#lets be real hes a better option than our current ones

[redhoodie1723]

esteban ocon being considered really tall when he's shorter than my dad, brothers, and a lot of my male friends is so funny to me

part 2 part 3

[hairyjocktf]

Building a New Life

Justin was the star wrestler at his high school. He had won regional titles and the adoration of all the local families for years, and was ready to head to college to continue his streak. Senior year he was at his peak, winning matches left and right. All he had to do was wait for those recruitment offers to roll in. He waited and waited, still kicking ass in his wrestling, but while everyone around him was committing and getting accepted, there were no letters to him. To his dismay, one never came. His plans for the future were shattered, what was he supposed to do now? The wrestling scholarship was his only shot for college.

With the year ending and not many options, Justin started looking for entry level jobs that would take him. He lived in a fairly rural area so most of what he found was either farm work or construction, and the latter paid better. He called one of them up and they told him to swing by the site a few days later. He drove out to the construction site later that week and walked into the mobile office they had there. The manager came out to greet him. He was a rugged man in his late 40’s, with a stocky build and thick stubble. He’d clearly been in the business for years and it showed through his worn hands and gruff voice from yelling orders at his lackeys. The man looked Justin up and down.

“A little scrawny but I can work with it,” he said after a few seconds.

“I was a top wrestler in the region!” Justin protested. 

“Doesn’t matter in this industry,” the man said flatly. “Can you handle heavy loads and equipment? Can you deal with being outside most of the day in rough weather?”

Justin was caught off guard, usually people were much nicer to him. “Of course I can! I can handle whatever you throw at me,” he assured.

“Well alright, If you think you can handle it let’s see how you do here,” the manager said, handing a pile of clothes to Justin. “Here’s your safety and HiVis gear, make sure it fits and then we’ll get you set up outside.”

Justin took his uniform to the bathroom to try it on real quick. It included a hard hat that was adjustable, which he fit to his head, a bright orange and yellow HiVis vest, and a couple other things. He put it all on and stepped back into the office. 

“Alright follow me, Justin was it?” the manager gestured towards the door.

“Yes sir,” Justin responded uncharacteristically.

“Name’s Blaine, the manager revealed, “Around here we usually work on residential projects, we’re currently assisting on a development outside of town.” He led them away from the office around the immediate site, which currently seemed to be mostly used as storage for equipment and materials. “Since you’ve got no experience you’ll start by shadowing some of our guys for a few weeks and handling more basic tasks til you’re ready for more,” he continued. “You can head back to the office and they'll take care of the nitty gritty for ya. I’m expecting great things from you, wrestler,” Blaine laughed as he left Justin and headed out towards the development. Justin heard his gruff voice booming in the distance as he barked orders to the workers.

Justin was unsure about all of this, but he didn’t really have a better option at the moment. He felt out of place in his new safety gear, and he was younger than nearly everyone he saw working. He took care of the paperwork and headed home for the day; they'd hired him on the spot to start the next morning. With considerable unease, he went to bed, closing one chapter of his life for the next. 

As the weeks went by Justin began acclimating to this new job fairly well. He got to know the guys he worked with, learned how to use the equipment, and began to feel comfortable on the site. He even felt like he had put on some mass to better handle all the physical work he was doing. His rock solid abs were a little less visible than they had been but for some reason that didn’t bother him. He was already starting to forget the sting of not being recruited for wrestling. Every day he came into work those past dreams seemed to fade a little more, replaced by his new life. His coworkers had made fun of him for having such a baby face at the beginning, but now he was starting to sport a little bit of stubble. Justin was slowly starting to blend in more with his new crowd.

The months continued to pass, with Justin becoming more and more entrenched in his new construction life. It was getting colder outside, and his body began to adjust without him even noticing. His stubble grew out into a real beard, short and dense. He began packing on more body fat as he spent less and less time at the gym and more and more working and drinking with his new bros. His voice began to sound a little deeper and rougher, matching those around him. The hard hat really suited him now with his more rugged looks. He had never been a good student in school but he seemed to really be taking to this new job, completely forgetting about his old goals. The occassional approving nod from Blaine was driving him forward. He was thriving in this new position, but the job wasn’t done with him yet.

Unbeknownst to Justin, under his thick winter clothes things were changing. His previously toned body, while still fairly muscular, was steadily becoming thicker with fat. Not only that, but he’d always been near perfectly smooth and that too was slowly changing. It had started with his chest, where on the previously bare skin thin wispy hairs had started to poke out. That didn’t last long though, as they were quickly overrun with thicker, darker hairs that began sprouting in between his pecs. They grew curly as they spread out, covering his entire chest in hair, spreading up across his collarbone and down across his slowly growing stomach. The new hairy coat was just another part of his insulation against the harsh winter weather. But the hairs didn’t stop there either. His pits erupted with thick wiry hairs, coating his underarms in curly hairs that trapped both heat and sweat. The hairs pushed out, tangling together as they formed a thick tuft of hair under each arm, even spreading out to connect with the rug on his chest. After each day of hard work he’d come home stinking like the other men he worked with, and over time he started to enjoy the musk he produced.

Of course he wasn’t done filling out his uniform quite yet. His formerly modest bush began growing with no end in sight, engulfing his groin in thick, wiry brown hairs that radiated out from his lengthening cock. Sometimes while on the site Justin would instinctively reach down in his pants to itch the growing bush, the feeling and texture of it driving him wild. With pubes erupting day and night his musk only grew stronger, as Justin began to truly have a manly aura around him that he’d never had before. It seemed to help him bond with the other guys more, as they welcomed him into their groups and invited him out more and more frequently. Underneath his work pants his legs bulked up considerably from carrying all sorts of materials around, followed closely by the same dark fur. It raced down his legs and coated them with curly hairs that rubbed against the inside of his increasingly tight jeans as he walked around, an almost arousing feeling. Within the first year of working Justin had gone up four sizes in his work boots, as his feet grew and widened to match the rest of him. The massive steel-toed boots hid how hairy his feet had gotten, with dark hairs covering the tops and toes.

The next year was largely the same. Justin continued slowly changing to better fit his new job. He was really beginning to excel at it, and he’d attained a close friendship with many of the men he worked with. It almost seemed as if he’d aged ten years over the last one, he certainly looked it at this point. His fur coat only thickened, growing even denser across his chest and stomach to the point you could barely see the skin beneath the hairs. Hair had also spread up and onto his shoulders before enveloping his massive back. The hairs gushed out across his shoulder blades before shooting down his spine and spreading out wide. The heavy coating slowly grew thicker and spread out further as time went on, reaching down to his ass. It too became covered with thick, dark hairs as it inflated to a truly massive size. During the warmer months sometimes he just wore his vest and hard hat, his incredibly thick hair covering the rest of him and sticking through his vest.

Justin earned the nickname ‘Grizzly’ from his coworkers after they saw how hairy he’d gotten, and his body had put on the size to match. Gone was the small but toned body of a wrestler, replaced by a thick, hairy, and sturdy body of a weathered construction worker. He oozed masculinity from not only his stained and dirty work clothes, but from the thick chest hair that he left his shirt open to show off. His entire body was now coated with a dense coat of hair and he liked to make that known, as long as he wasn’t caught against safety regulations at least. He never questioned why he’d changed so much in such a short span, it never even occurred to him, and honestly he liked his new life. He was just one of the guys working on the site now. The hair felt as natural to him as anything else, and the other guys seemed to like it even if they made fun of him once in a while. Occasionally when they went out drinking some of the guys would have too many beers and start rubbing their hands through his thick fur, but he didn’t mind at all. It felt good to be masculine, and to be appreciated for it by other guys. Months continued to pass though no one could really remember how long Justin had been working there at this point, but they were all glad he was there. He was the best construction worker on their team.

[johnbrand]

First Session

As a therapist, Jay understood that trust was key, that was why he was currently lounging back into the fainting couch as his client entered the room. Fairly short, pudgy, and deemed “hardly enticing” by an ex-boyfriend, Jay knew he did not come off as intimidating. But this trick of letting his client play the therapist-role during their first session had yet to fail him. So as he watched the tall, young, muscular male approach, Jay’s confidence did not once sway.

“Doctor?” the client’s voice held arrogance and lacked maturity.

“Michael,” Jay extended a hand, noting a smirk emerging from Michael’s face as his meaty mitt enveloped the therapist’s. While the jock was dressed in the local university’s gear, Jay was currently displaying one of his finest suits. “Jay will do just fine.”

“Alright, Jay,” Michael replied, testing it out. “Where would you like me to sit?”

I ushered him to the chair: “For our first session, I like to have clients take on my role. Learn more about me, get to know my background. Trust is a two-way street after all.”

A cocky weight befell the jock’s tone. “So I can ask about anything?”

Jay nodded. Michael took a moment before continuing, “Well I can see why you went into this line of work. The kinds of people you cure must trust an attractive guy like you to fix them.” 

Jay was not sure how to respond. For a second he wondered if Michael was trying to deploy some sort of superiority tactic. But Jay was being too hard on himself. He had fostered his share of boyfriends over the years. His sharp, angular face was typically enough to at least get his clients' attention. Maybe Jay’s pretty privilege did help him with his work.

“You’ll have to share your workout plan with me too. You look better than half the guys on the team,” Michael added.

Jay felt a little uncomfortable. Had he ever visited a gym before? Sure his body looked great. The chiseled abs and wide shoulders gave his torso a very athletic shape. But it felt strange to admit that Jay worked out that much, even if he could recall countless memories going to the gym and exercising. Jay took a moment to refocus back onto his client. If Michael really wanted to know his routine for a great body, he would be happy to oblige.

“I guess guys our size have to be this big, right? We were practically born for the brawn.” Jay smiled politely at Michael, his eyeline adjusting momentarily. He was probably right though, being 6’3 meant either being skinny as a rail or built like a bull, and Jay preferred the latter. “It’s great that you dress as casually as you are too, it really reflects that personality.”

“To be honest, formal options for guys our size are just way too expensive. Even for me.” Jay chuckled, flashing his signature white teeth framed by a perfect beard. It is also a great way to flex my physique, Jay thought inwardly. His short-sleeved button-down left nothing to the imagination, with meaty arms stretching the seams and the tops of his hairy pecs leading the viewer down towards his ample crotch. Venturing further, one could trace Jay's thick, long legs all the way down to his sizable bare feet. “If I wouldn’t have known any better, Michael, I would have thought that was a compliment.”

“Bet you get those a lot from your clients,” Michael grinned. “The fags probably love spending time alone with a real man.”

Jay paused, his interest suddenly alerted. “What do you mean by that?”

Michael’s response reeked of innocence. “Oh, sorry I thought you were a therapist-”

“I am.” Jay's interruption was firm.

“-a conversion therapist,” Michael finished with a snarl. “Isn’t it your job to bring those sissies back to manhood. Classic, old-fashioned masculinity? I'd think you'd be pretty proud of it too.”

Jay remained still for a moment, frozen. Then, as if the answer had magically appeared, he replied: “Yes, you are correct, and I have yet to have anything but success. Although judging by this session, it appears you will not be added to that list.”

Michael chuckled, “So those studies really did allow you to sniff out a proper alpha. I’m really here just to scout you out, get your vibe before sending a classmate of mine your way. He needs to be ‘straightened out,’ if you catch my drift.”

“I’d be happy to,” Jay’s brilliant smile appeared once more, now broadcasting a more sinister, malicious bite.

Michael rose, “Good, I’ll be in contact with you shortly.”

“Thank you for your time, Michael.” The therapist did not get up from his position, instead cockily adjusting himself into a more enticing, predatory pose. “On your way out, would you mind sending the next client in?”

“I’d be more than happy too.”

[nwjws]

who the hell is ni-ki ?! - FIFTEEN

; SYNOPSIS - school sucks. especially when everyone’s avoiding you like the plague - all because you’re the principal’s daughter. so it comes as a surprise when a strip of paper falls out of your locker one day, with a corny pick up line written on it. now you only have one question on your mind: who the hell is nishimura riki?

FIFTEEN ...let me hold them for you 🫶 (2.1k words + smau)

"one more! one more!" danielle cheered as you aimed another dart at a balloon pinned on the board.

you held your breath as you watched the dart fly through the air, spinning as it zoomed closer and closer to what would hopefully be your fifth balloon popped this round.

the game, named 'pop the balloon', was what you were currently playing at the gyeoul carnival. the idea was that if you had five darts, and you had to hit a balloon with each one. unless you missed, you would then be rewarded with a prize of your choice - like a box of chocolates or small plushies.

minji, hanni, and danielle burst into cheers and jumped as they hugged you when your final dart popped the last balloon. you had won the game, and now you could choose a prize.

"take that box of chocolate," minji pointed at one of the options. "i really want the fererro rocher."

"am i choosing, or are you?" you arched an eyebrow at her.

"i'm just giving advice," she shrugged.

"that doesn't sound like good advice," hanni nudged her. "choose what you want, y/n."

"okay," and you reached for a plush duck hanging at the stall, much to minji's disappointment.

"you can play and get that box yourself," you laughed at her exaggerated pout.

"i'll never hit five balloons - did you see how far apart they are?"

"that sounds like a you problem," danielle says, taking the toy from your hands and playing with it.

"it's so cute," you say.

"talking about me, i hope?"

you four turn to the voice, finding riki grinning at you. you'd recognise his deep voice anywhere.

"you are the furthest thing from cute," danielle rolls her eyes.

"y/n seems to think otherwise!" hanni teases, causing you to glare at her.

"hi riki! have you played any of the games yet?"

"nope," he said, popping the 'p'. "jungwon let me go from volunteer work just now - not that i even volunteered in the first place." you noticed the cute scrunch of his nose as he talked, and found it endearing.

"perks of being friends with the student president!" you chuckle.

"you're right, i got to be incredibly rude to the customers, and had every right to be. you should've heard him sighing every other minute, but he couldn't say anything."

"you're so mean," minji says.

"i'm still not listening to you," he turns away from her.

"aw, let me go cry about it in a corner real quick," she mocks him.

"i'd prefer if you took your time, actually."

"okay, let's go play tug-of-war!" you interject before they could get into another row.

"that requires five people on one team, though," hanni tells you.

"he can join then," you suggest, pointing your thumb back at riki. "are you okay with that?"

"better than working at the limbo stand with sunghoon," he shrugs.

the five of you play five rounds of tug-of-war, going against different teams each time. you have to admit, without riki, you and your friends would have never won a single round. his help had let you guys win every one.

"my hands are so tired and sore," minji complained, showing you her hands. they had red marks from the rope, similar to you and the others.

danielle and hanni joined you two in comparing your palms, holding them out in the middle of your little circle. riki came and held out his own palms too.

"woah, riki's hands are way more red," hanni gawked.

"to be fair, he did carry our team," you say. "you really put your all into it, huh?"

"it's all or nothing," he smiled.

he looked down at your hands and took one by the wrist. you watched curiously as he pressed your palms together, holding your hands up in the air.

"my hands are way bigger than yours," he remarks.

"maybe that's why your grip on the rope was better," you wonder, skin tingling where it met his. "my fingers look tiny next to yours."

"they do!" he laughs, eyes wide at the large difference in sizes.

then he shifted his hand so your fingers were no longer aligned, and grinned cheekily as he intertwined your hands. your hands fit perfectly, as if the gaps between your fingers were meant for his.

your eyes widen in surprise and you have to look away to hide the heat rushing to your face, only to be faced with your friends' smirks.

"getting bold, nishimura," hanni comments.

he just laughs as he swings your hands between you two, holding onto them.

hanni and minji decided to go and get face paint, while danielle went to go get some food, since she'd begun to get hungry after all those games. you and riki went and played more of the activities, making up for the time he'd missed serving at the limbo stand jungwon forced him to work at.

you walked over to the three-legged race game, getting in line as riki went to the toilet.

“make sure you have a partner!” a student you recognised as leehan stationed at the activity was shouting to everyone in line. “otherwise we’ll pair you up with someone random!”

you noticed a few nervous glances sent your way, worried that they’d be paired with you, seeing you were alone. you sighed in familiar disappointment.

“hello,” the student at the desk greeted you when you were up front. it was eunchae. “where’s your partner?” she asked, not needing to ask for your name.

“oh, he’s not here yet.”

“if he doesn’t come soon, we’ll have to pair you up with someone else,” she frowned. you could hear the line behind you going quiet, holding their breaths.

“is there anyone else who’s alone?” eunchae yelled, leaning to look at the others behind you.

you looked to see everyone turn away, avoiding eye contact. they didn’t want to be paired with the principal’s daughter. you weren’t planning on playing with anyone other than riki in the first place, but your heart still sank when people didn’t even try to hide their dislike for you.

“i’m sorry, y/n. if no one goes with you, you can’t play.”

“i’m going with her.”

you released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding when you heard riki’s voice.

“nishimura riki?” eunchae said in surprise, but started writing his name next to yours nonetheless.

leehan handed you two a fabric cloth, which you had to use to tie two of your legs together.

you guys hopped around, testing out your new third leg. however, you stepped a little too far at one point, and your leg binded to riki’s had you falling over.

“woah!” he exclaimed and grabbed for your upper arm. “careful.”

“thanks,” you tell him. he had saved you from planting straight into the ground.

“better hold on,” he says, wrapping your arm around his own. you guys limp your way to the starting line, and wait for the race to start.

when leehan yelled ‘go!’, you and riki started running, or more like staggering forward.

“okay, we need to do have a strategy,” you giggle. “tied leg first, then ours.”

you both chanted that to yourselves, laughing and trying not to trip over. soon you got used to it, and your speed picked up, slowly overtaking the other pairs running.

as you guys went, you felt too aware of riki’s arm wrapped around your waist. he hugged you close as you both (attempted) to run, while you held onto his shoulder for support. you kept your head down, watching your steps, trying to hide the furious blush that was no doubt on your face.

riki’s laugh echoed through your ears as you two made your way to the finish line, the last pair to finish the race.

“we’re terrible,” he shook with laughter.

“it was because of you,” you teased, poking his stomach.

“nuh-uh! you were definitely too slow.” he poked you back, and realised you were ticklish when you involuntarily jerked and started giggling.

he started chasing you as you ran way to try and avoid his tickles, cackling behind you as you sprinted for your life.

“hey!” you yelled when he caught your wrist, and you tripped onto the ground, causing him to topple over with you.

you giggled uncontrollably as he poked your sides; you didn’t even realise you were this ticklish. your own laughter died down as he slowly came to a stop, finally letting you breathe in some air.

the air was knocked out of you again though, when you realised how close your faces were.

his eyes sparkled as you saw your reflection in them, so close you could count his eyelashes. the moles on his face really were pretty, and his soft lips gaping open at you squeezed your heart.

“sorry,” he says climbing off of you, and you sit up on the grass of the field.

looking around, you see some people giving you curious looks, some very obviously trying not to stare.

“um,” is your intelligent response. “thanks, by the way. for earlier.”

“for what?” he tilted his head, confused.

“when you kept me from falling. i should also thank you for saving me embarrassment when you came at the right moment.”

“no worries, i should’ve came earlier. those people were treating you like a you were an alien.”

“ugh, i know,” you groan, lying back onto the ground. “they were scared of being paired up with the principal’s daughter, or something. they always are.”

“scared of you?”

“yeah,” you huff. “ever since i came, people never tried talking to me after finding out my dad was the new principal.”

“really? your dad isn’t even that scary.”

“you were literally scared he didn’t approve of you being my friend,” you remind him.

“right, well,” he chuckles awkwardly. “but he’s pretty nice, actually. i just thought he would go all protective over you.”

“maybe that’s why no one talks to me. was it like this with the last principal’s kid?”

“no, she didn’t have any kids at school. they were all at college.”

“oh.”

“you look exhausted.”

“i am.”

“tell me about it.”

and then you did. you told him about how tired you were of being seen only as ‘the principal’s daughter’, like some kind of character. how everyone’s too intimidated by you to even look your way, and how that’s stopped you from being able to make friends.

everyone had isolated you, making you out to be something to gawk at, and not touch. you wished people thought of you as more than your father’s daughter - as an actual person.

and riki listened. he listened attentively, like he promised. he nodded and stared at you unblinkingly, as if he was afraid that if he closed his eyes for just a moment, you’d disappear.

you had told all this to your friends before - it’s come up in several conversations. but when it was riki you were talking to, you felt free. you felt like he understood you on a deeper level than your friends. maybe he did.

“you get me, don’t you?”

his eyes widened when you directed your question at him.

“well- yeah… i guess. but i want to talk about you, or more like hear your voice.”

“thank you, riki. i’ve never felt more heard than now.”

you could tell he felt the same.

after getting to know him, you realised that everyone often saw him as a character too. he was regarded as the one that broke the rules, and did whatever he liked. no one really cared or wondered if he himself was okay, all they saw was another exhibit to point at.

you wondered if everyone was like this - if everyone you saw was really more of a character than who they really were. was there anyone out there who was actually seen for who they were? or do we all stereotype everyone into a character before we even really know them?

right then, you decided you wanted to break out of the mould the school had created for you. and after befriending riki, you knew exactly how.

“i have an idea.”

“uh oh,” he responded, but a smile tugged at his lips. “you’re planning something.”

“i am. i think i don’t want to be this ‘innocent’ and ‘clean’ person anymore. are you in with me?”

“what if i’m not? what if i want to be the ‘innocent’ and ‘clean’ person this time?”

“then i won’t involve you.”

you smiled at him, and he smiled back at you.

— FOURTEEN ; MASTERLIST ; SIXTEEN

; AUTHOR’S CORNER ! posting earlier in the day bc guess who just passed driving school and got her DRIVER'S LICENSEEEE also sorry this ended up quite long and a little philosophical at the end LOL

; TAGLIST - @riziwon @gweoriz @yenqa @miyseung @beomgyusonlywife @luvlee1313 @wildflowermooon @pookikisses @j-wyoung @n0t-kc @chiiiiiiiiis @ghostiiess @mrchweeee @jjongshrts @luvistqrzzz @lilriswife4life @aikoluvssyouu @cholexc @bahngchatsfx @teddywonss @woniewonn @artstaeh @thesassy-mia @moaqong @itsactuallylina @armydrcamers @mowagyu @yumilovesloona @ibsysbsfsunsbs @ashy1um @ahnneyong @jakelux @jaeminri @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @ririlovesrenjun @sloobydooburmomjungwon @kyanmeai @lazy-miya @bbybearcubbs @hwasfavgf @girlhees @seungified @softieluvsyou @flwoie @y0iy0i @microwvdstrawb3rri3s send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added .

[zara-renata]

Hello! I just wanted to say I'm absolutely OBSESSED with the sylus series. Every update you make also makes my day ❤️ if it's ok, I wanted to ask a question, and if it's something that's upcoming in the fic please feel free to disregard this part. How do you think your written MC would handle knowing about sylus knowing past versions of MC and the history there? They seem to struggle with self esteem so im wondering if the knowledge that Sylus' interest is due in part not to them as they are now would be something....hard to digest(?) Like the self sabotage would kick in "ohhhh it's not me I'm a placeholder" mentality. Sorry if that doesn't make much sense 😥

Hello to you too! Thank you so much for this kind message! I'm really glad you're enjoying the fic, and it's amazing to hear that it's enough to make your day. I am enjoying writing it so much, but I still feel a lot of anxiety posting when I've finished something new. I haven't really written for fandom with any kind of consistency for a long time, and even back when I started, it was sporadic. I'm trying very hard to not worry about how well it will be received and to just try to enjoy the inspiration I currently have with the LADS universe and Sylus in particular, but messages like this are always so welcome and appreciated. As for your question, I'm going to put it under the cut because it may end up being spoilerish?? If I ever address it in this series. Thank you again so much for this kind ask!

So to preface this, I have a bunch of ideas regarding where i want this fic to go, but actually planning? and outline? i don't know her. it's basically like... i need to see sylus and mc at a fancy banquet. I need to see mc kidnapped because sylus is a crime lord. i need to see hurt/comfort in every single one of them. so I don't have a plan, and I don't know if i'll get to writing specifically about your question. but if I do! this might end up being spoilery, in which case I'm sorry for the future repetition! ok since i can't have two 'under the cuts', here's a palate cleanser if you want to stop reading.

Your question absolutely makes sense! I think it's a natural question to have, no matter your level of self esteem. We all want to know the reasons why people love us! I always feel big disappointment when this question comes up in a love story and the answer is ... "because you're you." Uuh, no buddy, I need details and receipts, please and thank you. And I also think that in a universe where past lives are real, and the person who loves you may have had feelings for a version of you from a past life, a natural question for anyone is "Does this person really love me, who I am on the inside now, or does this person love the shape of me, simply because I look and sound like the person he loved?" And for people who find it hard to accept that anyone could love them, like our mc in this series, it would take more convincing that yes, in fact, it's you, you in particular, in this life that he loves, just as he loved you in past lives, even though past you was not the same. So I can definitely see this mc going into what you describe as self-sabotage mode, and needing a shit-ton of reassurance from Sylus that this mc is enough, if not better, than past iterations of mc. Like, it's clear that Sylus's initial interest is because he knows you from the past, but you're still you. You're still a warrior, and incredibly skillful and strong- even canon mc (who i'll refer to as she since infold won't allow more options) in the game is competent, at least in battle, even if sometimes she is a bit cringe or silly because the writers seem to think that she needs to be nerfed on occasion to let the boys shine. But honestly that doesn't happen as much as I would expect based on other otome games i've played. but i digress! I definitely think a big source of angst after Sylus and the mc from this series become romantically involved would be from learning that not only had he not revealed their shared past earlier, but wrestling with the doubt you mentioned in your ask, of "Does he love me for me as I am now, or because I'm a good enough replacement?"

And Sylus's answer would be a resounding "I love you for who you are now, how could I not love someone who surprises me every day with all the emotions you carry inside you and can't hide, when I myself haven't felt much emotion in so long. how can I not love someone who despite being so hurt, is strong enough to keep trying to defend the weak, to keep fighting even when you're on the ropes. how could I not love someone who is funny and smart, and tries to fill my bedroom with plants because I miss the plants that grow everywhere but inside the n109 zone, a place I have to live in because it protects me from the sun and it's where my empire is even though I hate it."

And even further than that, because this is a comforting fantasy for me and maybe for others because we all want to think we are singularly unique for the person who loves us, even though in real life you can love more than one person in your life and all of those loves are valid, and polyamory does exist and is valid, BUT for me personally i like to think that sylus can even love this mc more than past mcs. Like i allude to in the series based on that evil villain bit he gives you about all the crimes you have committed or will commit, i have this idea that the mc he loved was a lot crueler than this mc. just based on how starved he is for touch and how he lights the fuck up if you're even a tiny bit nice to him, i think that the crumbs of affection that previous mc may have given him were enough to satisfy him because he did love that mc, even though they may have been a lot harsher. but when he meets our mc, who is already prepared to protect and care for him with everything in them despite what a dickhead he is when we first meet him, the returned affection and devotion that this mc provides for him is a feast that he almost does not know how to properly process, and he loves this mc as much, if not more, than the other mcs that he has cared for.

ok and now i'm done, i'm sorry if this is WAY more than you were looking for. In the end it would be angsty but sylus will prevail because he loves you so, so much!

[aslitheryprinx]

Hermits in Space au! :D thought I'd share a short drabble from the gladiator group. Let's see what Gem and friends are up to, shall we?

~~~

Morning Routine in the Ring

~~~

Gem blinked awake to the sound of the breakfast bell. For a disoriented moment, she thought it was her alarm clock. Then, as she woke up, she remembered that she was currently on an alien planet and thus did not have access to her alarm clock. 

She groaned and pulled her pillow-like cushion over her head. Like every morning, she was tempted to go back to sleep. Also like every morning, before she could, a loud twittering noise similar to a bird kept her from drifting off. 

“Good morning, Pearl,” she replied to the greeting resentfully. When she removed the pillow from her face, her roommate, who was an alien species called an Avian, was standing there with a distinctly amused expression. 

Gem would throw the not-quite-pillow if she wasn’t absolutely certain Pearl would catch it. Instead, she launched it across the room in the vague direction of Joel, the only one of her dormmates who hated mornings more than her. She heard a yelp that meant her aim was true, and tried not to smirk too obviously. 

“Good morning, Gem,” said Xisuma, the only other human in the dorm. Really, she and X were probably the only two humans on the planet. 

“Morning, ‘suma,” Gem said with a sigh. She heard the morning greetings of Joel, with a high pitched bark and Ren with his deeper growl. She called back tired replies, then forced herself out of her nest-like bed. 

It had become a tradition for the five roommates to say good morning in their native tongues. Really, they said most things in their native tongues. Neither Gem or Xisuma had gotten a great grasp on Common yet- annoyingly ‘Suma was a bit further along than Gem had managed- so there was no point in speaking Common unless around other gladiators. 

“Your day with the translator, Gem,” X said, and that was all the warning she got before he tossed it her way. Still half-asleep or not, her reflexes were battle tested now. Her hand shot up to grab the tiny device before she was conscious of the motion. 

Adrenaline now pumping, she glared at her friend. 

“I told you to stop doing that!” she complained. 

“But it wakes you up so quickly!” 

“If you break our only translator, I’m gonna kill you.” As she threatened X, she slipped on the small device. 

Putting on a translator was always a little disorienting. There was a moment where it felt like she forgot all knowledge of language at all and another moment where it felt she knew every language all at once as the translator connected to her brain. Then, as the connection settled, it bridged the gap between the two. 

“Hi, Gem,” Pearl chirped with a grin. Gem grinned back. 

“Hi, Pearl,” she said. It was always nice when they could actually understand each other. 

“Gem, your pillow hit my eye!” Joel complained. “You and me, to the death in training today.” 

Normally, she’d accept Joel’s overdramatic challenge- she and Joel were probably the most evenly matched in fighting styles- but today was different. Letting her smugness be heard, she said, “No training for me. I have a match today.” 

Immediately, every one of her friends perked up. 

“Oh I forgot about that,” said Pearl. 

“You’re going to do great,” Ren told her, his tail wagging gently with excitement. 

In the competitive world of the Ring, real matches were important. The more matches your group won, the more privileges and amenities you had. Gladiators weren’t paid, so victories were the only way to earn things like better rooms or the best training times. 

It was kinda messed up, in Gem’s opinion, but it wasn’t like any of them had a better option. The Ring was a thousand times better than the poachers she and X had originally been picked up by. And even if they did pay in real money, it's not like they’d know where to go. Content really wasn’t the right word for how she felt about her situation, but at least she had friends and all her basic needs met. 

Gem actually enjoyed fighting. There was something satisfying about using all of her skills and strategy to take down an equally skilled opponent. Even the losses didn’t feel too bad, because she got better every time. She knew the whole system was designed to make it hard for gladiators to actually leave, but the accomplishments still felt good. 

Right now, their group was working towards another translator so she and X didn’t have to share one. Usually, everyone in a group got one on arrival, but the Ring had been short of funds when she and X were taken here. They’d never got their second translator because she and Xisuma could translate for each other with relative ease. If she won this match, though, they might not need to for much longer. 

Still excited from the reminder of Gem’s match, the group chattered all the way to breakfast.

[ebonysplendor]

Where Winter Crows Go Review ❄️🐦‍⬛

TL;DR: Chaga mushrooms ain't the only thing that Crowe be foraging, but this time he doesn't want to share the spoils with the squad for research purposes.

Game Link: https://prikarin.itch.io/where-winter-crows-go

Notable Features: Gender Neutral MC, Optional Reader-Insert with choice of pronouns, Yandere LI, 17+ Spiciness: 1/5 -- It gets a little flirty, but it's sweet and innocent LI Red Flags: 3/5 -- Manipulative, little hands on, has a temper

Want to know more? Well, let's get into it!

Okay, so, the full release finally came, and ya girl was SO excited! The demo was very promising, but I needed a little more convincing. That being said, this wasn't by any means one of the one's that I was the most ecstatic about, but I was still excited enough about it to check back occasionally for the full release. I just so happened to get lucky recently and saw that it had actually dropped back in November. So, I was late, but not embarrassingly so. Now, this review on the other hand... But listen! I just recently decided to take the plunge and start making reviews, so mind ya business lol.

Anyways, this isn't about me and my tardiness, this is about this pleasant little game that really went for it in the full version, and boi, did they go for it!

I'd classify this as one of those "slow burn" visual novels, simply because it's not obvious that our LI is a lil' psycho off the rip, and there's nothing too unsettling from the jump aside from getting caught in a blizzard. Actually, since we're on the topic, the LI -- his name is Crowe Lynn, by the way -- is actually pretty damn hospitable, and he's a full blown scientist. The most shocking part is, he isn't even doing anything sketchy! for the most part. He is deadass living in the middle of nowhere for research purposes and is writing books to know why nature is...well, naturing, for lack of better wording.

That being said, I think the intro is long enough, and I'm really excited to tell you more about this game, because you guys have got to play this whenever you get the chance! As always, I'm going to tell you as much as possible about the game without ruining the game itself.

So, boom. We're -- or Aspen, should you decide to play through their eyes, but I prefer self-insert -- going on a trip in our favorite run down car to get to some town where there is supposed to be this really nice place to let off some steam via skiing. Trust me, we did research on this; we know what we're talking about. Anyways, while driving, we start noticing how we've been on this same road for a long time, and yet, we haven't seen anybody for an equally long time.

Run down car? Long road? No one for miles? You already know what's about to happen.

Yep, you guessed it, we get a flat, and as you've also probably guessed, we have no spare tire, but bear with me! The game isn't this predictable, I swear! You've gotta understand that it can just be a little hard to get away from certain tropes, and let's be real, they kind've have to happen for plot purposes. I mean, think about if we actually had a tire in the trunk. We would've been outtie, we would've had a great trip, and there would've been no game lol. Sometimes, you just gotta cut the devs some slack.

Anywho, so yeah, flat tire and no spare. Naturally, we hike it to try to find some help, but the weather kind've picks up, and the clothes that we have, while appropriate for the cold, aren't adequate enough for a full blown blizzard. No worries though, because guess who comes to the rescue? This guy!

Everybody, this is Crowe. Crowe, this is everybody.

As you'd expect (I know I keep saying that, but lmao it's not a overly predictable game, I swear!), Crowe is this really chill dude. Actually, more than a chill dude, he's a massive nature nerd. That's actually why he's out in the middle of the woods anyways! Like I mentioned before, he's researching why nature be naturing, specifically -- at least, his current topic from the way it was worded is -- partial migration. If you've never heard of that, don't even worry about it, in the game he explains it to us. Like, I'm telling you. This man is super into this stuff, and we love a smart man.

Getting away from that though, he basically ends up telling us that the town that we're in is pretty much deserted with the exception of like 13 other people, and because of the blizzard, the time it'd take to clean the roads, the likelihood of there being another blizzard right behind the one that just happened, and cleaning up after that blizzard, getting to our planned destination just wasn't going to happen. ...Well, shit.

What are we going to do then? Our car has a flat, we can't travel, and there's not any resorts nearby. No worries though, because the bae came through! He said "Oh, you can just stay with me!" Oh wooooooord???

So guess what we do? Make ourselves cozy in this bomb ass cabin. I'm not even exaggerating about that. Like, this cabin is REALLY nice! Take a peek!

That's just our room and the hallway. You can only imagine how bomb the rest of the place looks. Like, I'm telling y'all, it's super cozy up in here. But we must stay focused! And by we, I mean me, because I could go on and on about how nice this cabin looks.

Back to the topic at hand though, we've agreed to stay with Crowe, even though, we honestly don't have much of a choice, but it was just dope that Crowe was cool with everything. That being said, during our stay, we do all kinds of pretty cool stuff! We go foraging with him for chaga mushrooms and winterberries, we create some powders to add to other stuff, and we make some medicines. Everything was going super smoothly ... until it wasn't.

Crowe kind've has...a weird temper. Like, we had accidentally gotten hurt, and he had gotten super pissed about it. We love a man that cares about his guest, but he was a bit overdramatic about it. You'd think we would've lost a limb or something. The main thing that got him really pissed, though, was when we had mentioned our car and implied leaving. He did not like that, and when I say we got into it bad? Oh, the insults were flying. Like, look at this!

So, yeah, we fought, and what about it? It's whatever. Forget him...

...Actually, we felt really bad about the whole thing, and so did he. We talked it out, and everything was all good again; however, now he's acting really weird, we're getting really suspicious, and we still have to get home. That being said, we call it an early night, borrow one of his books, and pretty much make a gameplan so we can figure out how to get home as well as what the hell is going on that is not only making Crowe act weird, but what is going on in general.

And we do! We sneak out the next morning and ... we actually make things worse because now, we're REALLY confused. I'm not going to get into the details, but just know that there are more questions than answers at this point. So, yeah, while the investigating helped, it only helped a little, and I genuinely mean only a little.

One thing that we know for sure though...

This man is definitely crazy in love with us.

And that's all I'm going to tell you! Lol I'm sorry! But if I tell you the rest, it'll literally be the ending, and it'll ruin it! You know how much I want you guys to play it, so no way am I going to spill the details, but like most visual novels, how it ends is completely up to the choices that you make.

Guys...the full game delivered.

I prefer choice heavy visual novels like Darling Duality and Forcefully Yours, but this still wasn't bad by any means. I actually thought it was quite good! Like I said, the most shocking thing to me about all of this is that this man is deadass a scientist! Like, he really isn't doing anything entirely sketchy out there! That was the biggest plot twist of the century to me! But, anyways, letting go of that. Let me tell you more of my thoughts on the game, and why I feel like you should play it whenever you get the chance.

The visuals are absolutely stunning, first and foremost. So far, my favorite VN visual wise has been Mushroom Oasis, but this is definitely a solid number 2 spot. I absolutely adore the art style. I also appreciate the revamp that they did with Crowe. There is nothing wrong with femboys by any means, but to me, Crowe was a little girly looking, and he very much so looked like a small child lol. Like look at the difference in this.

This is the old Crowe Lynn

And this is the new Crowe Lynn

Lol you see what I mean? He looked like a child that wanted to be a scientist when he grew up versus the actual adult him that chose science as a profession. The redesign was definitely a good choice, and I love how he looks now, especially with the longer hair and worn out lab coat. What do you think, though? Which did you prefer?

Aside from that though, you know what one of my favorite things about the game was? The fact that -- and listen close, because this is about to be a tip! -- the endings that you get are based more on how the character feels about Crowe versus how Crowe feels about us. How curious is that?

In a majority of visual novels, the endings are literally dependent on how far we push the LI or their affinity for us, but it's not like that in this one. We get a different ending based on if we trust him or not, if we flirt back with him or ignore his remarks, and some other factors that I don't want to include and possible spoil the story. I just thought that was a really interesting take, and that was super creative of the developer. It was definitely refreshing to play as more of myself and base the gameplay on my -- or rather my character's -- feelings versus playing for the LI and his feelings.

With all that in mind, I definitely say give this game a go! It has a nice mystery/suspense to it, and not to mention, there is a really bomb song during the credits. I was so sad to see that it was not on Spotify! Well, let me clarify, it IS, but it's not available to me which sucks ass. It's not even on YouTube, and it hurts me so bad! Ugh!

Anyways, in case my feelings and opinions weren't clear -- play this game, play this game, play this game, play this game! As always, be sure to leave your comments on the dev's page if you feel like they've done a good job, and you want to give them that extra reassurance to keep making games. Of course, donations are always helpful to them as well! Like mentioned at the very top, here is a link to the game so that you can play it for yourself, and I really want you to play it for yourself!

That's all from me! Drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

Where Winter Crows Go

[mylovelies-docx]

Social Cues

A/N: Wow. Okay. So it's been a couple of years since I've written anything and since I promised everyone that I was working on a Cassian fic.

Welp. Here's that fic now - only two years later than I was expecting.

My bad.

Take this 20k fic as an apology/your due/something that I wanted to give you years ago.

Plot: You and Cassian go undercover as a married couple, but things take a turn for the worst when your past finds you.

C/W: Angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, reader has an abusive mother (featured heavily), gendered reader (daughter), no use of Y/N, *SMUT* (18+, Minors DNI), Not beta'd, also not proofread (if I spent any more time on this, I would never get it out here). Probably more, let me know if I need to include something.

I started writing this before the show came out (which I have not watched... I know, I know.) Anyway, as is always the case with any Cassian fic that *I* prefer, there is no such thing as canon.

“Married,” you echo quietly in disbelief. You have never been more shocked in your life; and when you quickly glance over, Cassian apparently hasn’t been, either. His jaw is tense and his eyebrows have raised slightly.

General Draven had just dropped the specifics of your mission, and it was not one that you could have anticipated. You and Cassian were to pose as a married couple that had just moved into an affluent neighborhood full of Imperial officers, weapons dealers, and senators.

In other words, right into a Sarlacc pit. Only this situation was thrice as deadly.

“With all due respect, General, this isn’t something either of us have experience with. Would it not be better to send Rishi and O’tal?” Cassian suggests diplomatically. 

You nod your head at Cassian’s idea, showing your support. Rishi and O’tal are a real married couple in intelligence for the Alliance, so they are uniquely fit for this specific placement. 

“They’re currently on assignment right now. And besides: you two are the best intelligence officers we have. Mothma and I don’t want this handled by anyone else.” Draven’s compliment of your abilities would have been more than enough to placate you if you weren’t still reeling from the previous revelation.

“Yes General, I know what you’re saying and I thank you sincerely for the commendation, but I’m still unsure if this is a wise decision,” you rebut. You have never once doubted a mission assignment, and you know Cassian hasn’t either, but this was territory neither of you have ever found yourselves in. “This will be the first joint mission for either of us. Would it not be possible for a different relationship? Perhaps a hired guard would suffice for one of us?”

Sure, you’ve seduced and courted marks before, but bringing along a partner that you needed to present a sense of physical and emotional intimacy with? That is something entirely out of your realm of expertise.

Draven is stationed at the head of the table, using the projection screen in front of him to present information, schematics, and diagrams. From his vantage point, Draven watches a slight frown mar Cassian’s face at your suggestion, but it’s gone just as soon as it appears.

“I understand your hesitancy, Captains, but rest assured that we have exhausted all other avenues,” Draven consoles. “But you both will be in control of the gritty details, so you can make it work. We’re only providing the accommodations and whatever alibis you require.”

“Yes, sir.” You and Cassian acquiesce with no further argument. You look at Cassian out of the corner of your eye, hoping he can’t see the real reason for the hesitation.

This is going to be an adventure neither of you can prepare for.

***

“This is going to be a difficult enough mission, so I think sticking as close to the facts as possible is our best option,” you explain to Cassian, jotting down bullet points and ideas on your datapad to relay back to Mon Mothma and Draven so that they can fabricate your history once it’s been decided.

“I estimate a 33% chance of your entire plan falling apart, Captain (Y/L/N),” K2 chimes in.

“Agreed.” Cassian ignores K2’s comment and speaks directly to you. “We can use our first names for simplicity, but we need a surname,” Cassian recommends from the co-pilot's chair. 

“Would you like to know why?” K cuts in.

You appreciate the fact that you and Cassian are on the same wavelength about using your own names. You haven’t discussed it with him yet, so your similar logic on this bodes well for the rest of the discussion and the mission as a whole.

“Why don’t we just stick with Andor, for simplicity’s sake? It’s a common enough name and you’ll respond right away if someone calls for us. Plus, we both go by so many codenames that no one will ever think to search for us by this one.” 

You’re swiping away on your datapad to avoid either of them seeing your reddened cheeks, so you don’t see Cassian’s ears flush subtly at your suggestion as well. Your heart flutters madly, causing a pang in your chest to the beat of your ‘new’ name.

Cassian clears his throat and readjusts in his seat. “That could work,” he remarks coolly while rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

K2 turns his head quickly to observe Cassian, the metal joints whirring with the motion. The droid begins to speak and Cassian glares at him, but there is no reigning in K2.

“Because two can keep a secret only if one of them is dead,” K elaborates on his one-sided talkingpoint, still observing Cassian’s reaction to your recommendation on becoming Mrs.Captain Andor, however temporarily.

You hurry on to get your mind off the impossible fantasy the name has conjured up for you. “Great. I’m just trying to think of the likely scenarios that will be brought up at dinner parties or Imperial galas. Obviously how we met, connections to the Empire…”

K is just being a bugslut with his next comment.

“And I’d prefer if it was Cassian who remained living.”

The aforementioned man shoots K2 another glare, wordlessly saying “behave”. The droid shrugs his large mechanical shoulders and mimes a zipping motion with his fingers over his audio port.

You roll your eyes at K2’s insistence that your plan will be a failure and at his obvious distaste for you. You’re unsure what it is about you that he finds so distasteful, but you find yourself wishing he tolerated you a little more. Perhaps then, Cassian would join Rogue One more often on small adventures and get-togethers.

Being around Cassian is easier than being with anyone else; you don’t seem to exhaust yourself as quickly or as often with him. He is a source of calm, controlled energy that speaks to the weary parts of your soul.

Focus. 

“So. Instead of saying we met during a Rebel council meeting, how about we meet in the middle of truth and lie? Keep the time frame the same, just change the location. So for instance: we met five standard years ago at the launch of an Imperial class-II Star Destroyer. There were so many of those around that time that no one should question it – and even if they do, we could pretend we were too drunk on Merenzane Gold or love or whatever to notice anything but each other.” 

You are proud of yourself for keeping this discussion so professional despite your intrusive thoughts. Your heart is racing and your hands are slightly trembling with anxiety, but your voice is steady and you still sound confident. Maker! Why can’t you find the same focus and steadfastness that you have on missions? You can only hope that your professionalism will kick in once you land and begin the assignment in earnest.

“You were wearing a pink dress,” Cassian murmurs, staring distantly at the stars passing over the cockpit’s transparisteel. He mutters it to himself mostly, but you still hear.

You snap your head up, eyes large and mouth slightly parted, finding that he has his hand spread across the lower half of his face with his head turned away from you. You had been operating remotely for the Alliance for a while in various social circles and planets prior to settling down on base. You had just finished with a mission and were wearing a pink dress when you met Cassian for the first time during a debrief of your findings.

You shouldn’t be surprised that a man who had grown up as a spy can recall details as small as what you had been wearing, since you can also do the same. But you had been absolutely nothing to him then, so why would he bother to pay you any attention?

“And you had your A280-CFE heavy blaster strapped to your thigh,” you divulge. 

Your mind is still trying to wrap itself around the fact that Cassian had been watching you for far longer than you realized. He turns his head to look at you in surprise and catches your eye. Your puzzled expression is revealing too much of your thought process, so you drop your gaze from his and return to your holopad.

K2 breaks the tension with his usual tact.

“There’s a 93% chance you’re both lying to yourselves.”

“That’s enough, K,” Cassian reprimands, not for the first time.

“I’m only stating facts and highly calculated odds,” K defends himself.

“Facts as you see them,” you point out distractedly.

“Oh, I see a lot more than you do. A lot more.”

You’re still too self-involved to reply further and Cassian steers the conversation back to a safer topic: your mission. 

“Anyway.” He clears his throat. “Let’s say we were dating for...six months? Eight months? Enough time to get to know each other, but short enough to accommodate our ‘love at first sight’.” Cassian lets out one compact ‘ha!’ at the notion of falling in love with a total stranger without knowing who they were.

“Eight months seems reasonable. That would give me a few opportunities to let you meet family and friends, and vice versa. Speaking of: do we have any?” you question, back to yourself after banishing any and all thoughts of Cassian’s motivation to study you so intently. You can only hope to gather more data as the mission progresses.

“Hmm,” Cassian ponders, unsure what option would be best. He scrubs a hand across his stubbled chin and cheeks in thought. “No family seems suspicious, but we don’t want to create too many to keep track of.” He reasons out. “These people are well-connected and will be looking into our history, so we need to think of how our team back at base can create the strongest alibi.”

“True. And there’s no doubt they would recognize our infamous friends by name. That really narrows down our options.” Your lips are pursed to the side in thought and your chin is resting on your closed first. 

Your thinking pose works because you have an idea come to mind. Cassian stops his musings on ‘our friends’ to find your delighted expression when he turns at your little ‘a-ha!’ and finger snap.

“Do you remember anything about my mission on Aria Prime? My alias had a few family members we can repurpose.” You’re relieved that you’ve figured out a way to use established plants and make the intelligence officer’s work back at base easier.

“Antolin and Mauria, yes?” He confirms.

“Yes,” you verify, flustered yet again by Cassian’s attention to detail. “I’m glad you read my report – makes this easier for us.” 

“I read all your reports,” Cassian remarks before realizing his error. “I mean. I-I read all the reports. Everyone’s. It’s best to have a clear understanding of the bigger picture,” he corrects hastily.

You’re struggling to understand why, why, why, but your heart flutters nonetheless at the small thrill you receive. 

“Like I said,” K-2SO’s modulator is pitched to where only Cassian can hear, “lying to yourselves.”

***

This discussion had started a parsec ago, but is still going with no end in sight. Neither of you can agree on this, but neither are willing to yield.

“The more we use pet names, the less people will remember our real ones. First introductions we only give our names once and then use only nicknames after. People like them will be too embarrassed to have forgotten a name and won’t ask for them again.” 

Cassian is making excellent points, but your insides squidge in a nice uncomfortable way whenever he offers up an example. You can’t help but remember all the times your marks had forgotten your name, so they used demeaning pet names to refer to you. Maybe that’s why you were so easily onboard for using your names on this mission when you’ve never done it before. One: because it’s easier, and two: because you don’t feel as if you hear it spoken often enough.

Three: because you don’t want Cassian to forget your name when this war eventually claims your life.

You’re making yourself unduly anxious with the thought of that eventuality, and your response comes off melancholic. “They won’t remember me anyway.”

Cassian is thrown off by this. How could anyone forget you? He had a hard time not thinking about you some days. 

“Why do you say that?”

You give him a sad sort of expression, a wry smile turning your lips. “Isn’t that our job?” you question him. “Making yourself completely unrecognizable to the point that if your target ever saw you again, they wouldn’t even notice?”

Cassian can see where you’re coming from, but the look on your face and the tone of your voice makes him wonder at how lonely you feel during missions.

“As long as you are yourself around those you care about, it makes it worth it. Yes?” Cassian counters.

A small, wondering smile graces your lips as you lean back against the hold and look up. “Yeah, I guess so…”

You’re thinking of all the fun you have with Jyn and Bodhi when she drags you both away from base to explore, or when you’re all laughing at the exasperated look on Baze’s face when Chirrut walks into blaster fire with only his prayers to guide him. 

Or when you catch the relieved look Cassian throws you after a near-miss, like he’s impossibly glad that you’re okay. You always point finger-blasters at him with a smirk, trying to diffuse the situation, but he usually just shakes his head and tells you to focus.

Ahh. There you are, a voice in your mind whispers suddenly. It’s a cool and sinister voice, one you had not heard in some time.

You startle, knowing that the disembodied voice cannot see you physically does nothing to prevent a sense of overwhelming fear from taking over. You try to take a series of deep breaths to calm your racing heart and slow the pounding of blood in your ears. Hoping repetitive and familiar motions will calm you down and refocus your mind, you begin to rub up and down one arm with your knuckles. With the amount of pressure you’re using, you’ll end up with bruises but the dull pain helps.

Cassian sees you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns toward you, you’re already up and walking to a more private area.

“E-excuse me,” you stutter out. Your legs feel weak and you run one hand along the wall to keep you steady.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asks, preparing to stand up and follow you.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m fine. Just give me a moment.” Your voice is quiet, but you throw a shaky smile over your shoulder to try and stop Cassian from following you. You make it to one of the rooms and slide in, the door hissing closed behind you.

“That,” K2 says.

“What?” Cassian asks his companion, confused by the non sequitur.

“That is precisely why I don’t trust her. She hides too much,” the droid explains.

“She’s one of us, K,” Cassian defends. “We all have secrets.”

“Yes, but our secrets don’t make us run away. She’s hiding something big: I know it.” The droid asserts, giving his head one sharp nod to drive the point.

***

You survey the progress of your “home” being put together from the lofty heights of the balcony overlooking the foyer. Everything is white and gray and black, mimicking the Empire’s color scheme.

You hate it.

The only pop of color is your elaborate dress. The emerald gown is the height of Coruscant fashion, and you needed everyone who saw you and Cassian dock to know that you are important people.

Your quarters span the top two levels of one of the tallest towers in a swanky residential sector. The prestigious location alone should influence everyone’s opinions, but you also need to look the part of a spoiled and arrogant wife. So you have to dress and act accordingly.

You sense Cassian walking up behind you; his presence is unmistakable and you recognize his gait as his shoes tap against the expensive flooring. 

Your fingers grip the balustrade imperceptibly tighter, the only reaction you will allow yourself. Since shutting down on the U-wing to try and prevent the voice’s return, you’ve been able to keep your thoughts and emotions in check: no racing heart, blushed cheeks, or errant feelings. This is the only way you know how to keep your mind your own.

Cassian places his hands on either side of yours, trapping you between his warm body and the railings. His chest is pressing into your back and his sharp chin is resting on your shoulders. You weren’t prepared for this level of fake intimacy so soon, so your breath hitches in your throat and escapes as a soft gasp. You feel his warm breath fan across your ear as he pretends to nuzzle into your neck.

“Kay and I placed the data collectors throughout the public rooms.” Cassian mumbles, moving from one side of your neck to the other. You tilt your head in the semblance of allowing him room to kiss along your skin, growing hot where his breath fans now and goosebumps where it had once been. “We’re ready for the company to arrive.”

“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. You’re developing a pit in your stomach at the proximity, but you grasp Cassian’s hands under yours for the illusion. Your palms are sweating and you’re sure that Cassian can feel it, but he continues resting his lips near your ear.

You glance down at the individuals moving your furnishings throughout the rooms, catching one gray-skinned and multi-eyed lifeform watching the two of you surreptitiously. You scowl down at them, feeling Cassian’s head turn enough to give them a side-eye as well. They turn back to arranging the many fire-waters and spirits you bought in preparation for your first gathering as new residents.

Some aliens begin making their way from where they were setting up the sleeping quarters behind you and Cassian. As they’re passing, Cassian pulls away from you. You take a deep breath to recenter yourself and cool your skin.

“Come, Love. Let’s break in the new bed,” Cassian says, loud enough for the passing workers to overhear.

You feign a saccharine smile and allow him to place his hand on the small of your back. Cassian leads you to your shared bedroom, dropping contact as soon as the door closes behind the two of you. You both sweep the room for any foreign devices and find none. You remain standing on opposite sides of the room, aware of the awkward atmosphere.

“I am sorry for that. A few of the workers were watching us,” Cassian apologized. One hand is scratching the scruff along his chin to hide his discomfort.

“I saw. It was an effective way to give them observations to take back to their superiors if some are spies like we suspect.” You carefully place yourself on the edge of the luxurious bed, taking this time to rest your feet before you need to get ready for the evening’s plans.

“Yeah…” Cassian draws, giving you a quizzical look. 

He knows that you’re on a mission now, but your tone and mannerisms are throwing him off. He always felt at least a sense of comradery with you, but this pliant and civil manner you’ve taken up bothers him for reasons he won’t can’t name.

You ignore his probing eyes. The voice in your mind is too recent an experience to let yourself relax even slightly. Your muscles are rigid from the straight posture of the elite woman you’re playing and from the stress of keeping your mind calm and under control. A headache is starting to form.

“I take it that K is situated?” You inquire of Cassian as you stand with bare feet. You pad over to the extensive closet space, selecting an outfit for tonight.

“Yes. He’s taken the ship to the lower levels and will stay there while we’re here; he’s close enough if we run into any issues.” 

Cassian’s voice is still low as he follows you to the wardrobe, just in case any of the movers are lurking outside the door. You both stand back to back as you each survey your arsenal of clothing for this mission. You run your hands lovingly over the soft fabrics, happy that your sensitive skin won’t have to endure anything rough for this mission. Cassian’s clothed shoulder blades scrape along your exposed back, sending imperceptible shivers down your spine. 

You quickly pull out a beautiful dress and move away from Cassian. You call over your shoulder to him as you near the refresher. “I’m wearing pink, unless you don’t have anything to match.”

“Of course I do. You selected the wardrobe,” he reminds you. 

You hadn’t seemed yourself since the ship, which Cassian picked up on immediately since you were so sure and confident at the beginning. He is trying hard to understand your abrupt change.

You shut the door on Cassian and take in the immaculate space around you. You hang the dress so it can air out while you apply your makeup and arrange your hair and try to enjoy the solitude while you can, knowing that tonight and all the nights to come will wear you thin. 

***

Cassian comes in a while later, taking note of your elaborate hairstyle and details of your thoad-eye makeup. He feels the nearly overwhelming need to comment how stunning you are and how similar you look now to when he saw you that first time, but holds his tongue. He doesn’t want to make this any more awkward for either of you.

You had been staring listlessly into the mirror before you until Cassian walked in. You can barely recognize the person staring back; hollow eyes, down-turned lips, dull skin. She isn’t you, but she is who you need to be until you’re sure the phantom hasn’t found you.

You move your eyes to study Cassian as he stands in the doorway. He looks handsome in his party-ware, the organic tones complementing his features and your pastel gown nicely. But you don’t dwell on how the sight alone of Cassian in something other than his everyday wear threatens the stability of the winged creatures in your stomach. You want them to be dormant, need them to be, but something about the man behind you sets them to tittering.

Since closing yourself off from your emotions and the galaxy at large, you have come to realize that you haven't been as careful as you should have. Despite your better judgment and without conscious effort, you have formed attachments in the Rebellion. Found yourself building relationships that mean something to you. Your fellow rebels from Rogue One are your life-line in this never-ending war.

Your bond with Cassian is one you are especially fond of.

You have grown to care for the man in a way that you know you shouldn’t. Your detachment now allows for you to reflect on your feelings in an objective way, understanding that you put yourself and the entire Rebellion at risk without fully realizing.

It stops today.

You harden what little bit of your heart you can still feel and fill in the small, Cassian shaped hole that had started to carve itself there.

You take your eyes from where they had locked onto his own. You can sense his hesitation to approach you and his inner turmoil that feels so like your own had earlier in the day. So while dabbing under your eyes for fallout and around your lips to neaten the line, you speak up.

“I’ll be done in time to greet our guests with you, but I need a few moments.”

Your voice is flat and devoid of any warmth that it once held for the man. Cassian notes immediately that your countenance has taken another turn, one that has pulled you even further away from him. His chest tightens. He sets his mouth in grim acceptance and leaves with a small nod in your direction.

***

All throughout the evening, a sense of foreboding had settled itself deep in your bones. You can feel it getting heavier and heavier as the party drags on, weighing down your body and worsening your already sickening headache. You continue to laugh and smile demurely despite it, but the bright light from the chandelier hanging above your head is sending bolts of pain behind your eyes.

In order to present a united front to these Imperial officers and sympathizers, Cassian has his arm wrapped around your waist and you’re resting your hand over top of his on your hip. The warmth of his hand as it caresses your curves sends heat between your thighs completely against your will. Your mind and heart know what you can’t have, but your body has wants of its own.

When an interesting piece of information comes up in conversations, one of you will squeeze the other’s hand in silent communication to pry further. It arose through no effort on either of your parts, but Cassian feels the rightness in the subtle exchanges. It feels like you’ve been partners for longer than a day, fake married for longer than a day, fake intimate for longer than a day with the way it feels to hold you. 

He can’t get over the rightness of having you in his arms. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt, even with the few past partners he’s allowed himself to have between missions. He can feel the heat of your skin beneath his palm and through the fabric of your dress, making him want to pull you all the more closer as the night wears on and the open windows bring a chill to the crowded room.

You’re both in the middle of a conversation with a commanding officer when it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room, like a cabin losing pressure out in space. Your eyes widen and your heart races as your sense of foreboding from earlier ramps up into full fight-or-flight mode. You’re hastily scanning the faces in the room, terrified.

Cassian feels you tense in his arms. With a quick glance at your face, he knows something is wrong. Your eyes are flickering around the room and the pulse in your neck is prominent against the stiffness of your body. He tries to catch your eye or squeeze your hip, but he gets no response.

Quickly and subtly shifting your body behind his, he excuses the two of you from your conversation. You don’t feel yourself moving, too caught up in trying to find the source of this feeling. 

You’re intimately familiar with this presence, having spent years in its company. You had tried so hard and traveled lightyears away in order to escape, but all your efforts seem futile now. You should have gone into hiding, should have locked yourself away on a little no-name moon, should have done something more. 

A whimper escapes your mouth without permission, and Cassian’s heart lurches at the frightened sound. He’s always known you to be the bravest, strongest person he has ever met, but the woman in his arms right now looks like a scared child, looks like someone he doesn’t know. He would take your cold and detached manner from the previous day over this. 

Because this? This scares him. And Cassian does not scare easily.

He leads you into a secluded area of the penthouse, away from prying Imperial eyes and whatever has caused your body to convulse with tremors. He still has his arm wrapped securely around your waist holding you close to him, and his other hand has a gentle but firm grip around your upper arm that is pressed tightly into his side. Cassian is practically dragging you away as your knees refuse to hold you up.

Cassian finds a small cupboard furthest away from the party. He looks around to be sure no one is near enough to listen in, and pulls you inside. A dim light turns on above your heads and Cassian places you gently against a wall. You start to slide down, but he puts his arms under yours, giving you support.

You can still feel her, can sense her proximity and her sinister presence in the back of your mind. It’s been so long since you were last with her, but your body must have known somehow that she was drawing nearer. Your headaches and anxiety that had only heightened throughout the party should have made you think.

But you didn’t.

Having Cassian at your side had made you feel safe, no matter that you were actively avoiding having any feelings for him. You have known his character well from watching and interacting with him over the years, learning to trust him and his calm and reserved nature. You were remiss in thinking that you could keep yourself and your feelings away from him during this mission. 

Now that the walls you carefully constructed on the ship have crumbled around you, you can’t help but feel again. Can’t help but feel the warmth radiating from his chest and into yours from where he’s standing so close to you. Can’t help but feel his breath against your face as he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong. Can’t help but feel the pressure in your head slowly dissipating as you force yourself to breathe in time with Cassian’s instructions.

You readjust against the wall after a short while, standing taller and trying to regain feeling in your legs. Cassian’s hand shifts from the wall and cups the side of your face so that he can look into your eyes. You can see the question in his concerned gaze and answer in a still-weak voice.

“My… my mother. She’s here.”

Cassian’s brow furrows slightly as he wonders what that could mean for you and this mission. He opens his mouth to ask for more details, but you shake your head.

“She’s - we’re - I don’t know!” You cry out softly. You bring your hands up and grasp the lapels of Cassian’s shimmersilk jacket as you try to ground yourself and explain. “She’s in my head, Cassian. I can feel her. I can hear her. I couldn’t get away, and now she’s found me.” 

You suck in a deep breath through trembling lips. You look deeply into Cassian’s eyes, watching as a dawning understanding fills them. 

“I’m scared, Cassian,” you admit.

Cassian wraps both of his hands around your head with his palms against your neck, using his thumbs to sweep softly under your eyes, catching the tears that had fallen without you noticing. Your breathing is still stuttering in and out of your lungs, and Cassian can feel your pulse as he continues to stroke your cheeks.

“I know. I know, Princessa. But it’s okay, we can figure this out together, hm?” Cassian murmurs to you. 

You nod your head and close your eyes as you lean back against the wall, drained of energy. Cassian takes both of your wrists into one of his and holds them against his chest when he feels your grip slacken, hoping that you can feel his heart’s rhythm and use its steady beat to come back down from your adrenaline rush.

“What do we need to do?” Cassian asks after a moment. “I can signal K and we can leave right now.”

You shake your head as you look back at him. You can’t let this opportunity for information slip away because of you. And you’re definitely not giving K-2SO any more reason not to like you.

“No. No, Cass, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just… give me another moment or two. Please,” you implore. 

Rational thought is coming back to you as you finally match Cassian’s heartbeat and breathing. You start to feel embarrassed about your breakdown, but Cassian’s sympathy and understanding prevent you from doing so. You’re now focusing on the shift in your mission.

“The good news is I’m using my real name, so she can’t ruin us immediately,” you begin slowly. “The bad news is now we have to contend with her story and timeline of events. I haven’t been with her since I ran away, Cassian. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but she’s been in my head a few times since then.”

What you have to tell Cassian next is hard, but he needs to know. For your own selfish needs, you want somebody to know what you’ve been through. 

“She… she studied under the Sith in her childhood, but never completed training. When she had me and realized I was force sensitive…” You’re pleading with your eyes and your grasping hands on his jacket once more. “She raised me on the Dark Side. To become the Sith she never could be.”

Cassian tries to pull away from you, shocked and angry by your perceived betrayal. His face hardens and his hands drop away from you, but you’re quick to hold tighter to him, keeping him from leaving you.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Cassian! I never joined the Rebellion for her or anyone else. I stopped training and cut myself off from the Force after my 16th year because I knew what she was teaching me was wrong. I joined you because I wanted to make up for all the awful things she made me do, to give myself over to a cause that I believe in.

“I never intentionally put the Rebellion in danger. Every time she found my consciousness, I shut myself away from whatever I was feeling that let her in and left the base until I was sure she hadn’t found me,” you explain. “I don’t know why she’s here now, but it can’t be good. We have to find out, and I’m the best shot we have.”

You can see Cassian’s mind moving at lightspeed to determine if he can trust you. You’ve never given him any reason not to, but this secret is explosive enough to shake his faith in his own discernment. His eyes are shifting between yours, staring into each to find any trace of duplicity. You keep your expression honest and open. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented your emotions – true and real emotions – to someone. You’re vulnerable in this state, but Cassian needs to see it.

And he does. Cassian’s shoulders drop imperceptibly and the tension you can feel under your hands loosens.

“Does Mon Mothma know? She’s the one that recruited you, yes?” He asks, looking for a solid reason other than his gut instincts to guide his decision.

You nod. You hadn’t told her the full truth all those standard years ago, but she knew enough to think of you as a worthwhile risk.

Cassian exhales and reaches for your hands where they clutch at him. He gives them a squeeze in acceptance and you can’t stop a small smile from coming to your lips in relief.

“What’s your plan?” He asks you, deferring over to you on how this mission should move forward now that there’s a massive obstacle to manage.

“I think…”you hesitate, already dreading the series of events your next words are going to set in motion. “I think I need to get close to her again. Not ‘close’!” You reassure Cassian when a troubled look comes over his face. “Just make her think I’m still on the Dark Side. Being here already lends itself to that.”

“I don’t know. Putting yourself directly in her path like that is dangerous,” Cassian reasons.

You give a short laugh and look at Cassian with amusement. “We’re Rebel Intelligence currently undercover with elite Imperial officers and weapons dealers. I think we’ve been in danger.” 

Cassian mimics your small grin and rattles your hands around a bit. “Smart aleck.”

You’re feeling better than you have been since the U-wing. A weight has lifted from your shoulders and now you can breathe easier, safe in the knowledge that someone knows your secrets. Knows a large part of you, and doesn’t hate you for it.

Cassian’s smile fades. He doesn’t want to interrupt whatever this moment is, but you need to go back to the party. 

“I’m going to signal K-2SO; we might need him for security.” At the thought of K running his mouth off near all these officers, Cassian decides that he’ll instruct the droid to disable his modulator. “Are you ready?” he asks.

Your face drops into a determined expression. You gather all your strength and prepare to greet your mother. You’re going to need it.

***

“Well there’s my darling daughter!”

You keep your expression neutral, but quirk one eyebrow up as you look to the direction her voice is coming from. You watch as your mother saunters over to you, pulling along a middle-aged man in an Officer’s uniform; he must have been her way in, since you hadn’t seen her during your reconnaissance phase. He was of low-rank and low-importance, but you invited him because he could still harbor important information.

Your mother has aged: wrinkles line her eyes and crease her forehead, gray hairs are dyed an unnatural shade, and the skin on her neck and hands is thin and dry. Her dark robes swathe her frame in an abundance of fine fabric, perhaps to distract from all that you are observing.

“Mother,” you reply in a clipped tone. No one but Cassian notices the beginnings of sweat on your forehead. He leans in to place a kiss on your hairline, wiping away the droplet with his dry but soft lips. You grasp his hand tighter in appreciation.

“I knew I would find you here…” she taunts, but trails off as she eyes Cassian beside you. 

You stiffen because you know that look. You angle yourself to where your breasts are pressing against Cassian and you lay a possessive hand over his chest, clearly indicating he was ‘yours’ in the only way she really understands. 

But she hasn’t changed in all this time, so she tries her hand with Cassian. Even though her escort has an arm around her stomach in a not-so-subtle effort to keep her close to him and away from your partner - or anyone else in the room that catches her eye.

“My, my. Who is this handsome man you’ve conned into spending the night with you, daughter?” She addresses you, but bats her eyelashes coquettishly at Cassian. “I’m sure you’ll have much more fun with me, young man. I can give you anything you want,” she tries to whisper seductively, but fails in your opinion. 

Her date looks at you and Cassian contemptuously, as if you were the ones to blame for her behavior.

Your mouth curls into an uncontrollable sneer and your expression morphs into one of disgust and anger. How dare she proposition Cassian in such a way? What a lewd and demeaning way to come onto someone! 

All fear is forgotten in your outrage. You’re about to respond with vicious words as you start to move your hand towards the poisoned blade hidden under your dress, but Cassian stops you as he tightens his arm around your waist and pulls you further into him so that you’re basically looking over your shoulder - you’re full front is pressed against his as he takes his own hold on you. His hand snakes down to cup your ass in a proprietorial way to show your mother that he already has his hands full. 

Your heart quickens at the possessive act. Focus.

Cassian gives an uninterested nod as his greeting, making a show of looking her over and finding her lacking. It’s cruel, but it fills you with a spot of joy.

“The husband, actually,” he remarks coldly. “Weapons Specialist.”

“Oh.” She pouts for just a moment, disappointed that he wants nothing to do with her. “Well!” She claps her hands together and steps out of her date’s arm. “I’m sure you gentlemen won’t begrudge me a moment with my long-lost daughter,” she bids. She flaps her hands around as she says, “You boys talk amongst yourselves.”

She walks off, expecting you to follow like a kriffing Kath Hound. One of your eyes twitches in agitation as you look to Cassian. He uses one hand to adjust a piece of your hair, wanting to draw attention away from his lips as he mutters to you.

“Do not let her get to you. I will be right here when you return.”

“I don’t think I can follow through on the plan. I don’t think I can get close enough without failing,” you whisper. 

You are terrified of this woman and what she can still do to you, what she can still make you endure because of her connection to the Dark Side. But… you can’t really sense anything from her. You allow what diminutive control you have on the Force to surround her and probe for information, and you find very little. 

You’re wondering now if whatever prevented her from completing her training as a Sith has been depleting her midichlorians since then as well. Her voice in your mind has been diminishing for quite some time now; the event today having been the first time in over a year, when you used to hear her every other month.

A hypothesis begins to form. But in order to explore further, you need to follow your mother.

You rub Cassian’s cheek with the palm of your hand in farewell and his stubble is rough against your skin. He takes your hand from his face and places a soft kiss on your knuckles, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

 After your revelations in the cupboard and dispensation of some of the fear you had been holding all your life, you’re finding it easy to fall into this level of intimacy with Cassian -- false as it may be. You are no longer held back by thoughts of your mother reentering your life and wreaking havoc for the Rebellion. She’s found you here with Imperialists, ‘married’ to a war profiteer, and presumably on the same side.

But Cassian is still Cassian and you are still you. Public displays of affection make both of you uncomfortable, but you’ve been pushing it aside for the sake of the mission. You let go of each other and walk away from him, but you can still feel his eyes on you as you go to your mother.

“I never imagined you as a credit-seeking harpy, daughter of mine. Always so toffee-nosed and self-important. You never agreed to a single match I tried to make for you,” your mother starts in as soon as you’re close enough to hear. Some party-goers glance in your direction, but your glare sends them looking away.

“Perhaps you never set your sights high enough, mother. Maybe I sought better for myself than you could provide?” you retort, channeling Cassian’s cool demeanor into your character for this mission. 

You had never imagined as a youngling that you could ever be brave enough to face your mother in this way; she had dominated and dictated every facet of your life, refusing you free-will and a normal childhood. But you need to complete this mission and find out why she’s here, so you don’t have time to dwell.

She looks at you now with thinly veiled contempt. You imagine she thought you would still be that girl who was too afraid to speak out against her. And if it wasn’t for this mission and Cassian dragging you from the party so you could collect yourself, you would still be.

Your hands are trembling where they’re hidden behind your back and beneath the capelet on the dress, and gravity seems to have broken: incredibly strong at your feet and incredibly light on your head. It keeps you rooted to the floor while also making you feel like you’re floating away. Rationally you know it’s your fear response, so you work on taking inconspicuous breaths.

“‘Sought better for yourself’; don’t make me laugh! Those ‘friends’ you had were barely sentient! Let alone have any connections to elevate you anywhere,” your mother mocks.

You’re momentarily dumbfounded: how did she know about your friends? You made sure to never mention them or hang out with them when your mother was on-planet. “What friends?” you ask quietly.

“Don’t play ignorant with me, daughter, it’s so unbecoming of a Sith. Did you forget? I’m in your head.”

You jerk away from where your mother has leaned in towards your face, taking a step back. Her last words had been inside your head. 

“I’ve missed this, daughter,” your mother coos telepathically. She brings a wrinkled hand up to cup one side of your face while you’re struggling to breathe. “I’ve missed having you under my thumb.” 

At this, she drives her thumb into your cheek, pushing your head roughly to the side. She has a firm grip and directs your face back to where you have to look at her. You’re breathing fast and shallow, panic taking over. Your hands have flown to take a hold of her wrist and forearm, struggling to remove her nails from your soft flesh.

You finally wrench her hand away, just in time to feel a strong arm snake around your waist and pull you backwards. Cassian steps in front of you in a protective stance, one arm still holding you against his back and the other pointing his blaster in your mother’s face.

If looks alone could kill, your mother would have evaporated under Cassian’s glare.

You can feel his breath escaping him in angry heaves, nostrils flared. His mouth is set in a thin, angry line, and you can hear his teeth gnash together as he clenches his jaw. His eyebrows are furrowed over his hard, piercing stare, your mother the sole object of his ire at the moment.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even look at Cassian as her focus is still on you. Staring down certain death and one of the most intimidating men in the galaxy, she doesn’t move a muscle except to smile cruelly.

“They were so heartbroken when I told them you were dead,” she mocks as you stare at her from around Cassian. “It was quite fun to watch them suffer.”

They thought I was dead? Your hands grasp Cassian tighter at the thought. Is that why they never tried to contact me? 

Feeling your shaking hands on his back and unsteady breaths against his neck, all Cassian wants to do is blast a hole through your mother. As soon as he saw her lay a hand on you, he was racing over to the altercation – blaster drawn and heart on his sleeve. He knows how strong and capable you are, but this mission is asking more of you than he can stand to watch be taken away. 

He feels your warm hand slide around his where it grips his blaster. You bring his arm back down to his side and step out from behind him.

Your nerves are shot and you’re so nauseous that you could vomit at any moment, but you need to take control of the situation again. Your mother is making you look weak and incompetant in front of the Empire’s largest figures. The party had come to a screeching halt when Cassian drew his weapon.

“It’s alright, my love,” you say loud enough for those around you to hear. “I believe our guest has forgotten who is in charge here.” 

You snap your fingers in K’s direction where you see him stationed against one of the columns beside the entrance. You’re elated when you see him actually heed your command and stalk over. He grips your mother’s arm and waits for your command.

“I do believe it’s time you and your date left now,” you say as you wave your hand in a dismissive gesture.

Your mother is absolutely fuming as K2 leads her out of the hall, stopping to grab her date as he tries to make himself small amongst the crowd. You can see her trying to move her arm out of the droid’s grasp, but she’s unsuccessful. Her date’s jacket sleeve is nearly ripping at the shoulder from how unwilling he is to be pulled along by her.

Cassian is immensely proud of you for standing up to your mother. After he watches her being dragged out by K, he turns to you with a glimmer in his eye, only to notice the sallowness of your skin and the movement of your throat as you swallow multiple times.

Cassian immediately turns to your guests and makes an announcement so you can sneak away unnoticed. “Now that we’ve weeded out the undesirables amongst us, it’s time to get this party started. Fosu–” Cassian calls to the Ortolan leading the live band “–let’s go!” 

You make your way out of the crowded hall with one hand fisted over your mouth and the other holding your stomach. You hear the band start up as you reach the nearest refresher and bolt inside. As soon as the door slides closed and you’re alone, you promptly empty the contents of your stomach into the vacc tube.

-------

You’re shivering against the wall when Cassian comes in some time later. Your body has lost all ability to function after trying to purge itself of these mephitic feelings, so you’re collapsed into a seated position on the floor with your head leaned back to rest against the wall. The expensive stone interior of this refresher is beautiful to look at, but severely uncomfortable to sit on. 

Cassian crouches down next to you and hands you a crystal flute full of water. You give a small smile in appreciation and sip from the cup, closing your eyes as you feel the cool liquid slither down your raw throat and into your empty stomach.

“You did good,” Cassian says to you.

You peep open one tired eye and look at him. His face is sincere and his eyes hold no hint of the disappointment you feel for yourself. You scoff at his words and close your eye again.

“The entire mission has gone completely barvy because of me,” you mutter harshly. If your mother hadn't shown up, you would have completed this mission without any problems. But as soon as you felt her presence and realized that she was in the same room, you broke down. And when she spoke to you and grabbed you...

At the thought of your mother’s touch, the anxiety in your stomach rumbles into nausea again. You press a closed fist up to your mouth to fight off the feeling. “I can’t even think about her without wanting to spew my guts up.” You roll your head to the side so that Cassian can’t see the self-deprecating expression you know is on your face. “How pathetic is that?”

A warm, rough hand encircles the wrist that still hovers in front of your mouth. The firm pressure brings your face up and forces your eyes open. Cassian is leaning towards you with an arm outstretched to you and balancing on one knee. You can’t help but feel bad that he’s ruining such a nice suit just to get you to look at him.

“Nothing about you is pathetic, Princessa,” he urges. “The way you handled that situation? There is no one else in the galaxy who could have gotten through the way you did.” He moves his hands in an exaggerated gesture to emphasize the shape of the galaxy around you, but your wrist is pulled along for the demonstration since it is still held between his fingers. 

“I didn’t really do anything. I asked K to kick her out for me. I’ve probably lost any ounce of power and respect we scrounged up in such a short time.” 

Your eyes are downcast as you say this, so you don’t notice Cassian’s other hand reaching up from where it was hovering over his bent knee. He oh-so-gently grabs your chin in the same place your mother had, but the difference between the two touches are immense. His thumb ever so softly brushes along the side of your mouth where a bruise is most likely forming, and his fingers perch below your chin as he pulls your face up to meet his gaze.

“If anything, you gave us more respect. You effortlessly took away all her power and turned her into the laughing stock of the party; these sorts of things are the highlight of any event for these people. You’ve just ensured that they’re all going to be coming back just on the off-chance that something like that happens again.” 

His eyes are so intense on yours and his hand so kind against your abused jaw that it brings a flush to your face. You shouldn’t be relishing in the closeness you’re feeling in this moment because he is only trying to comfort you and get you ready to be hostess of the party again, but you can’t help the warm feelings and fluttering of your heart at his proximity.

You think he must have noticed your blush and became embarrassed for you, because he drops his hand from your face and rises from his crouch. Cassian clears his throat and pulls your wrist up towards him, indicating that it is time for you to stand as well. You push against the wall with your free hand and stand in front of him.

You’re unsure of what else to say besides a whispered, “Thank you.”

Cassian nods his head in acknowledgement and drops your hand. The loss of contact stings a little.

Cassian quickly starts ruffling his hair and jerking his clothes until they’re disheveled. Your questioning look is answered a second later as the same realization comes to your mind. A married couple locked in a bathroom together for some time after an apparent power move? Everyone at the party is going to think that show of dominance got Cassian hot with desire for you.

Your blush reappears with a vengeance as your hands remove some pins from your hair and ruffle through it. Your heart thunders in your chest as you grab Cassian’s shoulder as he is preparing to unlock the door. He looks back at you and you drop your hand.

“It.. it would be more believable if some of my makeup…” you flap your hand towards his face, indicating what you mean.

Understanding crosses his face as he slowly leans towards you. You take your thumb and smear it across your lips, dragging the lip color from its place and around your mouth in a facsimile of the chaos a kiss would create.

You take your makeup covered thumb and firmly glide it across Cassian’s lips. The contrast between the softness of his delicate skin and harshness of his stubbled chin remind you that your face and neck need to be more red.

Making to take your nails and redden up your skin, you’re stopped by Cassian’s question of, “Can I?”

You look up to see his hands reaching for your face and you allow him to hold you. He brings his face into yours and presses his stubbly cheek into your skin. You hold back your gasp of shock, but the inhaled breath allows in the intoxicating smell of him. You close your eyes in order to maintain some semblance of control over yourself. Your hands are itching to run through his hair and dishevel it even more, but you refrain in case it makes him stop.

Cassian is nuzzling into your neck now and you can feel a slightly shaky breath leave his lips and fan across your ear. A shiver races down your spine and lands hotly in your lower abdomen. The sensitive skin of your neck is red now from both his ministrations and your increased temperature.

All too soon, Cassian pulls away. You're warm all over except for the irritated skin on your neck that feels cool without Cassian’s warmth against it. He looks at you unsurely, probably worried that he overstepped a boundary.

“Your hands wouldn’t have left the right pattern,” he mumbles out. 

He doesn’t seem unsure of himself, but not wholly convinced that you necessarily wanted him to do that. You nod your head too quickly when you agree with him to reassure that you do not mind. At all. 

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, but swings out one elbow as an offer to you. You take a deep breath to calm down and place your arm within his before exiting.

***

Weeks pass and you and Cassian have been inundated with dinner offers, gala invitations, and special meetings from members of the Empire and their allies. It seems that Cassian was correct in saying that everyone at the party - and not at the party - would be clamoring to get into your good graces after taking so much power away from a prominent member so easily. 

When the topic is brought up, you always smile and laugh haughtily so they think such a thing was no big deal to you. The problem is that it was a big deal. You never stood up to your mother like that when you were younger - you always took the abuse until the day you jumped on a random cargo ship and ran away. You had always thought you were weak and powerless against your mother, but Cassian and these Imperial scum are beginning to make you realize that you’ve grown enough that she no longer holds power over you.

This realization makes you feel strong and more competent than ever. You’re fully ingratiating yourself with the beings around you, pretending that the Empire is the only way forward and that the Rebellion is just full of useless chizks. 

Ha! If only they knew they were being played like an Ewok drum by one of those ‘useless chizks’.

As you’re laughing at what some high-brow weapons dealer is saying, you glance around the room to find Cassian. You were separated when someone dragged you away to have a ‘female talk’ that was excruciating to sit through. You spy him across the hall, but your heart drops as you watch him follow a beautiful Twi-lek into a side office.

Over the past few weeks, you and Cassian have gotten close. Or you thought you had. You were both becoming increasingly comfortable in each other’s arms and Cassian had even taken to kissing your lips when others were around.

You couldn’t help but take those little kisses and tight hugs personally. You know that, rationally, he is only doing those things to keep up the pretense of a happily married couple, but your touch-starved heart was going soft for the Rebel captain.

And maybe it’s that soft heart that makes you excuse yourself from the current conversation. That soft heart that makes you follow in the pair’s footsteps. That soft heart that constricts and feels as if it’s crumbling away when you hear the soft murmurs coming from behind the closed door you have your ear against.

You’re unable to make out anything being said, but the closeness that whispering requires crushes your soft heart. You know this is a mission and you both need to get intel at any cost. Cassian is one of the best spies in the Rebellion – kriff, the whole galaxy – so it shouldn’t come as any surprise that seducing a target is one of his methods. 

But we’re supposed to be married, you reason out. Happily!

You hear the Twi-lek whine. Your chest tightens and your eyes start to burn for no reason. You shake your head to try and force the tears back. Taking a deep breath, you channel your current persona and feel her wrath and anger at the situation funnel through you.

You twist the handle and barge into the room. You stand scowling at the two as you eye them up and down. Cassian is unruffled and holding onto the Twi-lek’s shoulders as if to keep her at a distance. The Twi-lek, on the other hand, has her dress pulled down past her shoulders to expose her chest and her hands clasped onto Cassian’s lapels and fingering the buttons of his shirt.

Their eyes turn to you: Cassian’s relieved ,and the Twi-lek’s shooting daggers.

“Husband,” you deadpan, “what’s the meaning of this?” 

But you’re not looking at your fake husband, you’re eyeing up the female who still has her dress around her waist and her dirty hands on your man.

“Princessa,” Cassian seems to plead with you. You flick your eyes away from the Twi-lek and onto him. Princessa has become a normal term of endearment from Cassian since your heart-to-heart in the fresher, and you can’t get enough of how ardently he always calls to you. But now the name sends a pain through your heart, because you’re just now realizing he may have used it for others during missions as well.

Your eyes threaten to start burning again, so you look away from Cassian and back to the one that pulled him in here. You notice that she was hanging out with the one that pulled you away for that ‘talk’, making you think that this had been their play all along.

Your nostrils flare as you stare her down. “Fix your gown, find your friend, and leave this house. I will not repeat myself,” you growl at her. 

The Twi-lek’s eyes widen a fraction at the venom in your voice, hopefully understanding the danger that your persona emanates. She pulls her hands from Cassian and slips them through the sleeves of her dress before scurrying from the room.

You turn to watch her leave, narrowing your eyes as you catch hers as she shuts the door. You hadn’t only turned to make sure she left, you also turned so that you didn’t have to look at Cassian. You didn’t want to look closer and see what they were up to.

“Thank you,” Cassian murmurs as he walks up to you. “She seemed to think that I would sneak off with her willingly.”

“Didn’t you, though?” 

Your question catches him off-guard and you see his furrowed brow in your peripheral. You tried not to put any emotion into your words, but don’t know if you succeeded or not.

“What do you mean?”

“You were gathering intel, right? It’s part of the job to seduce targets.” You’re still looking to the door and away from him, but Cassian turns his body fully towards you and raises a hand in your direction. You lightly step away as you finish. “I just didn’t know our cover had changed, is all. I won’t interrupt you next time.”

Cassian calls out for you, but you’ve already left the room.

***

No one notices anything out of the ordinary after you re-enter the party, but you can feel eyes on you the whole night. Whether they’re Cassian’s or others’ is hard to say – once you returned to mingling with the guests, you started wrapping them around your little finger.

You aren’t discriminating against anyone that seemed interested in you. Any being that you felt had even an inkling of knowledge about something and would only give it up if persuaded, you flirted with. Subtly, of course, since you are ‘married’, but enough to let them know you find them just as interesting as they find you.

You’re only laying the groundwork tonight, so you don’t have to worry about planning any rendezvouses. You wish that Cassian had discussed seduction with you while you were both laying out plans on the way to Coruscant. 

No. 

You wish that seduction wasn’t part of the plans at all. Because as selfish as it is, you want Cassian all to yourself – if only for this mission. 

Stop lying.

As selfish as it is, you want Cassian. Period.

***

You don’t enjoy yourself tonight. Not like any of the other events had been times to enjoy, but at least for those few weeks Cassian had been at your side for most of them. Even so, you can’t pinpoint exactly when Cassian began this part of the plan, which means you are too distracted to be doing your job correctly. You internally berate yourself for the slip up. 

It’s late by the time you and Cassian are standing on the landing platform waiting for your cruiser to arrive. The wind this high up causes you to shiver and cross your arms to try and protect yourself from the chill. While you’re thankful for your thin clothing inside the incessantly warm buildings, walking out into the brisk night air always catches you by surprise. Cassian in the past has always draped his jacket over your bare shoulders when he noticed that you were cold, but he refrains tonight. He stands several feet away from you with his hands clasped behind his back and his jaw tight.

The tension roiling between you is uncomfortable. There were no soft touches or easy conversations between you this evening like you have grown used to. After you left the office and Cassian behind, you had avoided him at all costs. But you’d catch him staring at you as you laid a hand on someone else’s shoulder or whispered into another’s ear. 

You know that he’s upset with you for tonight, but you don’t know what for specifically. Did he think you were too bold in your attentions? It’s not like you had snuck off into a private room with someone in full view of the entire party. 

The thought briefly crosses your mind that you’re trying to make Cassian jealous, but it’s quickly brushed away. Why would it make Cassian jealous to see you flirting with others? It’s not like this is a real relationship anyway… no matter that you were starting to think it was.

Your transport arrives and the doors slide open. The warmth of the ship draws you in and you clamber in on your sore feet. The high-arching shoes you’ve been wearing are kicked off quickly so that you can pull your legs up to rest on the seats beside you. You’re fully reclined when the journey to your suite begins, but Cassian is still rigid in his seat in the farthest corner of the ship from you.

The warm transport grows stifling as you feel the heat of Cassian’s gaze on you. Your eyes are closed where your head is resting on the hull, but you’re too tired to open them and stare back.

“Go on and say whatever it is you’re upset about,” you challenge wearily. The events from earlier in the night and your subsequent ‘star of the party’ mode had worn you to the point of exhaustion. You were ready to be alone and to sleep for the next standard year.

“You do not think that was too much?” Cassian hurls at you. “You throwing yourself at them? We are supposed to be happily married. Why are you not acting accordingly?”

The force of his anger surprises you; you knew he was displeased with your actions by the look on his face throughout the event, but you didn’t think he was angry enough to yell at you. Nerves begin to course through your blood at his raised voice. It reminds you too much of your mother’s anger when you were younger – you have been invisible ever since then, so no one has had a reason to scream abuse at you. 

Until now.

Despite your weariness and building anxiety, the growing sense of your own power helps to bolster you. You will not let him lambaste you for putting your all into this mission. You’ve been here too long as it is, and you need to get away from Cassian so that you can get back to the right headspace without thoughts of him getting in the way of your duties. You’ve been too consumed with the feelings that his touch and presence bring you when you’re together. Too consumed with the thought that maybe he finds your presence just as all-consuming as you find his.

Your hands tremble slightly with nerves and anger as you plant your feet on the floor and turn to face him with a fierce stare.

“You will not speak to me that way, Cassian. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime. And I do not need you questioning me when you’re the one that started seducing targets without consulting me! I also thought the plan was to be ‘happily married’, but imagine my surprise when I found a half-naked Twi-Lek in your arms!”

The transport has arrived at your dwelling by this point, so you grab the hem of your dress and your footwear before stomping off into the entrance hall. You can hear Cassian muttering expletives under his breath as he races after you.

“If you would let me explain,” he begins after grabbing your wrist and spinning you around to face him. You jerk your arm out of his grip with a hiss.

“Don’t grab me,” you growl out. “We’re done for tonight. I’m sleeping in the guest quarters.” 

And you stalk away, leaving Cassian angry and alone.

***

Night turns into day, and the day turns into many more. Neither of you would admit to what was really the cause of the anger and the fight, not even to yourselves. 

You still attend functions and dinner plans, but the small and casual affection between you and Cassian has disappeared. Instead, quick pecks and a loose arm around the waist was the only physical contact.

You hate this. You hate that you’re acting this way - so unreasonably. If it were anyone else, you might even laugh at their blatant flirtations with others. But with Cassian… any time you see someone else on his arm or someone else whispering in his ear, you see red. The fire you felt that first night with the Twi-Lek comes back with a vengeance and you can’t help but feel stupid for it.

Your ‘home life’ isn’t any better. You both sit at opposite ends of the dining table, staunchly ignoring the other. At least, you try to ignore him. Cassian is still your friend, despite the silence lingering between the two of you. You want to break the war of no words, but it seems like every event resets both of your tempers.

You had yet to return to the extra cot in the master bedroom you used to share with Cassian.

It all came to a head one afternoon. The same Twi-Lek, Anansi, had put her hands all over Cassian in the middle of a crowded dinner party the night prior, eliciting murmurs from the other party-goers about your and Cassian’s physical relationship. Or lack thereof.

You had glared daggers at the both of them, catching Cassian’s eye and snarling your lip at him out of hurt more so than anger. If he wanted to flirt so openly and auspiciously with the targets, then so would you, you rationalized. You found the most eligible officer and made it abundantly clear that you were willing to do anything to stay with him just a little longer. So you went back to his quarters once the party was over. You didn’t stay over for long, stumbling back to your and Cassian’s penthouse long before the suns even rose.

You don’t even fully undress before you fall into a deep sleep. 

You neglect to leave your bed in time for the first meal of the day, but you make it to the small offering a few hours later. Cassian is already seated at the head of the table, so you avoid his eyes as you move to your place across from him.

Nothing is appealing right now, the firewater moving its way out of your bloodstream making you slightly dizzy. You glance up when Cassian’s utensils scrape across his dish.The noise sends shivers down your spine.

“Could you not?” you question quietly.

Cassian looks up with a quirked eyebrow. “Why? Enjoy yourself a bit too much last night, baby?” he taunts, scraping his plate again.

You send him a deadly glare, daring him to do it again. “I’m sure nowhere near as much fun as you had with Anansi last night. Another office, really?”

Cassian slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up forcefully. “At least I didn’t take her home, unlike that officer. Couldn’t even leave the party with your own ‘husband’ – you just had to leave with him. Did you at least get anything from him?” he demands, glowering from across the spread of food between you.

You smirk at him. “Oh, I got plenty from him last night,” you taunt as you stand as well.

You’ll be the first to admit that was a low blow, but Maker did it feel good to give right back as good as you were getting.

Cassian growls and stalks over to you. The sight of his taut shoulders and ridged jaw send you backwards until you’re up against a low table against the wall. His hands land either side of your hips, caging you in. 

Your heart is thundering and you’re slightly shaking with adrenaline. A warm sensation fills your gut and you can’t believe that his anger is making you feel this way.

“Yeah?” Cassian asks in a low voice, his breath fanning across your lips. His face is so close and his eyes are staring deep into your own. “I bet I can give you more.”

And with that, Cassian’s lips are on yours and it’s hard to even breathe. Your arms snake up around his neck and pull his lips closer to yours, deepening the kiss. His hands move from the table and grab onto your hips, allowing him to grind against your abdomen. A hungry growl escapes his mouth when you bite his lip at the action.

Cassian reaches down to your thighs and hauls you onto the table that had been digging into your lower back. You gasp into his open mouth when he spreads your legs wide and settles between your thighs.

The days of anger and pent-up frustration explodes between you both and there’s no stopping the desperate kisses and wandering hands. You grab the side of Cassian’s face with one hand and slide the other down his chest to lay flat on his lower abdomen. You feel his muscles tense as your fingers slip under his waistband to tease him, forcing his hips to rock into you.

Cassian leaves kisses from your waiting mouth and along your jaw until he reaches your ear. He whispers huskily, “I bet he didn’t kiss you like this.”

You groan as Cassian sucks harshly on your neck, leaving red marks. The dress you have on rides up your legs and bunches around your waist as Cassian’s hand trails up the outside of your thigh. When he reaches your hip, he lets out another low groan at what he finds. Or doesn’t find.

“Nothing on underneath? Did you leave him a souvenir? ” he breathes harshly into your mouth, using his other hand to palm your breasts through your dress.

“Ha,” you laugh shakily. You can do nothing except throw your head back against the wall as his fingers travel towards your wet folds. Nothing had prepared you for this interaction with Cassian, but kriff were you glad you weren’t wearing underwear.

Cassian’s thumb presses harshly on your clit and you grasp his wrist tightly to keep him in place. He slowly teases one finger into your aching hole and grabs your neck to force you to meet his eyes as he feels you flutter around his finger. A small whimper escapes you at the hungry look in his eyes and the second finger nudging at your entrance.

“I know you didn’t get this wet for him,” Cassian purrs, still staring into your eyes. It’s hard to keep them open as he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, but the look he’s giving you is impossible to look away from. 

Your free hand that had been on the table below you to keep you upright takes his hand at your throat and makes him squeeze. You gasp softly at the pressure and Cassian’s eyes blaze. He forces himself closer to you, moving his thumb harder and faster against your nub and forcing your chests together so that there is no space between you. Your eyes slam shut when he scissors his fingers to open you wider and you hear the noise of your juices echoing throughout the room from his movements.

His hand around your throat pushes you back against the wall so that Cassian has a better angle at which to see his fingers moving against you. His mouth waters at the sight of his hand glistening down to the wrist. 

You’re rising higher towards your peak, but not quite there when Cassian leaves you altogether. You cry out at the loss of contact and immediately open your eyes to glare at him. Only he’s no longer face-to-face with you – he’s down on his knees and propping your thighs onto his shoulders. Cassian licks his lips as you stare at each other across the distance of your quivering body.

Your heart beats erratically in your chest, and when he licks his lips it sends another flood of heat towards your pulsing pussy. “Tell me how much you want it,” Cassian murmurs as he kisses your inner thighs while still looking up at you.

“Yes,” you breathe, panting and squirming to get his mouth closer to where you want need it. 

“‘Yes’ what, Princessa?” he questions while blowing lightly along your slit.

“You. I want you,” you gasp out. “Now. Please.”

And that’s all it takes for Cassian’s mouth to finally close in and taste you. Your hands fly into his hair and your shoulders are bearing all of your weight as you lean into the wall for support. You tug and pull at Cassian’s hair, ensuring that he’s in just the right spot at all times. A harsher pull at a particularly good lick causes Cassian to moan into you and you nearly come just from the sensation.

He suckles your clit into his mouth and pushes his fingers back into you. You cry out at his ministrations and try to grind against him, but his arms are pressing you down securely and you can hardly move.

“Yes. Please – please. Cassian!” you chant, trying hard not to dig your nails into his scalp and shoulders as your hands grab onto him. You’re so close that you can taste it.

“Did you scream his name last night? Or were you pretending it was me fucking you?” Cassian nips your folds when you don’t answer immediately, causing you to jerk and moan.

“I-I didn’t– Ah!” 

Cassian once again pulls away from you, raising his eyebrows in challenge. You’re determined that this is the last time he leaves you right on the edge, so you lean over and grab him by the shoulders and haul him up to you. You wrap your legs around him to keep him in place and begin to undo his shirt.

You deliberately let your hands press and knead as you tease him, wanting him as needy as you are. Cassian grabs your jaw and kisses you hard as you reveal his chest. He treats you in kind by pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and below your breasts. He palms them with both hands, tweaking the nipples when you reach for his pants.

Cassian rutts into your hands as you work him out of the confining fabric. He’s hot in your hand when you finally release his cock and pump his length. He groans into your mouth again and moves a hand down to yours and pulls it away. 

You try to fight against it, but he guides your entwined hands to your center and makes you soak your palm with your own fluids. Getting the gist of his actions, you rub yourself with his guidance. You’re panting into his mouth as he continues to kiss you. 

You deem your hand thoroughly soaked and place it back on him. He pumps into your fist until his cock is coated in your essence. You reach your free hand around his waist and pull him into the crux of your thighs, guiding him to where you desperately ache to be filled. Cassian pulls your hand away from him and places it against his neck, while his other hand keeps him positioned at your entrance.

He edges into you and stops when he meets a slight resistance. He looks into your eyes for permission to continue, and you nod your head vigorously.

With your acknowledgement, Cassian thrusts in to the hilt. You keen loudly at the sudden intrusion, but the fullness quickly turns all discomfort into an overwhelming need. You open your eyes from where they had closed suddenly and see Cassian already looking at you. He grabs one of your legs to hitch it up further around his waist and uses his other hand to cup your jaw and lean you back against the wall.

Cassian follows you and leans all his body against you. Your naked flesh moves against each other when he begins thrusting into you quickly. You gasp and shake against him, using your arms to keep his mouth on yours as you climb higher and higher once again.

Cassian can tell that you’re close. He raises your leg even higher and places one knee on the low table you’re fucking on, causing him to reach such a deep angle that you see stars with every movement. He’s practically on top of you now, bearing all his weight on his other arm that is grabbing hold of the back of the table to give him even more leverage.

He uses this new angle to thrust hard, slow, and deep. Your eyes water as the head of his cock slams into your g-spot over, and over, and over again. You can barely breathe with all of the pressure against you, but you drag in just enough air in order to scream as your orgasm washes over you. Your arms and legs go rigid around Cassian, forcing him to stay close as he continues to pump into you.

He can feel you pulling and squeezing his dick as your walls try to milk every last bit of pleasure, which leads him to his own finish. Cassian comes inside you hard, groaning in satisfaction. He continues to push into you softly as you both ride the last waves of your highs.

Your legs lose all muscle control and the one not being held up by Cassian drops down against the table. You’re gasping hard, trying to draw in a breath that will allow your head to start clearing from its post-coital fog. You can’t for the life of you remember ever having better sex.

Cassian slowly extracts his length from you and you cry out at the hollow feeling. He chuckles darkly. He pushes the hair that had fallen into his face back with both hands, removing all contact with your skin. “You won’t forget about your ‘husband’ now, will you?” Cassian smiles ruefully.

It takes you a moment to process the thinly concealed venom in his words. You still in disbelief as you puzzle out his meaning. 

Wait… wasn’t that? Didn’t he–?

Your face burns with embarrassment at having been caught out. You’ll admit you were angry at your ‘husband’ at the beginning of this experience, but you threw your anger out the very high-rise window of this dining room as soon as Cassian kissed you.

You replay the words he had said during sex in your mind. You had been too busy at the time to pay much attention to what he was actually saying. He really thought you slept with that officer last night? A Rebel captain, sleeping with an Imperial officer? Who did he take you for?

You thought… but that look in his eyes when he entered you. The-the kisses and the closeness and the feelings. The intimacy that comes along with sex. Doesn’t he…? 

You sit upright and grab the fabric of your dress to cover your breasts. The movement of your hips causes Cassian’s cum to leak out of you, and you watch his eyes trail the droplet as it races downwards.

You don’t understand. You don’t.

Did he not kiss you because he wanted to? Because he has feelings for you? Or did he only do it out of anger?

Your feelings for Cassian have grown over the weeks you’ve been together on this mission, and you thought he felt a similar way. All the intimacy in public and pretty words – even if it has been a while – were they really just an act this whole time?

You stand slowly, feeling your eyes grow hot with tears to mimic the warm wetness between your thighs. You bite your lower lip as you look at the floor by Cassian’s feet.

“I–” you start. “I didn’t sleep with him…” You look up to see Cassian’s eyes widen a fraction. You can’t tell if it’s in disbelief or surprise. “You really think I’d do that?” You question him.

“I don’t know…” Cassian whispers, shaking his head imperceptibly. His hair falls back into his eyes, but he doesn’t make a move to fix it.

You look away from him and towards the skyline outside, avoiding his gaze. You tug your dress back onto your shoulders and wrap your arms protectively around yourself once again.

“I thought you – I thought we… I don’t have sex with just anyone, Cassian.” 

Your voice comes out as a whisper and you wrap your arms tighter around your chest. Your heart constricts in fear and anxiety as you utter your next words. 

“I really like you, Cass. I kind of thought the feeling was mutual…because of – you know.” You shrug your shoulders self-consciously. “I thought as soon as you... felt that I hadn’t been with anyone in a while, you stopped pretending to be mad at me.” You look back to him with sad eyes, tears threatening to fall any second. “We were pretending, right? Because we were jealous?”

Cassian repeats your name in a whisper, sounding like an apology, beginning to lift a hand towards you but seemingly thinking better of it. He closes his mouth and shakes his head in a definitive ‘no’.

That hurt. That hurt bad.

Tears overflow your lashes and a small hiccup leaves your throat, but you nod your head and turn to leave. You feel ashamed of the feelings you had poured into your love-making, realizing that he hadn’t felt it. Realizing that he hadn’t done the same.

You shuffle softly to the door, your steps quiet. Your shoulders rise as a hiccup escapes your lips. You press one hand against your mouth to stifle the sob that is sure to follow. You’ve nearly reached the door when you hear Cassian take in a shaky breath.

“She said she was looking to sell weapons and wanted to know if I was interested. I went with her under the assumption that we could gain ammunition for the Rebellion.” Cassian says to your back. 

His voice is soft. Pleading. Begging you to turn around and understand. Cassian doesn’t know why he had said those things to you just now. Why he had to go and ruin one of the best things that had happened to him in a long time.

He sees you pause in your steps, so he takes a deep inhale to calm his emotions before continuing. He needs to get this right so he doesn’t lose you.

If he hasn’t already.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he begins. All of his focus is centered on you, so far away. “I can not begin to apologize enough for the things I just said to you. Because I was jealous. Very. But those words – that is something you do not deserve. It was uncalled for to act in the way I did. I was angry at myself for not being brave enough to tell you how I feel. For letting you leave with someone else when all I wanted… when all I feel...is...” Cassian shakes his head in confusion while trying to come up with the right way to say this.

You take a moment before asking the question burning burning between you. 

“...How do you feel?” 

You wring your hands nervously in front of you while awaiting Cassian’s answer. Your heart is racing and you begin to feel light-headed from the anxiety coursing through your body in anticipation.

You feel more than hear the quick footsteps that stop just a hair's-breadth away from your back.

“Like…” Cassian begins, struggling to find the right words to convey just how attached he is to you, “like the galaxy wouldn’t be worth saving without you in it.” A tell-tale warble in his voice sends a stab of pain through your chest.

There’s a light touch at your waist, like he’s afraid that you’re going to run away at the slightest movement. That touch sends the chill that had seeped into your skin burning away and leaves you feeling all the warmth that had disappeared when you sat on that table alone. You let out a sob before spinning around to wrap your arms around his neck and cry into his neck.

Cassian hugs one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders so that he can cup the back of your head. He squeezes with all his strength and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. He whispers “I’m sorry” over and over while you shudder against his chest. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I should not have accused you of sleeping with an enemy when I know you would never.” Another kiss to your temple, then one to your cheek. “I let my jealousy overrule my thoughts. I am so sorry.”

You hiccup again as you turn your face to press your forehead against his neck and bring one of your wrists down to wipe the tears from your face. “We were both wrong,” you tell him. “I misread the situation and didn’t give you the opportunity to explain. I just jumped to my own conclusions and caused this whole mess. I’m sorry.” 

Your throat is raw from your earlier activities and your crying spell, but you feel so much better now that your feelings are out in the open and you’re communicating about how’ve you’ve wronged each other. 

Cassian pulls away slightly and moves his hand from the nape of your neck to smooth along your cheek to collect the tears that are still there. His eyes are soft and sorrowful as he sees what he’s done to you. He makes a silent vow to never be the reason you cry again.

“It hurt to not be near you these past days,” Cassian whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “We’ll promise to talk everything out from now on, yes? 

“Yes.”

You both close your eyes and breathe each other in.

***

You wake late in the evening, the suns a few moments from setting. You feel Cassian’s warm breath against the back of your neck and his whole body as he cradles you from behind. You smile at the closeness, once again relieved that you both apologized and confessed your feelings for each other. 

Cassian escorted you back to the master sleeping quarters when he realized just how exhausted you were after this morning’s events. He’d slipped your dress from your form and pulled the covers up around your shoulders when you slid onto the bed. He crawled in on the other side and moved closer, placing a kiss in your hair before wrapping his arms around you.

You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe. If the universe was kind, you would willingly spend the rest of your existence just like this. You turn over as softly as you can, not wanting to jostle Cassian. When you’re looking into his peacefully sleeping face, you can’t help but lift a hand and trace along his features with the back of one finger.

Cassian’s eyes open for a brief moment before closing again, a hum escaping his lips. You laugh softly at his unwillingness to wake up and continue your tracing.

“We should probably check on the status of everything,” you whisper. “We’ve been MIA for a while now.”

“We have, haven’t we?” Cassian’s gruff voice responds. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls the arm that was around your waist up to catch your hand. “Tickles,” he murmurs while twining your fingers together and leaving them to rest on the pillow between your faces.

What’s a few more minutes going to hurt?

***

This is not good.

Cassian had just called you over to review footage and audio that has been recorded inside your suite from the past couple of days. You noticed an odd gap of time between when one crewmate entered the hallway leading to your private quarters and when they returned. This in and of itself wouldn’t have been enough to warrant any worry, but you saw them slip a piece of your Rebellion issued surveillance equipment into one of the pockets of their uniform as they walked away.

There is no way some common staff member could have found some of the only evidence linking you and Cassian to the Rebellion. No way unless they were smart enough and trained in the same occupation as you. 

You’ve masqueraded as household staff enough times that you should have realized that this was a distinct possibility when hiring a crew to keep up appearances.

You’re barely getting over your shock as you move to watch the next clip of the Adarian’s movements around your quarters. You take note of every movement of their cranial aperture as they scan their surroundings for sounds. Cassian had risen from his seat beside you in order to confirm that one of your signal jammers had indeed gone missing and to then send an encrypted message to Mon Mothma and General Draven to let them know you are now compromised. 

Cassian is just returning to you when you come to the last holovid recording. He’s too riled to sit down again, so he stands behind your chair and lays a hand on your shoulder. You place your hand over his and worry your lip.

You watch as the Adarian closes their eyes and presses their head against a wall adjacent to the entryway from the landing pad. You're wondering what they could be hearing when Cassian’s hand grips your shoulder.

You look up at him and open your mouth to ask what the problem is, but he stops you.

“Look at the time.”

You furrow your brows and glance at the timestamp. Your blood runs cold in your veins.

“They heard us...” you breathe to Cassian as you tighten your hold on him.

“I mentioned buying ammunition for the Rebellion…” Cassian remembers out loud. Your lip is nearly bleeding with how hard your teeth are working it.

“Kriff,” you mutter.

Cassian flexes his fingers under yours before sliding back across the room to update the message to your superiors about your immediate removal from the situation. You ponder the implications of ending the mission here, now, and realize that if someone knew enough to plant a spy within the staff that the Rebellion hired directly, then they knew enough to be dangerous.

You stop Cassian before he can send for an escape vehicle. “This is the only one that has shown any subversive behavior.” You begin. “We need to follow them and find out who planted them here.” Your eyes bore into his as he takes the time to deliberate between escape and possible death.

Cassian finally assents. “They’re to finish their shift in the next standard hour, so we’ll have an opportunity then.”

You spend what little time you have planning the recon details with heads together and hushed voices.

***

The alias given by the Adarian, Sulet, didn’t turn up anything useful when the Rebellion ran the initial background check before they were employed, so you are now confident that this is a false identity. Their history is incredibly detailed and in-depth, so whoever they work for has good connections.

You and Cassian follow Sulet onto a hyperbus that takes you to another sector close by, where they are soon picked up by a private hovercraft. You have to commandeer a speeder left nearby, deftly connecting wires and slinging yourself onto the vehicle. The small seat has you pressed up against Cassian’s back and feeling his muscles move as he steers. 

Cassian follows the craft from a distance that still allows him to watch its movements, but not be detected by the passenger. The insane traffic pattern soaring between the buildings on different levels makes you glad that Cassian is the one driving and not you, since your eyes are watering from the wind. You have a hard time focusing on anything further away than Cassian’s elegant neck and windswept hair. You burrow your head between his shoulder blades to escape the biting wind as you both race after the hovercraft.

You feel the speeder slow as the hovercraft drops Sulet off at some upper level quarters. The prime location and size alone tells you that they have the credits to employ their own personal spy.

You watch from above as the Adarian looks around furtively and moves inside.

“What do you think?” You ask Cassian.

“It could be a trap,” he replies. “They were smart enough to figure out we’re part of the Rebellion, they had to have known we’d be able to follow them at any point in time.” He peers down at the unassuming penthouse below.

“Especially with that device and what they heard this morning after we… after.” You blush profusely at the memories that are only hours old and remembering how loud you were when you came on Cassian’s hard…

Stop it.

“We need to be careful,” Cassian murmurs. “Backup will not arrive for a while yet.”

You nod against his shoulder blade and have him settle the speeder down onto the same landing pad the hovercraft dropped the Adarian off. You grasp your blaster firmly in your hands, ready to defend yourself. Cassian follows you as you both dismount and make your way slowly and cautiously to the doors.

You settle either side of the opening and look into each other’s eyes, signaling your readiness after not hearing anything from inside. You both jump away from the wall and bring your blasters up, pointing directly into the darkened living space. There is no sign of movement, the Adarian nowhere to be found.

Sparing a quick glance at Cassian, he motions for you to search your half of the room. You nod. Creeping along the wall, you scan behind the sofa and nudge the window coverings.

Nothing.

You look over to Cassian and find him already looking your way. He shakes his head, not having found anyone either.

“I don’t like this,” you mouth. Cassian agrees with another head shake.

You’re just turning to face the closed door keeping you both out of the rest of the home, when the door suddenly flies open and there’s a blaster pointed right at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise. Your training kicks in and your blaster seems to aim itself while you dodge for cover. Your blaster isn’t the only one that had gone off – Cassian slams into the cushions behind you and rolls down to crouch on the floor with you, his blaster smoking.

Adrenaline is high as you and Cassian take turns to give covering fire as you make your way slowly back towards the landing pad and your stolen speeder. You’re hunched behind a sturdy end table, waiting for your blaster to cool off, while Cassian fires on your assailants. He’s positioned not far from you, his back to the exit to cover your next move so he doesn’t see the figure land just outside the doors.

“Cassian!” you yell desperately, reaching a hand towards him to drag him down and out of the way of blaster fire. Your gun is still too hot, incapable of taking out the figure that has the two of you pinned down. Your hand clutches Cassian’s shirt, twisting him and throwing him down to the floor on your other side. Unfortunately, his weight destabilizes your center of balance, causing your bent legs to give way and making you topple sideways over Cassian’s now prone figure.

A sharp pain slams into your left shoulder blade. You cry out, but still whirl around to fire, hoping beyond hope that your blaster has had enough time to equilibrate. A bright red beam soars from your gun and hits your opponent square in the chest. They go down with a soft thud, leaving your escape path clear.

You turn back to Cassian, planning to grab him and run, but you’re frozen by the look on his face and his hands around his throat. Cassian sputters as if he can’t breathe, trying desperately to claw at his throat to relieve whatever invisible force is closing his airways.

Force.

Maker be damned.

You move your eyes back to the doorway where all your adversaries had seemed to pour only moments ago. Bodies litter the ground, the Adarian’s among them, courtesy of your and Cass’s excellent aim, but there was one person still standing.

A familiar figure you hadn’t seen since you kicked her out of your ‘home’ at your first party.

Your mother stands there, one hand directed at Cassian, fingers curling inward.

“Daughter,” she greets smugly.

“Let him go.” Your voice comes out as a hiss, spitting venom towards the woman in front of you. You already have your blaster pointed directly at her head.

Your mother clucks her tongue. “Now, now, dear. You wouldn’t want to make me kill your husband now, would you?” 

Her fingers come closer together, and Cassian falls to his knees. Your heart twists in your chest at seeing Cassian in pain, but you dare not take your eyes and your aim from your mother.

“Stop.”

“Lower the weapon and I’ll let him go,” she croons with a smile on her face. She is enjoying watching you plead for Cassian’s life. You’re tempted for a split second to do as she says, but Cassian interrupts you before you even move.

“No. Princessa, no,” he gasps. “Kill her.”

Your eyes meet his, and you see determination blazing through him. His strength lends you the power to turn back to your mother and pull the trigger.

Instead of your finger squeezing the trigger, you feel it extending away. You curse and try with all your might to fire your blaster.

Tutting softly, your mother shakes her head.

“I was giving you one last opportunity, daughter.”

Her fingers close the gap between each other and Cassian slumps to the floor.

“NO!” you scream, panicked. You watch Cassian’s chest for any sign of movement, but before you can confirm anything, you feel your own throat being squeezed.

You gasp and turn your focus back on your mother, trying desperately to think of any way out of this before you, too, lost consciousness.

A short sigh leaves your mother’s mouth. “Look what you’ve done, now.”

“Me?” you struggle past your lips. “This is all you.”

“No,” she says firmly. “This is all because of you. Everything I do is because of you.”

Rage burns through you and your words come out icy. “Everything you’ve ever done is all for yourself, mother.” You take as deep of a breath as you can to continue. “Nothing you ever did benefited me.”

“I made you strong,” she growls.

“You abused me!” you cry. Big, fat tears drop from your eyes and what little breath you’ve been able to pull in leaves you in stuttered breaths. “My entire childhood was ruined because of you! My only solace, my only happiness, my only friends. You made them think I was dead!”

“Friends,” she scoffs, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “We don’t need friends. We’re better than everyone else! They should worship us, our strength, our power! We are above them!”

“No,” you whisper out. “We are not better than anyone. We are not anything! You! You think that way. You hurt and maimed and killed so many people because you thought it was entertaining! Because you thought it would teach me ‘strength’.” 

There’s blackness creeping along the outsides of your vision, all the air you’re expelling in your tirade causing a loss of oxygen in your lungs and brain, your heart pumping overtime to accommodate. You gasp big, heaving breaths as you collect yourself.

Your mother stands rooted, anger apparent in the severe set of her mouth and deeply furrowed brows. Her eyes could set the whole city on fire.

You know that there is no coming back from this moment – that whatever happens here, there will only be one of you to make it out alive.

The problem you’re facing now is that you haven’t used your power in years. Over a decade, maybe. The mental muscles you used in adolescence have atrophied in the years that you’ve pushed this part of yourself into the background, trying to forget. 

You pull with all your might, forcing your awareness to focus on your mother. You search deep within her, past organs, past muscle, past tendons. You reach into her cells, finding those miniscule particles she had taught you were the key to your powers. 

You call out to them. Asking, begging, pleading them to obey you. Wanting them to do something that will stop your mother.

Stop her from killing you now. Stop her from hurting Cassian any further – if it wasn’t already too late. Stop her from continuing on this dark path that can only lead to death and destruction.

You feel a rush when the little beings begin to vibrate. It begins as a quiet little shiver, but slowly builds.

Your mother’s eyes widen in fright, her focus broken between cutting off your air or protecting herself from you.

“What are you doing?!” she shouts, arms quivering. She can barely stand, her legs are bowing at the knees and she begins to sink down onto the ground.

The shivering envelopes her cells, vibrates her muscles, quakes her entire body, until she can no longer maintain her hold over you. She collapses forward, crying helplessly. 

The rage you’ve suppressed for your entire life boils through your veins, setting you alight. You feel good. Strong. Stronger than you’ve ever felt; the trials and tribulations she put you through growing up not even comparable to your feelings now. 

“Please. Please! Daughter, stop! Stop!” she sobs into the carpet, curling into herself as if to protect herself from a violent beating, from a violent person. 

But no other threat exists. Only you.

“Why?” you whisper hoarsely, voice barely loud enough to cross the distance between you and your pathetically weeping mother. “You never did.”

With a violent yank, you grab onto the essence within your mother, pulling it away from her and towards you.

She screams for a split second as the power leaves her body, and then she falls unconscious. All the power that once filled her now dances around you. You can feel the energy they house, their want of a new host, their preference for you.

You allow them in.

There’s a tingling sensation across your skin, a warmth enfusing into your blood. You shiver softly, close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. You feel at peace, calm. All your worries have disappeared knowing that your mother could never hurt you again.

A pained groan fills the silence that had settled around you. You jolt, realizing that you need to check on Cassian.

Feeling immensly guilty for taking so long but also incredibly grateful that he is still alive, you rush over to his side. He still lays on the floor with his eyes closed, but you see his chest moving rhythmically with each breath. As you place a hand on his chest, Cassian’s eyes flutter open.

You grin down at him, enjoying the contact as he places his hand over yours.

“You…” he breathes. “You did it.”

“Yes,” you say. “I did. Finally.”

Cassian smiles up at you, pride evident in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Princessa.”

The warmth from both the power and Cassian’s hand travels to your heart, filling it with love and hope for a long life with the man here with you. 

“Come on,” you urge gently, tugging Cassian into a sitting position so that you can help him stand. “Let’s get back to base so that you can rest.”

Cassian comes to his feet and you pull one of his arms over your shoulders, allowing him to place his weight against you. You both begin to shuffle away when Cassian turns his head to look back over his shoulder.

“What about her?” he questions.

You glance back as well to see the crumpled woman on the floor. You no longer feel any fear, or anger, or hatred towards her. You feel nothing at all.

“I honestly don’t care,” you reply. “When our backup gets here, they can take her or leave her. I don’t care what happens to her after today.”

Cassian reaches across his body and clasps your hand within his. He gives a firm squeeze, then interlocks your fingers. Placing a soft kiss on your temple, he urges you to keep moving forward.

As you both walk into the fading sunset, you see a picture in your mind. A murkiness around the edges trying to invade the focal point of the image. But that center pulses with an overwhelming feeling of love, and safety, and contentment. 

You and Cassian stand together inside the image, holding onto each other and never letting go.

[csphire]

Larian, you don't just give us this fine ass tiefling that gives us dreamy bedroom eyes and not let us romance him!

Why Dammon should and needs to become a romance option in a future DLC or Patch:

There are some sparks flying between him and Karlach already. Maybe just of friendship but honestly, I think he's got a little crush on her given some of his lines. It's clear he's concerned about her at the very least, and that could easily bloom into a deep friendship or something more. Letting us romance him on a Karlach origin playthrough could be rather sweet. It could also help shake up that status quo of men being the brawn and women being the brains. At the very least, it would help some shorter guys and taller ladies who pair up feel seen and celebrated.

He's an NPC we see on the regular in all three acts. (Granted he's rather fragile. Seriously Larian, give him more than just 8 hp! Alfira the bard has 20 hp for goodness sake!) Even if he's not made into a companion most of us already make a stop at least once a day at his forge to sell him our stuff. Sure it's business at first. But even in the game currently, he gives the player all kinds of freebies if we bring him the right things. Plus, most of us don't think it's weird at all to support a loved one's time and efforts so him remaining our favorite merchant is not a problem. People have housewives and househusbands they support all of the time, after all. Let us do so with our future forge husband.

Visiting him on the daily is also more than enough time to provide the player with small opportunities to progress in a relationship with him. Once a day he could say something new about his. Or he drops a new tidbit about his past and his passions. The player then could pick a response to up his approval. His merchant approval and relationship approval might be tricky to navigate but could both be displayed when buying or trading with him. He could also pay a visit to our camp on occasion too. Perhaps at the camp party, it starts out as a one-night stand, then rescuing him from the ox later on at Last Light Inn we can admit we do actually care about him.

NPC romances are not a new thing and have been implemented in other games such as in Dragon Age Inquisition with Josephine and Cullen. We also lack a male tiefling option. (Although there are some Zevlor and Roland Stans out there too. Hey, more options with horns and tails the better I say. ^_~)

All the companions have some rather big things on their plate and lots of baggage. At times this can be overwhelming for some players or at least on every playthorugh. What about the Tav or Durge's needs? What if the player is going through some tough things in real life and just can't deal with any more drama? Perhaps Dammon could be an alternative in that he could provide some with more emotional support or comfort. He invites Tav over for a home-cooked meal. Maybe he burns the pizza a little or he could suck at cooking, but it's the thought that counts. Or maybe he's usually a fantastic baker and sends you off each day with some kind of camp supply treat. I'm not saying make him boring but keep his romance a bit on the little lighter side? Why? Some players just overall feel better when their loved one is back at home and relatively safe, and that's valid. Plus during the course of the game, we do rescue him around three times and he's sure to have some baggage from his time in the hells. It would be just nice if he had a little less than most of our companions. If we had a fluffier romance option instead of one that leaves us crying.

He's already a part of the player's story and could help showcase and offer some in-game tutorials for Tinker or Artificer class if made into a full companion or even if he remained an NPC. If shown say any blacksmithing schematics he could provide more information or insight about new weapons and armor. For example, if one misses the sussur bark nature roll he could suggest where to find some if we show him the quest item.

He could provide a story of being biracial. Given his white sclera and other coloring, some are left to wonder if he might have a few elves or humans in his family tree. Granted this might be a rune power keg of a topic but it could be a way to allow many to feel seen and hear a similar story to theirs unfold in a game.

Rumor has it the Voice Actor for Dammon, Frazer Blaxland is all on board at the idea of working with Larian more.

There are a few more reasons beyond the ones given, but these listed here are some of the strongest reasons why Dammon as a new romance option makes perfect sense.

Feel free to comment below about yours! The more reasons the better!

Also, you can submit feedback to Larian HERE. Send them your thrist.

[ishouldgetadiary]

there are definitely cleverer people to discuss this at length than me and there are probably people who already have and come to the same or better conclusions, but i do just want to say that an aspect of kim kitsuragi i can't get over is his disconnect from being seolite (outside of the racism). i don't know, it's very important to have asian characters with strong cultural ties who have that culture accurately expressed through their character/stories and i do love those characters, but it's somewhat rarer to see the alternative (at least, when race and culture is acknowledged at all), let alone it being a point of pride for them, the same way it is for kim. all of this to say, i feel haunted by what he says when you ask him about his heritage.

i didnt ask him about it on my first run (because i found the way the question is initially asked to be kinda rude and i was afraid of if it'd make him like me less, lol) but i did in my current replay and the way he dances around the topic, 'i'm half seolite, well technically, my parents were both quarter, i guess you could also say im quarter, i don't know the language or culture and i've only lived in revachol', it fucks me up so bad! first is how you can tell it's mostly a defensive tactic for him, at least when he starts the rant— somebody asks about the race thing? deflect. i'm only half. i don't even know the language. i'm not one of those seolites. second is how he loosens into pride when he realises/remembers that harry isn't asking to be racist, he is genuinely having trouble remembering that the concept of race exists, but also because it lets kim kinda show that it is something to be prideful about in revachol.

dont get me wrong— i think kim kitsuragi is genuinely proud of being as revacholian as anyone else. he loves revachol. i dont think he’d go along with harry so easily on random side quests or have opinions on if harry helps or hinders the people of martinaise if he actually didnt care. i dont even know he’d still be a cop or (more accurately) be one for as long as he has been, especially when he’s spent most of it as a juvie officer, if he didnt believe in revachol. it’s people, what it is, and what the country could be. people like to take his position as a police officer as just his way of feeling a sense of power in a post revolutionary (khm. and racist) world that has never had the space for him or his dreams, but kim is more three dimensional than that. ESPECIALLY when there are ways that being a cop gives him less power than regular citizens in revachol. he likes, wants, and believes in both, and that’s not necessarily hypocritical. in the same way, i dont think it’s at all hypocritical that his pride is rooted in both his love for revachol AND the way white supremacy has impacted him. because yk, when he’s proud about his lack of connection to his heritage, it’s not just his love for revachol speaking, it’s also the disdain that we, the player, hear for seolite people (at least what we hear from or related to kim).

that all being said, i dont consider that to be a terribly complex thought at all— real life people are complicated and multifaceted, so kim kitsuragi is written to also be complicated and multifaceted. in disco elysium, the writers are never worried about presenting the world in a better or worse way than it already is. yes, it is definitely a heightened version of our reality, but it also presents everything as direct as possible. case example would be the racist lorry driver in what he says versus how he’s presented. in that very first interaction when kim confronts him and harry catches up on what just happened, he denies and hides in the same way a lot of people deny and hide that they are being racist, but you, the player, cannot avoid or pretend he isnt being racist, because it is literally in his name. you are not given the grace of real life where there is the option of either the benefit of the doubt or genuinely questioning your own assessment. despite all of that, ultimately, it is still haunting for that early kim question to be so reminiscent of what i see in real life.

in the example of a shorter ramble, kim's own ramble weirdly reminds me of myself, but in the opposite direction. i very easily and quickly tumble into word vomit and over-detail my heritage just to make it make sense that my name isnt white. and i'm not gonna boohoo over my own personal situation at all when i know i benefit from white supremacy, but i hate that ultimately, white supremacy ‘won’ when it comes to 'me'. because just like kim kitsuragi, i don't know a language that isn't english, i dont know a different culture, and i've only lived in my predominantly white country.

but a more apt comparison is my own father. a man who’s internalised shame cant even allow him to comprehend why somebody white would want a tan, because he’s always been at least a little tan, and that’s part of what ‘clocks’ him as not fully white, who does try to connect with his mother’s culture, but just kind of ended up with only odd bits and pieces of it and the language, because it was something that would’ve just made life harder than it should be, and despite everything, he’ll still do things like dunk on chinese people. there may be more to say, but you get the gist. and yet somehow none of it has quite reaches the point where he can recognise it in himself. because he knows racism and white supremacy is bad and he’s obviously against it, but it is hard to acknowledge that it is greater than just the lorry drivers and measureheads of the world. because we live with the consequences and the rot of white supremacy within us. assimilation has done it's job to it's logical conclusion.

… and yet it is a limbo, and a hollow one at that. regardless of how white i am, i still dont fully relate to my fully white peers, because there are ways in which i dont share in their accepted shared experiences. my father has never felt accepted in either club, ‘too japanese for white australians and too australian for japanese people’ (can you believe that disco elysium was almost banned from my country)! our fully white peers will never know what it’s like to be able to look at the face of a complete stranger of a different race and see family. to see their aunts, or grandparents, or parents.

but kim kitsuragi talks of that limbo with pride. he may never feel a true sense of community with either white people or other seolites, and this is something his brain seems to choose not to fully acknowledge, even though he definitely feels it. and really, it’s haunting in the same way i find both my father’s and my involvement in society disconcerting. the truth that, in spite of where white supremacy and assimilation can get you, you will never truly achieve the community or peace of mind there is in ignorance.

despite all that, on a brighter note, i do think that in terms of what kim truly likes harry for and what gains his trust in him is the choice for harry to be that sense of community he needs. (if i am remembering right) kim will only really trust you if you chose to defend him from the several racists you’ll encounter and make jokes at their expense with him, because it’s highly HIGHLY unlikely that barely anybody goes through that effort for him. even when it’s pretty clear that the writers were going for humorous ‘haha, white guy trying his best to be an ally’ dialogue choices, kim himself doesnt really show that he finds it obnoxious or unwanted, it’s genuinely something he would rarely get other rcm members even though that is the community he’s definitely and wholly part of.

anyways i have no idea if this post made any sense or if im really wrong (i could be!) because it came from a more personal place than maybe typical character analysis but whatever

[ghostbabby]

Heyo! Are you a fan of the criminally underrated game Jet Set Radio? Do you wanna read some expanded fan material? Well I got just the thing! I'm currently working on my fan novel: "Stories From Tokyo-To"!

Excerpt from Chapter 1: Beat It!

...Letting out a sigh, the only thing that came out of my mouth at that moment was a defeated "Damn."

I've encountered the law before. Usually, a good lie, a tragic story with some tears, and a swift getaway solve my issues. But not with this sadist. The dude knows. Every scheme, any lie, all of my possible aliases. It's scary. So all I can pray for is that somehow, along the way, he slips up. 

Ever so slowly, I start creeping away from Onishima. Having no other option, I try smooth-talking with the guy. "Oh! Sergeant Onishima! Is that you? You looked so tall, I hardly recognized you! Have you been hitting the gym? Maybe you're wearing platform boots?"

"Shut your trap!" his voice echoed throughout the warehouse. He wasn't having it. Better yet, seeing me back up made him more than happy to take off his gun's safety. "Do you know how long I've waited for this moment? I finally get a chance to slap the cuffs on the damn shitass who's been causing me months of headaches." The shady fuck laughed a bit. "I knew it was you who gift-wrapped the front of my house last Christmas!"

"I was short on cash that year!"

"You made the letter saying I was cast in my favorite show, 'Power Office Girls'!"

"Aw, man... you didn't get the part of 'Handsome Officer 1'? But you were so happy that day."

"And most heinous of all... you put Vaseline on my squad car handles!"

"Really? That was the worst?"

"I WAS LATE FOR A WEEK! I'VE NEVER BEEN LATE, NOT ONE DAY ON THE FORCE!"

"I'm sure your days must be real busy if eating curry rice in your car and harassing me is the only thing on your schedule."

"All that doesn't matter now. I have you right where I want you. Criminal trespassing, vandalism, and hell maybe I'll throw in theft! These spray cans are most likely stolen." He shrugged and leaned back as if his next point was some sort of stupid revelation. "But hey, it's your life, right? I'm just the swift hand of authority here to take you in. Besides, you're no better than all the other filth in the streets." Onishima tightened the grip of both of his hands. "And we both know you ain't talkin' yourself outta this."

"Officer, I just have one question..."

"And what's that?"

"How fast can you run?"...

If something along those lines sounds interesting, be sure to give all available chapters on either Wattpad or AO3!

Thank you so much for reading and keep on tagging those walls! (Special thanks to @skronklpus for the KICKASS ART!)

Wattpad:

AO3:

[nrdmssgs]

A heart full of pity (part 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (final)

Masterlist Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Nik x unnamed afab OC

Summary: He is a fixer, but there are some things, he can never fix. Things like past traumas. He wishes, he could make it better, take her pain away, but he can't. And can't leave her be either, as for now he is her fixer.

TW: Description of physical injury (burns). Inaccurate description of medical operations and military operations, swearing.

Authors note: This is deeply personal. I do not urge anyone to love Russian culture, and I understand how traumatic any mention of it can be in the current realities. I also do not urge anyone to have a positive attitude towards the FSB. Nikolai is a unique character, he does not represent any realities of life in Russia or work in the FSB. I don't romanticize Russia or FSB in real life. This is just fiction. I don't intend to harm anyone with it.

Thanks: I would like to thank a million times absolutely beautiful soul @homicidal-slvt for opening this character from a new perspective for me. I would also love to thank dear @sofasoap for creating absolutely beautiful Lastochka series, that took my mind on this journey.

“Then, oh Lord, wipe us off the face of the earth and create anew more perfect ... or even better, leave us and let us go our own way.”  “My heart is full of pity,” Rumata said slowly. “I can not do it.” ‘Hard to Be a God’ by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky

“Captain, are you absolutely sure, there is no one else, whom you could send with me?” With each next word, her voice became lower and more muffled - a sure sign that she was growing furious. “I mean, I`ll need someone, who can easily blend in, someone discreet, fast thinking, but most important: someone trustworthy.”

“In other words, you need a fixer. And Nikolai is the best one.” Price remained unrelenting. Her persuasion, bargaining and even threats had no effect on him. “Now how about you quit trying to burn a hole in me with your gaze and start working on the plan?”

Price proceeds to explain her goal and timeframes for every part of the mission, but she is too deep in her thoughts. Her hands clutch in fists and slam against the table. “You can't trust that man with a critical mission. You know his origins!” For the first time in her life, she raises her voice at Price, but he completely ignores it, only adding a subtle remark “I trust him with my own life” before going on with a briefing. And that's when she makes her final attempt to make her point to her captain. “The man works for the FSB. And before you tell me once again, he quitted - they never quit! I know it better than all you here!”

Price raises his gaze to her, but doesn't respond. Instead she hears a familiar voice from behind her back. “Hochesh chto-nibud` skazat` - skazhi eto mne v litzo…*”

She could call Nikolai anything but narrow-minded. Even his insults were constructed so carefully, only them two could actually read into it. Her own origin was no secret here and others thought, it would only make it easier for her to connect with Nik, but in reality it turned out quite the opposite. His background was now his experience, hers - burning, aching open wound. Coming from the same place, each of them brought different baggage to their present life. So earlier she acted like Nik was never around: they barely talked, she never touched him, not even shook his hand, never mentioned him on conversations. As if he hasn't existed. 

But that was until he was assigned to help her with the mission. As much as she didn't like it - Nikolai was the only option she got and that meant, they must talk, learn, how to work together. So later that week, sitting next to Nik on the night train, she finally pulls herself together and finds the courage to apologize for what she said earlier in Prices` office. “Captain is right: that was… unprofessional of me to judge,” she talks quietly to not draw unwanted attention, so Nikolai has to lean down to hear what she has to say. Despite her hesitant voice, she sounds genuinely sorry. “That's ok, little one. I know, you don't hate me for real. Not personally.” He smiles softly, as if just a few days ago they weren't ready to start a real fight. “Hey, I know, it's not my business, so feel free to ignore this one. But you seem to have a reason for all that rage. Care to tell?” She doesn't say much, just names a year. There is no need to elaborate: it was on the news everywhere. And it was ugly. By that time Nik already lived his another, new life far from the Motherland, but of course he and the whole world witnessed, how quickly things escalated, and all hell broke loose. Nikolai slowly nods and calmly asks. “Who?” 

She sighs, looking deep in his eyes, as if searching for something. Maybe for the slightest reason to not trust him right now. "My older brother. Then my mother went to look for him on the streets ..." Nikolai curses under his breath and looks away to calm his nerves down. He doesn't need to hear the context - he knows, how bad it was. When he first saw it on the news, he thought “that's how they'll get a new angry generation, hungry for blood, growing up in shuddered families, witnessing silent disappearances of their loved ones.” So now, he sat in a hand-reach of one of those outcomes. 

“What, you're going to say, you weren't there? Or maybe that you're sorry? I'll save you time: don't bother, I don't need anything from you,” she was tense, angry once again. But this time it felt different: she was actually scared, she slipped too much personal information out.

“My heart is full of pity.” He looks at his reflection in a train window. And just before she snaps back at him, Nikolai turns back to her and adds: “‘Hard to be a God’? Read it?” She doesn't answer, but it's obvious, how she recalls the quote and her rage gradually fades away. 

***

If anyone asked her, where did they take the wrong turn - she wouldn't be able to answer. Her plan was solid and Nik was doing his part incredibly efficient. She got anything she needed even before she asked for it. Nikolai seemed to go full mind-reader mode on. He learned every step of the operation by heart and provided her with the most detailed plans of every location of their future mission. He did nothing wrong… And yet there she was, distracting the enemies, who rounded him up. It wasn't easy, but Nik and her made a pretty good team. What really bothered her was the timing: with that unexpected skirmish, they were now running late. And in her line of work, every second could be critical. So when they were finally done with an ‘obstacle’ - she rushed to her next point. 

Nikolai was still somewhere behind, when she passed a group of teenagers, who seemed to be absolutely unbothered by the sounds of gunshots coming from the empty building from which she had just taken off at full speed. She heard the click of a lighter and a drawn-out whistle from somewhere on the side. She slowed down, but didn't even have time to turn around at the sound when she was thrown forward and engulfed in heat so strong that she couldn't even breathe in, let alone scream. And then the world around her descended to fire.

Nikolai was running behind her, when it all happened. He registered every single second of it, and that only made the whole experience more painful. He saw a bottle with a brownish cloth sticking out of the neck, saw how they set fire to the wick, swung and launched the bottle in her direction. It seemed, he even saw the smallest fragments of glass flying off to the sides when the bottle collapsed on the ground at her feet. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as Nik saw every single detail of her agony. At first she ducked and fallen to the ground in attempt to roll over and put the fire, that caught on her, out. But the formula, that kids had in their bottle seemed to be more nasty, that an average Molotov. So the fire grew. And what was even worse: by the time Nik reached her - the flames were already clearly pale-blueish - a solid sign of some cheap synthetic being burned. The whole scene was quiet to the point, where it was unsettling: she was frantically rolling around, beating herself against the ground, yet not a single scream left her lips - she was only desperately gasping for an air. With one swift motion Nikolai unzipped his jacket, took it off and covered her back, beating lightly the spots, where the flames still appeared. For a few painful moments as he helped her fight the flames, they were both enveloped in thick smoke and the repulsive smell of burnt flesh, textile and hair. Her flushed face was smeared with dust and blood. She tried to cover her eyes with her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sh-h-h-h, sh-h, sh-h, I got you, I got you, you're ok!” Nikolai heard his own voice and realized how pathetic his lie sounded. She was anything but ok: shuddering and convulsing limbs, swollen eyelids, sporadic breaths and muffled whines. But he kept calming her down, holding her so that she did not touch the ground with her wounded, burned back. “C'mon, little one, breathe in. Look at me and take a deep breath. Just like that, good job!” Nik looked around: it wasn't safe to stay there any longer and no matter how hard she tried to stay quiet, every her next whimper was more potent as the pain shock washed out. 

***

In other circumstances, Nikolai would be proud of himself. Never has he ever before found a ride, a safe place to hide in and a medic, who won't ask any questions that quickly. 

He had taken all the lamps he found in the apartment into the living room and was now wiping down the old dining table with a rag soaked in alcohol. “Nik, please… I need to report on my status back to the base.” Her voice was weak, raspy and shaky. “It is done already. They're waiting for an update on an operation.” Nikolai pours a glass of water and brings it her. “Here, you need to drink, little one.” He returns to wiping the table when a glass flies past his ear and smashes against the wall. “Tvoyu mat`! Kakaya naher operatziya, ya yeyo provalila!*” Nik doesn't even flinch, he calmly walks up to the opposite wall, bends down and picks up the pieces of the broken glass. The sharp edges gleam predatory in the light of the lamps placed around the table. She usually avoided speaking her native language, no matter how hard he tried to initiate the talk. But right now, she must have been too furious and upset to choose her language. "They're waiting for your status update. Our operation... is not as important as the one you are about to have." Her eyes widen. “Who said that? For fuck's sake, Nik, I'm ok!”

She tries so lift her body off the couch, but fails, cold compresses slide down her skin and her face contorts in pain. “Doctor Nikolai said…” He comes closer, leans down and replaces compresses with new ones, trying to not look at what was beneath them for too long. It is no longer human skin - it is a dark crimson field of terror and concentrated pain. “Now lay still, little one, save energy.”

In a few hours, she doesn't feel anything but pain. Shame was gone first. When two men carried her to the table as a lifeless puppet, when the cold blade of the scissors barely touched her skin, when the cheap textile that had partially molded with her skin was cut at the seams and the lamps illuminated her vulnerable body - she had already ceased to be ashamed of her weakness, to worry about the fact that her sight could bring them disgust. Then the fear disappeared. The caustic "medical" smell of alcohol, the basin that Nikolai for some reason placed on the floor under her head, the doctor's remarks in a language that she could not make out - all this no longer worried her.

Pain is the only thing left, it consumes her, draws out screams, beats her like a hammer. Nikolai holds her face, brushes thumbs against tear trails, keeps talking to distract her. “Nu-nu, moya horoshaya, nu poterpi eshe, eshe chut`- chut`, umnitza moya.*” He looks tired, disturbed, and so deeply worried. She understands, that something is wrong, it's written all over his face. “Ne mogu dok je ne smiriš! Mora dublje disati!*” - snaps the doctor from behind her back.

Nikolai quickly nods at him, looks back in her eyes and makes the least expected  suggestion. “Ok, my dear, let's sing a bit together.” And before she can figure out what Nick just asked her for, he starts humming softly into her face. “Pust` begut neuklyzhe peshehodi po luzham, a voda po asfal`tu rekoi…*” She looks at him in disbelief for a second. A freaking soviet children song about a ‘Birthday, that comes only once in a year’? Now? Here?! But then she feels a tremendously intense pain, as the medic begins removing a particularly huge fragment of smelted synthetic textile from one of her wounds. So she opens her mouth and start half hissing, half moaning the next line of the song. And it works: even though it doesn't sooth the pain - the measured rhythm of the song makes her breathe more evenly in time to sing the next line. “U-umnichka moya, molodetz kakaya!*” - cooes Nik and keeps singing along. 

The scene is absolutely bizarre to every single person taking part in it. The flickering light of floor lamps directed at the table, the heavy smell of alcohol, blood, sweat and singed flesh, swearing in Croatian, English, Russian, a children's song, barely audible in the sobs.

When it all ends, the medic is escorted outside the flat. "Nikad nisi bio ovdje.*" Nikolai pairs it with a nice stack of banknotes and a gaze of a man, who isn't joking around. 

***

She falls into a feverish dream, when all medical sedatives finally kick in. She doesn't know, how long she lies on a table, and how she ends in a bed. She doesn't hear her own screams, when she accidentally turns on her back while sleeping, but wakes up, when she feels his fingers brushing over her face. Maybe it's just another part of her dream, where she mumbles him something in their mother tongue, and he answers, a low voice reverberating in his chest, to which she is pressed in order to not roll back again. She is yet to realize, what exactly happened and what challenge is she now facing. But what she is certain of - there is an ally right next to her. Not a faceless sum of his past deeds, not the embodiment of everything she hated since childhood, having fled her country. No, there was a friend next to her now. “Nikolai? Why didn't you let Price simply extract us? Just call it my failure. I mean, since I've treated you like shit previously - I deserve to learn my lesson…” “Go to sleep, little one… My heart is full of pity.”

*Hochesh chto-nibud` skazat` - skazhi eto mne v litzo… (Russian) - You have anything to say - say it to my face…

*Tvoyu mat`! Kakaya naher operatziya, ya yeyo provalila! (Russian) - Fuck! What bloody operation are you talking about? I've just failed it!

Nu-nu, moya horoshaya, nu poterpi eshe, eshe chut`- chut`, umnitza moya. (Russian) - There-there, my dear, hold on just a little bit longer, my darling.

*Ne mogu dok je ne smiriš! Mora dublje disati! (Croatian) - I can't do it, till you steady her! She needs to breathe deeper!

*Pust` begut neuklyzhe peshehodi po luzham, a voda po asfal`tu rekoi… (Russian) - first line of a famous soviet song from a cartoon. Full version with English subtitles here.

*U-umnichka moya, molodetz kakaya! (Russian) - My darling, well done!

*Nikad nisi bio ovdje (Croatian) - You have never been here.

[padfootagain]

Stars in the Evening

Hello everyone! Just felt like writing a little something for our dear Obi, so here we go! (Quite proud of this one, btw, ngl...)

I hope you all like it! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of warfare and grieving, sad, hurt/comfort

Summary: This war has taken its toll on you, but Obi-Wan is here to help.

Word Count: 2199

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You know that it shouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

You’re at war. It happens. Dying. Killing. Surviving. Death and life mingled like never before.

It’s everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It’s everywhere, after years of fighting, you should be used to it.

You’re not. It hurts. A lot. It hurts to see your friends dying, to see hope slowly vanishing from their eyes, to take lives after lives because it’s the only way, or so they say. You’re not sure anymore. You’re not certain of anything.

You were not trained for this, though. Jedi, these are keepers of the Peace. No generals. No commanders. No soldiers at all.

And now there you are, in the gardens of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, sitting on your own on a bench, and you’re not sure of anything anymore. When you look down at your hands you’re surprised to not find them reddened with blood. When you look up at the stars above your head, you wonder if they’ll still be there tomorrow evening.

You did not expect this life, but there’s no choice, not any real one, at least. There’s the Force. There’s Life. There’s Death. And in between there are innocents to protect. That’s what you keep repeating to yourself; these are the words you believe less and less these days…

There’s one thing steady though, through the tumultuous current. One constant, as unwavering as the speed of light. A shame it’s a forbidden one…

You feel his presence before he appears. You always do. For a long time, you thought it was because of the Force, because of the peculiar way It moves around him. You’re no such fool now, after so many years.

You love him, it’s as simple as that.

When you look up, Obi-Wan is walking towards you, in his brown robes, in his beige clothes and his leather boots. He’s worried, you can tell. He’s got this frown of his, the one he wears when he is saddened or afraid. His beard and hair glimmer in the soft yellow lights of the garden, it’s warm and reassuring. You’re almost ready to smile at the mere sight of him.

Almost… not quite…

His pace slows down as he approaches, blue eyes fixed upon yours, like he’s afraid you’ll run away and disappear if he comes too close. And maybe he’s right. If he approaches, maybe you will flee. It’s easier than to face the truth.

You want him to hold you tight though. You want him to lie to you, lie to you with all he has in him. You just want him to claim that everything will be alright, just for a moment, before the world crumbles down for good.

He stops a couple of steps away from you, head slightly tilted to the side. You want to crumble. You want to let it all out, but you shouldn’t. You can’t. You’re a Jedi. You can’t let your emotions get the better of you…

He’s standing still, wrapped in his warm cloak and silence. No sound of pebbles rolling under his feet anymore. Just the distant buzzing sound of speeders crossing the gigantic city. The quiet whispers of the night. Your breathing, and his.

He lifts his hand to his face to run his fingers through his beard, his other arm crossed before his chest. He’s worried, thinking, weighing his options. You recognize the obvious sign.

“Can I do something for you, Obi-Wan?” you ask him, breaking the silence first.

He stares at you for a moment more before letting out a sigh, and letting his hands fall idly by his side.

That’s how he feels. Idle. Unable to help. He hates it with all his might.

“May I join you?”

You merely nod, scooting over to make some room for him to sit by your side. You look at him as he does so, movements slow and reassuring, soothing. You stare for a moment at his profile as he looks at the gardens before him. Dark blond hair and beard, blue eyes that seem sadder than they should be. When he looks at you and finally speaks, his voice is deep, warm, soothing. Not quite like a friend. Not like a Jedi. He speaks more like a man in love.

Is it so surprising, after all?

“I heard about what happened during your latest mission. I’m sorry.”

“It’s war.”

“Master Lios was a dear friend of yours. I’m terribly sorry.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because there are too many conflicting thoughts in your mind right now, too many feelings you should suppress but you can’t.

You’re grieving a friend. You feel guilty for making it out of this mission alive when your friend didn’t. You feel relieved because Obi-Wan should have come with you to Tattooine, but he was called away to help Anakin at the last minute. And you feel so terribly guilty for being relieved, but you’re glad he wasn’t there, that it wasn’t Obi-Wan who came with you and died.

You shouldn’t feel like that, and yet you do. Because Master Lios was your friend, but Obi-Wan is…

You look up at him again, blue eyes catching your gaze, and the truth is engraved all over your heart.

Obi-Wan is everything.

He looks sad. Filled with pain. Infinite eyes to host a never-ending sorrow. You wish you could make it disappear, but then again, how could you? You feel just the same…

Because you’re at war. Because you’ve killed, because you saw your friend dying, because you love Obi-Wan with every fibre of your being and you’ll always be apart…

You’re a Jedi. But you’re human too. How much pain can a human take before it kills them?

Only when Obi-Wan brushes the tear falling down your cheek with his thumb do you realize you’ve been crying.

“I heard you were wounded,” he goes on, but you shake your head.

“Nothing serious. I’m fine.”

But you’re still crying, you can’t seem to be able to stop. Silent, salted tears you can’t bite back this time.

Before you can say anything else, Obi-Wan wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

He smells of candles, of leather, of warm tea. Linen. Quiet nights. Early mornings.

He smells like home.

You feel safer, all of a sudden. The lie works, and for a moment more, you believe everything will be fine. As long as he holds you close, you’ll be just fine.

He shouldn’t let himself run his fingers through your hair, shouldn’t hold you so tightly, but he can’t help it. Your eyelashes tickle his cheekbone as you close your eyes, your hair feels so smooth between his rough hands. You smell of candles, of koyo melons, of sweet soap. Cotton. Hidden whispers. Quiet dawns.

You smell like home…

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore, Obi,” you confess in a breath, shaky and fragile, words swallowed by the night as soon as they pass your lips. “It’s too hard. And I… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“I wish we could run away,” you admit.

You feel him sighing, feel the warmth of his breath against your temple, the movement of his chest as he empties his lungs. When he kisses your forehead, you both know he shouldn’t.

None of you truly care though.

“I wish we could too,” Obi-Wan whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you as he moves his lips. “But we can’t. None of us could live with the guilt if we did. Not now, at least. Not when we are so desperately needed here.”

You nod, although you’re not as convinced as you usually are. You’ve had this talk before, the wise resolution is always the same. This time though, you wish he could change his mind, gather his things, and leave far away…

But then, the war is everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It would be useless. There are too many ghosts to leave behind. They would always end up following you. Besides, if you left, how many more ghosts would be born out of your absence?

He’s right. You know he is. It still hurts all the same.

You tighten your hold on him, fists grasping at the smooth fabric of his clothes. As if holding onto a lifeline.

“What if you’re the next one?” you ask, voicing this fear that’s devouring your heart, that’s keeping you awake at night. Your voice is so drenched with tears, so tight in your throat, you barely recognise it as your own. “What if you leave me? What would I do then? Obi-Wan, what would I do if you died?”

But he shakes his head, holding your face in both his hands, thumbs grazing across the smooth skin of your cheeks in a delicate caress. He smiles.

“I will not pretend that there are no risks at all. But it doesn’t matter, Y/N. I’m here. I'll always be here for you. Don't you know that by now? That I'll never leave? Not really, at least. Not the way it matters."

He takes your hand, guides your palm to rest on his chest, right over his heart, so you can feel its steady beating.

“I should not give it away,” he breathes, words that he shouldn’t say but they’re true all the same. “And yet, it belongs to you. Always have. Always will. Even if something happened out there, I would always look after you. Through the Force. I would always be there.”

You nod, and you don’t need to speak the words for him to know that you feel the same. That your heart belongs to him, that it has for what seems like forever, that it will always belong to him.

“I’m so scared,” you let out in a murmur. “And I know it’s not the Jedi way, but I can’t help it. I’m just… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“And this… the way I feel for you… I simply cannot… ignore it. It hurts. It’s painful and maybe… Maybe I love you a little too much, and that's why it hurts sometimes."

You let out a trembling sigh, before leaning to rest your head on Obi-Wan shoulder. He rests his cheek against your hair.

“Do you think I’m weak, for feeling this way?” you ask him.

But he shakes his head, voice hoarse, his throat too tight.

“No, of course not. I think… this is war. And we were taught to love all. How can we fight a war if we’re meant to love and protect even those we must destroy? And we have lost so much already… I do not think you are weak. Not at all. I simply think you’re tired, and in pain. After all you’ve had to live through, it isn’t that surprising. But I also know that you are brave, caring, generous, and loyal to a fault. And I know that no matter how you feel now, tomorrow, when your help is needed, you will answer. Because you were born for this, just like I was. And it is not our way to let others suffer when we can help, even if just a little, even if we can’t save them all.”

You nod, because he’s right. Tomorrow, after a sleepless night, you know perfectly well what will happen. You’ll meditate in your chamber as the sun rises over the skyscrapers, setting their windows on fire. You’ll get dressed. Head for a breakfast you’ll barely touch at all. Laugh at Ahsoka and Anakin and their everlasting banter, because you always do. You’ll talk with Obi-Wan, trying to hide the way you want to kiss his lips every time they move. You’ll train for a while. You’ll wash up and you’ll head to the Council Meeting, and you’ll listen to the reports and you’ll tell about what happened to Lios. And then Master Yoda and Master Windu will turn to you with a new mission, a new village to protect, a new base to evacuate. And you’ll accept, with a bend of your head. Silent. Obedient. Because you know that if you don’t help, no one else will.

“I wish we could be selfish, just for once,” you plead. “I wish you could stay. Just this once. I wish we could both stay and be as we were before all this: a little more innocent; a little more carefree.”

“These times have passed. They are only memories now. But I am still here. I am still here.”

You let him hold you for a little longer. And you wish he would kiss you, but you know he won’t. Because you are both Jedi. Because it would hurt too much to believe in love when dawns are bathed in blood rather than hopes. Because it would hurt him too much if he let himself love you the way he craves to.

Instead, it’s better to hold you tight, and to pretend it’s enough; as if he were certain that the stars above your heads would still be here tomorrow evening...

[skadiloki]

The Wolf Cried Hope Part 1

A/N:Guys I did it! I finally finished the first part of my story. I is proud baby😚. Okay so before you begin reading Ben a.k.a Soldier Boy is a bit OOC I kinda did it on purpose cause we don't really exactly know,at least from the shows standpoint,that he's entirely racist. I feel he's more indifferent towards black people or any person of color as a whole but that's just me. MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING this does contain sexual assault,some bits of sexual harassment and attempted rape so please be aware. I tried not to be too terribly graphic in order not to trigger myself in a sense but reader discretion advised. If anything like this has happened to anyone and I mean ANYONE please don't pull a me,I held it in for months until I finally told my mother,she never believed me cause she yelled at me,called me a liar and then processed to beat me for it but it is what it is,don't do it. Please seek help,I know it's easier said than done but please please please try. Cause it can def mess with your psyche and we don't want that. If it's too much for you to read that part you can scroll past it,it is long so I'm letting you know now,but other than that I hope you enjoy the first part of the story. I worked really hard so please enjoy it as much as you can. Oh,and for obvi reasons I used my tumblr name and not my real one. Happy reading peeps🤗

Words:6,395

(A'ight so I know Leonard is dead in The Boys franchise but let's pretend for a second that he actually lived after Butcher left for the British military and went to America with him at some point after. So right,I know I'm talkin a lot but hear me out. Butcher and the others,others being M.M,Annie,Hughie,and Soldier Boy need some extra help rightrightright with killing Homelander and shit so they go off to Leonard's house for that extra help. 👀👀 Took me mUuUmmfffs to try and come up with something so let's hope this works. Fingers crossed)

*It was Summer,a normal sunny day,perfect breeze,children playing in sprinklers,people barbecuing in their backyards just having the time of their lives like normal folk. Meanwhile Butcher and the others are in the current safehouse at a standstill contemplating their next move and what they should do in trying to take Homelander down for good*

Annie:We've literally tried everything and still haven't taken down Homelander. And we can't have another Herogasm incident.

M.M:If Soldier Boy couldn't take him out there aren't really any more options we can take here Annie.

Annie:My live should be more than enough to help some.

M.M:Yeah but how is that really going to help us take down Homelander in the long run?

Hughie:Maybe we can ask Frenchie to make something that could temporarily take out Homelander?

M.M:With how much time that we have,that'd be cutting it close Hughie.

Soldier Boy:Then how the hell do you figure we take the caped fuck out,huh?

Butcher:I may have an idea.

M.M:Well don't just sit there in silence motherfucker,tell us.

Butcher:I'm not sure it might even work.

Annie:What even is it Butcher?

Butcher:*Stands up from his chair* Come on you lot. We're goin on a trip.

Hughie:A trip to where?

Butcher:For our secret weapon.

Annie:How do you know this weapon will work Butcher?

Butcher:You just gotta trust me love. Come on.

M.M:Butcher,now isn't the time to fucking pussyfoot around the subject. Tell us what we're walking into man.

Butcher:You're just gonna have to trust me on this M.M. I know it don't sound like nothin but it's better than sittin here on our asses like a bunch of clueless cunts twiddling our goddamn thumbs. Just fuckin trust me yeah? We ain't got no more time to lose.

*Butcher leaves the safehouse while the others just sit there*

Annie:Are you sure we should trust him?

M.M:No,but what other choice do we have at this point? We better go before the bastard ends up killing himself.

Soldier Boy:You really think the limey actually has a weapon that can take out that overgrown pussy?

Hughie:He's the best we've got.

Soldier Boy:So the dumb fuck’s leading us to our deaths? Tch,Christ on a cross. How the fuck do we even know that the limey's not just trying to steer us in the wrong direction?

Annie:We don't. Let's just go. Something is better than nothing at this point.

*The four of them get up and leave the safehouse as well to see this so called “Secret weapon” Butcher spoke of. After a solid two hour and some change drive to Syracuse they pull into the driveway of a lovely two story gray home in a pretty chill community*

(Dis da house)

Hughie:This is your secret weapon? A house.

Butcher:It's not the house itself Hughie,it's what's inside the house.

Hughie:Well what's inside the house?

Butcher:You'll find out once we get it.

*He gets out of the car leaving Hughie there to his own thoughts*

Hughie:I've got a bad feeling about this.

*He gets out the car and stands outside along with the others just staring up at the house*

M.M:Are you sure this is the right place Butcher?

Butcher:Of course it is.

Annie:Is the secret weapon the house or something?

Butcher:No. Would you all just shut up,you're doin me head in with all these fuckin questions. Just come on.

Soldier Boy:How do we even know that there actually is a weapon in there strong enough to take out Homelander?

Butcher:For fuck's sake just trust me alright. *He walks up to the front door with the other cautiously behind him as he knocks on it waiting for someone on the other side to open it. A few moments pass by and the door opens revealing a familiar face* Hey Lenny.

Lenny:No. You need to leave,right now.

Butcher:Len please.

Lenny:Absolutely not. Billy you can't be here. You need to leave.

Soldier Boy:Who the fuck is this cocksucker?

Butcher:Oi! Watch it.

Annie:I'm sorry but who is this Butcher?

Butcher:He's my brother Lenny.

Hughie:Wait,you have a brother?

Butcher:Long story. Len,can we just talk,please?

Lenny:No,absolutely not. You can't just show up after all these years and want to talk. Please leave.

M.M:Hold on,hold on,hold on. Butcher. *He grabs his shoulder to slightly pull him back speaking in a quieter tone* Are you telling me that your brother is this secret weapon you were talking about?

Butcher:No. *Turns back to Lenny* Just gimme a few minutes of your time Len. I won't be long.

Lenny:Why should I even let you waste my time,huh? And for what,for you to run off and do fuck all?

Butcher:Alright now Lenny. I know ain't been in touch with ya in these last few years.

Lenny:No. I don't want to hear the excuses anymore Billy.

Butcher:Len I-

Soldier Boy:Enough of this. *He pushes Butcher aside and walks up to Lenny grabbing him by the collar* Alright now look here you skinny good for nothing pussyass scared bitch. We ain't got the time for your bitching and moaning,we're here for-

*Annie steps in between the three,separating Soldier Boy from Lenny and Butcher gets in his face*

Annie:Whoa,whoa everyone calm down!

Butcher:Put your fuckin hands on ‘im again and I'll fucking kill ya.

Soldier Boy:*Scoffs* Is that so? I'd love to see you fucking try.

Annie:Both of you stop it! This isn't what we're here for. Calm down before you start something you can't finish. I am not willing to put this whole neighborhood in danger because of you two and your dick measuring contest. There are bigger problems here that we need to solve and you both getting hostile and being at each other's throats won't help us get any closer to where we need to be.

M.M:Annie's right,now's not the time and it sure as hell ain't the damn place. *He moves past them,Soldier Boy and Butcher now taking their glare-off off of the front step,while he speaks with Lenny* Look,I don't know what Butcher did to you in the past to ensure your wrath. I'm sure his dumbass deserves it anyway.

Butcher:Hey!

M.M:But whatever the issue may be between the two of you is,we need your help Lenny.

Lenny:Why should I trust you?

M.M:You probably shouldn't but we have no other choice. Lives are at stake here,and we need all the help we can get. We wouldn't have come here if it wasn't a life or death thing. Thousands if not millions of lives are at risk and we need all the help that we can get. You can help us possibly save the country if you just hear us out,even if it's just a moment. I won't beg,I won't grovel. It's all up to you. If you want us to leave we can,we'll all get back in our cars and we'll head back to New York and you'll never have to see us again. Or you can just give us a few moments of your time to try and help us take down one of the most dangerous superheroes possibly in history.

Lenny:How do I know you'll keep your word?

M.M:You don't but this is all you got.

Lenny:*Sigh* Fine.

M.M:Thank you.

*Lenny steps aside for them to enter the house,watching them file in before shutting the door behind Hughie*

Lenny:I have water if you want something to drink.

Butcher:*Lays a hand on Lenny's shoulder* Thanks Len.

Lenny:Don't get too comfortable Billy. I'm still upset at you. *He brushes Butcher's hand off his shoulder and walks into the kitchen and sits at the table after kindly offering the others water bottles* So why'd you come? What do you want?

Annie:Butcher said something about a s-

Butcher:Where's Skađi?

Lenny:Why?

Butcher:Cause I ain't seen the little tyke since she was a girl.

Lenny:I don't think that's a good idea Billy. Especially how you left things last time.

Hughie:What happened last time?

Butcher:Another story for another time.

Lenny:Didi's not here right now.

Butcher:Where is she?

Lenny:And why is that any of your concern?

M.M:Butcher you're getting off topic here.

Hughie:I thought we were here for this-

Butcher:Do you know where she is?

Lenny:Yes,why? What does she have to do with possibly saving the country or whatever?

M.M:Wait a second. You mentioned something about a “secret weapon” being here Butcher.

Lenny:Secret weapon? What secret weapon?

Soldier Boy:Are you saying we came all this way for nothing?

Butcher:No.

Lenny:*Sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose* Look,I don't know what Billy's been telling you all but there's no secret weapon here. At least none that I know of.

Butcher:Thus my question as to where Skađi is.

Annie:Does this Skadi pe-

Lenny:Skađi,ah sound.

Annie:Sorry. Skadi? Skađi. *Lenny nods* Does she know about it?

Lenny:If she does it's news to me. She still wouldn't like the fact that you're here Billy. You'd be the last bloke she'd ever want to see.

Hughie:Why did something happen?

Lenny:I don't know. *He glares at Butcher and says incredulously* Did something happen William?

Butcher:*Holds his hands up in defense* Alright,alright there's no need for that Len.

M.M:Butcher what the fuck is going on here? Who the hell is Skađi and what's the reason for this whole back and forth thing between you and him?

Butcher:It's funny you mentioned that M.M ca-

*The sound of the front door being unlocked and open catches everyone's attention then the sound of a deepish husky voice (Imma deep voice girly) talking on the phone*

Man,fuck him. Girl if he was willing to cheat on a fine bitch like you then his ass didn't deserve you in the first place. That nigga ain't worth your tears. Trust me,I've been down that road many times. Well the useless crying that is but you get what I mean.

Lenny:*Laughs* Speak of the devil. (Wink wink) *Shouts* Hi Didi.

Hold on. *I pull away from my phone and shout back* Hi dad! *I go back to my conversation* Okay,what were you saying?

*I continue on my way to my room passing by the kitchen*

Annie:Was that her?

Lenny:It was.

Hughie:If she knows where the weapon is then we need her to tell us where it is.

Lenny:Why would she even know where this supposed “secret weapon” is anyway? Putting her in a room with Billy is spellin trouble.

M.M:If it's to help. We'll take what we can.

Lenny:Ehhh~~ I don't think you want that.

Annie:Please Lenny this would mean the world to us if she could help us.

Lenny:*Shrug* Alright don't say I didn't warn ya. Skađi,come here sweetheart.

Just a second!

Lenny:You lot have fun.

*He gets up from his seat and moves to the opposite side of the kitchen*

Soldier Boy:Why the fuck did you move all the way over there?

Lenny:Oh don't mind me.

*Five or so minutes go by and I walk out of my room*

Where ya at my guy?

Lenny:The kitchen.

Guuch. *I make my way into the kitchen* So whatcha ne-

*Upon stepping into the kitchen and making eye contact with Butcher stops me dead in my tracks*

Butcher:Hello love. Look at how you've grown,almost didn't even recognize ya.

*I scoff then start chuckling which turns into loud boisterous cynical laughter*

Hughie:Oh,so she's happy to see you.

Lenny:*Mumbles* I wouldn't say that.

*I place a hand on my chest,standing up straight,and suddenly full back. That obviously makes Annie and M.M jump up to attempt to catch me but a sudden black hole opens up on the floor and I fall into it and that confused the all hell out of them*

M.M:What in the fuck?

Annie:Butcher wh-

*I appear out of nowhere,gun in hand right under Butcher's chin,growling*

Give me one goddamn reason I shouldn't kill you right fucking now?!

*Soldier Boy pulls his gun along with M.M pointing at me and Annie has her hands up with her eyes glowing ready to strike*

Butcher:I know you're angry.

Angry? Oh,I've pushed past the point of anger. Enraged,infuriated,irked,pissed even.

Soldier Boy:You pull that trigger and I blow your brains out dollface. And I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face.

*I raise an eyebrow at him*

Soldier Boy:Your choice.

Sit.

Soldier Boy:*Cocks his gun* The fuck did you say to me?

I said *My voice distorts almost demonically and I look directly at him* Sit.

*Soldier Boy,M.M,and Annie all sit unconsciously against their wills*

Annie:The hell?

(Oof,homegurl almost forgot. You know we out here with the demonic powers as always,I stay the strongest character in mah shit…But anyway there are Bayonetta undertones in here,first time I've ever done that before,excited. Some Dune too cause The Voice,right? And some Jujutsu Kaisen cause why the fuck not. I know it sounds weird but knowin my ass,oh it'll work. I'll stop)

*I look back to Butcher*

I'm still waitin on an answer.

Butcher:Cause we're family.

*Sarcastically* Oh,so we're family now. That's rich.

Hughie:Wait Butcher,who is this girl?

Butcher:Skađi here is my niece.

M.M:She's your what?!

Soldier Boy:There's no fucking way she could be your niece.

Adopted but niece nonetheless. But saying that would be insulting and going against my word. Why the fuck are you here William?

Butcher:We need your help.

Not interested. Fuck off.

Butcher:It's for the greater good love. You can't just say no and fuck off.

Watch me bitch. *I cock the gun in my hand* I'll see your bitchass in the afterlife.

Lenny:Now Skađi.

You know he deserves it dad.

Lenny:I get it but let's just hear him out.

Hear him out? For fuckin what?

Lenny:Said something about a secret weapon?

Secret weapon? What secret fu- *I think for a second then cackle* Oh you arrogant pharisaic son of a bitch! You think you can just come back into our lives after what you've done? *Growl* I will not be used as a weapon!

M.M:She's the secret weapon you were talking about?

Butcher:Yeah,more or less.

Lenny:You were going to use your own niece as a weapon to kill Homelander?! What the hell is wrong with you Billy!

Annie:Wait,you're a Supe?

In the flesh.

Butcher:In my defense

Fuck your defense. That's not a fucking excuse to use someone you called family William. But knowing you I wouldn't put it beneath you.

Butcher:In my defense it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Why cause you're desperate and fucked?

Butcher:That's just putting it lightly.

God,if dad wasn't here I'd shoot you then I'd revive you just to have Avavago eat you alive!

Hughie:Avawhat?

My demonic pet dragon. Avavago.

M.M:I ain't never heard of a Supe with demonic powers before.

Well there's a first for everything. *I put the safety on the gun and pull back from Butcher* You should be grateful you're still alive. Next time you won't be so lucky. I'm going back to my room. Looking at you makes my skin crawl.

Butcher:At least hear me out Di.

No,fuck you and ya life existence.

Butcher:If you don't help us Homelander may kill us all.

Why the fuck should I care?

Butcher:Because you have a heart.

That may be true but that doesn't mean I'd extend my kindness to you after what you did to me. I will never forgive you for what you've done.

M.M:I'm not one to poke in family affairs outside my own but you've got us curious. Just what has Butcher done that makes you hate him so much?

Lenny and I:Why don't you tell them William.

Butcher:Way to gang up on me you two.

Annie:Butcher.

Butcher:Piss off. It ain't none of your business.

Hughie:We have a right to know.

Butcher:And what makes you think I'd tell you cunts about our little family issue,huh?

Annie:Because you were going to use your own niece as a weapon. You owe us that much Butcher.

Butcher:A thing happened at work a few years back.

Oh Jesus,don't sugarcoat it. Tell them the truth or I will. And if I do,they sure as hell ain't gonna like it.

Soldier Boy:Quit being a bitch about it. So he hurt your feelings,you're so goddamn emotional. All women are but this is a whole new fucking level. Christ on a cross,get over it.

“Get over it” he says. *I pull down the neck of my shirt showing off three wounds near my heart* You remember these?

Butcher:*His eyebrows furrow as he sighs heavily* Skađi.

So you do remember. Consider me shocked. I would've thought you repressed that memory into the back of your mind *Venomously* Billy.

Hughie:You shot her?

Annie:But those should've healed,you're a Supe.

I didn't have a grasp on my powers yet so I didn't heal properly. I don't enjoy the memory but I'd rather save my breath. *I fix my shirt then pull out a chair plopping myself in it* Why don't we show them instead,hm? *I,purposely,smack Butcher in the side of the head,grab at what seems to be his temple then pull back bringing a strip of film,revealing a string of memories* Let's go back eleven years.

Hughie:What in the fuck?! How are you doing that?

It's a part of my powers. (It's a One Piece thing. Forgot about that undertone,but it's just this one thing that Pudding is able to do with her Memo Memo devilfruit) *I do the same thing to myself,without the aggressive slapping and handling,and scroll back an entire decade to one specific memory*

Butcher:(The names and memories will be italicized in apostrophes,I prefer it over quotes in things like this don't know why just do. Back to the story) ‘Alright ya little tyke. You stay here and you work on your school work,I got a meeting that'll probably be the death of me.’

*Giggle* ‘I'm sure it won't be that bad Uncle Billy.’

Butcher:‘You keep tellin yourself that love. Just wait until you're old enough to have to deal with these cunts and I bet you won't be saying that.’

‘Dad said you're not allowed to say that around me.’

Butcher:‘Your dad's not here now is he? Keep it a secret and I'll buy you whatever you want.’

‘Whatever I want?’

Butcher:‘Oh yeah. I'll buy you a whole candy store if you want.’

‘Buy me a PS2 and those two nerf guns I want and you've got a deal. Oh! Games included.’

Butcher:*Pinches my cheek* ‘Cheeky little blighter. You be a good girl for me.’

*Bright smile* ‘Okay.’

Butcher:*Chuckles*

Soldier Boy:Looks like some sappy bullshit to me.

Shut up and watch.

*He immediately stops talking and pays attention to the memories. Ten or so minutes pass by,while in Butcher's memory he's still in the meeting,and in mine two large men enter the room making me look up from my work and pause my music*

‘Oh,uh hello.’

Agent:‘Wow,you're prettier than I thought.’

*A bit awkward* ‘Thanks,I guess.’

Agent 2:‘How old are you sweetie?’

*Guarded* ‘Why?’

Agent:‘Just curious. You look maybe 17,18.’

‘No.’

Agent 2:‘You're younger. Who would've thought a sixteen year old would look as beautiful as you. You surely don't look your age sweetheart,certainly not with a body like that you don't.’

*I shift uncomfortably* ‘I think I'm going to…um see Miss Angelica.’ *I start packing my things* ‘Excuse me.’

*As I step from my place and walk towards the door one agent stops me*

Agent:‘Where are you going? We just want to talk.’

*I brush him off of me* ‘Please don't touch me. I need to leave.’

Agent 2:*He harshly grabs my arm* ‘Why rush? The fun's just getting started.’

‘I said get off of me!’

*I tear my arm from his grasp then kick him in the groin then sock him in the face then making a break for the door only for the other agent to grab me by my hair to yank me back*

Agent:‘You little bitch!’

*Scream* ‘Let me go! Uncle Billy!’

Agent 2:*Gets up* ‘Ugh,you little shit. You'll pay for that you fucking whore.’

Agent:*Pulls my head back by my hair and kisses my neck* ‘You taste so good.’

*Begging* ‘Let me go! Please!’

Agent:‘Nuh-uh.’ *Starts groping at me and chuckles evilly* ‘So soft.’

‘Stop it! Get off of me! Somebody he-’

Agent 2:*Grabs me by my face to silence me* ‘Not today sweetheart.’ *Tears my shirt off and licks his lips* ‘We're going to have fun with you.’

*I bite his hand and claw at the other agent's eyes that's holding me and try to make a run for the door. When I open the door and attempt to scream,my head gets hit against the wall to disorient me and I get dragged back and the door gets slammed*

Agent:‘You're a feisty one aren't ya?’ *He takes off his belt and wraps it around my wrists then he takes off his tie to gag me with* ‘We'll definitely have fun with you.’

*I protest against them as they touch and prod at me,putting their filthy hands in places they shouldn't. I try my best to resist but nothing really works,as the tears roll down my cheeks I scream against the makeshift gag in hopes that someone would hear me. This goes on for several moments,moments that feel like an eternity to me,until it didn't. The second agent pulls me down to the edge of the table by my leg and tries to do the unthinkable*

Agent 2:*Groans* ‘All this foreplay has made me hard. I'm betting you can fix that sweetheart.’ *He unfastens his pants and pulls out his cock stroking the hard pulsing flesh moaning at the sensation* ‘I'm going to ruin you for any other man in your life. You'll be begging me to make you cum then just when you've had enough I'll just keep on going until you forget your own fucking name.’

*I fight furiously against the one holding me down but he proves to be too strong. The man standing before me easily tears the fabric of my leggings off followed by my underwear*

Agent 2:‘God you're such a filthy little whore. Sweet little virgins like you,feisty ones especially,deserve punishment. By the time we're done with you,you'll be our perfect little cumslut. All battered,bruised and fucking obedient.’

*Once he gets close enough to attempt to shove his dick inside of me,something in my mind shatters suddenly causing a mysterious,yet gigantic silky black scaled claw to emerge from the floor grabbing the man and pulling him into the abyss*

Agent:*Draws his gun* ‘What in the fuck!’

*He starts firing at the claw but it does nothing. The sound of loud gunfire obviously draws the attention of others,Butcher being a part of them thankfully,or so I thought,bursting into the room just to see the poor man get dragged down into darkness and the claw vanishing as if it never even existed. From seeing my obvious disheveled look both Angelica,the kind lady who often gives me treats when I come in,and another agent who I found out was named Susan rush over to me to untie me and frantically check me of any other injuries I may have obtained*

Angelica:*Holding my face as she turns it in every which direction to check for other injuries* ‘Oh my God. Sweetheart,are you alright?!’

*An endless stream of tears just flow down my cheeks as I sob,speaking brokenly as hiccups and gasps rack my body*

Th-They t-t-tried to-to…r-rape m-m-me. I-I-I-I w-was d-doi-doing…h-h-home…homework wh-when they

Susan:Sh,sh,sh. You're alright now. You're safe. Let's get you something to put on,hm?

*I nod as she takes off her suit jacket to put around my shoulders soothingly rubbing my back to try and calm me from that traumatic event. Butcher,standing there in pure shock at what he just witnessed. He wasn't even sure if he was seeing things or not but his mind was on autopilot when he drew his gun and pulled the trigger,shooting me three times in the heart. Angelica and Susan scream as I hit the floor now bleeding*

Susan:‘Billy what the fuck! What's wrong with you?’

Angelica:‘Who in the fuck shoots their own niece!’

Susan:‘Call an ambulance Angelica,I'll try and stop the bleeding.’

*Angelica nods and gets up to try and run out of the room but Butcher stops her*

Butcher:‘Fuckin leave her.’

Angelica:*She's shocked at first but then her shock turns to anger* ‘You can't be fucking serious! She's dying because you shot her!’

Butcher:‘She's a fucking supe. You saw what she done to that poor cunt.’

Susan:‘Why does that matter Butcher? You saw the state she was in,you fucking heard her they tried to rape her,if anything he and whoever else fucking deserved it!’

Butcher:‘Bullocks! The bastards deserved to have thier asses fired and prosecuted for trying to take advantage of her,right enough,but they didn't deserve whatever the fuck that was.’

Angelica:‘That doesn't fucking matter!’ *She shoves him out of the way* ‘That's not a fucking excuse to shoot her in the fucking heart Billy!’

*She runs out of the room to get paramedics on the phone to take me to the hospital to try and save me. The memories abruptly stop and the film stripes return back to their rightful places. The others are completely left in shock,even Soldier Boy was shocked,and shocking a man like him with his attitude is quite the feat to achieve*

That's when I first discovered my powers. Avavago saved my life.

Annie:That's awful. I'm so sorry that happened to you.

I've had to relive that nightmare for years before I finally went to therapy and healed. But all of a sudden you *I point to Butcher* show up after all these years to try and fucking use me as some trump card to take down that psychotic fuck you call Homelander.

Butcher:Well what else would you have me do Skađi?

*My already ruby red eyes turn a dark shade of crimson as I bare my fangs at him hissing*

I was fucking thirteen! I'd expect you have some fucking decency to see if I was alright! Not shoot me in the fucking chest! Two grown ass men sexually harassed and assaulted me then tried to rape me all because I was a fuckin early bloomer. The fuck kind of sense does that make Butcher! (I was actually a semi-late bloomer and it was actually my half brother who did that to me. The attempted rape part didn't happen but everything else did,not in the way I described it,but it did really happen when I was thirteen…in my grandparents basement) I cried and begged for help. For you to come and save me,yet instead of feeling safe with the presence of you,Angelica and Susan after that disgusting fuck pulled out his gun and fired at Avavago you fucking shot me! The one man whom I thought was family turned his back on me and wanted me dead.

Butcher:You turned into a Supe. You think I-

Lenny:That didn't give you the right to shoot her Billy.

Butcher:Oh come off it. You're the wanker that gave ‘er Compound V. If there's anyone here to blame it's you Lenny for adopting a baby Supe.

Would you rather I have died?

Butcher:I would have preferred Lenny to not adopt a fucking supe. Like are you kidding me?

I was never injected with Compound V as a baby.

Hughie:You were never injected as a baby with Compound V?

Butcher:What a load of shit.

Lenny:She wasn't.

Butcher:*Taken aback but skeptical* There's no fucking way. No cunt that's a Supe would get injected as a teenager. It's never been tested.

Annie:Butcher is right. Injecting a teen with Compound V is unheard of.

I was eight when they did it.

M.M:But why?

I was born with a heart defect. Atrial Septal Defect or ASD for short. (Which is true) I was diagnosed with it at seven months old.

Hughie:What's that? The ASD,I mean.

It's a defect of when the hole in your heart doesn't close over time. When you're born you actually have a small hole in your heart that will close over time as you get older,mine didn't. I was in and out of the hospital a lot for this condition to try and figure out what to do. I was in foster care during the whole thing,sure my mother was still involved at the time when it was all going down but that doesn't matter. (I am not adopted,although I wish I were cause my mother fucking hated me,still does to this day she just never told me then that she did until I was nineteen when she told me she never wanted me in the first place but she chose to keep me anyway. I'll fucking stop cause this is no time to get fucking emotional. -July 31st,2024 3:11am My ass needs to be asleep) I went to the doctors for years trying to figure this out,dad was in the process of adopting me in that time. The solution was to get surgery done to try and fix the issue and that's when the idea of Compound V came into play.

Hughie:Did it work? Was your ASD fixed?

Lenny:No. She still had to go to Detroit in order to get the surgery done. As you saw the V didn't kick in until she was thirteen.

Annie:Wait,do you still have the ASD?

Not technically,no.

Soldier Boy:The fuck is that supposed to mean? How the fuck would that even be possible for you to not technically still have whatever the fuck that is?

Atrial Septal Defect. It's been corrected,I have a small piece of metal where the hole is in my heart. (Which is also very much true) So in a sense I do still have it,it's just been corrected.

Annie:And you're saying you could've died if it wasn't corrected?

Yes. (That's not entirely true,it is a possibility but without it being corrected the person with it can and will live a bit of a harder life because with ASD it causes your heart to skip beats,which is fucking painful by the way especially paired with SVT…another story for another time but back to what I was saying,yes it can be hard living an adult life with an uncorrected ASD but yes you can ultimately die from an untreated hole in the heart in the end)

Annie:That's awful.

I'm alive and that's all that matters.

Butcher:Look,I'm sorry for what I did to you back then okay? But we need your help more than ever.

You're sorry? You're fucking sorry! After you fucking shot me,you never came back! It took you eleven years to come back after that to finally say you're sorry after you shot me and practically left me for dead and disowned me then dad for making a life saving decision. Why the fuck should I forgive you when I have every fucking right to hate you until the day you fucking die?

Butcher:Cause it's the right thing to do.

Oh that's rich coming from yo stankass. Miss me with that bullshit. You're only here cause you want to use me as a weapon. If I didn't have V running in my veins you wouldn't be here right now Butcher.

Butcher:Just help us out on this,yeah,then you and Len don't got to see me no more.

You don't deserve my help. Fuck you. I'm going back to my room.

*I leave the kitchen to walk back to my room*

Butcher:Lenny.

Lenny:She's made her mind. You've outstayed your welcome Billy. You and your friends need to leave.

Annie:There has to be a way to convince you to get her to help us. Please,we need her help.

Lenny:You'll have to convince her. She's the one with the powers.

M.M:How do we get out of the chairs if she practically forced us to sit in them? We're stuck.

Lenny:She did force you true enough but that's not how her powers work exactly.

Hughie:How do you figure?

Lenny:If Di told him *He points to Soldier Boy* to shut up and watch and yet he's able to talk right now. How do you think it works?

M.M:So it's only temporary?

Lenny:*Shrug* I don't know how it works exactly but you're free to move as you please now.

*As if on cue,surprisingly,Soldier Boy gets up to chase after me. Without knowing the layout of the house he easily gets lost,I roll my eyes at the slamming of different doors*

Oh sweet Jesus. *I get up from my bed and open my door,leaning against the door frame* If you're going to look for me the least you could do is at least call out to me instead of slamming every door in the house. It's annoying to hear doors halfway across the house slamming with a mighty boom,shut.

Soldier Boy:*Chuckles* You are much prettier up close and personal. It's hard not to try and control myself in the presence of such a gorgeous woman even as a black woman.

Wow,as if that wasn't the slightest bit microaggressive. What do you want Soldier Boy?

Soldier Boy:You know me?

I've heard of you. Dad spoke of you a few times and I've seen a picture.

Soldier Boy:I ain't gonna sugarcoat it for you sweetheart.

Skađi.

Soldier Boy:Whatever. What happened to you was downright awful. No woman should ever have to go through with that,those pussies were nothing but little boys. A real man would treat his woman with respect even if she was a little girl. A girl's place-

Okay lemme stop you right there. Are you actually going somewhere with this lecture of what,gender role,somewhat potential misogynistic spiel of yours or are you gonna cut to the chase my guy?

Soldier Boy:Well don't you got a smart mouth.

Apologies,afraid that's genetics. Can't help it not that I personally would in this current situation but do continue.

Soldier Boy:I'm surprised no one has smacked that mouth of yours let alone your ass.

And I'm surprised they let a man like you walk the earth with your close minded ideologies. Shouldn't you be in a nursing home,old man?

Soldier Boy:Look ya little piece of shit. We need your help,put your bullshit aside and think about the shit that could happen if that fucker roams free.

Why should I help you? I don't know you like that.

Soldier Boy:If you fucking think for a goddamn second then you'd be putting people in unnecessary danger. Think of that awkward pussy in the kitchen. I don't know how someone like him could adopt someone like you.

First of all that's rude and a tad bit underlyingly racist,second that's my dad and his name is Leonard. Skip to the point gramps.

Soldier Boy:*Groans in slight irritation* Think of it this way dollface-

Again my name is Skađi.

Soldier Boy:Think of it this way. If your…dad,was in danger would you not do something to save him?

Of course I would.

Soldier Boy:Now think about it when you put Homelander in the picture. He'd be putting him in immense danger and that's clearly the last thing you want right?

Yes.

Soldier Boy:Then you can help us with this one thing then you can go the fuck about your life when it's done,alright?

What makes you think I'll accept?

Soldier Boy:You will or you won't,doesn't matter to me but you know good and damn well you wouldn't let anything happen to that Lenny guy and if something did you probably wouldn't be able to live it down. Make the choice sweetie cause we don't have all day.

A/N:Holy fuck that was a shitton of copying and pasting😮‍💨 but that's the end of the first part. Yay! I know you saw a specific word in the story,like I said in the little preview of the story I cuss a lot myself and that word,don't try and argue with me 'bout it cause you'll just get proved wrong,is literally something I say cause it's just so natural to me and I just grew up around people who said it. And cussing can be genetic so there's that. But leave a comment and a like...please🥺 if you want to read more. Share with your friends if you wanna.

@tarjapearce

[siriannatan]

1920s mafia!Au with Flower Ranchers

Guess who watched Bernadette Banner and got inspired for some Mafia!au stuff?

I did. And I decided to delve into the Flower Ranchers pit.

Agreeing to infiltrate the Ranch - a high-profile club owned by a mysterious gangster known only as Canary- was probably Scott's biggest mistake in a while. Not that he had many other jobs to think about. Or an option to say 'no', You don't simply say 'no' to Grian. Not with a serial killer hunting him for some bizarre reason and Grian saying he can get her to stop. Scott had no idea how he was supposed to do it but meeting her would probably be better than his current situation.

The main and frankly only thing Grian wanted was Canary's real name. Scott had no idea why and what for he wanted it. But he managed to get into the bar despite not really fitting the usual guest list through an interview for a singer. A cute, blonde man in a pinstripe, three-piece suit made of dark navy fabric and a lighter blue undershirt was overseeing it all. The eyepatch over his left eye was curious. He guessed he was managing the club for Canary. By his side, with no break was a guard. Also blonde, dark ash grey shirt and deeply red trousers with black suspenders. Blonde. Red eyes. A meta-human judging by the flames dancing in his eyes whenever anyone got too close to blondie with the eyepatch.

After his turn Scott decided, in a flash of genius, to sneak about behind the scenes of the establishment. Not a good decision since the fire-eyed blonde was currently pressing a knife to his back. On the perfect spot where no ribs would stop him from stabbing Scott's heart before he could even think about fighting back. "Whatcha' doing' back here precious?" he asked, pushing the knife a bit harder.

"Looking for the toilets," Scott nervously chuckled out an excuse.

Red, as Scott decided to start calling the scary guard, huffed, clearly not believing Scott. "Yer' lucky boss likes your face and voice..." was the last Scott heard before being knocked out.

Scott woke up with an intense headache. And the voice he vaguely recognised as the blonde man with the eyepatch. "Calm down Tango, I'm the boss, I can do whatever I want," he didn't sound at all bothered by whatever 'Tango' was bothered by. With a groan, he absolutely was not able to not make Scott decided to open his eyes. Pinstripes and eyepatch was sat in an armchair in the club in Red's lap. "Looks like Scotty's waking up," he chuckled and Scott felt his already low body temperature drop even lower.

Just how much did he know already? Where in the frozen hells did Grian send him...

"I'm going to guess my lovely brother has something to do with your sneaking," pinstripes continued to grin as he presented Scott with a photo of him and Grian talking. "I like to keep an eye on my charming siblings, just so they don't get in the way too much, especially Grian," he chuckled as he tossed the photo away. 

"I had no idea who..." Scott tried to protest. He was a dead man if Grian heard he was caught. If not by Grian's goons then Pearl would hear just where she could find him.

"Shush, no need to panic, your face's pretty enough to make me want to not let Tango redecorate my club," he was stopped and blondie stood up. Red huffed and glared at Scott. It was probably best for Scott to listen to what eyepatch had to say. "I'm guessing he had to have something good to offer you, like keeping a certain sister of ours away from that pretty face of yours. Tango here also happens to know of your talents outside of singing..."

He definitely knew far too much. No one but Pearl and Grian knew what he was capable of outside his occasional performances at local clubs, bars and even rarer - the theatre. He could only hope pinstripes - he was more and more certain he's talking to the Canary - did not know about his meta-human abilities. Not even Pearl knew about that and they used to work together before it ended in an unfortunate circumstances and ended with her hunting him down... But if the sibling talk was real... Scott was sure there was frost forming on his skin but absolutely did not want to look at it.

"I say the abilities of someone who once managed to keep up with Pear's temper and work style could do much better than running Grian's useless errands. What did he even send you here for?" he asked with a tiny grin.

He no doubt already knew but what choice Scott had but to humour him. "Canary's real identity," he said and was totally stunned as the other started to laugh. "He said he'd get Pearl off my case, she was getting really hard to avoid," Scott mumbled and Tango's glare softened slightly. 

"She can be a bit much," pinstripe hummed. "Well, that's a surprise," he chuckled. "I suppose my acting's better than I thought. I thought he'd figure it out by now. No matter, I'll deal with my brother another time. As for you, little flower, how about working for me instead? Pearl avoids this place like fire, and you sing very nicely, so how about staying here? No grumpy faces Tango."

"As long as I can do some stuff of my own," Scott said before he could stop himself. Couldn't he just say no and look for a way to get as far from these accursed siblings as he possibly could?

"I don't see why not as long as it doesn't get in the way of my business and work for me takes priority," the Canary shockingly agreed. Red, or Tango did not complain in any way. "But when not performing or doing your own things, you'll be staying close to me and Tango. I'd hate for someone to bother my cute new singer," the Canary, or Jimmy as he introduced himself while giving Scott a tour of the backrooms. Red - Scott would only call him that since it seemed to annoy him slightly - was one step behind them the whole time.

Over the next few days, Scott followed Jimmy along with Red. He was very touchy but at least he was pretty and Tango was scary enough to keep most trouble away. And turned out to be a great pianist when the usual one was suddenly killed not too far from the club. It very much seemed like a Pearl kind of a kill so Scott was obviously a bit tense but still gave a great performance. Jimmy sitting in the audience with two guards replacing Tango certainly helped. She wouldn't do anything with him around, right?

Aside from Tango purposely making the usual set of songs harder the evening went well. Grian was among the guests but he was easy to ignore. Jimmy seemed to be enjoying himself. A very good evening he'd likely get very praised for. He was honestly getting used to being just Jimmy's favourite singer, even if other performers looked weird at him. So what if Jimmy also liked him as a pretty accessory? Tango was for being handsome and scary, and Scott was for being pretty and keeping Jimmy from being too angry at his problems.

"I'll grab a drink," Scott told Tango after their performance was over. Red just nodded and was off to rejoin Jimmy's side. Other guards instantly cleared out, a rather amusing sight considering Tango wasn't all that tall, he was quite a fireball when angry.

By the bar Scott made sure to also ask for Jimmy's favourite drink along with his water and was about to go to his new boss when a commotion started and suddenly very close to him was a barely held back by guards Pearl. If looks could kill Scott'd be a dead man. He didn't really see Pearl since the 'betrayal', at Cleo's funeral house but was still quite confident he'd be okay. As long as guards could hold her back long enough for him to reach Jimmy...

"You traitor!" Pearl called out along many mean words but Scott was not quite listening to her. He was never one for much conflict. Thievery? Lying? Even more theft? Yes, yes, yes. Bringing a big issue - one Jimmy knew about but still - over to a bar owned by a mob boss? Hell no and so he seized up. Chill climbed up his spine and frost formed on the glasses he was holding.

And then there was sudden heat and a Tango between him and Pearl and a hand on his back. "Sorry dear sister but I'll have to ask you to be nice to my performers, especially Scott, he's kind of my favourite alongside Tango," Jimmy's voice. Scott decided to ignore all that was happening and focus on the half-hug Jimmy had him in. Otherwise, he'd probably freeze the whole building.

He was so focused he totally missed Pearl leaving and being moved to Jimmy's office. Only Tango's freakishly warm hands on his face shook him out. "Sorry... open conflict's not my thing and..." Scott instantly jumped into apologising.

"It's all okay Scott, the boss knows, he's currently arguing with his siblings about that whole thing. Pearl had to find out somehow you're here... I'd be more worried about them than the boss," Tango gently explained as Scott slowly recovered. "He got really worried when you got all unresponsive, told me to make sure you're oka..." Tango rambled. He was clearly not used to having to explain himself in any way that did not include punching and burning. Not that Scott cared, he was warm so he just hugged him.

"Warm..." he offered as an explanation. Tango was really pleasantly warm. "Just a little while... My power is a bit hard to control..." he sighed while practically melting into Tango on Jimmy's office carpet.

And that's how Jimmy found them shortly after. His wings were no longer hidden by the illusion he usually kept up. "Scott? Oh my... I'll murder Grian one of those days... Bringing Pearl here when I said she's banned," he huffed as he joined the hug, completely ignoring Tango's hopeful look at a chance of no longer having to have emotions.

"Come on Red's it's just a hug, you're warm, I can give you a kiss later," Scott hummed even happier with Jimmy and his wings providing additional warmth and comfort.

"Boss..."

"What he said, Tango, but I say we move it somewhere more comfortable where idiots won't be looking for me," Jimmy made the final decision. "I'll leave revenge for later. NO one scares my favourite people and gets away with it. No one," he huffed as Tango carried Scott somewhere - Jimmy's room - that didn't matter at the moment. Being comfy and warm came over anything after losing control.

[fancy-rock-dove]

Thoughts on why the main relationship in TGCF manages to be full of tropes that are trash-associated but is also deeply compelling:

There are SO MANY nuances of the complicated power dynamics and self-sacrifice in Hualian’s relationship that could’ve been cringily unhealthy at so many points and THEN they just WEREN’T. Not ever. Not once

Every time I revisit this novel, I remain so impressed with MXTX’s capacity for nuance. These two are so gone on each other. Hua Cheng literally worships Xie Lian like a god. They would commit atrocities for each other. There are literally characters in the novel who worry about the sheer, unconditional trust Xie Lian gives to Hua Cheng no matter how many secrets he has. In a lesser writer’s hands, this exact dynamic is unhealthy to the point of atrocity: one becoming an unmoored monster and the other both enabler and victim. The shadow of this dynamic is hinted at in the book 4 flashback but it is specifically not allowed to actually become that. Never do we see even a shade of that relationship slip into the book itself, because that’s not how it really is for these two, not even in the darkest flashback moments.

Many narratives in which this level of devotion is present, it would be accurate to call it blind devotion, which becomes uncomfortable for the sake of the follower and unhealthy for the development of their love interest, but here the devotion is so continuously and unfailingly anchored not in looking the other way (the damaging nature of doing so being one of the core themes of the novel) but is conversely about seeing clearly and understanding fully.

So when Hua Cheng does things like offering to take the plague sword and release the disease on Yong’an himself, it actually has the effect of letting Xie Lian see the effect these choices are having on himself more clearly. It was absolutely necessary that Wu Ming not say “let me do this because you want it done” but instead say “I would do this if you needed me to and you didn’t want to because I independently understand why you want this”, because then, refusing him is a real reflection for Xie Lian on himself. There is self-sacrificing devotion in the relationship, but only for the sake of their actual wellbeing, never just while following a blind desire to do what they say.

Like, Hua Cheng can refuse Xie Lian. That’s a pretty foundational thing that happened. He does refuse him things from the beginning, even in the most basic, relationship-defining things. Xie Lian asked him to forget him after the burning of his temples and he refused, and here we are now. It’s a devotion to each other’s wellbeing, that also manages to be so without either of them assuming they know better than the other what that person needs or wants. The only time Hua Cheng actively sacrifices himself (which Xie Lian definitely wouldn’t want if asked) it’s in pursuit of the goal/outcome that XL wanted/needed to happen.

There manages to be complete devotion to each other, and also deep respect for each other’s choices and judgement, and those things…. often don’t coexist in fiction. Like, Hua Cheng introduced nothing if not agency to Xie Lian’s life. In the grand majority of the side arcs, often the “twist” in the mystery we’re exploring is some variation on “was someone forced to do something? No, they had agency!” And whether what they did with it was bad is also very much up for debate. The backstories and current stories of our protags were often journeys in recognizing that they’re not absolved of personal responsibility for lack of easy options, and show them winning by choosing to wrest back agency instead, even to their own detriment. “Take the third path”, “no paths are bound” etc. are catchphrases of our main character for a reason. Sometimes the best option still ended in tragedy, but it didn’t compromise their integrity. I LOVE “no paths are bound” as a tagline for this book and a catchphrase for Xie Lian, because it ALSO ties the good things about the main relationship into the main themes of the book. Hua Cheng’s goal is not just to be able to protect, which he probably could have done as an ordinary super ghost, but to be powerful enough to put every single possibility on the table for Xie Lian. Hua Cheng needed to be the Most Powerful, because he decided that if Xie Lian wants to do something, Hua Cheng needs to be strong enough to make it happen, needs to make it so that that every option, every path, is always under serious consideration. He literally made it so that any roll of the dice was an equally good outcome (Which is the best rationale for designing an OP character I’ve ever heard in my life). He’s not preventing danger, but instead increasing his agency in the face of it. Essentially “If what you end up choosing is MORE DANGER then I’ll be unhappy about it but I won’t stop you, I will work to make that path walkable too. I’m not here to keep you on a path, I’m here to open and smooth the one you most want to use.”

And, moreover, both people are able to be insanely cool and insanely powerful and be looked up to by the other, because while the power dynamics between them, perceived or real, could’ve been uncomfortable at many points, they WEREN’T. The people involved are on even footing even when they think they’re not. There was never a time when their presence wasn’t good for each other, even before Xie Lian knew to pay attention. Even in Hua Cheng’s very earliest appearances in the book 2 flashbacks, it’s really notable that he had enough effect on Xie Lian and his well-being that he appears multiple times in Xie Lian’s memory of those events, even though he had no idea who he was, or even that all his appearances were the same person.

MXTX really seems to grasp what’s attractive about these protective/super-powerful-boyfriend dynamics in fiction, why they often go badly wrong/make fiction bad rep of healthy relationships, and then SHOWS THEM IN THEIR HEALTHY FUNCTIONAL FORM INSTEAD so we’re free to love what we love about them. At the end of the day, we’re shown the way the best of these things all ideally point to love and concern for the other person as they are, before any considerations of their role in your own life or what they do for you. BUT with the expectation of reciprocal respect and latitude to do what you need to do as well.

I’ve never seen another story do this quite so well with such so-often-abused tropes and dynamics, and it’s one of the reasons that the romance in particular makes this work so near and dear to me.

It kinda reaffirmed my ability to see these things I naturally love seeing in love stories as healthy, reasonable forms of affection and devotion when based in an actual healthy relationship. When much, much fiction that treats similar dynamics badly makes me want to feel bad for enjoying aspects of them.

So seeing THIS relationship be what it is was a validating, freeing, and clarifying experience.It basically explained for me why I like these things, and elucidated why, for me, they fit into my paradigm of ideal romance and devotion, even (especially) when they can be problematic if treated wrong.

In essence, seeing these tropes done well is also an exercise in seeing what was missing in cases where they were damagingly removed from context, and thus understanding their key aspects and the core behind their impact. This book actually literally kinda reframed the way I conceptualize romance by helping me put together how many of the tropes I love in romances actually fit into an ideal relationship.

A spring cleaning of my thoughts if you will.

An ordering of my conceptions.

And I bonded with it deeply for that.

And yet it is also trash, who would’ve thought.

(it is self-aware, culture-savvy, meta-commentary trash for the most part, that clearly leans into it with fond intention, so I really do not mind it. It manages to be genre bending while expressing only love for its own genre and why it is the way it is. No disdain here. Only love for things as they are.)