise me you’ll talk to someone.”
“I have a meeting every month.” She explained.
“Sooner!” He pleaded, reaching out and taking both her hands in his, the urgency in his voice obvious. “Promise me you’ll see them sooner if you’re feeling blue again.”
Her eyebrows were knitted together but she nodded in agreement. “I will…” She gave his hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Do you have anyone too?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He dismissed, looking at the space where they were still connected; her small, fragile-looking hands knitted through his. “Please get better…” He whispered, squeezing her lightly in response.
“I’ll try.” She replied quietly, allowing him to let go as she bent down to collect her suitcase from the floor.
“You can always come home.” His voice came from behind her and she looked back at him. “If it gets too much for you…” He said. “I’ll be here.”
She nodded, understanding and knowing it was true.
“Where will you go?” He asked gently.
Ara wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, collecting herself. “To see my dad. I have meetings later this week...about my contract and the tour.”
“Does he know you’re travelling to Ulsan? Is he expecting you?” Jimin asked, wanting to make sure she had a plan.
She shook her head lightly. “No.” She admitted. “But he’ll want to see me. My brother too…it’s been two years.”
Jimin nodded, gesturing towards the red case. “Let me drive you to the station.” He offered.
She thought for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”
He walked around the edge of the table before she could protest and scooped down to pull up the extendable handle of the case. She followed his lead into the hallway, where he left the luggage on the welcome mat by the front door. The thick rug was pink and decorated with daisies; Ara had chosen it during a trip to a shopping mall shortly before her audition and it had sat there ever since, a reminder of the life she had led before. She glanced at it as Jimin edged past her, into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He came out a moment later, the shoe box he had gifted her tucked under his arm. Ara remained silent, watching as he placed it on top of the suitcase, balanced steadily between his body and the handle, before he opened the front door.
***
Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook
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Out in the Open. (pt.1)
Elsy + Got7
elsy wakes up to many texts and miss calls from the boys after the rumor breaks out, causing her to be in her first scandal.
I really hope you guys enjoy this post and of course let me know what you guys thought of it. your feedback is always appreciated!
[8th Member of Got7/Soloist]
It was early in the morning when Elsy heard loud knocking against her door of her apartment, causing the girl to wake up in a frantic. Sitting herself up quickly, she could still hear the loud knocks, letting out a huge groan.
Slipping out of bed, she quickly made her way out her room where she then heard her name being called out. “Elsy! Elsy, open the door!” She heard no other than Jackson yell.
“What is your problem-“ Elsy was cut short when Jackson barged into her apartment right after opening the door for him.
“Have you not seen my texts? Or calls? Have you not been aware of what’s going on?”
Elsy furrowed her eyebrows. “I just woke up!” She exclaimed. “What are you even talking about?” Elsy grabbed her phone that was set on her counter, seeing the many messages and missed calls she had. But not just from Jackson, the rest of the group as well.
Elsy was confused as to why all of them were messaging her. She even caught glimpse of her manager sending her a text too, with a couple of missed calls. “Why is everyone literally blowing up my phone?” She questioned, opening up her manager’s text first. It saying “we need to talk about this as soon as possible.”
And when Elsy finally read the message, she felt her stomach dropping from what the previous message was before that. It was a link to an article that showed a picture of her and Jinyoung, and with her hands already shaking, Elsy tapped on the link where an article popped up. “Oh no.” Elsy gasped out loud as she read the title. “This can’t be happening.”
Her heart was racing super fast now when she continued to read the rumor of her and Jinyoung hooking up with each other. It was uploaded almost an hour before Jackson had arrived, meaning many were aware of it. Elsy swallowed hard as she looked up at Jackson, tears already forming in her eyes. She felt devasted, overwhelmed, and didn’t know what to do. She’s never been in such a situation before, as her first scandal, Elsy didn’t know how to feel.
And she was even more crushed that it happened a couple of weeks before her first ever solo debut.
“Elsy?” Jackson called out, seeing the girl in some sort of trance.
Elsy continued to stare, spacing out as she thought about the article more. How could this have happened? Why was this happening?
She felt her lips quiver as Elsy slammed her phone down on the counter. “Why, why why?!” She exclaimed. “Why is this happening? Why now? Who could have possibly even done this?” She cried.
“It said it was someone anonymous that overheard our conversation.”
“How could I have been so stupid?!” Elsy pulled on her hair.
The sound of her phone ringing caused her to get startled. It was Jinyoung. And soon Elsy began to get really nervous having to hear him. “H-Hello?” She stuttered.
“Jiyeon.” He said coldly. “Have you seen what’s been going on? Your manager and I have been trying to contact you.”
“Yes.” Elsy breathed out. “I‘ve been asleep. I barely just found out.”
“My team and your team are setting up a meeting at your company. See you there.” Jinyoung hung up, giving Elsy no time to answer him. By the time of his voice, Elsy knew he wasn’t too happy.
“I have a meeting soon.” Elsy told Jackson.
“Are you okay?” Jackson questioned in concern.
Elsy shook her head. “No. This is literally the worst thing to wake up to. Everyone’s going to see me differently. And of course I’m going to be the one getting more attacked than him.”
The girl let out a defeated sigh. All while Jackson went up to hug Elsy tightly. She even wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly as well, happy that he was there for some sort of comfort.
Soon after Elsy was dressed, she made her way out of the building where her manager was waiting for her outside. Jackson came along, trying to give Elsy some support, and knowing she didn’t feel like being alone at the moment. Although she kept on insisting for him to go home.
And once she arrived, she was met with Jinyoung, who she could tell was annoyed when looking at Elsy.
“The meeting is starting soon.” Her manager said as soon as he spotted Elsy. Both teams went into the room to talk about the article. Elsy sat next to Jinyoung, fidgeting with her fingers. She was overwhelmed, never having to be in this type of position before.
She was going to be starting fresh soon and now that she was in her very first scandal, she felt as if everything was going wrong. Because even after the meeting is done, that article was still out there in the first place, and who knows who hasn’t seen it.
Both CEO’s of Elsy and Jinyoung’s companies came in and that’s when the long meeting began.
“Let’s begin.”
***
After almost an hour long of talking and agreements from both companies, they came up with a statement that was soon going to be released.
The two knew they couldn’t lie, which is why they went ahead and confirmed that the rumor was in fact true. But they didn’t mention it was in the past, and the two didn’t see each other that way anymore.
Right after the meeting, Elsy still felt a heavy heart. None of this wouldn’t of happened if she didn’t talk about her and Jinyoung out loud in public. Because you never know who could be eavesdropping.
When going down to the first floor of the building, she noticed Jackson standing with his back facing her. Meaning he was talking to someone, and as she got closer she noticed it was none other than the rest of her members. Seeing them only caused her stomach to churn.
Bambam was the first to notice Elsy and Jinyoung. “Hey!” Everyone’s heads turned to look at the two. Elsy hearing a frustrated sigh coming out of Jinyoung’s mouth. “What are they doing here?” He asked lowly.
“We came to see if you guys were okay.” Jaebeom said as they approached them. “What a ridiculous rumor.”
“Yeah!” Bambam exclaimed. “People these days come up with anything. Out of all things why this and why you two?”
“Noona, you look pale.” Yugyeom brought up. “Are you okay?”
Elsy slightly nodded. And there was no denying the both Jinyoung and Elsy looked a little off. “Are the both of you okay?” Jaebeom then asked.
Silence was all they got. Elsy looked everywhere but at her members. While Jinyoung kept his head low with his arms crossed.
“You guys are acting as if the rumor is true.” Bambam snorted. Again, Elsy avoided looking at Bambam. But her being silent about it, caused him to raise a brow. “It’s not true is it?”
Jinyoung exhaled deeply as he turned his head away. Jackson stared at the two, biting the inside of his lip.
“Oh my god.” Bambam whispered. “It’s true.”
All of them waited for at least one of them to deny but when a few seconds past and none of the two said anything. They knew their answer. “What the hell?” Jaebeom said. “It’s true?”
Elsy slowly nodded, already feel ashamed of herself as she lowered her head. “When? H-How? Why?” He said.
Everyone was in deep shock. Confused as to why they even did it in the first place. The two never saw them to be the ones to have any sort of relationship, especially with what they were being accused of.
“Doesn’t matter anymore.” Jinyoung said harshly. “It’s over and done with. We’d like to get past this.”
“And you.” Jinyoung said, whipping his head to look at Elsy. “Next time, try to keep your mouth shut while being out, yeah?”
“I get that you’re mad but no need to attack me.” Elsy retorted.
“If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”
Just what Elsy needed, after the two had finally made up, here they were arguing yet again. “You have it easy anyways! Everyone’s going to probably see me differently now because of this, but you, you can still go on living your normal life.” Elsy argued.
“You don’t have anyone to blame but yourself for that.”
It was in that moment Elsy wanted nothing more than to strangle Jinyoung on the spot. She hated this side of him, not caring about how she felt and honestly how he only thought about himself. Elsy was tired of constantly getting attacked by Jinyoung over anything situation that involved her.
“It was actually my fault.” Jackson spoke up. “If I hadn’t said anything to Elsy about you two. She would have never mentioned it.”
“And how did you find out?” Jinyoung asked.
“I overheard you two talking.”
“Great.” Jinyoung huffed.
There was silence between the group again, all of them taking in the information about their two members. Elsy only hoped this wouldn’t ruin anything or her relationship with them. She wish there was a way she could take all of it back.
“Where are you going?” Youngjae questioned Jinyoung as he began moving forward to the door.
“I’m done here.” He replied. “Also Jiyeon, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other. At least until this blows over.”
Elsy was a bit hurt from his words, but knew it was for the best. Someone could have had suspicion of the two and they were seen with each other after this. The girl nodded, staying silent again.
She continued to think about everything that has happened from the moment she woke up. It was all too much for her. But she let out a small gasp when she thought about something else. More specifically, someone.
“Bang Chan.”
#got7 au#got7 oc#got7 female oc#kpop oc#kpop oc au#kpop au#kpop female oc#female kpop oc#female oc#kpop female addition#got7 8th member au#got7 8th member#got7 fluff#got7 angst#got7 scenarios#got7 imagines#female additional oc#kpop additional oc
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12 April 2021 Additions to Reylo Fluff
These fics have been added to the Fluff lists located in the following lists:
Fluff Part 1 Titles A-G
Fluff Part 2 Titles H-M
Fluff Part 3 Titles N-S
Fluff Part 4 Titlez T-Z
Zombie Run by OptimisticBeth (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: During a charity run, Rey is relentlessly pursued by a zombie.) The Road Taken by gogoburritos (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey pulls a prank on her housemate Ben. She doesn't expect it to turn out so well.) Loose Change by spicytofuuuu (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: "I ate your pizza. It was a desperate move. I'm sorry. Not proud of myself. Here is $4." An Oh-My-God-They-Were-Roommates, They-Have-One-Single-Shared-Brain-Cell fic.) just say you love me by darthswift13 (AO3 2021 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Rey gets drunk on Saturday nights and confesses her true feelings for her roommate Ben, only to forget on Sunday mornings. Will Rey ever be able to confess her feelings when sober?) r/Relationships by elle_reads (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben's new roommate moves in just before a shelter-in-place order is issued. It's just the two of them—and Reddit, of course.) The Sublet by javajunkie (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey and Rose sublet their spare room to Ben Solo.) Knock Me Down by commandercrouton (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben gets a concussion thanks to Rey.) Love in the Language of Sweaters by SaintHeretical (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Corporate executive Ben Solo mocks holiday sweaters until he sees the delivery girl wear them.) You Need a Tutor by castles_and_crowns (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 28 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is an engineering student who finds herself struggling with calculus. Desperate, she goes to the math tutoring center on campus for help. Meanwhile, Ben Solo is a grad student who's required to work a certain amount of hours in the math tutoring center. When Ben reluctantly offers to help Rey with her work, a relationship forms between them that neither are expecting.) Five Times That Ben Saved Rey's Valentine's Day & How She Forever Saved His by AnneAnna (AO3 2021 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben makes a confession in his wedding speech: He knew he was going to marry Rey when he and Rey were 4 years old and she gave him a Valentine she made and colored herself. And 21 years later, he still has that Valentine.) Newspaper Hearts by Celia_and (AO3 2021 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: “She made her Valentine’s cards. She tore hearts out of newspaper and glued them onto used envelopes and painstakingly wrote each child’s name. She probably spent days making them. And you know what she wrote on mine?” He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says, so he looks down at her instead, and the hand on her heart and the tears in her eyes. “Ben: You are OK. Rey.”) When the party ends by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey gets wasted at a frat party. Ben finds her, puts her in his room, where she's safe. Rey wakes in the morning after Ben comes out of the shower and nakedness ensues.) Fleeced by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: AU where Rey is a mechanic and Ben is her grumpy client. Ben is car shopping and asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend so the dealer won't screw him over.) My Sandwich by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Someone took Ben's turkey sandwich at work, he is infuriated and eager for revenge, until he finds out it was Rey then those feelings no longer exist.) Sleepyhead by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben, a mere himbo, tucks a stray hair behind Rey's ear in class. He knows he deserves the hot coffee in her hand to be thrown in his face and yet he gets a date. ) When You Know It by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben finds out his roommate Rey has never had someone to celebrate valentine's with, so he sends her 25 roses, one for every year she's been alone, in attempt to make her feel better.) Port in the storm by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey pretends to be afraid of thunderstorms so she has an excuse to sleep next to Ben. Ben figures it out when he races home early after seeing thunder, fearing Rey will be crying alone curled up in a ball, only to find her totally chill and eating ice cream.) Neighborly by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey and her son move into a new apartment and meets her new neighbor Ben and his cute dog.) Tinder and Cinder by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey joins tinder after a long long dry spell due to her flatmate Kylo's derision, they argue about why and in a fit of jealousy Kylo screams out 'use me instead.') Traditions gotta start somewhere by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Christmas Tree vignettes of Rey and Ben over the course of their relationship.) All of my wishes came true with you by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2021 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Fantasy AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey works on a wishfarm for Plutt. One day after she's out of wishes, she catches the star of a man who wishes for an end to his loneliness. She pockets it and after a particularly rough day she grants it with herself.) Knot It by MotherofScavengers (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When Omega Rey’s heat starts early, the Alpha friend who agreed to assist her is nowhere to be found. When she unexpectedly meets Ben, the delicious smelling Alpha offers his help...and his knot.) It's You by SpaceWaffleHouse (AO3 2021 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben and Rey have been costars for years when the time comes for them to film their first kissing scene. Neither of them ever expected their soul marks to appear in the process.) Through the Years by castles_and_crowns (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 10 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo and Rey Jakkson meet on the playground as children under unusual circumstances and quickly become best friends. This fic follows them through the years, showing glimpses of their friendship as it slowly progresses into something more.) I Hate You by orphan_account (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben has been in love with Rey for two years and so when she storms into his office he finally decides he can't keep it in any longer.) In Small Packages by DyadamDriver (AO3 2018 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: It was then that Ben realised three things. 1. He had never had a cat in his life. 2. He had no idea what these little things ate. 3. He had a crippling crush on his neighbour.) ignorance of etiquette by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Regency AU, Quick Synopsis: Lady Rey Kenobi lives a life of pristine comfort and luxury on her family's estate in Chesire with her parents Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi and Lady Satine Kenobi. When they receive word that an old family friend, Lord Benjamin Solo, is coming to visit, Lady Rey is reminded of how he tormented her as a child. She decides that she will prove herself not the same girl she once was in more ways than one.) heaven in hiding by blessedreylo (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: They say it's impossible for a guy and girl to be "just friends", but Rey and Ben had managed to discredit that throughout their decade long friendship. What they both have is special, that people would often arrive at the conclusion the two were made for each other. He's her safe haven, her rock. She gives him a sense of clarity and direction. Ben and Rey know each other more than anyone ever possibly could. Therefore on Valentine's Day, their friends decided to secretly set them up together on a blind dinner date.) a quiet storm by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey gets off to Kylo Ren, a popular audio erotica account online. She hasn’t been on a date in so long until her friend Rose sets her up on a blind date with her boyfriend's coworker, Ben. They seem to be hitting it off and finding that they have a lot in common, but she can’t help but think that he sounds so...familiar.) key to the kingdom by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 12 Chapters, Princess Diaries AU, Quick Synopsis: Most girls get a drunk weekend in Vegas for their 21st birthday, but Princess Rey Kenobi gets the chance to rule the country of Alderaan. But the only way she can become Queen is if she marries a man in 30 days, or the throne goes to the selfish (and annoyingly attractive) usurper Lord Benjamin Solo. Will Rey be able to ascend to the throne or will it all just become a royal pain in the ass?) fueled by fire by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben annoys the hell out of Rey when he tries to write passive aggressive notes about where she leaves her stuff. Rey pisses Ben off by being loud and picking a fight whenever she wants. Being neighbors for the last five months has been interesting to say the least. Their little rivalry comes to a crescendo when their hate for each other turns into another kind of passion.) 1 April Fool by Maloreiy (AO3 2021 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: "Honk! Act like you know me! My name is Ben!" Rey sees the sign on the car when she pulls up to the grocery store, and decides to play along. The giant, surly man, apparently named Ben, is not amused.) when I look to you by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 7 Chapters, Harry Potter AU, Quick Synopsis: Best friends since Year Three, Gryffindor's Ben Solo and Rey Niima navigate their final year at Hogwarts. When exposed feelings and unrequited romance get in the way of their friendship, they wonder whether they'll survive the school year.) Dreaming of Hope by adamsackleriskyloren83 (AO3 2019 Rated M Complete, 2 Chapters, Canon AU, Quick Synopsis: Kylo Ren goes to bed one night only to awaken as Rebel Pilot Ben Solo. Discovering that not only is Rey his wife, but he is also the father of a toddler(s) son/daughter.) Talk Nerdy To Me by andabatae (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 7 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Grad student Rey is addicted to watching nature documentaries narrated by the mysterious Kylo Ren. In fact, listening to him recite animal facts is her favorite masturbation inspiration. One day, the poetry class she TAs for has a guest lecturer: Ben Solo, a large, cranky man with gorgeous hair, adorable glasses... and a very compelling voice.) Everything You Are by kereia (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Canon AU, Quick Synopsis: But the thing she loved most of all, the thing that she was downright addicted to, was the way Ben reacted whenever she touched him.) Eggplant Emoji by trasharama (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: A desperate Rey seeks refuge in Poe and Ben's spare bedroom. Ben didn't know she was a girl when he agreed to the roommate trial period--and now she won't stop sexting him? Climb aboard the Smutty McSmuttSmutt train!)
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This is not a blurb, this is a long but fast read, the final in the Core 7 series - JJ Knows, Rossi Knows, Penelope Knows, Emily Knows and now...Spencer knows. Not the prettiest writing, it's all just simple and fast, it felt more like if I was telling a story than writing one. Sometimes it do be like that. ~2.1k words (Yeah, I know, it was supposed to be a drabble...sorry. Spence was fun to torment.)
----
The pigeons were louder than usual, cooing atop the light posts, calling out to mates or for food. It was early Sunday morning, earlier than his normal time, and Spencer was waiting patiently for his friends to show up for a morning of chess in the park. He played a game on his own, back and forth with his own mind, nimble fingers dancing with the pieces. Sipping his coffee while he contemplated his next move, he glanced up at the people gathering around the outskirts of the park, the early morning joggers and the moms with their small children needing to run off some energy. He loved to watch the kids on the swings, rushing down the slides, their easy smiles made him feel joyful and light. Beneath a large oak tree, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, one he saw often on the weekends running through the winding trails of the park.
“That your gladiator friend over there?” Benny asked, sliding into the spot opposite Spencer and unfolding the newspaper in his lap. He was there to play chess with Spencer but he'd have to wait out the game in progress, it was the right thing to do. Spencer slid a few pieces around before acknowledging Benny's question and looking up again.
“Yeah,” he replied, eyes trained on Derek now, stretching beside a tree. “He runs here on the weekends.”
“Who is that with him?” Benny asked, and Spencer shrugged, wondering why his friend was so curious, or what it mattered. He'd been playing chess in the same place for years, and Derek had been running there for just as long, and they'd never once spoken to one another about it. Sort of an unwritten rule of the weekend. Occasionally, if their paths crossed, they would do the smile and nod, but this was their private time, the rare bits that were reserved for the part of them that still existed outside of the BAU. Still, he found his eyes drawn to the sight of Derek when he noticed another person standing and talking to him, standing a little too close to just be running partners. He couldn't see the other man's face, but the sinking feeling in his stomach said he knew who it was without ever needing to see the face. His mannerisms were unmistakable.
“That's my boss,” Spencer muttered to Benny who let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. He couldn't help it now, he had to watch. Slowly, he rearranged the pieces on the board, setting up his game with Benny, abandoning his solo game in an attempt to be able to peek at his friends, his inability to control his voyeurism on full display.
“They look awful friendly,” Benny remarked, folding his newspaper back up and shoving it into his bag. Spencer nodded and did his best to look only at the chess board as Derek and Aaron ran by, side by side, off for their morning run. It was lucky for Spencer and his racing heart that they had gone for a long one instead of doing laps so he wasn't subjected to more of his inability to stop staring until they finished and separated with a kiss goodbye, each heading in different directions. The rest of the day, while he sat and played friend after friend, he thought about how he would have to go to work the next day and pretend he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary.
Turns out, that was the easy part. Too easy. He thought he'd start noticing little things, ways they were intimate he hadn't seen before but now that he knew, he wouldn't be able to stop seeing except nothing ever happened. They were just the same Hotch and Morgan, butting heads and grouchy as ever. There was not a single indicator, not even a sideways glance, that what he'd seen had really even happened. By the end of the week he was starting to doubt his own eyes. He spent all day Saturday at the library, losing himself in stacks of books, and ran into Aaron and Jack on his way to check out some things for a conference he was preparing for.
“Uncle Spencer!” Jack squealed, shoving his arm full of books at his father in order to wrap his arms around Spencer's legs. Aaron stood back, hugging the books to his chest, and smiled at how happy his son was to see their friend out in the wild.
“I've never seen you at this library before,” Spencer said, standing and approaching Aaron who just shrugged and smiled.
“Jack said we've checked out all of the good books at ours, we had a few errands to run downtown so we decided to make a pit stop. Turns out it was worth it, Jack's taking out the limit, he didn't even leave room for me to get one this week.”
Spencer tucked a lock of hair behind is ear and smiled, feeling somewhat easier around Aaron than he had the rest of the week, now that he'd decided to stop looking for something that wasn't there. “What did you want? I'll put my good name on the line for you.” The offer made Aaron smile, though he declined, worried something might happen to the book and sully Spencer's reputation with the library. Another few minutes of small talk crept by before Jack was antsy to go to the park and play before lunch time. Spencer grabbed a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo before he left, intending to drop it on Aaron's desk Monday morning to give the man something to read for the week.
By the time Spencer was seated on his stool at the park waiting for Benny, he'd all but decided he'd fabricated the kiss between Aaron and Derek. The idea that they ran together wasn't so far fetched, but the kiss...he must have been sleep deprived to have seen something so absurd. And yet, it happened again, like clockwork. Same time as the last week, they met up and they ran side by side, smiling and laughing, and when they finished they did so with a kiss and smiles. This time they held hands for a minute in line for coffee at a little cart before they parted ways and he felt like he might explode. He wasn't sure why he was being punished but he didn't appreciate it.
This went on for weeks, each time Spencer thought he would finally see some indicator of a secret relationship at work but there was never anything, not even a hint. Derek didn't bring coffee in for Aaron, Aaron didn't call him into his office, there was nothing. It was starting to scare him. How could two people look so utterly in love one moment and show nothing to indicate that they even like each other the next? He wasn't sure how you just turned something like that off, but somehow they did, and he started to wonder how long it had been going on right under their noses. It became like a game, trying to catch a glimpse, keeping score. It gave him something to keep his mind focused. There had been one moment, in Dallas, where he thought he saw something, just a split second – Aaron had a migraine, they could all tell though he wouldn't ever say a word. He just sat at the precinct, a little more sluggish than usual, and worked through it. Spencer had been with him in the conference room, but JJ had come to grab him, to make a trip to the M.E.'s office, and he passed Derek on his way out. He turned around to see that the lights in the conference room Aaron was in were now off, though Derek had only popped in an out before going to speak to the lead detective and Spencer was going to count that as a THING. A thing someone in love would do for their hurting partner. Maybe it wasn't, maybe Aaron turned the light off himself, maybe they'd burned out, but he was going to call it a thing because it was thrilling to think he was on the inside of a secret circle now.
There were no more THINGS for a long time. And then suddenly it was Derek's birthday, and Spencer had shown up to work early. Aaron's office light was on, door closed and he could see two shadows behind the drawn blinds. He sat down at his desk and began working through his case files, he had three of them due before lunch time so he could spend the rest of his afternoon at a conference in D.C. He did his best to keep his eyes down when Aaron's office door opened and out stepped a woman he recognized instantly at Derek's mother, and he turned his chair just enough away from them that he could pretend he didn't watch her hug him tight and tell him she'd see him at dinner. That wasn't just a THING, it was a BIG THING.
“Good morning, Reid,” Aaron called from the cat walk as he headed back into his office, either assuming that Spencer had no idea who the woman was, or just not caring at all if he did. She stopped by his desk on her way out and visited with him for a moment, letting Spencer know that she remembered meeting him and that Derek thought the world of him. She told him that she was in town as a surprise for Derek's birthday, and asked if he'd like to come out for his birthday dinner at his favorite restaurant. He glanced up at Aaron's office, saw the man watching from his doorway and told her he'd have to check his schedule and see what time his conference was over. He felt his heart thunder in his chest, he was about to be found out, he would have to admit to knowing about Aaron and Derek, he would have to admit to watching them for months. Aaron didn't call him up, though, and he breathed a little easier until the moment he had to drop off his case files. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way for Aaron's office.
“Reid,” Aaron said, taking the files from the younger man. “I know that Fran invited you out to dinner tonight for Derek's birthday, and you are more than welcome to join us. Penelope will be there, if that makes you feel better. I only ask that you keep Fran's presence in town quiet until dinner, it's a surprise. I'm not exactly known for my inspired gift giving but I think I've done alright this time.” Spencer felt his heart stop, felt his palms get clammy.
“He'll love it,” he stammered, and Aaron let a soft smile drift over his features. He supposed he might need to have a conversation with Spencer at some point, but now wasn't the time, he didn't want the kid to be late for his conference and he had a train to catch. He watched as Spencer left and shook his head, the poor kid. Derek had thought it would be fun to mess with him, make him think he was watching something secret, but it was clearly stressing him out and it made Aaron feel guilty.
Spencer did decide to meet them for dinner after talking to Penelope who assured him it was fine and it would make Derek happy to see him. He thought maybe he would get confirmation that the two Dereks and the two Aarons really were the same people – the Sunday runners were the same as the FBI Agents, because at that point he was starting to doubt his own sanity. Dinner, however, did not allay any of his concerns, in fact it made them worse. Derek and Aaron didn't even sit side by side at the dinner table. He couldn't figure it out, but he was about to lose his mind, make a scene right there in the restaurant except everyone was smiling and having a good time and Aaron paid for the entire meal for everyone which kept him mostly placated. At the end of the meal, as everyone was saying goodbye in front of the place, he watched as Derek, Aaron and Fran all piled into Aaron's vehicle and he finally felt vindicated. There was that, at least. They came and left together, it had to mean something. It had to be a thing.
“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek called, leaning out of the passenger window before they drove away. He flashed Spencer that megawatt smile and Spencer thought he saw a devilish twinkle in the other man's eye. “We'll see you Sunday morning!”
He felt his heart stop, thought his knees would give out until he felt Penelope come up beside him and put her arm around his waist. “You know it isn't actually a secret, right?”
“What?” he asked, feeling like he'd just come from underwater, gasping for air.
“Just because they never made an announcement doesn't make it a secret, silly,” she mused, pulling him down the sidewalk. "It's just a thing." For the first time in months, he didn't feel like he was losing his mind. Leave it to Penelope to give him back his sense of order in a world of chaos.
#criminal minds#fanfiction#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#spencer reid#penelope garcia#mortch#hotchgan#its so fluffy
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All Heart and Beskar : Chapter 2
Synopsis - A bounty hunter turned bounty, you find yourself as the assistant to one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy, and his little green child with big ears.
A/N - This is long!! I’ve written and rewritten this chapter all week because there was just so much I wanted to do! I hope you enjoy it, and please leave feedback if you want!
Warnings - 18+, descriptions of violence and death.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
[7.7k words] Chapter 2 - Long Days, Dark Nights
dar’manda - Not Mandalorian (used in this context that the character is no longer Mandalorian). Udesii - Calm Down Hut’uunla - Cowardly
Mando had apparently gone to check your ship the morning after and couldn’t salvage anything from the burnt wreckage of your ship. That news had made you cry more. You think you must have spent the first week crying in the uncomfortable cot in the ship before you convinced Mando to buy a mattress when docked in Nevarro.
You’d been living with Mando and the kid for 4 months now. It had taken Mando a while to trust your partnership. A lone wolf for the majority of his career he was unsure of how it would work long term. Short term partnerships suited him better but there was something about watching you hunt the bounty that changed his mind. The two of you worked together seamlessly.
You also took a while to fall into the Mandalorians routine, but once in it you never wanted to leave. Mando ran a tighter schedule of bounty hunting than you had. Early mornings and late nights with little rest time took a while to get used to. In the beginning you were asleep as soon as your head hit the thin pillow in the cot, exhaustion wearing you out. Mando however never seemed to feel the fatigue. A few hours here and there were enough to recharge the Mandalorian.
You found yourself becoming more and more intrigued by the armored man with whom you now lived. You’d catch small glimpses of skin, a sliver of wrist here or a peak of his neck there, but never more than that. Mando was stoic and guarded. His armor just added to that. By contrast you were the opposite, talkative and loud. Where Mando covered up, you relished in not having too. Often walking around in the shirt he gave you on the first night and a pair of pants. Mando never made an indication that it bothered him, having you walk around half naked all the time, but you could never tell what he was thinking under that helmet.
After a couple of weeks you noticed that the ship's heating stayed on for longer, and a warmer blanket had been purchased. So you figured that he didn’t mind, and maybe even enjoyed seeing you dress like that. You both slept on the same bed but in shifts, often you’d go first, while Mando would fly you away from whichever planet you were on before coming down to eat with you in the hull.
Mando became more talkative as the days passed. His modulated voice became your favourite sound as he asked questions about your previous life as a solo bounty hunter over bowls of soup. Conversations were still brief but Mando would let you chat to him about anything and everything.
Mando had taught you how to fly the ship after one of your hunts went wrong and Mando had to fly you into hyperspace whilst you held a bunched T-shirt to his rib cage to stop the bleeding. You had argued that you would have figured it out eventually ‘as you did have a ship too once’. Mando had held off originally as it was the one part of his life you hadn’t gotten into. The quiet hours away from you in the cockpit, whilst you slept, allowed him to get lost in his thoughts.
Now the pair of you sat in the hull of the ship, the child asleep in the cot. Mando had been cleaning his blaster when you woke up, and you settled across from him to clean your knives. The silence between you was comforting, just the groans of the ship flying through hyperspace could be heard.
Mando watched you polish your knives, visor fixed intently on your hands. You worked the cloth into the flat part of the blade, buffing out any smears or stains until it shone in the dim light of the hull. Mando sat with his arms resting on his knees, back pressed against the ship's wall. He looked relaxed, or at least the most relaxed you’d ever seen him look.
“Where did you get them?” His voice broke the silence between you.
“My uncle made them.” You placed the knife in your hand back in its leather sheath. You turned the sheathed knife in your hand, carefully checking the leather for any damage.
“What are they made from? I’ve never seen you sharpen them.”
“Beskar.”
Mando moved towards you, reaching across the hull to grab the knife that you hadn't got round to cleaning yet. Your eyes flickered up to watch him. He picked it up carefully, turning it over in his gloved hands. He paused, contemplating, holding it in front of his visor. He tapped it against the vambrace on his left sleeve, a sharp singing note rang out. “So it is.”
You watched him, hand subconsciously tightening around the knife still in your possession.
“Where did you get the beskar from?”
“My Dad.”
“And where did he get it?” Mando’s voice was level, but you knew his body language well enough by now to know he wasn’t feeling what his voice portrayed. His shoulders were stiff, and the grip he had on the knife was tight.
You bit your lip, unsure of whether or not to give up this piece of information to Mando. Despite all this time, this felt too vulnerable to share.
Before you could reply Mando spoke up. “Did he steal it?” His voice was accusatory. You snapped your eyes to his visor.
“He didn’t steal it.” You swallowed. “He died. My uncle made me them out of something he owned. Something that would be useful to me.” You looked away, fiddling with the knife in your hand.
“That doesn’t answer where the beskar came from.” Mando leaned in, the soft light glinting off his helmet. He placed the knife down gently on the floor. “Tell me.” His voice was commanding, but softer than it had been.
“He..um.... was dar’manda.” You spoke softly. Mandalorians who had lost their way, their creed, weren’t favorably looked on by true Mandalorians. “He lost his clan. They shunned him, but he kept his helmet and….when he died my uncle melted the beskar down into these knives for me.”
“Why?”
“Why did he get shunned?” Mando nodded. “He showed his face… to my mother. Before they got married. She saved his life. He didn’t want to live without her, and he couldn’t bring himself to kill her…. So he left.” Mando scoffed.
“Hut’uunla.” Mando’s voice was low, his hands curled into fists. Your mandalorian was good enough to understand what he had called your father. Cowardly.
Anger wells up in your chest. “He was not a coward.” You spit at him. “He couldn’t kill my mother because she was pregnant.” Angry tears burn your eyes, you unsheathe the knife slowly. Anger burned in your chest, white hot and red. You toyed with the knife between your hands, contemplating your odds against Mando.
Mando watches you. He sat as still as a statue. He can feel the anger rolling off you, you had a wild look in your eye. You looked every bit the dangerous bounty hunter who he’d come to know.
He raised his hands, palms open and towards you. “Udesii...calm down...I apologise. That was cruel of me.” You were still angry but you knew better than to try to fight Mando. Even with two beskar knives.
“He wasn’t a coward, Mando. He risked his life over and over to protect us.” Your voice was quiet and thick with sadness. “He risked everything to save my mother.”
“I am sorry….” Mando trailed off as you interrupted him, holding a finger up to stop him from talking.
“No you’re not. You reacted how any Mandalorian would. It is not the way.” Your tone was sharper. Of course Mando would have reacted like that. No Mandalorian abandons his clan. No Mandalorian shows their face.
“Still he was your father.” Mando sat back against the wall, legs stretched in front of him. He crossed his arms across his chest. Silence washes over the ship again.
You start to vigorously clean the other knife, wiping the cloth up and down the blade in fast but rhythmic strokes. Usually this process would help calm you down, help to erase any stress but not this time. You could see a slither of your reflection in the blade, your eyes were glassy with angry tears and your cheeks looked flushed. You chewed on your bottom lip. You blinked back the tears in your eyes, refusing to cry anymore in front of Mando.
“How much Mando’a do you know?” His gruff voice broke the silence again.
“A small amount.” You forced yourself to meet the emotionless gaze of the visor. You wished you could see his face. “My dad only ever used it in small phrases.” Mando nodded.
“How did he die?”
“He was a rebel fighter. From Alderaan.” You took a deep breath. “He got killed in the clone wars.” Mando stayed silent for a moment, helmet slightly tilted to one side.
“And your mother?”
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She was ill. Nothing could help her.” You smiled weakly. “She was a wonderful woman but I’m glad she is no longer suffering.”
“The rest of your family?”
“Dead. They were killed when Alderaan was destroyed. My mother and I had left to find a healer.” You huffed out a short, callous, laugh. “Some tragic backstory huh? What about you Mando?”
“Parents dead. I was saved by Mandalorians. I became a foundling and now I’m here.” His answer was abrupt and emotionless.
“We’re more alike than I thought.” You smiled sadly at Mando. The angry tension between you both faded. Mando’s shoulders visibly relaxed as you placed the other knife back in it's sheath. You waited a bit before asking him another question. “Have you ever taken your helmet off?”
“Never.” His reply was short, not cold, but short enough to signal he didn’t want to discuss further. He got up, armor chinking softly. “Get ready. We’ll be landing in an hour.”
You went to get up, legs buzzing from lack of use, and you staggered forward. Mando steadied you, his gloved hand was warm through the sleeves of your top. You blushed, a different kind of warmth spread through you. “Oh...thanks.” He nodded but didn’t release his grip on your arm.
The ship jolted, dropping out of hyperspace, catching you off guard. You fell into Mando’s chest. You braced your hands against his beskar chest plate. His hands moved to hold the tops of your arms. You looked up at him, craning your neck to meet his visor. Neither of you went to move, choosing to stand still watching each other. One with wide eyes, the other hidden behind a mask. Your heart was beating fast, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“I really am sorry about your father, and your mother. I shouldn’t have said those things.” Mando’s voice was soft and quiet. You two were so close you could just make out the baritone of his actual voice. You felt something tug deep inside you. Oh maker.
“It’s okay.” Your voice was a breathy whisper. Your cheeks felt hot under the unwavering stare of the visor. “I… uh…” you trailed off, unsure of where you wanted to take that sentence.
Mando cocked his head to one side. You were sure he was studying your face. Again you wished you could see past the helmet.
Mando moved one of his hands, slowly sliding it up your neck. You held your breath, not wanting to move an inch and break the spell. The warm leather of his glove stroked across your skin sending shivers down your spine. Mando let his hand tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, softly tugging. You let out a small gasp. Mando lowered his head slowly toward you.
The cool beskar of the helmet is what you registered first. It was icy compared to your flushed skin. You jumped slightly, before relaxing. A Keldabe kiss. You closed your eyes, and allowed yourself to lean into him. You let out a shaky breath. You lifted one of your hands from his chest and rested it gently against the side of his helmet. You opened your eyes and stared into the darkness of the visor. You wanted to see his eyes. You wanted to see him.
The touch was innocent enough. No more than a friendly Mandalorian greeting, but it was so much more than that for you. You never wanted to move. Mando’s thumb was stroking up and down the side of your neck, coaxing the muscles to relax.
Mando moved first. Lifting his head and moving his hand from the back of your neck to cup your cheek. He softly ran his thumb over your cheekbone. Oh Maker…. Whatever fondness you had for the Man who saved your life had just tipped over a metaphorical cliff edge into a full blown crush. And you hadn’t even seen his face.
Mando broke away first. Stepping away from you, dropping his arms to his sides. His helmet looking to the floor. “We need to land.”
“Do you want me to fly?” He shook his head, he was about to speak but you cut him off. “Let me fly. I’ll quickly get ready and then you can sort the kid out.”
Mando’s head tilted to watch you, considering your offer. A low came grumble from the helmet. “Fine. He needs to be fed.” With that he turned and disappeared up the ladder. You let your shoulders drop as he disappeared. You felt over exposed and emotional. With a long sigh you stripped off your clothes and stepped into the fresher. A quick, hot shower helped clear your head. Reluctantly you turned the water off, and walked back into the cool hull of the ship.
You bent down to your bag and pulled out your winter clothes. This next bounty was hiding out on Maldo Kreis. Thankfully Mando had made you buy winter clothes when you’d been on Coruscant for a different bounty. You got dressed into your underwear, chucking the towel in the direction of the ‘fresher.
You were sitting in your underwear in the cot tugging on some thick socks when Mando descended the ladder from the cockpit. He stopped when he saw how little you were wearing.
“Sorry!” Came the modulated voice.
“It's fine...er.. could you turn around please?” Mando turned away from you, and you jumped down out of the cot, turning to grab your thick, fur lined leggings.
“He should be in the tavern in town.”
“Okay, is he alone?” You pulled on an undershirt, tucking it into your leggings.
“No. I don’t think he will be.”
“Great. And he’ll definitely be in the tavern?”
“I hope so. I don’t want to trawl this stupid ice planet.” You laughed. Mando hated all extremes of temperatures.
“Neither.” You bent down to lace up your snow boots. You finished getting ready, strapping the knives to your thighs, and walked over to the ladder. Mando turned and watched you. You felt a small flash of warmth as his visor followed your movements across the hull. You smiled at him.
“Where’s the kid?”
“Asleep. I’ll lock him in the ship.” You nodded and climbed the ladder and opened the door to the cockpit.
The little green gremlin child of Mando’s was inches from pressing a button on the console when you stepped over the threshold into the cockpit.
“Don’t touch that! Come here trouble!” The kid froze in place, turning its big eyes around to you. You gathered him into your arms, just as tears started to form. “Oh no baby, it's okay. I’m not angry.” His little mouth quivered so you cuddled him closer, Mando would probably kill you if you made the kid cry.
Settling the kid back in his chair, you sat in the pilot seat. Maldo Kreis loomed in front of the cockpit window, a formidable icy planet. You tapped in the coordinates to the only big town on the planet, hoping that would be where your bounty is hiding.
As you sat in the chair, your mind was in a whirl. What had Mando meant by that? It was so soft and affectionate. You tucked your legs up on the chair.
The keldabe kiss was a sign of affection between couples. You frowned. You weren’t a couple. You wracked your brain for more information on the Mandalorian greeting but couldn’t come up with anything useful. The way Mando touched you left butterflies in your stomach, and a wetness between your thighs. The gentle caress of his leather clad fingers turned you on more than you were willing to admit.
Flicking a few more switches on the dashboard of the ship, you began the descent into the atmosphere. Frost began to appear on the edges of the windows as you descended. Maldo Kreis’ landscape was mountainous and rocky. Snow covered every inch of the planet and there were barely any trees or vegetation. Flying low to the ground you found a place to conceal the ship. Mando liked to land the ship away from towns if he could. It helped with protecting the kid. It was only a small ridge of rocks but it would hide the ship from the harsh winds that whipped around the planet. You lowered the Crest as gently as you could, the old ship groaning and creaking as the landing gear came out. Once down you powered down the engines but kept the heating system running. The kid would freeze otherwise.
The door to the cockpit opened with a soft hiss, and Mando walked in all decked out in his armor. The kid babbled at him incoherently as Mando scooped him out of his seat. You double checked the ship's security systems, before slipping out of the chair, following the Mandalorian down the ladder.
Mando was settling the kid in the cot when you jumped off the ladder, swaddling him in blankets. You watched him take care of the child, smiling softly at how gentle Mando was with him. “I’ve left the heating on.”
“Thank you.” Mando didn’t turn to look around at you, but his voice was affectionate. You blushed. You could hear the kid babbling away to Mando, and low mumbles of Mando talking back. You felt your heart squeeze watching them both.
Turning to the weapons cupboard, you slipped on your knife belt, and sheathed your knives into the holders. Mando soon appeared by your side, as you contemplated taking a blaster, staring into his extensive collections of weapons.
“Here. Take this one.” He reached in and passed you a small blaster. You took it carefully, double checking the safety, before tucking it into the waistband of your leggings.
You walked back to your bag on the floor, pulling out your warm fur lined coat. Tying your hair up in a ponytail, you shrugged the coat on, the soft fur tickling the back of your neck. “Are you ready?” You asked Mando, as you pulled on some gloves. He nodded.
The kid sat in the cot, covered in warm blankets. You smiled at him, both placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Be good, little one!” He smiled up at you, little hands making grabbing motions at you. You gave him your finger to hold, as Mando said goodbye. You chuckled at the image, two fearsome bounty hunters saying cute goodbyes to the big eared green creature who you both adored.
Mando clicked a button on his vambrace, and the cot door slid shut with a click. “Let’s go.” He walked towards the ramp, clicking another button to lower it. Freezing cold air rushed into the hull, so you pulled the hood of your jacket up over your head, fastening a button to keep it in place.
Mando strode off the ramp, with you scurrying behind him. He still didn’t quite realise that you had to walk two steps for every one of his. Stepping off the ship, you were blinded by the bright white light of the snow. You held your hand up to your face to shield your eyes. You could only see white snow for miles. The ramp creaked and groaned behind you as it closed, a lot louder than normal in the dead quiet of the snow. The wind was blowing into your face, the cold making your eyes sting and water.
“Town is ½ a mile that way.” You gestured to the right a bit. “I saw it as I landed.” Mando started to walk in that direction. You walked behind him, using his body to shield you from the wind. The untouched snow crunched beneath your feet. You smiled remembering a memory of snow fights with your dad as a kid.
Bending down quickly you gathered a handful of snow into one gloved hand, compacting it into a ball with the other. You glanced up. Mando was still walking ahead of you, unaware of your plans.
Splat!
The snowball hit the Mandalorian square in the back. You giggled as he turned to face you, the dark gaze of the visor studying you. “Did you… just throw a snowball at me?”
You froze. Oh no. Mando was so serious, you didn’t know if he’d even understand what a snowball fight is. You hang your head, and mumble a yes.
Because you’d hung your head, you didn’t see him lean down and grab a handful of snow, until it hit you square in the chest. The force of his throw, making you stumble.
“Ooof…. hey!” You laughed. You reached down and grabbed another handful, lobbing it back at his head. It hit his shoulder.
“Missed.” Came the low rumble of his voice, and it sounded like he was laughing. “Come on, lets keep going.” He turned and walked on. You jumped after him, jogging slightly to catch up.
“I didn’t know Mandalorians did snowball fights.”
“Good target practice.” You grinned at him, happy that he indulged your little game.
The town soon loomed into view. Mando paused, taking out the bounty puck. A faint red light was flashing, and the ever familiar beeping could be heard. “Hopefully he’s still here.”
“There’s nothing for miles.” You add, trying to remember the landscape around the town. “The east side of the town has a port, and then it's just mountain ridges and flat tundra for miles and miles.”
The town walls are dark and crumbling, no guards are at the outpost, so you both saunter into the main square. There’s not much in town, it's small and half abandoned after being favoured by smugglers. The smell of smoke is heavy in the air, and you could see fires flickering in the windows of some of the houses. The streets were covered in a grey/blown slush from people walking through to the only tavern in town. Mando checked the bounty puck, it was blinking softly. So he’s here somewhere.
Mando paused a little way down the street. “I need you to go in first. Scout the area, and let me know.” He handed you the earpiece comms link. You slipped it on. “Can you hear me?”
His voice sounded in your ear, deep and rich. You felt a flash of warmth pool in your stomach. Oh maker…. You nodded your head, trying to clear your head. You’ve used the comms link a lot, and each time you have the same reaction to his voice. “Good. Go on in, I’ll wait here.”
You slip inside the tavern, the stark contrast of temperature brings a small flush to your cheeks. You tip your hood back, just enough so you can see, but not enough to take it off and expose the comms. The bar of the tavern was softly lit by candles, and a big hearth fire blazed in the centre. Pots of chowder bubbled away as they hung over the fire, a Mythrol cook was standing close by, wearing an apron smeared with food.
You walked over to the bar, assessing the rest of the tavern. Groups of people sat huddled around tables. A pair of Dyplotid’s glanced in your direction as you came in but they went back to their cards. The barkeeper smiled as you walked in.
“Ah...hello. What can I get you?” His voice was gravelly, his skin old and weathered.
“Just a mintea. It’s cold.” He let out a chuckle.
“First time here?”
“Hmm, yes. Didn’t realise it’d be this cold.” You pulled out a bar stool and settled in, resting your arms on the table. The barkeeper placed a mug of mintea down in front of you. You wrap your hands around it, the heat permeating through the gloves.
“What brings you here?”
“I needed to rest. I’ve been flying for a while. I’m on my way back to Coruscant.” The lie slipped easily off your tongue. It was nice to be off the ship. Maldo Kreis was in the outer rim, and the journey to here had been long. Longer than you had anticipated. Especially as Mando’s ship doesn’t do anything above hyperdrive, which although fast is still slow in comparison to your old ship.
He nodded and then turned to chat to one of the other patrons who had come up to the bar. You took another glance around the room. You couldn’t see anyone who resembled the bounty.
The comms link crackled in your ear, and Mando’s soft voice filled your head. “Are you going to sit at the bar all day while I freeze out here?” You can hear the amusement in his voice. You glanced out to your right to the window, you could see him leaning against the wall outside. His pauldrons and helmet were covered in a light dusting of snow. You smirked.
You tap your chest twice, just above your heart. It was a signal you and Mando had come up with to signify that an area was safe without having to use words. Mando pushed himself off the wall and walked into the tavern.
More people looked up when he walked in. Larger than life, and in a full suit of armor, he commanded attention. He glanced over at you before walking to a booth at the back of the room. The bartender’s eyes followed him as he moved.
“A Mandalorian.” He said, not to anyone in particular. Then he glanced at you. “A friend of yours?” You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away. He laughed, a deep throaty laugh.
You smiled at him, relaxing a bit now Mando was inside. Mando would contact you if he needed you. “How long have you been here?” You took a sip of your mintea, the warmth of the hot liquid spreading in your body.
“All my life. Never left.” You raised your eyebrows, you couldn’t imagine a life stuck on one planet. “Haha, not everyone gets to travel the galaxy girl.”
“Some people need to hold down the fort at home.” He nodded at that.
“Exactly. Who will take care of all the lonely, single travelers if I don’t?” His voice was soft, and he looked you up and down. You met his eyes, they were dark and glittering under hooded eyelids.
You took another sip of your drink. When he spoke again, his voice was different. It was harsher than before. “So I’ll ask again, what really brings you out here?”
“I told you. A rest stop on my way back home.”
“Nothing to do with that Mandalorian over there?” He lifted his chin, gesturing to the back of the tavern, to the secluded corner Mando had placed himself in.
You shook your head instead of answering. He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, I don’t believe you. He hasn’t stopped staring in this direction since he entered.”
You feel a blush creep into your cheeks, just as a knot of anxiety coils in your stomach. Something is wrong. You smile at the barkeeper. “Can’t blame him for staring.”
You place the mug back on the table, and move one of your hands down to your leg. You tapped your knee twice with your thumb. Another little signal to Mando. You then lift your hand and fish into your pockets for some credits. “Thanks for the drink.” You chuck them down and start to slide off the stool.
The barkeeper keeps his eyes on you. You notice the Dyplotids’ raising out of their chairs. Shit. Shit. Shit. You curse internally for letting yourself be fooled. You remain calm, tugging your hood up over your head, pretending to be getting ready to leave. You turn to flash a smile at the barkeeper. He watches you, eyes flickering to you and then the Dyplotid’s behind you.
“They’re following you.” Came the low voice of Mando in your ear again. You make no movement to acknowledge his voice as you walk out onto the street. “There’s an alley to your left. I’ll follow in a minute.”
You spot the alley. It’s darker than the Main Street but not enough to hide in. Dammit. You slip into it regardless, hearing footsteps crunching on the snow slush behind you. You keep walking. Where is Mando? The alley comes to an abrupt end with the outer wall of the town looming above you. You stop and turn.
You were met with the faces of the Dyplotids. Four eyes each stare down at you, dark and angry.
“Who are you?” One hisses.
“A nobody.” You reply, praying that Mando appears soon.
“Some nobody being friends with a Mandalorian.” The other speaks.
“What do you want?” You glare back at them. If you acted quickly you’d probably be able to take them. Your fingers twitch, brushing the hilt of your knives.
Before they could answer, two blaster shots rang out. The Dyplotids fell forward, two giant burning holes in their backs. You glance up to the top of the alley. Mando was standing there, lowering his blaster.
“Let’s go. He’s not here.” His voice came through the comms link. You walked over to him, while he waited for you. His visor fixed on you. He held out the puck. The light was off and it was silent.
“Thank you for saving me.” You looked up into the dark visor.
“You’re welcome.” You could hear the modulated voice, and the deep rumble of his real voice in your ears. You stared at him, transfixed at his voice. He let out a small snort. Arrogant dick was probably smirking under the mask. You shook your head, trying to shake yourself out of your delusions.
“What now?” You sidestepped him and started to walk down the street. Mando fell into step beside you.
“We need intel on where he could be. I am not traipsing the whole planet.” His voice was only coming through the comms link. Practically you knew it was to help maintain a low profile, but subconsciously you hoped he never stopped, you could listen to him all day.
“There is a port with landspeeders for hire?”
“Too expensive.”
“Well it's either that or walk.”
“He won't be far from the town. There’s nothing for miles.”
“That’s what you think. There might be something out there and we won't find it on foot.” Mando was often too stubborn. “I say we go to the port. Leave it to me.”
Mando gazed down at you, you folded your arms across your chest. You could be stubborn too, and you had a plan.
“Fine. But you pay.”
“Fine.” You looked around for a sign to the port.
“It's left.”
“I know.” You huffed.
The walk to the port was short. You didn’t see any other townsfolk, which was odd considering the altercation back at the tavern. Maybe people are scared?
A ferryman stood next to a couple of old landspeeders. You could hear Mando mumbling about a waste of money in your ear. You ignored him.
The ferryman looked up. “What can I do yous for?” He grunted.
“I’d like to hire a landspeeder.”
“Yeah. And where are you going with it?”
“I fail to see how that’s your business?” You questioned back.
“Hurrmph.” Came the grunted reply. “My ‘speeders, my business.”
“You can’t argue with that logic.” Mando’s voice rang in your ear. You wanted to elbow him, but thought better of it. You looked back at the ferryman, he was another Mythrol. His blue skin barely visible through his hood.
“I need to see Salvius.” Might as well go big or go home.
“What if he don’t wanna see you?”
“He’s expecting us.” You swallowed. You felt Mando stiffen beside you.
“Oh is he? What does he want from you?”
“Now that is none of your business.” You quip back dryly. You could feel that coil of anxiety growing in your stomach. What if he’s bluffing and just takes you into the middle of nowhere?
“It's gonna cost ya.”
“Name your price.” Mando huffed next to you.
“1000 credits.” You balk at the price.
“No. 550 and that’s it.” Panic tinged your voice. Shit.
“750. Or no landspeeder.”
You caught Mando’s hand moving to his blaster holstered on his hip. Please don’t do it.
“I suggest you take what the lady offers.” Came the soft hiss from the helmet. The Mythrol stared at the Mandalorian.
“Or what?” Mando didn’t give him the courtesy of an answer before he blew a hole in the centre of his chest with the blaster. You jumped with the loudness of the bang.
“FUCK MANDO!” You cried as the ferryman's’ body crumpled to a heap on the floor.
“I didn’t trust him.”
“No shit!” Your heart was pounding. Mando whipped round to glare at you.
“Your plan was stupid.” A small twinge of anger hit your chest.
“At least I had a plan.” You spat back.
Mando stared at you for another second before bending down to grab the landspeeder keys from the Mythrols’ belt. He jumped into the closest one, starting the engine. You clambered in after him. He placed the puck on the dashboard, using it as a sort of navigator.
Mando drives fast. Probably too fast. The cold air whooshed around the vehicle, chilling the exposed parts of your face. You hunker down in the seat. Mando’s helmet dipped towards you, before turning back to face the land ahead. His hands pushed a few buttons on the landspeeders dashboard and hot air was suddenly blowing into your face. The small gesture was sweet, and your heart skipped a beat.
“I forget you feel the cold more than me.” His voice was sympathetic.
“Thanks.” You were going to make a comment about how you don’t have a beskar'gam, or iron skin, to protect you but you left it.
The landspeeder sped over the flat snow, mountains rising up on your left. You were travelling further and further away from the ship. A small pang of guilt tugged your heart at the kid being all alone.
A red light caught your eye. The puck was flashing.. “Stop!” You grabbed Mando’s sleeve.
“What?” He slowed the landspeeder.
“The puck!” You scanned the area. A small glint of light caught your eye. “There up on the ridge.”
Mando turned to look. You knew he was scanning the area through his visor.
“Do you see anything?”
He grunted in acknowledgment. “There’s a group of people.” You strained to see what he was seeing, but your eyes couldn’t make out anything against the snow.
“Do you think they’ve seen us?”
“Definitely.” Mando started the landspeeder again. “They have the higher ground. We can’t get to them until nightfall.” You glanced up at the sky, the clouds were so thick you couldn’t make out the sun.
Mando zoomed over towards an outcrop of rocks and hid the speeder behind it. He kept the engine running. “We’ll have to wait here.”
“We’ll stick out like sore thumbs.” You gestured to your dark snow clothes, and his dark grey beskar.
“That's why we’re waiting. We’ll be more disguised in the snow at night.”
“What about heat sensing?”
“I have a plan.” You snorted. Great. You settled back into the seat, tucking your knees up. Might as well rest for a bit.
When you woke up your face was pressed against Mandos' right pauldron. You blinked in the dark. There was some sort of pressure on your leg, on the inside of your knee. You glance down, Mando’s leather clad hand resting there. It was so casual, the way it was draped over your knee, giving you better access to his arm to sleep on. Mando felt you stir.
“Are you awake?” He squeezed your knee, so softly that you weren’t even sure it happened.
You hummed a response, lifting your head from his shoulder. The landscape was dark around you, barely any light from the moons filtered through the clouds. Mando lifted his hand, making it easier for you to sit up. “They’re still up on the ridge.” You glanced up, you could make out a soft glow of orange. “They lit a fire.” Mando confirmed your thoughts.
“How many?”
“A few.”
You exhaled softly. “Think it's Salvius?”
Mando shrugged. “Potentially.”
“What’s the plan?”
The plan, as it turned out, was for you to roll in snow to reduce your heat flare. Mando apparently didn’t because ‘his armor doesn’t get warm, or show up on infrared.’ You didn’t quite believe him but felt like starting an argument about it was worthless. The second phase of the plan, after Mando shoved snow down the back of your top a little too zealously, was to sneak up to the ridge and scout out the people.
You were shivering as Mando led the way towards the ridge through the snow. You stuck close to his back, head down, following his fresh footprints in the snow.
As you walked you let your mind wander. Something has changed between the pair of you. Sure Mando has touched you before, he’s helped with injuries or fastening up jackets but the past few touches felt different. They felt softer, kinder, more personal than the other times he’s touched you. And the keldabe kiss? What does that mean?
You were so lost in thought you didn’t see Mando stop, and you collided into his back.
“Watch where you're going.” He mumbled.
You looked around. The landscape was dark and grey, the sky was also dark and grey, and the man you were following was dressed in dark grey colours. You could just about see your feet. Mando carried on walking. The terrain beneath your feet got steeper, and more icy. You must be nearing the top of the ridge. Mando held his arm out, you stopped. His visor was fixated on the campfire.
“Somethings wrong.” He murmured.
“What?”
“There’s more than I thought.”
You glanced across at the campfire. The hike up the ridge had gotten you pretty much level with the campfire, although you were about 200m to the right of it. You couldn’t make out individual shapes, just a dull orange glow.
“The fire is low.” Mando nodded next to you.
“They have lots of boxes. A land cruiser as well.” He glanced around, and then at the puck strapped to his chest. The red light was blinking. “This will be them.”
You looked around you, trying to make out surroundings. You and Mando were on a rocky ridge that jutted out from the main ridge line. A steep cliff fell away in front of you, the bottom of it cloaked in darkness. The campfire sat on another ledge. To get there you’d have to climb.
“Is it worth it?” You were only asking due to the landscape. Neither of you had an advantage here. If anything it was a foolish mission.
“Yes.” The response was abrupt.
A noise to your left, caused your heart to race. You froze as Mando whipped his head around. A voice sounded in your ear. “They’re behind us.” No shit.
“Have they seen us?” Your voice was barely a whisper.
Mando didn’t get a chance to respond before a blaster shot rang out, narrowly missing your head. Mando pulled you close to him. “Stay close.”
You pulled the blaster out of your waistband, quickly clicking the safety off. You couldn’t see anything. The clouds were thinning slightly but they were still covering the moon.
Another blaster shot rang out, you hid behind Mando. You felt one of his hands wrap around and rest on your hip, keeping you close. He lifted his blaster up and fired off into the dark.
You heard a few cries as he shot a few people. Mando staggered backwards as a shot hit his breastplate. He let out a low groan at the force. Blaster shots were ringing out all around you. You fired aimlessly into the dark, praying that you hit someone.
You glanced up at the sky again, a gap was appearing in the clouds, faint moonlight filtering through. You looked around Mando, 12 people stood blasters firing at the pair of you. You aimed and got two of them, they fell down with a thump. A blaster shot whistled past your head, and you ducked back behind Mando.
The clouds parted and the moonlight shone down onto the ground. You aimed your blaster again, hitting 3 more people in the chest.
You fired your blaster again, but before you could pull the trigger, searing pain ignited on your leg. You looked down. A shot had just skimmed your thigh leaving a burning hole in your leggings and melting the leather of your knife holder. Your flesh was burnt and blistered. The pain took your breath away, and you cried out. Gritting your teeth you fired back in the direction of the shot, before falling to the ground groaning. The moon disappeared again, plunging you back into darkness.
Mando ran over to you, shielding you with his body again as you quickly packed snow onto the wound, trying to numb the pain. The blaster shots were becoming less and less frequent, until they stopped altogether.
Mando spun round and dropped to his knees. “Are you okay?”
“My leg….” you groaned. You didn’t want to be a baby but, stars, it hurt. Mando’s hands fluttered carefully over the wound, unfastening your knife holder and peeling your burnt leggings away. You hissed in pain.
“Sorry. I have to get a better look.” You clenched your hands into a fist, digging your nails into the palm of your hand. Mando placed a hand on your knee, to stop you twitching whilst he got a better look. “It doesn’t look deep. We need to…”
Before Mando could finish his sentence another shot rang out, hitting him square in the back. He fell forward onto you with the force of the blow, crushing your leg under his armor. You cried out in pain. Mando pushed himself off, whipping around, blaster drawn and firing behind him.
Moonlight lit the ridge up, illuminating the bodies of the attackers. Blaster shots rang out, the noise echoing off the rocks. You turned over onto all fours, pain stabbing through you. Breathing deeply you stood up on shaky legs, grabbing your knife from the floor. This time the assailants pressed closer, moving towards you and Mando.
Once up you pulled out your other knife. Waves of pain throbbed through your leg. But before you could adjust your balance, a blaster came crashing down into the side of your shoulder, knocking you back to the floor. You rolled with the movement, before springing up as fast as you could. You hit out with one of your knives at your attack, managing to cut his shoulder. He hissed, and pulled out a dagger, lunging at you. You sidestepped his movement, and he fell slightly, off balanced. You took the opportunity to jump on top of him, knife sinking into the side of his neck. Easy. He tried to grab you as you both fell back into the snow, but his strength quickly faded. Ripping the knife out you turned, just as another man lurched towards you.
You rolled out of his way, narrowly avoiding his weapon. Jumping up again you stand ready to attack. He turns and jabs out at you with a knife. You dodge it, before diving in to stab at his exposed chest. Your knife glances off his rib cage, leaving a small cut through his clothes. A hand grabs your wrist as you pull back, pulling you to him. He twists one of your arms behind your back, the muscles in your shoulder screaming at the angle. You kick upwards with your boot, colliding your heel with his balls. He bends over, loosening his grip just enough for you to wriggle out. He tries to pull you back but you stab him in the arm, just enough for him to release his grip entirely. His eyes shine with anger as he glares at you, before running towards you, knife out. You duck to the side and swipe his legs out from under him. He falls into a heap, and you leap on top of him, yanking his head up. You slit his throat. You feel him shudder beneath you as he bleeds out. You stand up, leg shaking with pain.
Your victory is short lived. Turning around you’re met with three faces. They stalk towards you, and you scurry backwards. One goes in for a jab and you block and catch his chest with the edge of your knife, just as another dives at you. You step backwards.
You hadn’t realised how far you’d gotten to the edge of the cliff. As you step backwards you feel ice and rock crumbling away from beneath your feet. You glance back at the men inching towards you, and then towards Mando who was fighting off 4 men. You don’t see until it's too late. One man steps forward and shoves you. With nothing to catch your fall you slip. You cry out. You can hear Mando screaming your name.
You’re weightless as you fall through the air. You hit the ground with force, for a split second all you can feel is pain, and then everything is silent and dark.
#the mandalorian#mando x reader#mandolorian x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#din dijarin x reader#din dijarin fanfiction#din x reader
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2019: Twitter- Eric Kripke
therealKripke: “In honor of #SPN300, here's my original #SPN pitch from 2004. The pilot story is very different, but the tone always rang clear to me. Could never have imagined what this show became and the good it's done. Humbled and grateful beyond words to you all. #SPNFamily @cw_spn ‘[images of spn pilot’s 4pg script]’“ - 12:08 PM Feb 7, 2019
[source]
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Supernatural
Pitch by Eric Kripke August 30, 2004
I. TONE AND WORLD
In one sentence, this is X-FILES meets ROUTE 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty back roads in their trusty 64 Mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night. But much more than that, it's a show about an obsession of mine...
Throughout the U.S., (especially the MIDDLE, where I'm from), we have a folklore, as uniquely American as baseball, as rich and varied as any world mythology, and almost nobody knows it. For instance, Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil, at an abandoned Mississippi crossroads, to be the world's greatest guitarist. But he died violently, poisoned at age 26, screaming about Hellhounds as he choked on his own blood. In the shadowy north woods of Minnesota, lives a creature named the Wendigo. Translated from Native American, it means "evil that devours.” It feeds on human flesh. And even today, dozens of witnesses say it's very real.
There are literally HUNDREDS of these stories and legends and urban legends. There are dark and dangerous things out there in the corners of our country. So here's a show that travels the diverse highways and byways of supernatural America. Black woods, ghost towns, those tourist trap mystery spots. Really, a show ABOUT our country-the bloody, beating heart of America.
Unlike X-FILES, this show isn't Vancouver rainy. It's brighter, more colorful, more VISCERAL, and more irreverent. The humor here is extremely important to me—but it has to arise from the characters and their attitudes. The characters can be funny, but the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS SHIT– I'm talking THE RING; how what you don't see is much more terrifying than what you do. I'm talking about making this series as scary as I possibly can, until you guys call and yell at me.
But I also want the tone to be GROUNDED. Where BUFFY, for example, felt HEIGHTENED, our show should feel like OUR WORLD, real-life America. With a darkness that bubbles and boils just beneath the surface. And I want to keep the weekly stories CREDIBLE- leave 'em with a question mark, the possibility of a rational explanation. Something early X-Files did very well.
Finally, I want this show to capture a certain SPIRIT. For one, that youthful electricity of dropping out and hitting the open road; the freedom of wide-open American spaces. But also, EVERY road trip story-from FEAR and LOATHING to Kerouac to The Odyssey, are inherently mythic quests, hero's journeys, real Joseph Campbell stuff. The way STAR WARS, LORD OF THE RINGS, and MATRIX are all the same story, with the same beats. So our series, too, is an epic hero's quest-- across the United States. Almost like a modern western, and our heroes are gunslingers. Or, as I like to call it - it's STAR WARS in TRUCK STOP AMERICA.
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II. CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISE
Now, let's get into establishing our characters, and launching our franchise.
So if this is STAR WARS, meet LUKE SKYWALKER. SAM HARRISON, 21. Think Jake Gyllenhall, or Tobey Maguire. Smart, funny, handsome, maybe a little type-A. He just graduated Stanford with a 4.0, and now he's heading back down to L.A., where he lives with his Aunt and Uncle, he'll spend the summer clerking at a powerful law firm. And in the Fall... Harvard Law, thank you very much. Pedal to the metal, Sam is cruising the track to success. But, like all good Luke Skywalker heroes, Sam is vaguely restless. He tells his girlfriend, maybe he should drop everything this summer and blow off to Europe. But of course, he doesn't. He has too many responsibilities.
Sam's well adjusted, successful life, it's a real triumph, especially considering his background. Fifteen years ago, his dad JACK became increasingly dark and depressed. He drank. A lot. Until Mom and Dad were in a car crash. Dad was driving. He lived. Mom didn't. That triggered a schizophrenic breakdown in Dad. He swore that twisted, dark, horrific things caused that crash and took Mom away. And those same dark things were chasing after him. Dad was institutionalized. But he escaped. And disappeared.
Sam is ashamed of his tragic past. Hates his Dad, blames him for killing Mom, and NEVER, EVER talks about it.
Now, Sam's mythic CALL TO ADVENTURE, the events that will change his life forever, begin simply enough. When his big brother DEAN rolls into town. Meet DEAN HARRISON, 25, think Colin Farrel. If Sam's the good kid, Dean's the troublemaker. If Sam's Luke Skywalker, Dean's Han Solo. Charismatic and dangerous. Cocky confidence masking a troubled soul. Sam hated Dad, but Dean was older and remembered Dad in brighter days, and he worshipped the man. Sam buried his past and ignored it, but Dean was haunted by it, never quite got his shit together. Dean never went to college. Just sort of traveled around. In fact, Sam hasn't heard from Dean in almost 3 years, which Sam clearly resents.
And now... Dean makes Sam a proposition. Let me drive you down to L.A.- it's just one day, we'll get a chance to catch up a little. Reluctant, Sam agrees.
At first, they're enjoying the electric, carefree pleasures of a ROAD TRIP. Top down, radio blaring, singing their lungs out to AC/DC.
But then... at twilight... on an empty stretch of highway... Dean's driving. And he has to make a confession. (Though I'm sure we'll break this up into a few different scenes.) "Sam. There's something I need to tell you," Dean says. “I went looking for Dad. And I found him. Took just about every dime I had, but I found him. And I've been with him, for almost 2 years." Sam is shocked and betrayed: "what?! Why didn't you tell me?!" But Dean continues: "listen. I know this is hard to believe. But Dad WASN'T nuts.
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Demons really DID kill Mom. Dark, awful things WERE following Dad. I know. Because I can see them. Because they're following me, too."
Obviously, Sam is BEYOND freaked and well aware that schizophrenia is hereditary. Dean goes on, getting worked up-“so Dad figured out how to kill these things, and he showed me how. Until they caught up to us in Baker. They got Dad. Before I got them." "What do you mean, you GOT them?” asks Sam. “I killed a demon. In human form," says Dean. “You killed somebody?!" "No, I killed a DEMON, it only LOOKED human.” (Which could be a scary, visceral teaser, by the way.) Anyway, DEAN continues: “Listen to me, Sam... it was Dad's wish, his DYING WISH, that I find you, that I teach you the way he taught me.” At this point, Sam goes into placating, survival mode. “Okay. Sure. Just calm down." But Sam's terrified-of his own brother.
Meanwhile, as this conversation's going on, Dean isn't going to L.A. He takes a detour-- for all intents and purposes, kidnapping Sam. They pull into a small, faded, all-American town in Central California. It's 1950's American optimism gone to seed. Basically, they pull right into the pilot's SELF ENCLOSED B-STORY. Whatever it is, the story should be simple, giving us room to focus on the brothers. It should be based in Folklore. And it should be personal—the job their father never completed.
Now, here's an example of exactly the kind of story I'm talking about. The real life ghost story of the "Weeping Woman," a sobbing wraith in a bloody white nightgown. She murdered her children by the river side, as revenge against her unfaithful husband. And today, it's said she lures unfaithful men to the river and drowns them. And sure enough, several MEN in this town have turned up dead by the river's edge. Anyway, something like this. And Dean, despite his smart ass jokes and references to the movie Poltergeist, seems to be taking this SERIOUSLY.
But Sam doesn't believe a WORD of it. First moment he's alone, he calls his Aunt and Uncle. “I'm with Dean, I think he's sick.” They tell him—"cops in Baker found your Dad's body. And a truck driver's body, too. Dean's the suspect. You have to get away! Where are you?!” But before Sam can answer-he pivots, right into Dean. Who grabs the phone, SMASHING it, furious: “Dammit, Sam, I'm not insane," Dean says, “Caspar the unfriendly fucker is really out there!"
Then, as Dean delves deeper and deeper into the ghost story, dragging a reluctant Sam along with him... INEXPLICABLE SUPERNATURAL phenomenon begin to occur, which SERIOUSLY RATTLES Sam. We'll have several good, scary set pieces. And soon, Sam doesn't know WHAT to think. And in the B-STORY'S climax, he'll even save Dean at some crucial point. (Though we'll be careful to leave things open ended, with just the possibility of a logical explanation.)
Afterwards, a beat in which Dean, vulnerable, says to his brother-"I've been thinking. And you're going home, Sam. You're smart, and you've got everything going for you. I don't care what Dad said, I can't let you live like this... Still," says Dean, "it was nice having you around. When you're with somebody... you just don't feel as crazy as
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often." Sam's very conflicted, and he feels awful, but he can't just abandon his old life. So the brothers part ways. Sam hitchhikes up the road. Meanwhile, thanks to his Aunt and Uncle, the cops have been searching for Sam, and now they find him.
At the station, Sam tells the cops, Dean's in Colorado by now. But a patrol car has spotted Dean's parked Mustang at a nearby motel. The police grab SHOTGUNS, they're going to take Dean with force. And in the face of ONE PASSING COP, Sam sees-a glimpse. A shimmer. Something DEMONIC and INHUMAN flashes across the cop's face-and then it's gone, just as quick. Did Sam imagine it? Is he going insane, too? Or is Dean really in danger? Are dark, awful things really after him, like he said?
This is Sam's crossroads moment. And he makes a decision-he takes off. Steals a car. Beats the cops back to Dean. Warns him at the last minute. It's very TIGHT and very HECTIC, but Sam and Dean get away. Escaping by the skin of their teeth.
As we leave Sam... he doesn't know if he's losing his mind. He doesn't know if Dean's a hero or a homicidal schizophrenic. All he knows is-Dean's his brother, and he needs help. And for now, that's enough.
III. THE SERIES ITSELF
I think the overall GOAL here, is building an engine that gives us SELF ENCLOSED STORIES. I am gonna pitch some very simple mythology, but STAND ALONES are a format I really believe in, they're the shows I loved and grew up on. Like the best EARLY episodes of X-FILES.
So basically, our two heroes, avenging their parents' death, cruise the golden backroads of America-picture chrome diners and bucolic farms and dusty Route 66 towns. Places that are mythic and American, but also haunting, in a way. Places where horror can strike in broad daylight. Sam and Dean are kind of like classic gunslingers, or dragon slayers, finding-and KILLING—the monsters of American folklore.
So first question-how do they find the damn things? Dean tracks these creatures in a low-tech way. He scans obituaries for strange deaths. Dean also has a loose network of contacts - defrocked ministers and trailer park psychics, who impart information to our heroes whenever necessary.
Second question-how do they KILL the damn things? The answer—they have no fucking idea. They're outgunned and desperate and in completely over their heads. They don't have a WATCHER, like in BUFFY. They don't have an OBI WAN. They're on their own. Each week, they gotta figure out what the hell they're dealing with, and how the hell to kill it. And a lot of the time, they're wrong, and they have to improvise. Whether it's finding a ghost's remains - and burning them into dust; or loading a shotgun with silver buckshot, our guys will do whatever it takes to get the job done.
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Gale Summarised Analysis
Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in May 2021.
The majority of sources used for this article are in the game itself (this includes my Gale-solo playthroughs as well as a combination of the videos by munmomuu and selphie1999), and the few dev’s notes provided by pjenn. Gale as origin is not taken into account since it’s not finished and has little to none Gale-related content. There will be little datamining content as well since pjenn said the game contained almost no gale-related notes (only in the Weave and in the Revelation scene).
Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)
The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.
We can infer about Gale by analysing what he approves and disapproves of. Sometimes, we can even lightly infer some information from his neutral reactions, but let’s be honest: this way of analysing a char is pretty poor since it leaves everything to speculation. Neutral reactions can only be analysed, in very rare instances, by contrasting the same situation in other contexts, and seeing what other options Gale approves or disapproves of. With these considerations in mind, we can proceed to describe this character.
Disclaimer: this is a meta with my personal interpretation of the character, sticking as much as possible to the facts and leaving little to “desires” or “projections” of what I want him to be. If I do so, I will state it explicitly in the text for the sake of analysis honesty. I want to be clear about what is canon (facts shown in bg3 EA), from what’s personal interpretation with little proof.
Understanding Gale (integrated text)
We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things. So we fight them
---Gale
Collecting most of the information provided in-game, we know he has a cat, a Library, and writes poetry sometimes. One of the first things that Gale will reveal is that he is a private person. He easily and clearly sets boundaries from the first moment, showing Tav where they stand. The second aspect he makes us aware of is his pragmatic thinking and his preference for diplomatic approaches. A third aspect that stands out on its own: he is a very verbose person, maybe as a result of his academia background in combination with his poetry hobby. He also has a bad posture when talking, but I’m not sure if this is intentional or a bug.
We can assure that Gale certainly is a man of the city [13], and may have a decent social status. It's impossible to say for sure if it's noble or rich or both, or it is just a natural consequence of being a wizard scholar: he is frustrated by the harshness of the camping life, he misses the civilisation of the city which offers well cooked meals, soft beds, and scented baths. Not by chance he is the only companion in the group who would approve of giving Oskar 200 gold to fight “the discomforts of the road” [13]. However, he adapts. Despite the lack of luxuries, he managed to survive in the wilderness.
Gale and his link with magic is unquestionable. Magic is life for Gale, metaphorically and literally speaking since it's magic what allows him to stay alive despite the "orb" in his chest. If we talk about Magic, we have to talk about Mystra and the Weave. The Weave is not only the embodiment of Mystra, it's an extension of Mystra herself. It extends across many planes of existence and is in almost all parts of Faerûn. By dragging power from it, Magic can be performed.
Mystra, for lore reasons and conjectures that I will discuss in the post "Mystra and her Chosen ones", turned teenager/young adult Gale into one of her Chosen, making their relationship more intimate and granting Gale a deeper access to the Weave. This put Gale into the category of an archwizard. It's clear that Gale was and still is a devotee of Mystra, which could give us a hint of his alignment since she is a neutral good goddess and she expects for her Chosen to align around it.
Gale likes confidence, in others and in himself. He is confident in his looks (he has described himself as a “handsome devil” and answered during the romance/Revelation scene that he knew he was beautiful under the light as well as Tav). But beyond these two lines, qualifying him as a narcissist seems extreme. He is surely very confident about his knowledge, and we see he is not just mere words: his Mind Flayer knowledge is at the the same level of what githyankis know. If we compare how Astarion/Tav struggled with the book of Thay, and then we see how Gale manages it (sadly the scene is not complete yet in EA, and there is almost no datamining info of Gale), we can conclude once more that his knowledge and power of the mind are real (he is, so far, the main companion who allows us to explore the lore of the game in a deeper way during his conversations). We also know it's a bit more complicated to intrude into his mind using the tadpole because he has knowledge and mental tools to protect himself (check the post about the Tadpole inside Gale). He is certainly a very verbose and confident scholar, who knows his limits, and in occasions he seems to dabble into an ego-teasing play as an attempt of levity, displaying his “insufferable side”, as he has described himself (his self-awareness of these traits is remarkable, and it is the reason why I avoid qualifying him as arrogant. Arrogant chars are hardly self-aware of their own bad manners or insufferable traits). But we can see it's usually done as a joke or, with an evil Tav, as an aggressive reaction. For a deep analysis of this aspect, check the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Narcissism".
Based on his approvals and disapprovals, we can see that Gale has a strong preference in avoiding fights, violence, and bloodshed [1]. He will always prefer diplomatic and persuasive approaches [2]. Reasoning is his best weapon, but if the individual we are dealing with can hardly be persuaded, he would approve of a deception or an intimidation as long blood is not spilt. Here is where we see his pragmatism in action, all the time. His primary goal at every moment is to avoid bloodshed. His philosophy could be summed up in the line “the means [as long as they don’t kill gratuitously] hardly matter if the end is worthy”. And for Gale, nothing is more worthy than life [3]. This doesn't cover only the life of innocents he cares about, it includes the life of the most dubious characters as well, such as Rugan or Crusher. Gratuitous death is meaningless for him. During the scene of Nettie we can have a glimpse of his philosophy towards life: he viscerally hates treating life as if it were nothing:
Gale: How dare she snuff out life with as much thought as snuffing out a bloody candle? […] It's not right to feel the cold breath of death in your neck, then move on as if it was nothing but a soothing breeze. One respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it.
Gale: One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.
Probably the limited amount of life he has due to the "orb" increased his sense of respect for life and its celebration. I personally understand Gale as a character who embodies the perspectives of a seriously ill person, knowing that their life may be short, but they will try to make the best out of it.
He doesn't only respect life per se, he also cares about its dignity. This can be seen in his explicit rejection to undead existences such as Connor (he explains that it would be merciful to put an end to his undead nightmare), or in his disapprovals of humiliation and torture [9]
We could suspect that this emphasis in protecting any life comes from the fact that only people who are alive can (sometimes) be forgiven or/and change. This is not explicit, but since he is a character who talks about being better and wiser than his previous self, about acknowledging mistakes, about forgiveness, this interpretation seems reasonable.
These concepts of kindness and compassion combined with “the mistakes of the youth” are repetitive in his interactions and approvals [5,12]. Of course, they echo in his soul since they are reflections and desires of his own experience. This pattern covers forgiving children in particular [5], and disapproving hard judgements [16], especially on matters whose story is not fully understood by Tav. This means he doesn't like quick judgements when he doesn't know the whole story first. This scenario can be easily seen during Karlach's quest, he reserves his judgment until knowing Karlach's side: There are always two sides to each story.
Gale: I have to say I don't know if agreeing to this hunt was such a wise idea. Who's to say who's the real villain in this tale of devils and masquerades? [...]When we track Karlach down, let's chat before we chop.
Similar concept appears during his Revelation scene, when he encourages and keeps asking Tav to listen to him first before judging. This is also the reason why in his Loss scene he would disapprove if Tav quickly assumes that his loss of Mystra was due to arrogance. Tav judged him without knowing the whole story. However, once Tav knows the whole story, Gale will accept any judgement from them without approval penalties during the Revelation scene.
He approves all actions that imply helping others in hard times and disapproves of them if they were done out of greed [4]. He is an animal lover [6,7]. Being kind to animals and treating them good will increase his approval, while animal cruelty will earn his disapproval. Same goes for humanoids: any display of gratuitous violence that could have been prevented with a trick or a diplomatic approach, any humiliation forced upon others, any torture or situation of slavery, is disapproved [8, 9, 11].
In particular, Gale seems to advocate the philosophy of “give others their own medicine”[18] or in other words: poetic justice. We can see this during the Myconid colony; he approves of helping the Myconid to avenge the young killed by the Duergar, adding the comment: “Wicked killers deserve wicked ends”. He is implying to give them a similar, wicked medicine to the Duergars. Another less deadly situation of this kind is shown during the foot situation with Crusher: Gale is the one suggesting “pungent poetic justice” and telling Tav that they should force Crusher to kiss their feet.
The most iconic scene, however, is during Nettie's, if Tav lies during her interrogation. As a hot-headed reaction, Gale states that he would have poisoned Nettie if this situation would have happened to him. Although, after calming down, he approves of and confirms Tav's actions [if Tav managed to persuade Nettie to give them the antidote]
Gale: A taste of her own medicine is what she deserves! […] But you handled it, and you handled it well.
In this scene we also see a pattern: Gale is shown as a fallible human; his most visceral reaction during the first moment is anger and indignation, giving us a hint that he is not so rational when it comes to emotional states. An extremely obvious, human concept.
The scene of Nettie trying to kill a potential menace (the victim of a MF) reverberated in his consciousness, projecting immediately a fact in his mind: if he ever dares to reveal his "orb" problem, and anyone knows what a danger he represents—no matter how stable it looks—people will want to remove the menace by killing him.
This is the reason behind his words “It's just that, had it been me... had it been...” Gale knows that this simplistic and common thinking in removing what's dangerous would end up turning into a more destructive tragedy in his case than in any infected victim of the tadpoles. So this combination makes us see, for the first time, an emotional Gale. After some seconds, he cools down and returns to his more rational, diplomatic, and moderate self. What we can read here is that Gale would be very prone to rush decisions or to make mistakes under emotional circumstances. We will learn later that the other mistake he made under emotional stress ended up with the "orb" stuck in his chest. A third mistake was done during the party, once more under the emotional stress of a potential abandonment by Tav due to the true nature of the orb.
Everything related to the “orb”—which is his most traumatic experience—naturally makes him more emotional and prone to mistakes. To see how truly traumatic the "orb" is in his life we can notice the following patterns during the meeting scene: he speaks about the tadpole in a relaxed, rational way, despite the traumatising experience. He first asks for an archwizard instead of for a cleric, because his priority is the orb. Gale's main fear is not the tadpole, but the orb. If we remember his words after the consumption of the artefacts, we realise he lives in a permanent state of anxiety and raw fear, and probably pain too, given his facial gesticulation when anything interacts with the "orb" (whether artefacts or Tav's hand). His banter with Shadowheart reinforces the concept that he always has a knot in the stomach. When he accepts the deal with Raphael, it seems to be related to the orb, not to the tadpole. The effect of the "orb" has ceased, but the tadpole is still in Gale's head since we still need to roll against a high DC and not only against a 1DC during this scene, so we can assume he still has the tadpole despite Raphael's deal. See the post about "The Tadpole" in Gale for more details.
Gale is a character that represents human experiences deeply related to growing up: mistakes done in the past, and the acceptance of not being forgiven despite the desire of wanting to. This can be easily seen during the conversation of the second tadpole dream, where Gale's mood is foul and we learn that his deepest desire is for Mystra to forgive him, but he also knows it's impossible for that to happen. He detects the lie in this dream because he has accepted that Mystra will never forgive him. Gale is the story of mistakes done during youth with grave consequences, of acknowledging them and trying to make them right, of surviving those mistakes, and depending on the interpretation, he is also the story of an ill dying man, with a gentle vision and deep care for life.
The great majority of his approvals are based on actions that show kindness and compassion, both reiterative concepts that are so important in his character that they come from his lips when we see the goblin party:
Gale: The shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [Only after a tough DC of 15]
In combination with: Gale: I don't know myself anymore. All this... It's not who I am. Around you, I'm not who I want to be. I should leave.
These lines show how, in a sudden change to an evil path, Gale would start doubting his own morality, explaining that the cause of it is the "orb" itself, corrupting the most core aspects of his personality. This corruption may or may not be lore-related. It's not completely clear what Gale's "orb" truly is. For more details, check the post of the "Orb".
His constant critical thinking comes from his advocacy to non-conventionality [15]: a true scholar will always explore all the options and hypotheses before reaching a conclusion. Therefore, Gale would approve of any non-conventional way to fix a problem [15] as long as it doesn't potentially cause harm or bloodshed [1,2,3,8,9]. Due to his own background, Gale will always advise to be very careful of the consequences of one’s actions. This can be easily seen when, after encountering the caged goblin Sazza, Gale would advocate to explore the possibility of reaching Gut Priestess to cure the tadpole. However, when Tav helps Sazza to escape, Gale will comment briefly against this action.
Gale: I know I said it's not inconceivable a goblin priestess could help us. And yet... was it really wise to set another goblin free so she can arrange introductions? […] consider the consequences. What if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? Tav: I don't care, I owe this grove no allegiance. Gale: No allegiance, no. Though we don't need to sign its death warrant
Once more we see that Gale is up to using any (unharming) means to get a goal, but not at any cost. He has a clear line he doesn't like to cross: life [3]. Avoiding putting other people's lives in danger is very important for him. We see this concept over and over in most scenes.
He doesn't likerushed decisions, and in that same train of thoughts, he will disapprove any use of unknown magic or tricks when nobody in the group can truly understand how they work [17], for example the tadpoles or Raphael's deal (he is against accepting it quickly, but he will approve of having a more cautious attitude and carefully thinking about it).
Since the moment we meet him, we can infer he is obsessed with the artefacts. It's obviously understandable: he doesn't want to die, but also, he doesn't want to kill all those that will be caught in the eruption of the orb. For this reason he will insist on the loot in the Temple Ruins despite knowing that grave robbery is not correct.
Gale: Bad form, isn't it? Grave robbing? […] Let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.
He keeps pondering life over death: although he respects the dead, he will always value more the living creatures in the present. This is also what pushes Gale to suggest Tav to open Rugan's chest. Stealing from the evil Zhentarins is not something that will weigh on his consciousness too much. Besides, he knows it belongs to a wizard: meaning that the chance for it to contain a powerful artefact is really high. Similar suggestions will be said about the Idol of Silvanus, but talking with him in the camp will show us that he won't approve of taking it, only as a last resort. He keeps pondering the living over a sacred piece of stone, since he knows the druids won't take the stealing very peacefully. Once more we see Gale's respect and care for life, trying to minimise damage as much as the circumstances allow him.
Gale is also a survivalist. He doesn't want to die, he loves celebrating life in its more mundane and small details. He is an emotional character for a wizard, a bit strange since they are usually portrayed as more rational and cold, losing their lives among dusty books. However, Gale has shown in many scenes that he prefers to survive without killing, but if he has to, he will do it, dealing with the weight of it in his consciousness because killing unprovoked affects him (scene in the camp after killing the druids, or the goblin party scene).
His moral in preventing gratuitous death sometimes will conflict with his own survival, especially if he is by an evil Tav's side. He couldn't accept bloodshed when other peaceful options were available and possible to reach. This is clearly shown during the goblin party, where Gale's consciousness suffers and feels the corruption of the "orb" killing the kindness and the compassion inside him. He accepts that wanting to live is a powerful drive, but he doesn't support this massacre, questioning if all that blood was necessary. A Tav killing the tieflings seems to lose the possibility of pursuing Gale romantically, at least in EA so far. For Gale, survival is important, but the means to do it (when they can cause death) matter too. Life is worth preserving.
The usual archetype of survivalist tends to be an individualist one who would survive at any cost without remorse because that's the “law of the jungle”, the strongest must survive. However, Gale seems to embody a different concept of survivalist that it's hard to put in words: a sort of communal survivalist, trying to survive in coexistence with his community: he wants his survival to imprint the least harm possible (even though sometimes it would not be possible), trying to help those around him as long as his condition allows it; for example, despite wanting Gut's potential cure for the tadpole, he would disagree in helping Sazza escape because she will lead the goblins to the Grove, no matter the fact that doing this will grant them their introduction to the priestess.
His list of approval shows that his sense of survival is always pondered with the consequences that it can cause on others (check the post with the "Extensive list of Gale's approvals"). The whole concept of the "orb" has this motivation as well: he wants to live and survive, but he also can't give up because his body would kill many, so he needs to do as much as his moral allows him to keep it in check. If he cannot do it any longer, he promises to minimise the disaster as much as possible by erupting in the deep Underdark or in a desolated corner of Faerûn (and considering his ridiculous list of approvals and disapprovals, we know he is honest in not wanting to kill gratuitously). Gale acknowledges his own mistakes, trying—to the best of his ability—to deal with them without catching others in them. Although all his speeches keep emphasising that he is a mere human, and plans may fail.
At some point, if he wants to survive “not at any cost”, he will be forced to ask Tav for help during the scene of the stew (available only for medium approval or higher). As a gesture of honesty, Gale will set a boundary before making this request, acknowledging its unfairness but giving Tav the decision to proceed or not. He is not denying to explain the details later, but at the moment he can't speak the “why” of his condition no matter how curious Tav is. Tav will decide whether they can keep their curiosity on the matter.
We will understand later that this impediment comes as a precaution as well as consequence of his personal trauma with Mystra and the "orb" (See post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust"). So, he is very clear about setting the conditions in which this conversation will happen from the beginning. The easiest way for Gale to avoid this whole situation would have been by simply lying, but he opted for an honest approach with clear out-loud reservations, knowing he was asking for more trust than he was allowed to, but the intention behind is more than important. There is a clear, huge contextual detail that we can't miss: this scene doesn't happen because of Gale's whims, he is forced to ask for help since his condition “is not a patient one” and will endanger everyone if not kept at bay.
This detail where Gale explicitly asks for an exchange of trust is not present if Gale's approval is neutral or lower. In this case, Gale would not care about giving a context to his strange request: he doesn't trust Tav and he doesn't expect to be trusted either, he only wants the artefacts to keep his condition in check for his sake and the sake of others. We can understand this change of attitude depending on the approval as he doesn't want to give any extra explanation to someone he is not interested in building a relationship with. For more details, check the post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust".
I personally support the idea that nobody in canon Faerûn is free of racial prejudices since Forgotten Realms lore has been created based strongly on fantasy racism. I've read that WotC wants to move forward and improve this aspect in 5e, but so far what they allowed Larian to do with the Tieflings in BG3 seems to show the contrary. So, since apparently we are going to face fantasy racism anyways, I will try to analyse racial prejudices from all chars. When it comes to Gale, it's a bit far-stretched to point out unjustified racial biases. He has a vague comment about Rashemi that some people may consider a faerunian saying. Personally, I think that line is a bias forced into him to have a particular dynamic with Minsc (the Rashemi “silly” companion -we all can see where Larian seems to go with this). Gale clearly sees tieflings, gnomes, and even goblins as people, and has a cautious attitude towards some githyanki (at least that's what we can infer with Lae'zel when we find her in the cage), but given the githyanki lore it's pretty reasonable to see them as dangerous creature that could kill people on the spot. So far, he seems to have no racial preference either [10].
As it was said before, he prefers to avoid killing people, but that doesn't mean he won't do it if his life depends on it. He will prefer persuasive and defusing approaches, but if he needs to kill to defend innocents or his own life, he won't hesitate. So therefore, stories about characters making mistakes or having violent excess in an effort to protect themselves or what they hold dear will be understood by him but hardly approved [19]. He tends more to approve a call out of that excess than approving an excuse for it.
Gale has deep abandonment issues that can be easily seen when he defends Astarion from being handed over to Gandrel. We need to put this in context before going on: for Gale, Astarion represents a danger as a vampire who attacked one of them during their sleep. By the display of meta-knowledge, we know with certainty that their approvals and disapprovals are mostly opposite: What one approves, the other will disapprove and vice versa. Getting rid of Astarion should be something that Gale would approve, however, he doesn't. If we explore his comments we will realise that what Gale disapproves from this situation is Tav's abandonment. After Mystra's abandonment, he knows very well that “Loyalty is such a very rare commodity”, and the few situations in EA in which Tav can display abandonment, resound strongly in Gale.
Gale is a scholar with a strong balanced rational side. But unlike the trope, he also embraces an emotional side that, so far the info we received in EA, it's the side that makes him prone to mistakes.
As an amateur poet, Gale loves words. We can obviously notice this in his verbose attitude, but also in the way he carefully uses words. One of his characteristic words is “spectacle”. He has also shown a reiterative—although not always—uneasy use of the word “fun”. Using “fun” as a way to describe the night spent with Gale gives him a slight uneasiness. “That’s a word for it.” He disapproves of using the word “Fun” after the Mayrina/Connor situation, in which scene Gale alludes that “your new company may be a proof of how depraved and twisted you are to see that tragedy as “fun”. Personally I think this is a direct allusion to Astarion, who considers Mayrina's situation as “entertainment”, in the same way he considered as “fun” the show of Arabella's death (two of several instances where he used that word). Gale also doesn’t use the word sex during EA, instead he uses romantic ones such as love-making, intimacy, art of the night/body. In the most technical case: coitus (used only when he is talking about “goblinoid intimacy” in the expression “post-coital snack”). These details are showing not only his poet/romantic side, but also his interpretation of sex from his perspective: sex can only be possible through a connection. We know he doesn’t engage in casual sex with Lae’zel if he is not romanced, and his romance can only potentially start if Tav shares that deep connection with him through the Weave.
Another detail related to words is that Gale has always used an infection/disease-related vocabulary to explain the “orb” stuck in his chest: infested, taint, shadow spreading
[…] I failed to control [this chaotic magic]. Instead it infested me. […] This Netherese taint... this orb, for lack of a better word [..] […] the shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [...]
Gale apparently has a particular way to sense magic. I have no way to check this in-game, but it seems very strange how he immediately identifies magical artifacts without casting Detect Magic. There are some extra scenes as well where he says to taste or smell the magic in some objects. Even his encounter with Shadowheart, besides being considered a flirt, could be also interpreted as him detecting the magic that we saw later in her hand or maybe the dark magic that blocks her memories, since Gale pointed out about a curtain covering her soul: “if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror” (a very ominous flirting if it’s only a flirt)
This makes me suspect that, if the "orb" is not giving him this skill, it may be a consequence of having been Chosen of Mystra (for more details read the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones"). If this is the case, he may have hindered remains of theirs powers when it comes to detect magic at will.
Gale has a perception of magic with all the senses: he sniffs and tastes magic. During the mirror scene you have an option related to [Arcana] tag where he “Sniff the mirror, trying to understand the nature of its magic”. A wizard Tav will just “Inspect the mirror”. He also said that he could “taste” the magic in the necromancy book and in the runes of teleportation.
What we know of his family is little: when he was a kid there was a housekeeper in his life (mentioned only once during the scene of the harpies) and his mother that seemed to have personally raised and cared for him (mentioned twice: in the ruin temple scene, and in his banter with Wyll)
Tav: Why care about decorum in a long-abandoned tomb? Gale: Because my mother raised a gentleman. Then again, to be alive is to be curious.
Wyll: Between the orb and the bug you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say. Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.
This post was written in May 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index
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uuuu can i get the directors cut on the story light it up from when stars ignite. Honestly that series is amazing!!!!
Thank your for the ask and the super nice words! I'm so happy you're enjoying this fic as much as we/I do 💛💛💛
Okay, Light It Up is the opening chapter of When Stars Ignite, and as such, it naturally is one of the most trickiest to write.
Getting the first chapter of a story right is honestly the hardest thing ever. While I usually have a pretty good idea on how to end very early in the writing/scripting process, typing the first words of a new project into a blank doc is daunting, to put it mildly.
That's the exact problem I faced here - I know I wanted to start with the end of their first show after their touring break, and I had the scene in my head, but how to actually begin took me forever to figure out. I usually like to use a cinematic approach in my writing, starting at the general scenery and circling in on the scene I want to describe, but that wasn't fitting here at all, since we were jumping right into the action. That's why, eventually, I went for Orion just being done with his solo performance.
Another thing that's super hard in the first (couple of) chapters is the exposition. Ugh. Show me one writer who enjoys doing expo. Literally the worst thing.
But it's necessary to describe the setting, the featured characters, and set up the premise. Something that was double tricky in Light It Up in particular, was that I knew @the-al-chemist had her own expo take on the band members later when Artemis first meets them. We had to check to not have too many things double, and I briefly considered cutting the character introduction in this chapter, but since it's the opener, that wasn't really a good option.
The undoubtedly most difficult thing with an opening chapter - and this one here in particular - has to be the missing feeling for the story you're about to write. At least, that's the case for me. Each of my WIPs has a certain feeling/atmosphere to me, and while I get a glimpse of it while scripting and planning, it really only shows itself once I start writing. How do the characters talk? How do they think and feel? What's the mood of the story/chapter/scene? Getting these things right is vital for me, and until I have found this place that is different for each project, it's a little like fishing in muddy waters (and when reading back, I can always tell where the point was where I found the mood, lol).
A little fun fact as a bonus: What Orion thinks about Lizzie while they are on stage were the first words written for Rockstar ever. Ever ever. Long before there was a plot or plan to make this longer than three chapters (... sigh), I had this little snippet written on my phone. It sprang onto me when Al and I first talked about it and I just had to write it down. We actually considered cutting it out, because originally the plan was to reveal the "relationship" between Lizzie and Orion only in the second chapter, but we both liked it too much to leave out.
Thank you for asking and reading, it really means the world 💛💛💛
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Queen live at New London Theatre in London, UK - October 6, 1977
After doing the video shoot for We Are The Champions with members of the fan club in the audience, the band played an unexpected set afterward. The event was MC'd by Bob Harris, who announces to the fans before the video shoot that the band will play a special set just for them after a few takes of Champions. The fans are excited beyond belief by this proclamation, as it is a complete surprise to them. Between takes, Bob says there are extra cameras present to film a Queen documentary to be seen around Christmas or in the new year, but the documentary would never make it past the final editing stage. 1977 was a year of transition for Queen, and this unique live set gives a very telling glimpse of where the band are heading. Sitting at the piano before Somebody To Love, Freddie says, "I must say, this is more interesting than doing Earls Court, I think," much to the delight of the few hundred on hand (most of whom probably attended the Earls Court shows!). Brian messes up the queue back into the song after Freddie's vocal solo and remarks afterwards that it was "A little rusty there, I think." Freddie then says, "It's right into the microphone," perhaps indicating that shouldn't have been said out loud. He quickly changes the subject and asks what the audience would like to hear next. Amongst the shouts are Liar, Great King Rat, Stone Cold Crazy, even the non-album track Hangman - and Freddie saying with a chuckle, "We've done We Are The Champions!" The loose and experimental version of White Man / The Prophet's Song sounds much more like the middle section of (the not-yet-released) Get Down Make Love, because it's Brian's guitar that has the harmonization effects rather than Freddie's voice. This is the first time Brian would use the EBow on stage. After a superb version of Liar, the band play the first half of Bohemian Rhapsody. After May's guitar solo, he launches right into Now I'm Here since backing tapes aren't being used at this show. This is notably the first time the high guitar parts aren't heard after "I'm just a" on playback (until now the sample from the album was triggered by the front of house sound engineer). Overall the band are in fine form, and they are clearly happy to give the fan club members a great set. Also worth noting is that this is undoubtedly the greatest live version of See What A Fool I've Been. Freddie sings it passionately and aggressively, a complete 180 from the campy delivery of the studio version. His voice is much more accomplished, having blossomed greatly in the year and a half since they had last played the song. This would turn out to be the final performance of the Seven Seas Of Rhye B-side. In a radio interview done in Argentina in 1981, Roger Taylor reflected that Freddie had "improved by leaps and bounds," calling the early years of Queen "an incredible transition." This show reveals that transformation taking place in real time. The first pic is the official invitation for fan club members to attend the event. Pics 1 through 5 were taken by Paul Holmes, who also scanned the Winter '77 fan club magazine pic. Pics 6 through 12 were taken by David King, and pic 13 was taken by Gillian Parry. For years it has been rumoured that video footage of the live set exists, but it almost certainly wasn't filmed. The black and white footage of Jailhouse Rock in the American Dream documentary in the News Of The World box set is from Houston.
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