#like the urge to completely change myself and become a different person entirely and get as far away from my usual environment as possible

[robinsnest2111]

tfw I find out that some problematic behaviours, thoughts, and urges I experience when in a stressful/triggering situation are actually considered black and white thinking

hmm. interesting. I wasn't aware that that's what I'm doing.

[kingofpopmj]

Conscious Decision

Part 4

July 16th, 1988

*Michael’s POV*

“I think my mom is upset I stole you from her.” I said playfully. She shook her head laughing.

“Well, I am her favorite.” She teased. We were getting ready for the day. Together. For a moment, I imagined we were a normal couple getting ready for work. She was heading off to the hospital while I was off to the office. We lived in a beautiful house in a nice neighborhood. We lived nearby the school, so our kids could ride their bikes. Our kids were kids. We were happy. “She’s not mad. She loves us together.” Y/N added kissing my shoulder.

Thankfully, it took very little convincing to get Y/N to move into my suite. It’s a bit more spacious and more importantly there are two beds. We’ve shared a bed before, but given recent events in our relationship sharing a bed came with added pressure. I don’t want to rush anything and ruin this. This was a lifetime in the making.

As much as I want to completely immerse myself in Y/N, in our relationship, I have to be smart about it. I have to be careful. I’d never forgive myself if I put her in danger. I don’t want to be this paranoid, but so much has changed over the past few years. This life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I do my best to adapt to the circumstances without compromising who I am. I’m human. I’m not that different. I’m not weird even though people try mercilessly to label me as such.

I sit on the bed watching her style her hair and I could feel my heart rate increase. I remember doing this exact same thing throughout our relationship. When we were kids I nagged her, sometimes threw a pillow or two to get her to hurry. Then, as teenagers I had to fight the urge to stare- to admire her the entire time. It was some of the best and worst times of my life. We were so close. She was so close yet so far. And now, we’re here, where we belong.

Y/N is my safe haven. She always has been. She’s always the one I run to. When my dad lost his temper. When my brothers teased me. When I felt unworthy. When I felt I couldn’t handle the world watching me constantly. When I let the awful words of the press affect me. As long as I protect her she’ll always be there. She won’t have to struggle to adapt if I just keep her safe.

She’s everything. She’s my everything.

She was the first person I confided in when I noticed discoloration on my chest and legs. She didn’t wince at the sight, she didn’t call me names and above everything she didn’t treat me different. She helped me find the best dermatologist and she was with me every step of the way. I guess that’s one of the advantages of your best friend being a doctor. Y/N made sure I got the best care. She explained everything to me in a way I could understand. She protected me from being poked and prodded at. She refused to let anyone treat me like a walking circus act, which unfortunately has become my new normal.

“I’m ready.” I heard her sweet voice and immediately she had my undivided attention.

“After you my lady.” I smiled holding my arm out for her to take.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to tag along?”

“You’re only here a few more days. I want as much Y/N time as I can get.” I giggled as we piled into the elevator. I’m accompanied by guards everywhere I go, but lately it’s dawned on me just how abnormal it is. My life has changed so much and being with Y/N I can’t help but notice it all. She reminds me of everything I love. Everything I’ve been missing out on. Everything I never want to be without.

“I’m not ready to leave you.” She said softly wrapping her arms around my waist. She subtly surveyed the small space filled with giant men before pulling away from me.

“Don’t.” I whispered pulling her back into me. Usually, I avoid physical touch, public displays of affection, but that doesn’t apply to Y/N. She has her own set of rules. That means she could do absolutely anything she wants to me, for me, around me and I’m all for it. She makes me feel everything. She makes me feel. No matter what’s going on around us I can be myself with her. Our own little world; my escape. It’s a feeling I thought I’d lost forever, but I was wrong.

“Wait!” I turned to Y/N as the elevator came to a stop. The noise from outside becoming overwhelming as the doors opened. I stood for a moment trying to think. “Here.” I took my jacket off before throwing it over her head.

“Michael, what’s going on?” Her voice was muffled and slightly annoyed.

“Just trust me.” I secured my face mask before stepping out of the elevator guiding Y/N beside me.

“I can’t see.” She complained. “Is this really necessary?”

“I got you.” The screams intensified as we neared the exit. “We’re almost there.” I held onto her as the crowd enclosed around us. There was very little I could do while the guards formed a path to the car. Once the door was opened I helped Y/N inside and climbed in behind her. She ripped the jacket off her head revealing her messy hair.

“Do I have to do that all the time?” She huffed trying to fix her hair.

“Maybe.” I smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Look, I’m going to shout from the rooftops I have a girl. The best girl. I’m taken as far as they’ll know, but I want to— I need to protect you from the craziness.”

“I see. I guess I understand that.”

“They’ll find out everything about you overnight. It’ll be front page news in the morning. True or not. Unfortunately, fabricated stories sell better, so that’s usually what they strive for.”

“Thank you for protecting me.” She adjusted laying her head in my lap looking up at me. “Just like when we were kids. You used to throw dirt at those kids to get them to leave us alone.”

“I may have to bring that move back.” I smiled at the memory. “And it serves them right, especially, that Antonio.”

“Here we go.”

“He had a crush on you and he would bug me endlessly because you were always with me. Then, he had the nerve to ask you to prom in high school. That- that fathead.”

“Fathead?” She laughed uncontrollably. It was music to my ears. “I said no! I went to prom with you.”

“I remember.”

“I like you better without this.” She sat up untying my face mask. “There he is.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“Good.”

“Dance with me.” I pulled Y/N on stage with me as the band practiced.

“This is very discreet.” She playfully rolled her eyes.

“I trust everyone here. Plus, they really like you. They like us.” I booped her nose making her smile.

“I was thinking about our date tonight. What if we move it to tomorrow afternoon? I mean you’re going to be exhausted after the show. I don’t want to keep you from getting rest.”

“No! No. I already have everything planned. It’s happening. Prepare to be swept off your feet.”

“Oh, Mr. Jackson is that smugness I hear?”

“Nope. It’s not smugness, it’s confidence!”

“Confidence. Is that so?”

“Yes, because I finally got the girl.”

The curtain closed behind me and I shrugged off my letterman jacket. As Karen touched up my makeup I looked over to find Y/N sitting off to the side. She was in deep conversation with my mother about god knows what. My mom smirked at me before making my stare known. Y/N winked blowing a few kisses my way. I instantly felt giddy. My face felt hot and I hoped no one else would notice.

“She’s a good one.” Karen whispered to me.

“She’s the one.” It slipped out and even though I meant it. It was a different feeling to say it out loud.

“I think so too.” She grinned clapping her hands. “Your mom and I kept wondering how long it was going to take you two. We almost put a bet together with Greg and the guys. I think it’s great. You deserve someone who makes you genuinely happy. Above all, she loved you before all this, she loves you in-spite of all this.”

“She did. She does.”

The drive back to the hotel was about an hour. I couldn’t stop fidgeting. Our first date was minutes away and I needed everything to be perfect.

“Katherine wants to have breakfast together.” Y/N spoke from beside me.

“I think I have some press stuff early, but after works. It’ll have to be a brunch.”

“I’ll let her know. She really wants to see us. She has many questions, but I thought it’d be more fun to leave you to answer them.”

“Yeah, she’s been planning our wedding since we were twelve.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not. One day, Jermaine was teasing me because I was too chicken to admit I liked you. He threatened to put the moves on you since I was too scared to do it. My mom lit him up. She threw a biscuit at his head.” I let out a deep belly laugh as I recalled that explosive family dinner. “She told him- well everyone that you were going to be her daughter-in-law one day, but he would not be your groom.”

“Wow.”

“It was the best day. I’ve never seen anyone put Jermaine in his place like that.”

“She’s the best.”

“She really is.”

We sat in the car looking out of the tinted windows. The crowds outside our hotel had multiplied, but were slightly more controlled since barricades were put up.

“Michael, there are so many people.” Y/N said in awe. “You should stay out for a bit. Aw, look!” There was a little girl holding up a sparkly pink poster that read ‘It’s my birthday! My only wish is a hug from Michael!’

“Alright, I’m going to have Bill escort you inside.” I leaned in kissing her. I could feel her lips curve up into a smile. Oh, her lips taste like candy. The kiss intensified as our hands began to roam each other’s bodies. Goodness, she’s so addicting. It ended as quickly as it began when a loud knock on the window startled us. I gave her one last look before stepping out of the car closing the door behind me. “Please get her inside safely. I won’t be long wait in the lobby.” I told Bill receiving a nod in return. “Thank you.”

“Hey there rockstar!” Y/N laughed as I entered the lobby. “Can I have an autograph too?” She pouted.

“You can have more than an autograph.” I teased as my arm found its place around her waist.

“You’re bad.” She closed her eyes as a blush painted over her face.

“You haven’t even seen the half of it.” We laughed loudly as other guests looked at us in confusion. “Let’s go before we get kicked out.”

“Michael, oh my goodness.”

“I went down to the shop, but I couldn’t decide they were all so beautiful.” I watched as she took small steps into our hotel room stopping to admire each flower arrangement. “I kind of just got all of them. They all have different meanings and each one reminded me of you.” She bent down touching the pedals of a white rose.

“Those mean eternal loyalty, love and new beginnings.”

“That’s fitting.” She smiled sniffing a light pink peony.

“Those mean love, honor and happiness.” Each step she took I was right behind her. The flowers lined the walls on both sides of us making the walkway very narrow, nonetheless, it was a stunning sight.

“Sunflowers mean positivity, strength and strong bonds. Red roses mean romance and passion. The white peony means-“ she twirled around cutting me off with a kiss.

“I can’t believe you did all of this.” She leaned into me. “It’s like my own private botanical garden.” She giggled hugging me tighter.

“The surprises have just begun my love.” I quickly lifted her off the ground throwing her over my shoulder and ran down the rest of the path.

“Don’t you dare drop me!”

“Let’s eat.” I placed her down and led her out onto the balcony. A candle lit dinner awaited us. I walked over to her chair pulling it out for her.

“How did you do all this?”

“I have my ways.”

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me. It’s beautiful.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

After we finished dinner we decided to relax outside and do some stargazing. There was the distant sound of the city, but it was peaceful.

“Y/N, I really wish you wouldn’t leave.”

“I can visit again in a few months.”

“Months?” I loudly blurted which startled her. “Sorry.” I avoided her eyes as I stood up walking inside. I didn’t realize how fast I was walking until I heard her voice from behind me.

“You can visit me too.”

“I’m busy. My calendar is booked months in advance. I barely have anytime for myself.”

“Okay.. so what do you have in mind?”

“Stay. Travel with me.”

“Michael, that sounds incredible it really does, but I have a job I can’t just disappear.”

“Quit.”

“I love my job.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“I do love you.”

“Then I don’t understand the issue.” I shook my head falling back onto the mattress. I wasn’t necessarily proud of what was coming out of my mouth, but it was too late to back down now. “Anything you want or need I can take care of. I’ll do everything, anything for you.”

“Michael.”

“Y/N.” I retorted a bit more childishly than I intended.

“I love you. I want to be with you, but I can’t agree to that. I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You deserve to have people in your life that are there for you and only you. People that want to be in your life to add to it not take. You have so much to offer from here.” She said placing her hand over my heart. “And here.” She ran her hand along the sides of my head, tucking some hair behind my ear and kissing me sweetly. “I’m yours and I’m in love with you beyond words. I’d do anything for you, absolutely anything, but I draw the line at living off of you. I will not exploit your kindness, generosity, talent or privacy. I will never use you for my own personal gain. I will not take advantage of you. I will never betray you. I will never hurt you.”

I stood still for a moment deep in thought. I wanted to object. I wanted to fight for her to stay, but after that speech how could I?

“I understand.” I sat up looking at the wall.

“You’re upset. Please don’t be upset.”

“I like when you’re here.” I said hastily surprising even myself. “I don’t like being alone.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.” She attempted to cuddle with me, but I moved away.

“You’re leaving in like two days.” I said, knowingly exaggerating her stay. She’ll be here with me for another few weeks, but it wasn’t enough.

“Michael, it feels like you want to fight with me.” She said sadly. “This transition from friendship to relationship is difficult enough as is. If you don’t communicate with me and tell me what you’re feeling then this is going to be… it’s not going to be good. Please don’t shut me out. I’ve waited for you my whole life.”

“I don’t want to do long distance.” I made it to my feet searching for what to say next. “I don’t want to go months without seeing each other. We’ve done it before, but that was different. We weren’t dating. I had no right complaining about how much I missed you then. I know you’ve worked hard to get where you are now. I’m so proud of you. I just- I want to know what’s going to happen in the future- our future- because I want that- a future with you- what happens when we get married or have kids? Or have kids then get married I mean either order is fine with me as long as I’m with you. It’s really up to you I mean especially the kids part-it’s your body. And then how many kids? I love kids- oh I’d love to have a big family but if we want a big family we should probably start sooner rather than later. I think we’d have beautiful babies, especially if they take after their mother. I mean I don’t know do we want them back to back? I don’t mind either way. And then what kind of house do you want? Where do you want to live? Would you continue to work? Would you quit? What would we name them? I like Prince for a boy- you know like my grandfather. Unless you hate that. Would you be a stay at home mother? Do you have baby names in mind? Would you like Neverland as our home or should I start looking for a new place? I love Neverland, but we could just have it as a vacation home I guess. Can we have a trampoline at the new place? Wait! Do you want to take my last name? I’d love that! Mr. and Mrs. Jackson- so grown up of us- Would you want me to quit what I do? I mean I could be a stay at home dad. Or would you and the kids travel with me? I mean I’m not opposed to—”

“Michael. Honey breathe.” I felt her soft hands on my cheeks and the room stopped spinning instantly. “We can discuss all this if you’d like, but let’s breathe and slow down first.”

I pulled her into me and inhaled the lovely scent of her shampoo. I held onto her like my life depended on keeping her close. I feel myself relax as she ran her delicate fingers through my hair.

“I’m sorry.” I lowly spoke.

“Michael.” Her touch sent jolts throughout my body as she undid the buttons of my top. She looked into my eyes with an expression I’ve never seen before. Oh, I hope this isn’t the last time I see that expression. I could feel what was about to happen. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

“You’re beautiful.” I said into the kiss. My blue button down shirt fell to the ground as I felt her fingers fumbling with my belt. I gently held her hands in mine in attempt to slow things down.

“You’re perfect.” Y/N said as she left tender kisses down my neck. She knew exactly what I was thinking. I was afraid for her to see me- all of me- for the first time- our first time. Her hands slid down my chest to the hem of my white v-neck. I felt myself take in a sharp breath as she pulled it over my head leaving me bare. The pads of her fingers traced the uneven marks on my chest- beauty sprinkles as Y/N calls them- and once again I felt her lips against my skin. “You’re beautiful Michael.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes Michael?”

“Marry me.”

Hunnies!!

Part 4! 🙈

Oh my! This was a challenge. Hopefully I did Michael justice in this chapter. It was fun writing from his perspective.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

[awetistic-things]

hello! I believe im autistic but I don’t have a special interest. I don’t have any specific 1 thing that im completely passionate about. I mean, maybe psychology but isn’t that too broad? idk. I need to consult someone autistic themselves bc im a minor and I can’t get a therapist and probably can’t convince my parents to get me a diagnosis. my mother thinks I just have high anxiety and ocd. I definitely have dermatillamania though. here’s some of my symptoms:

Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across multiple contexts; I go nonverbal when I’m anxious/stressed/in a social situation where I’m being forced to talk to or interact w someone.

Restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities; i do really like sameness but I’m also super impulsive and love changing thing up that don’t have a lot of value to me. for example I would go on a trip to Chicago rn with my friends if I had the means and they wanted to but I’m not changing the way I write my notes or cleaning my room

I have a hard time understanding figurative language and kind of obsessively overanalyze most things that I don’t understand

maybe it’s a mix of me being weird, ocd, and high anxiety that’s been present for my entire life and that I also can’t pinpoint the reason for. or maybe I’m autistic. I know you can’t diagnose a stranger on the internet from a couple paragraphs and I’m sorry if this is too much info.

I’m staying anonymous for my safety but my pronouns are they/it!

hi!

okay, so for starters i'm just gonna share with you some of the articles that helped me essentially start me on my journey of "oh shit i'm autistic" and my own two cents for each statement you made

---------

social interaction:

What Is Social Interaction In Autism - AutismTalkClub.com

i personally relate to the "non-verbal" part of what you said. I tend to lose the ability to speak whenever i am overwhelmed due to environmental factors (senses being overstimulated), but there are many other reasons (sometimes due to masking)

being overwhelmed in social situations is really easy for me personally. mainly because of sesnory issues, masking, resisting the urge to stim, etc and this can set me off into having meltdowns among other things

--------

repetitive behaviors:

Restrictive and Repetitive Behavior | Kennedy Krieger Institute

having a schedule is really important to a lot of people on the spectrum, it can help create some calmness in constant chaos

but, sometimes (such as myself) it is nice to be spontaneous and just do random shit without planning or a schedule or anything

so although repetitive behaviors are an autistic thing, the flexibility can differ depending on the person (emphasize on its a *spectrum*)

---------

language misunderstandings:

Whose metaphor? Autism Spectrum Disorder and metaphorization (metnetscandinavia.com)

that metaphor doesn't necessarily make sense to me, but just in case it makes sense for you there it is

about overanalyzing i totally get that. something I've noticed is that autistic people tend to question "basic" rules and social hierarchies so becoming obsessed with asking "why?' questions is very relatable to say the least

i dont really struggle that much with more everyday metaphors and I love analogies, but once again its a spectrum and I still very much need tone tags to avoid misunderstandings between both parties

-------

the way i figured out i was autistic was through research, research, research. at first I thought that meant clinical studies and such but it also means learning from the community itself, so its cool that you thought to do that (I wish I thought of that immediately)

also about how you don't really have ONE thing for a special interest, that's something normal from what I've seen. you don't have to know everything about something to have it be a special interest. you don't have to have known about it for years or an extremely long period of time. its really an individual thing for how you view hyperfixations and sp.ins (special interests). so, if you think that psychology is a sp.in of yours, then its a sp.in. its really up to you

all the things i sent you arent to diagnose you, but involving yourself in the community, researching a lot, or calling yourself/self-diagnosining yourself as autistic is okay. its perfectly okay. i know you said that because of your age and your parents you arent able to get a diagnosis at this time, but don't let that stop you from finding out more (even if its not with a therapist or your parents) about autism and essentially about who you are

im always free to dm, so please reach out to me if you want to talk (doesn't have to be just about autism) :) /gen (also my discord server for autistic people is linked in my pinned post if you wanna check it out)

[writingonsaturn]

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol 

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

  --

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile. 

“Come on, that was funny.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.” 

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?” 

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.” 

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around. 

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year. 

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.” 

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right. 

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--” 

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.” 

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.” 

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?” 

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.” 

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.” 

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed. 

“What do you want?” 

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.” 

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking. 

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?” 

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.” 

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything. 

“What is it?” 

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?” 

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel. 

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.” 

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.” 

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--” 

“I’d feel more assured.” 

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.” 

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.” 

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label. 

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father. 

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings? 

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” 

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.” 

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow. 

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.” 

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.” 

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent? 

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.” 

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.” 

“Really?” 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek. 

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.” 

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.” 

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--” 

“I’m not wrong.” 

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?” 

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.” 

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.” 

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.” 

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.” 

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?” 

“I’m older than you.” 

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.” 

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.” 

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body. 

“Y/n?” 

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?” 

“You’re being quiet.” 

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.” 

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.” 

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.” 

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep. 

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him. 

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine. 

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words. 

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.” 

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.” 

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.” 

“Now you’re sure?” 

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.” 

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.” 

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.” 

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine. 

--

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up. 

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously. 

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare.  I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently. 

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

 My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me. 

“Y/n, I--” 

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.” 

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once. 

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?” 

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I  thought I had lost you.” 

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.” 

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand. 

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.” 

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.” 

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--” 

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” 

“If anything ever happened to y--” 

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?” 

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”  

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage. 

“Y/n?” 

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him. 

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?” 

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares. 

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?” 

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.” 

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--” 

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--” 

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.” 

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?” 

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.” 

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?” 

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.” 

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?” 

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.” 

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.” 

“I am not tired.” 

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.” 

“I can see it in yours too.” 

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.” 

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know. 

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest. 

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?” 

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.” 

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”  

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.” 

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight. 

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips. 

[writerforfun]

Writing advice: Show don't tell!

I'm coming in with this as a lot, a lot of writers seem to have a little trouble with this. And it's fine it really is, I had to work a lot to understand this myself. It was awful to read my old work when I did learn to describe well.

One of the best ways to improve your writing is to

SHOW DON'T TELL!

It's not easy, despite being such a common part of creative writing. Some find it difficult to start of even explaining it, or implementing it in their tales.

Well, let's see if we can change that!

Let's first look at what it means:

Show don't tell: is the use of excessive descriptive words that produce an image of what you wish to show.

Confusing? Hold up I'll explain. See the main point is to use detailed action and images to show what is going on in the story.

A great example being the famously said on the topic "Don't tell me the moon is shining show me the glint of light on broken glass"

Let's look at some examples:

Telling: When they embraced she could tell he had been smoking and was scared.

Showing: When she wrapped her slim arms around him, the stench of tobacco assaulted her nostrils, filling her nose up with the filthy air. She felt consumed by the substance. Dread rose in her body, completely throwing her in hopelessness.

Telling: It was late fall.

Showing: Red-orange decorated the path in front of him, colouring the road as he walked, crunching under his weight.

Do you understand what I mean?

Here are some effective tips to help you:

1. Use strong details to give a good image. Say your character is blind, don't tell us they are blind show us. Tell the reader they are blind, let them know from the way the character acts, how they feel for things, how do they know someone is in front of them. Show it all!

Maybe she uses a cane to walk or maybe she has a dog to help her, or maybe she has a guide to take her different place. 2. Create the setting Want to show a spooky and eerie setting?

Describe it. Speak about how fog, how thick is it? Temperature, is it cold or hot? How cold or hot is it? Are there cobwebs? Crows crying out in the distance. How is the character responding to it?

How are they feeling in the scene? Showing their impression is quite important as well. You want the reader to feel what the character is feeling and actually have the reader feel it too.

Do they feel calm or do they feel scared? How? Describe it in the best way possible.

3. Use dialogue.

Dialogue is the best way to show a character's personality rather than telling about it. Showing their interactions with others, with objects through dialogues is a really useful way of showing their personality, we can understand what they value, their relationships with others.

Say you have a character who gets annoyed easily. Someone might do something or interrupt them while doing something important and they might just yell out in frustration or huff and walk away.

Show that interaction with words and dialogues.

4. Use themes.

If you wish to know more about themes let me know.

For now, I'll give a little context on how to use it here.

The language and details you use show the theme of your story. It provides the theme in a really subtle way but it's there. A reader may not pick it up at first but over time it becomes clear. It also creates that overall thread throughout your entire book.

Takes this as an example:

From this, we can sense the theme is focused heavily on loneliness and craving for human connection. This is really prevalent throughout the entire book but it's done through showing not telling. So if the author was simply telling it you would just simply read it as the character was not lonely at all and she just needed a friend. Like a direct path to her thoughts but that's not what we want. Because at the end of the day, it's not interesting is it?

5.Don't label emotions Don't show emotions, especially if you're not sure whether you are showing or telling, look for actual emotional words. This is called emotive language. When you use words envoke strong emotions but describing those emotions.

Words such as happy, angry or sad are examples of telling. They tell the reader how the character feels not show.

Telling: John was depressed that day and he wanted to cry.

Show: John didn't feel well. Hos heart felt heavy, under great strain. He didn't feel joyful or motivated or enthusiastic. Instead, all he could feel was the suffocating hold of depression. The great urge to push open his eyes and let them rain. He truly wanted to cry.

Sometimes you need to ask yourself "How does this feel?" and then write how it feels.

So, when should you use TELL?

While summary narratives don't work well in stories, telling is needed at times. A great example is in the Novella Court of Frost and Starlight. Where a character spoke of her sexuality and it took 6 PAGES.

I'm not kidding, and those 6 PAGES were all on her sexuality.

Telling in this case would have been so much better.

Don't use show if there’s no value to the plot/tension/conflict/character arc by showing some mundane but necessary information, telling is preferable.

For instance, say you have to get your character to an important meeting and back before the real action happens. Maybe he has to get clearance from his superiors before he can lead a secret raid.

Rather than investing several pages showing every aspect of the trip from packing, dressing, getting a cab to the airport, going through security, boarding the plane, arriving at his destination—you quickly tell that this way:

Three days later, after a trip to Washington to get the operation sanctioned by his superiors, Casey packed his weapons and camo clothes and set out to recruit his crew.

Then you immediately return to showing mode, describing his visits to trusted compatriots and getting them on board.

Here is an other example:

Sorry, for the long post and thank you for reading.

[archived-kin]

petty ghost haunts their murderer but doesn’t actually do anything vengeful, more at eleven

note from kin: i don’t even know what this is myself to be honest but the simple way of putting it is that you were accidentally killed by one of satan’s fits of rage and now your ghost follows him around and messes with him at any given opportunity out of pettiness

basically i came up with the prompt ‘vengeful spirit is more of a slightly miffed and extremely petty spirit who doesn’t actually do much but inconvenience their hauntee, shenanigans ensue’ and ran with it

(as a heads up, reader is not mc in this situation, and this takes place before any of the exchange program stuff, so belphie’s not in the attic and solomon and the angels aren’t in the devildom)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, satan, beelzebub

pairing(s): satan/reader (though it isn’t particularly romantic since you’re, y’know, dead, so it’s more of a satan & reader)

warning(s): references to death, beel eats an entire rotisserie chicken

genre: crack (with a bit of fluff i guess???)

“For the last time, [Name], put the knife down.”

“Bite me, bitch-boy.”

Satan lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets down his mug of coffee, then reaches out and carefully pushes the floating butter knife pointed directly at his jugular back down onto the table. “I don’t know why you keep trying that. You do know it wouldn’t actually get through my skin even if you did manage to hit me, right?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” comes your disembodied voice from somewhere near the ceiling. You’ve probably decided to float up there to sulk like you always do after a failed attack.

“I’d prefer you didn’t think about it at all.”

A still-wet towel pulls itself from the rack on the wall and hits him square in the face. Satan gives an exasperated groan as it slides down his face and lands on the table with a soft splat.

“That’s what you get,” You sniff indignantly, finally materialising in front of him with a scowl. You’re floating upside down in a way that makes it look like you’re standing on the ceiling. “Buttface.”

“Come on, you can come up with better material than that,” Satan shakes his head, pushing back his chair and picking up the wet towel you’ve just flung at him to hang it back up again. “Where did all your creativity from yesterday go?”

“Six feet under with the remains of my body, probably,” you reply with a scowl. Then, as an afterthought, you add, “Confounded cheese wheel.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” He comments, mildly surprised. “Where’d you pick that up?”

“Made it up myself. Ha!” You bob past him and through the wall, most likely to go terrorise Mammon by making his lights flicker on and off again. “Guess my creativity isn’t as dead as I am after all.”

“You still haven’t gotten over that, I see.” He sighs.

Your head immediately pops back out of the wall and glares across the room at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been weeks now - months, even,” Satan explains carefully as he sits back down at the table, not wanting to aggravate you further. The last time he'd brought something like this up, he’d ended up making you so angry that you’d managed to become physically corporeal enough to fling him across the room. “I would have thought you’d have passed on by now, that’s all. Surely it doesn’t take this long for the gates to the Celestial Realm to open?”

You consider his words, apparently appeased by their logic. “...I guess. Maybe I’m not passing on because I can’t rest in peace yet, like the ghosts do in horror films.”

“They’re films, you can’t expect to apply what happens in them to reality,” Satan replies flatly. “Besides, even if that was the situation, you've met all the criteria to 'rest in peace’, haven't you?”

“Are you trying to tell me, the dead one here, what merits as ‘resting in peace’?” You counter, floating back through the wall so that your entire body is in the room again. “My murderer’s still walking about like he doesn’t dress in the entire green colour spectrum and think it’s a good idea. How am I supposed to rest in peace knowing that?”

Satan looks down at his outfit, a little offended. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s right with your clothes?” You shoot back, drifting over to him and passing a ghostly hand through his shoulder, apparently too lazy to muster up the energy to make your hand physical enough to touch him. “Look at it! Your blazer doesn’t even have lapels!”

“It isn’t a blazer.”

“Jacket, then.” You make a move as if to pinch at the fabric, but your fingers just pass right through it like a hot knife through butter. “It doesn’t even fit you. The sleeves are too short.”

Satan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to wear it if it didn’t fit me. Besides, why does it matter to you?”

“The demon I might be doomed to be attached to for the rest of my afterlife has the worst fashion sense in all three realms is the matter,” You sigh dramatically and float up to the ceiling again. “Why do you even wear rip-off jeans if you’re going to put a belt over it?”

“First of all, they aren’t rip-off jeans,” Satan tells you as you start idly making the kitchen light flicker. He should probably tell you to stop doing that whenever you get bored, but he’s gotten so used to it at this point that he can’t really be bothered to. “And, second of all, why does it matter if I’m wearing a belt on it?”

“Rip-off jeans are meant to be ripped off,” You explain with all the patience of a mother explaining something to a curious child, completely disregarding Satan’s first point. “Putting a belt on top of it kind makes that redundant.”

Satan thinks about it for a moment and begrudgingly comes to the conclusion that your statement is correct - not that it makes a difference to him. “...they’re still not rip-off jeans.”

“Think whatever you want to think, burro verde.”

“What?”

“It means green donkey in Spanish.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I took Spanish for, like, three years when I was in high school,” You shrug, and the light brightens and dims slightly with the movement of your shoulders, as if it’s shrugging with you. “Failed all the exams, but at least I got something worthwhile out of it.”

“Three years of linguistic lessons and all you learn is how to string together bizarre insults,” Satan shakes his head. “You really are incorrigible.”

“That’s a big word. You sure you know what it means?”

“Of course I do,” He gives you a slightly disgruntled look. “I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who doesn’t know what incorrigible means, obviously.” You pretend to aim a kick at the spider perched quietly in the corner of the ceiling, but Timothy ignores your efforts to boot him from his web. After a moment, growing tired of bothering the little guy, you ask, “...what does it mean?”

Satan snickers, then answers, sounding as if he’s reading the definition directly out of a dictionary, “In reference to a person or their behaviour, unable to be changed or reformed.”

You contemplate his words for a few seconds. “Is that a good thing?”

“Not usually when that particular word is used for it, no.”

“Oh. Bitch.”

He pauses at that, moving his mug of now marginally cooler coffee away from his mouth again, having been in the middle of taking another sip when you decided to insult him again. “Where did that come from?”

“You called me incorrigible, which you just said is not a good thing to be,” You explain as if it’s obvious, frowning down at him. “So I’m taking it as an insult and insulting you back. Bitch.”

“You didn’t have to say it again.”

“I didn’t, but it’s fun to call you names.” You snort and glide down from the ceiling to float above the table, crossing your legs and pretending to sit down on it. “It’s not as fun as it used to be, though. You never get all puffed up about it anymore.”

“That’s your own fault for doing it so much that I got used to it,” Satan reproaches. “Besides, it was pointless getting angry. It’s not like I can do anything to you in return.”

“You could ignore me and pretend I don’t exist or something.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“No!” You hurriedly throw up your hands in a gesture of surrender and shake your head so hard that Satan swears he actually feels a breeze - an even more impressive achievement considering that your body isn’t even tangible. “Please don’t. You’re the only being in the entire universe that I can actually interact with.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing,” Satan mutters.

“It’s a good thing for me, and that’s all that matters,” You reply, unfazed.

No one other than Satan appears to have the ability to see you, which is an odd thing in and of itself. Ghosts aren’t a foreign thing to the Devildom - they’re so common that you could probably just walk into a convenience store and find one shelving cans of soup - but you don’t seem to follow any of the rules that they do. Sometimes Satan wonders if you’re able to actively choose to not allow his brothers to see you as you drift around the house, but then again, he’s pretty sure that, if you had the option to make Lucifer watch you pretend to fist fight that weird skeleton hanging in his room, you definitely would.

Satan doesn’t pretend to understand the laws of your otherworldly existence - he’s read so many variations on the rules behind lingering spirits like you that he can scarcely tell the difference between pure fiction and actual logical hypothesis. It’s easy enough to wrangle you into behaving for a day so that he can observe you properly by promising to leave his radio on for you while he’s out, but the observations themselves never seem to lead to anything. He knows that you’re able to pass through any physical object (as far as he knows), can make lights (of both the electronic and candle variety) flicker at will, can muster up enough physicality to move and touch things if you try, and can phase in and out of perceivable view, but he doesn’t know why you can do any of those things.

“Quit trying to come up with explanations for everything,” You’d told him wisely a month or so ago, when you’d floated in on him muttering to himself about the possibility of something called ‘ether energy’. “You’re just gonna give yourself a headache.”

Then you’d started making his candles flicker like disco lights until he stopped.

“...but I don’t think he spotted me, since he probably would’ve commented on the floating meat cleaver if he did, and— hey, big guy!”

That last exclamation is aimed at Beel, who has just walked into the kitchen and is now rummaging unceremoniously through the fridge, most likely in search of something to eat. At this point Satan’s pretty sure that you still don’t know any of his brothers’ names - at the very least, even if you do, you’ve never called them by them.

Beel continues to sort through the various already empty boxes and containers in the fridge as you start zooming back and forth through him, marvelling over the sheer broadness of his chest and shoulders. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this to him - or indeed any of the brothers - but Satan can tell that it’s more innocent awe than any kind of objectification or intent to harm, so he doesn’t mind. As mischievous as you are, he’s pretty sure you don’t have a genuinely malicious or wanton bone in your body... well, you don’t have any bones anymore - or a body, for that matter - but the point still stands.

“Hungry?” He guesses, but it’s honestly more of a statement. It is Beel, after all.

The Avatar of Gluttony withdraws from his search briefly to offer a nod. “I didn’t get to finish all of my lunch.”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” You comment as Beel sticks his head back into the fridge, finally tiring of buffeting yourself back and forth like a pendulum and choosing to start hovering just over the second youngest’s shoulders to watch his hunt. “Wonder what he was up to that got him to stop eating.”

Satan opens his mouth to reply, then stops and closes it again. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Beel with the not-really-a-secret of your existence, but he’s sure that at some point or another, Beel will end up letting it slip to Lucifer, who would most likely want to know why your death ended up attaching your spirit to his brother, and Satan’s already gone to great lengths to make sure that the oldest won’t find out about the rampage he went on that cost you your life in the first place. It'd just be a waste of that effort for Lucifer to find out anyway. Besides, it isn’t like the information will make much difference to Beel - he can’t see or hear you, and you’re pretty harmless, so there wouldn’t be any need for him to get involved in the situation anyway.

You, meanwhile, are well aware that Satan isn’t going to be saying anything to you while one of his brothers is in the room - you don’t really understand his reasoning for it, since you like to think that you’re a pleasure of a ghost to know, but you suppose you can’t really force him to make any decisions. Besides, you’re pretty content with the way things are right now; you don’t want to complicate the situation by bringing in another demon who, as far as you know, might just smite you on the spot if they find out about your existence.

Instead, you busy yourself with watching in fascination as Beel somehow pulls what looks like a rotisserie chicken from the very back of the fridge and shove the whole thing in this mouth. You exchange slightly disturbed looks with Satan as he begins to chew - you’re pretty sure you’ve just seen him dislocate his jaw like a snake to fit it in there.

“You might want to calm down, Beel,” Satan advises after a brief moment’s stunned silence, though even he knows that it’s a fruitless warning. “You’ll end up choking.”

Beel nods, but makes absolutely no move to slow in his aggressive chewing.

“This must be what the peak of evolution looks like,” You say in bemused awe as Beel finishes eating. The entire chicken has disappeared down his throat - bones and all. “How the hell does he manage that?”

Satan doesn’t answer, but his subtle shrug says that your guess is as good as his.

Much to your surprise and Satan’s resignation, Beel immediately goes back to the fridge, apparently unsatisfied by the copious amount of fowl he’s just eaten. To be honest, you feel sorry for the guy - while the you from when you’d still been able to eat would have done some unspeakable things to be able to consume as much as he does and still remain that fit, you’re sure that the black hole he calls a stomach must be an awful thing to have to deal with. At least he gets to enjoy a lot of food because of it, though you suppose it’s a double-edged sword if he’s also constantly being scolded for it. Personally, you don’t understand the reasoning behind telling someone off for eating as much food as they need, but they are demons. You probably shouldn’t expect them to have that level of compassion.

By the time you break out of your train of thought, Beel has found something else to eat amidst the many empty boxes in the fridge. It’s much smaller than the rotisserie chicken - some kind of pastry with a dollop of snowy white cream on top, decorated with a few lines of melted chocolate to look like a cat’s face. In fact, it looks almost identical to…

“Hey, wait!” You swipe a useless hand through Beel’s arm as he raises the pastry to his mouth. “Don’t eat that—!”

Too late. The pastry disappears into Beel’s mouth, and you drift backwards again, letting out a defeated groan. Satan shoots you a curious look - you can’t eat, after all, so why are you so upset about Beel eating that pastry? Is there something special about it?

His question is answered when he actually turns to look at his younger brother. The Avatar of Gluttony has gone rigid on the spot and is blinking rapidly, his eyes the size of moons.

“Beel…?” Satan questions hesitantly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Beel takes a long moment to respond, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Satan takes a closer look and realises that Beel’s pupils seem to have dilated to an almost impossible degree, resembling a cat’s eyes when it’s about to go absolutely feral. Whatever it is was in that pastry, it’s definitely hit him hard.

Now, Satan isn’t one to interrupt good fun when it’s about to happen, so instead of stepping in and performing some sort of spell that might help on his possibly-high brother like a good guy, he sits back and watches as Beel’s head swings around the room as if he's never seen anything in it before like the mischief-loving little shit he is. Beel himself doesn’t appear to be negatively affected, so it can’t be that bad, right?

You float cautiously around the giant as his hands ball into fists. His entire body is trembling slightly with pent-up energy. Then, a split second later, as if he’s been zapped by some catalystic bolt of lightning, he abruptly snaps back on his heel and positively zooms out of the room. You can practically see the cartoony cloud of dust that he’s kicking up as he disappears down the corridor.

“He’s absolutely zooted right now,” You comment, flipping upside with a resigned sigh and crossing your arms a little grumpily. “I told him not to eat it.”

“He couldn’t hear you, you know,” Satan says, moving over to the fridge and slamming it shut, since Beel has neglected to. “What was even in that thing?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve just been calling it demon-nip.”

“I suppose that it does to demons what catnip does to cats, then?” Satan doesn’t even wait for you to answer before continuing - rude. “How did you even get a hold of it? Never mind that, how did you manage to get it in a pastry and put it in the fridge?”

“I got some help from one of the poltergeists downtown to make it,” You wave your hands about dismissively. “You should pay more attention when you go out. I disappeared for, like, five hours, and you didn’t even notice.”

“When even was this?”

“Tuesday, I think. Remember when you bought that giant bag of cat paw-shaped biscuits and then accidentally dropped the bag in the hall and got them everywhere?”

You don’t miss the way that the tips of his ears go slightly pink as he coughs subtly and averts his gaze. “...why would the poltergeists help you? They hate humans.”

“I don’t know, actually…” You ponder for a moment, then decide, “...probably because I’m cute.”

“Are you?” Satan deadpans. “Cute is what you’d call a cat. You’re just… tolerable.”

“Oh, fuck you, I think I’m adorable.” You huff, flying over and poking him hard in the side of the head. Satan hisses in pain and reaches up to rub the sore spot, but he supposes he should have seen that blow coming - you’re never too humble to make yourself physical enough to hit him after an insult.

“Where did that idea even come from?” He asks quickly, not wanting to take another attack. You may be a mere imprint of a dead human, but your fingers are sharp, and he’d prefer not to provoke you further if he can avoid it.

His change of subject is so abrupt and obvious that it’s almost laughable, but you choose not to call him out on it. As much as you’d like to set him on fire or something, he hasn’t given you a really good reason to commit arson yet, and you’d just end up feeling bad for doing it. Well, to be fair, he did kill you… but still, you don’t want to keep holding that over his head.

“I read it in a book.” You answer. Satan’s eyes light up slightly.

“Do you remember the title?” He asks almost eagerly, and you disguise a snicker. His intentions are practically painted in bright red paint across his face - he’s hoping that there’ll be more schemes like the one you’ve performed that he can use against that sadist of an older brother of his.

Unfortunately for him, the book doesn’t exist. “Yeah. It’s called One Hundred Ways To Get Back At The Ass That Killed You, Free Of Murder and Actual Crimes That Might Get You Persecuted And Sent To Super Hell.”

Satan clearly isn’t thinking very hard today, because for a moment he actually looks as if he believes you - you suppose it’s because he’s grown desensitised to the oddness of such long titles after hearing so many weirdly specific anime titles from the otaku brother that you still have yet to see come out of his room. (You’ve floated in a few times to have a look around and appreciate the decor, but other than that, you’ve barely even seen his face. You’re not even sure what his name is, to be honest…)

He realises what you’re getting at after a moment, though, and immediately frowns at you in disapproval. You just grin, pleased with your small victory.

“You're insufferable,” He says, shaking his head with an long sigh.

“No, I'm cute,” You counter, frowning. “Weren't you listening to me earlier?”

He throws his hands up hastily as you drift forward with a hand brandished and a nasty glint in your eye, unwilling to get jabbed at again. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

You, however, don't relent. Eyes narrowing, you float even closer - so close that, if you'd been physical, he’d have been able to feel your breath on his face. “Say it.”

Satan may be one of the seven most powerful demons in the Devildom (below Diavolo, of course, and possibly Barbatos), but the aggression of a pissed-off ghost, especially if that ghost is you, isn't anything he wants to be on the receiving end of right now. “Fine, fine! You're adorable, you're cute, whatever. Now will you leave me alone?”

You finally pull back, beaming in a gratified fashion. “That's all I wanted to hear!”

Satan gives you an irritated look as you drift back across the kitchen, a satisfied grin on your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that already,” You sing back, laughing in victory when you see his eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. “And you had the nerve to lecture me about creativity earlier! Why don’t you come up with better material, Mr Shoes-Up-My-Ass?”

He doesn’t reply for a good moment, attempting to think of a insult to counter your admittedly slightly juvenile one. Try as he might, though, all of his good jibes seem to have evaporated. “...shut up.”

His pathetic response, of course, immediately compels you to take the piss out of him. Clutching your chest dramatically, as if Satan’s just stabbed you with the knife you’d been waving about earlier, you wail, “Oh, thy words do wound me! 'Tis like thou hath rip’d my heart out with thy own hands!”

Satan glares you for a long moment, but he doesn’t have the heart to keep it up when you’re grinning so brightly. Honestly, you’re a nuisance and a brat sometimes, sure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider you his closest friend at this point. “...do you even know how to use those words?”

You drop the act faster than Asmo throws it down on a Saturday night, shrugging and floating back over to hover just above the chair across from Satan’s. “Nope. It sounded right, though, right?”

“I haven’t read enough works in Old English to know,” Satan admits with a shake of his head. “But it did, I suppose…”

It’s kind of weird that he’s agreeing so easily, you think. Has he just had enough of your bullshit and is complying with to keep you quiet? Or has he just finally seen the light of your brilliance?

...well, you suppose it doesn’t matter. You grin and move to ruffle his hair, but forget to make your hand physical and instead end up flying right through his head. Satan shudders slightly - though he doesn’t feel it, it’s still weird to have an entire hand and arm go through his cranium.

“Could you not?” He complains as you right yourself and pull your hand back again. “This feels weird.”

“Baby.”

“Pet names aren’t going to do anything,” He sighs, pulling his chair to the side so that he’s no longer half-inside your torso. “Hands to yourself.”

“No, it was an insult,” You correct him. “I was calling you a baby. Though bitch-boy works too.”

Satan lets out a long sigh. Now you’re just back where you started.

[soundsgoodfeelslikeshit]

Brother Knows Best

Anonymous said: 

would you be willing to write a john b twin one where his sister is just super rebellious and has completely changed who she was and he’s worried? just super protective 

Summary: Everyone knew that you were this innocent little girl. You rarely drank, and you almost never smoked or did any kind of drug. That was until Big John went missing. It started your year of spiraling and none of your friends, or even your brother knew how to help you. 

“Just one more drink,” You friend called from beside the gas station you were all sat at. 

“One more drink always turns into too many.” You said with a laugh. 

“Well that’s the fun in it,” She said handing you another beer. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You said taking a large gulp of the beverage.  

A few hours later you were so gone you were seeing multiples of everything you looked at. You never liked to drink, let alone get crossfaded but here you were off your ass. 

“I should probably be going,” You slurred to your friends who just waved a goodbye. 

You started your walk home, but you could barely even stand straight, It was dark and you were sure if you just laid in the grass on the side of the road you’d be alright for the night. You decided that was your best bet and you plopped down into the grass, falling asleep to the feeling of your head spinning in circles. 

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

When you woke up you had no recollection of any of the events from the night prior. You felt intoxicated still though, so you were sure you had been drinking. 

“Glad to see you made it home.” John B said sarcastically. 

“Fuck off, JB.” You said, pushing yourself off the couch with a groan. 

“No, you know we had to pull you out of a ditch on the side of the road at 2am last night? How inconsiderate and irresponsible can you be?” John B asked, raising his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m the irresponsible one.” You said with a laugh. 

“What if some random person came and took you, played a little game of cut the girl up and then threw your body else where?” 

“Well then maybe I’d feel better than I do now. Why do you care all of a sudden? You left me to deal with my emotions all by myself for months after dad - dad disappeared. You shut everyone out and when I finally find a way to cope you suddenly don’t want me to “go down that path”. Fuck off John B, don’t act like you fucking care now.” You said, pushing past him and towards the bathroom. 

“That’s not fair. I didn’t shut everyone out, I just kept to myself.” 

“In case you didn’t notice that’s the same thing.” You ended the conversation by slamming the bathroom door. 

Unbeknownst to you, your friends had been sitting on the porch listening to your argument. Entirely siding with John B, they just wanted their friend back who was sweet and kind, and didn’t do self-destructive things. 

After taking a long shower, you got out and started getting ready for another party that you were going to. You pulled on black cutoff shorts with a cropped crotchet tank top. Throwing on a minimal amount of makeup you shrugged and then let your hair air dry into its natural curls. 

“Where you going?” Kie asked curiously as you stepped out of the bathrom and walked into the living room. 

“Party with some friends.” 

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to go out again, you still look hungover.” John B said. 

“That’s the fun, big brother.” You said with a shrug. 

“It’s fun until you get addicted,” JJ said softly, looking at you carefully. 

“I’ll deal with that when we get there.” 

“I was hoping you’d stay in tonight we have a few things we wanted to go over for restorations of the HMS.” Pope said with a smile. 

“I’ll be back later, we can talk then. They’re expecting me. Speaking of which I gotta go.” You said, checking the time on your phone and then shoving it back into your pocket. 

John B put his head in his hands as he watched you walk out of the Chateau and get in your car. 

John B’s POV 

“I just don’t know what to do anymore. Like I get the urge to party and relax, but she’s turning to drugs and ending up in ditches. I don’t want to have to tell someone my underaged sister needs help with addiction, but that’s where it’s heading.” 

“I get it man, addiction is hard to watch. We’ve tried to warn her, maybe she just needs a heart to heart from you. No bullshit yelling, and blaming each other. You just need to talk it out and go from there.” JJ said. 

I nodded my head and picked up the beer I had been drinking. 

“Why don’t we just have a fire and relax a little bit?” Kie asked, sensing the tension I was radiating. 

“Yeah, I liked that idea.” Pope said with a smile. 

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

About an hour into the fire I heard my phone ring. I raised an eyebrow and then moved to pick it up. “Y/N” being written out across the screen. I picked up and instantly heard crying and was concerned. 

“Y/N, hey calm down what’s wrong,” I asked getting up quickly. 

“Please-please come ge-get me,” she sobbed into the phone. 

“Where are you at?” I asked, worriedly. 

“Amelia’s house, ju-just down th-the stree-et from a gas station.” 

“I’ll be there in a second, what happened?” I questioned as I grabbed my keys and got in the van. 

“I-I’ll see you when you get he-here.” She hiccupped before hanging up. 

“Where are you going?” Pope asked. 

“Getting Y/N, she called crying.” I said, watching as worried expressions flashed over my friend’s faces. 

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

Y/N’s POV 

I sat under a tree, shaking. Everything had gone too far tonight, too much alcohol, too many people, too many questions about everything. I felt myself spiraling and I was terrified. 

“Hey, you okay?” John B’s voice sounded out. 

My eyes met his, and instantly his face was covered in worry. 

“I just wan-wanna go home.” 

He nodded and helped me stand. Wrapping his arm securely around my shoulder, he led me to the van where I could see all of our friends staring at me worriedly. 

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

The next morning I woke up, tucked in my brother’s arms. I looked up to see John B staring down at me. 

“Can we talk about what happened last night?” He asked carefully. 

I nodded my head and sat up. 

“I went into that party so ready to just be carefree. There were guys offering to get me drinks, I was dancing with everyone, and people were wanting to hookup. I didn’t mind anything, but then there was questions about how I was doing and how I was coping with everything. It was like a big slap in the face, I realized I never dealt with anything. Everything was just being buried with all of the parties I was going to. I started feeling myself spiral so I called. I realized you were right and I shouldn’t be coping this way.” You said with a sigh. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, but I’m glad you concluded your actions were irresponsible and that they’re the wrong way to cope. I was so worried about you, all of us were. You slowly stopped being the responsible friend who took care of everyone, never drinking to being this completely different person. You slowly stopped caring about your well-being and completely changed who you were. I just wanted my sister back.” John B said, tears welling in his eyes. 

You breathed out a sigh as tears fell onto your cheeks and you embraced your brother. You knew it was going to be a long road to becoming the girl you were before, but you were sure with the help of your brother and your friends you could do it. 

[brother-hermes]

GOYIM AND KABBALAH

Look. This is going to be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever tried to explain because my very being- my opus- is involved.

As I sit under the light of the full moon, back to the tree in my front yard, the very pulse of earth is moving within me. I am accutely aware of which trees have sprung from the seeds planted by the parent tree at my back. The night is still and yet it’s teeming with life. It is Ru’ahh- the breath of G-d I feel moving through all things but how did this happen? At what point did I become aware of Her presence and abandon all else on my journey? Where is the line between Christian and Jew in my mind? At what point did I cease to be Catholic?

The library unearthed at Nag Hammadi completely changed my perspective on the life and message of Christ. His own promise of the gift of Ru’ahh HakoDesh sent me within. After all, didn’t He urge us to sit in a closet and pray? Then a Rosicrucian text written in 1923 quoted the Gospel of Peace 30 years before its “discovery.”

Years of meditation- constant recital of the 72 triplets- later and The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz was given to me. A Frater from my order handed me his personal copy full of annotations and footnotes. This seemingly simple doctrine follows a similar pattern of the one found in the Apocalypse of John, what Christians know as Revelations. In it he speaks of communing with Sophia- Solomons Woman Wisdom. This mystical experience is one I recognized instantly having long since meditated in Her presence. I sought Her like silver just as Solomon suggested and found Her within.

Anyways, as I read of Christian Rosenkreutz taking this spiritual journey I couldn’t help but notice how blended the Rosicrucian path actually is. Here is a doctrine where the spiritual journey is divided into a seven day journey-referencing Genesis- to attend a Wedding on an evening before Easter- referencing, not only the Gospels, but the Wedding at Cana as well. It’s Alchemical in nature urging us to remember Hermès teachings and alludes to Platos Cave- the metaphysics behind Greek philosophy. He cuts the bread. That only happens in 9 books of the New Testament. There are also 9 Lords in attendance at this Wedding.

Genesis is tied into the story as a way to connect the dots between these seemingly different paths- all of which lead to One. “G-d said” appears 10 times. “G-d made” appears 3 times. “G-d saw” appears 7 times. The word G-d is used 12 times. 10 sefirot. 3 horizontal paths. 7 vertical paths. 12 diagonal paths. This is the Tree of Life. It serves as the basic framework for how Christian Rosenkreutz made it to this Castle- what I understand as a mountain Temple- to commune with the Creator.

There are Four Paths mentioned that one can take to achieve this goal. Couple that with several references meant to imply a connection between the Emerald Tablet and the Tree of Life and it’s no wonder I set out to understand why. Why would a Christian mystic explain how movement from Yesod, Hod, and Netzach moving from below to above correlates to the three step process of the Emerald Tablet? I mean, even the first day of Rosenkreutz journey ends painting the 4 step descent, 3 step ascent, and the one step re-descent. Why? What do the Emerald Tablet and Kabbalah have to do with what Christ taught? The question drove me mad.

The Wedding at Cana was the first of 7 miracles to be taken as signs of the Messiah. Specifically, the lawful Union of man and woman- or the reconciliation of polarity. The same polarity reconciled after 6 days of Creation through use of duality described in Genesis. It’s an allegory. Christ was teaching us how to reconcile our seemingly dualistic nature. The changing of water into wine implies the integration of our vehicles of consciousness- body and mind, waking mind and Spirit.

Even the number of disciplines outlined by Rosenkreutz isn’t merely a play on the 12 disciples. It’s 12 disciplines in three groups of four. Emanation, Creation, Formation, and Action. There’s no getting around going from below to above requires merkava- vehicles of consciousness. At the level of Assiah/Action, it’s easy to see this vehicle because we touch, taste, see, smell and hear with it, but as we move beyond that it gets decidedly more difficult. When we approach Atzilut/Emanation where we have no vehicle of consciousness because we are consciousness, what then? Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh. That same “I am” that manifests in the first word of the 10 commandments is the Divine expressing itself in the metaphor of Creature. That was Sophia/Chochmah manifesting within. Years of meditating at the Temple within my heart had taught me to trust the breath of G-d beyond anything else.

There was no escaping this truth. Prayer. Meditation. Study. Living a simple life. All of these disciplines had moved me to a place where I needed guidance. The Hermeticists of my order had much more in common with the Sorcerers of Kemet- Biblical Egyptians- than they did with those faithful to the Law. What could the descendants of Isis cults who genuinely believe we can reach the point of being gods teach me about ascending to the throne room of the one true G-d? Nothing.

Now I never abandoned Christ in all this. Even as I dove into deep meditative periods with heavy study almost never touching the Bible- Christian Rosenkreutz bridegroom I was still aware of how Christ is involved. See, if Chochmah/Wisdom is waves of energy, Binah/Understanding is form. With Christ as my template- the One manifested in the World of Formation- I chose to live in love. To be “the light that shone in the darkness.” But what Church would understand this journey? What Christian could hear this tale and not label me a heretic? Aside from one Anglican priest I had been completely isolated from the entire realm of Christianity.

So I did the only thing I could do. I turned to the source of this Ancient Mystery and joined a Kabbalah study group. I am a Gentile amidst the Chosen seeking Wisdom above all. Am I treated differently within the confines of said group? No. I came to this path after decades of prayer and meditation and it is doubtful this is the first lifetime I have spent in such a manner. I didn’t wake up yesterday and say “let me jack this culture and make it my own.” They know that because mystics are measured on what’s within more than they’ll ever be measured by appearance, race, or…

Trust and believe that every post I write comes from a place of love and I never intended to hurt or offend anyone. Mysticism had never been a game or a fad to me. This life cycle is one of dedication and servitude to G-d and humanity. That is the fulfillment of the Law- to love G-d with all of my mind and soul and to love my neighbor as I love myself. Humility may not always be my strong suit but my approachability runs high. You can always reach out to me with questions and ask why or how. Even in the mix of frustration I will gladly address anyone with the respect and dignity I would like to receive. Hehe. To receive.

That’s all I got.

[mooniefics]

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

[storiesforallfandoms]

first show ~ aaron tveit

word count: 1756

request?: yes!

“I'll take anything Aaron Tveit. (There are not enough fics out there lol)”

description: after years of practice and studying, she gets casted in her first big broadway show, and finds herself falling for her leading man

pairing: aaron tveit x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

I gasped as the costume person pulled out the beautiful black dress I was meant to wear for our run through of Come What May. I couldn’t get over how beautiful my costumes were. I almost felt like I was undeserving of them. I was fresh out of college and already cast in my first big Broadway musical. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to ever wake up.

“You don’t have long to get dressed,” the costume person reminded me. “The dress rehearsal for Come What May is in 10. Although I’d love to see you staring at all your costumes in amazement.”

“I’ll do that after dress rehearsal,” I joked.

I took the black dress and quickly changed into it, longing to look at myself in the mirror but knowing I had no time. With my hair and makeup already finished, I rushed to the stage. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one running a bit late as my co-star was yet to arrive once I took my place.

“There’s our Satine!” the director proclaimed as I stood on stage. “Welcome to the stage, dear. How do you feel?”

“Nervous,” I admitted. “But I look damn good for a nervous girl.”

The director chuckled. “Our Christian should be here soon.”

“He’s here!”

I tried not to seem as starstruck as I felt at the sound of my co-star’s voice. Aaron joined me on stage, dressed in his Christian costume. I had to try my best not to fangirl over him. He was basically Broadway royalty, and I was acting with him in my first show! I had to remind myself how to breathe.

I smiled slightly at him. “Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N). I’m Aaron.”

I had to stop myself from responded with I know as I shook his hand.

“While I’d love for you two to get to know one another, I’d like to run Come What May first,” the director told us. “It’s one of the biggest songs in the musical, and the one with the most chemistry. So, we need to nail this song before we can nail the entire musical.”

Aaron and I nodded and took our places for the song. The band started playing the song and I felt my nerves growing. I tried to focus just on Aaron, but that made me even more nervous.

“Never knew I could feel like this Like I’ve never seen the sky before Want to vanish inside your kiss Every day I love you more and more”

No shock that his voice sounded perfect. I already knew this, I had seen the show on its opening night years before. But it was different to hear the voice up close, too have him singing directly to me. It made my heart flutter and I almost forgot my cues.

“Come what may Come what may I will love you until my dying day”

For a moment I feared my voice wouldn’t work, but when I opened my mouth the words came out effortlessly.

“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace”

I tried not to break character as pride swelled within me at the look on Aaron’s face. I could only describe it as a look of astonishment, as if my voice shocked him, and that made me so proud.

My heart spiked as Aaron took my hands and we sang together

“Storm clouds my gather And stars may collide But I love you (I love you) Until the end of time”

The music swelled as we reached the end of the song, our voices mixing together perfectly as we held the last line. I looked into Aaron’s perfectly blue eyes, glad that the song had ended because he had taken my breath away.

I had forgotten all about the small audience of crew members and our director until he spoke. “That was great! But can we take it from that last chorus and can you guys end the song with the kiss?”

“O-Oh,” I stuttered, still trying to recover from the song. “Y-You want to do the kiss now?”

“It’s better to get the first one out of the way now to get past any initial awkwardness.”

“Are you okay with that?” Aaron asked me, concern on his face.

I nodded. “Yeah. He has a point, we will be kissing almost every night. We should get used to it now.”

The director motioned to the band and they began playing from the last chorus again.

“Come what may Come what may I will love you until my dying day”

I looked into Aaron’s eyes, the only thing keeping me calm in that moment. One of his hands reached up to gently cup my face, bringing me closer to him. The distance between us was small, but it felt like I was waiting for his lips to touch mine forever.

When they finally did, it felt as though something had exploded inside of me. My whole body felt warm and fuzzy, and my stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. I couldn’t stop myself from putting a hand behind his neck, wanting to keep his lips on mine for a long time.

We were forced to pull away when the director began to clap, completely taking us out of the moment.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaimed. “That was brilliant! See? Now there’ll be no awkwardness when we run that scene from now on.”

I wouldn’t say that, I thought, glancing over at Aaron. I wondered if he had felt what I did, or if it was just another stage kiss for him. If he felt the latter, it would definitely be very awkward for me.

“Okay, you two take five and then (Y/N), I want you ready for your entrance medley.”

The crew continued on about their work while the director turned his attention to his assistant and began talking about the technical stuff having to do with the show. Aaron and I awkwardly stood on stage together for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“I guess I should go get ready for my entrance rehearsal,” I said, trying my best to look at Aaron. How the hell did two actors who weren’t already in relationships kiss on stage and not fall in love?

“I’ll walk you to your dressing room,” Aaron offered. “We can get to know one another.”

I smiled at this and the two of us exited the stage together.

“So,” Aaron started, “there’s a rumor on the streets that this is your first ever show.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is. I’m actually not long out of college. I graduated maybe a month ago? Top of my classes because I was always an overachiever, and most of my teacher’s favorites. Actually, it was one of my teachers that got me this audition. She knows the director and when it was announced that Karen Olivo was leaving the show, she urged me to audition.”

“Looks like it worked out in your favor.”

“Yeah, somehow,” I said with a slight laugh. “I’m sure there were dozens of better, more experienced girls who auditioned. My teacher must’ve slipped the director a bribe or something to get me this role.”

“Or, and hear me out on this one, you were actually that good and got the role on your own.”

I shook my head. “No way. That’s nearly impossible.”

“Nearly being the keyword. Newbies gotta start somehow or else Broadway shows would never have a cast.”

“Yeah, but most newbies start as a part of the ensemble or the company, then make their way to very minor character, then less than minor character, and then, if they’re lucky, they become main characters. It’s not as easy as auditioning fresh out of school and getting the role right away.”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s that easy for some people. You have a fantastic voice, definitely a voice worth of a Satine and not just an ensemble girl.”

I smiled up at Aaron. “I appreciate the compliment, and the confidence you have in me. I hope I don’t let any of you guys down.”

“I don’t think you will. I think you’re going to be amazing. You’ll probably steal the show from me.”

I laughed at this. There was absolutely no way that I, a newbie, could possibly steal the show from a Broadway vet like Aaron Tveit.

I was sad when we reached my dressing room, although I knew it wasn’t that far of a walk from the stage. I wanted to talk to Aaron for longer, to have more time alone with him. But we were trying to prepare a show, and that meant that eventually I had to give up my time with him in order to rehearse.

Both of us paused outside of my dressing room. It was almost like we were waiting for the other to leave first. I glanced at the clock in my dressing room and sighed upon seeing the time.

“I have about two more minutes to get into my costume for my entrance medley and to get back to the stage. So, I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

“Well, only for now. I’ll be in the audience watching you absolutely destroy that medley, and then we have basically the entire play together that we have to rehearse,” he told me. “But, if you’re not too tired after rehearsal, I’d love to maybe go out and grab a drink with you. If you’d be interested in doing that, that is.”

Now was when my voice stopped working. I could barley believe that this was actually happening. Too many amazing things going on the one time, I was sure I was dreaming. I had to slip my hands behind my back to pinch myself, and I had to suppress a yelp as I realized I was very much awake.

“Yeah,” I finally managed. “I’d love to.”

Aaron’s smile was as wide as a child on Christmas morning. “Okay! Well, I won’t distract you any longer. Break a leg out there.”

I watched after him as he went back in the direction of the stage before hurrying into my dressing room to prepare for my next scene. The entire time I had a smile on my face so wide that my cheeks were starting to hurt.

I guess dreams really do come true.

[one-boring-person]

Requested by: @80s4life

I hope you like this!😊💛

What I Did To You.

Snake Plissken (Escape From New York/LA) x reader

Warnings: violence, injury, swearing, gun use

Masterlist

I have my gun levelled at his head before I've even closed the door properly, my face drawn into a fierce scowl, eyes blazing with anger. Every muscle in my body goes tense, my hand unwavering as I hold the weapon up, my leg throbbing in memory pain. Across from me, the intruder remains stood silently, his eye fixed on mine, his own hand still resting at his hip, ready to draw his pistol at any point.

"Hello to you, too." He greets me in the quiet way he always used to, his lips barely moving.

Frown deepening, I push the door behind me closed without looking at it, keeping my gun aimed at his head as I look him over. Not for the first time, he's covered in a light layer of grime, his brown leather jacket darkened in places by the dirt and lightened in others by the fraying, his boots caked in dust from the wasteland outside. His golden mane of hair is slightly dulled from exposure to the unforgiving sun outside and falls into his eyepatch, flicked out of the way every so often by a jerk of the head. A shadow of a stubble covers his chin, as it always has, disguising a few new scars I've not seen before...as well as one I know very well. Other than that, Snake Plissken has not changed at all.

My eyes narrow, grip on the gun tightening.

"Leave." Is all I say, shifting my weight onto my other foot.

"You used to have such nice manners." Snake's lip curls, the soldier taking a step towards me.

Instantly, I flick my thumb over the flintlock.

"Leave." I repeat, pulling the hammer down as the gun makes a dull clicking sound.

"No." He moves closer, standing so the gun is inches from his chest.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here." I growl, oh so tempted to pull the trigger, "I don't know why you don't keep your distance."

A cruel smirk creeps onto his lips, eye narrowing as his head tilts to the side.

"Trust me, I didn't want to come here, either." He reassures me, "But I have no choice."

"I'm giving you a choice. Leave, or I'll introduce some lead into your diet." I retort, ignoring the burn in my arm from holding it outstretched. At this point, it's the only thing keeping us separated.

"I'll pass on both." Snake snorts, shooting a dismissive glance at the handgun pointed at his throat - now that he's standing closer, my aim only really comes up to his chest and neck, "Put the gun away."

I nearly laugh at him then, another surge of anger going through me.

"You're in no position to order me around. Not anymore." I practically snarl at him, keeping the gun where it is.

"Suit yourself. I came to ask for your help, the least you could do is be civil." He replies coldly, glaring at me now.

Again, the urge to laugh in his face goes through me.

"You came here to ask for my help?" I repeat, cocking my head in disbelief at the sheer balls of the man, "You really need to leave before I pull this trigger."

"(Y/n), we both know if you wanted me dead, I'd be bleeding out on the floor already." He points out, unimpressed.

"Maybe I'm waiting for an apology first."

This seems to catch him off guard.

"An apology?" He repeats, frowning in confusion, "For what?"

It takes all I have not to lunge at him and throttle the handsome bastard's neck in my hands, my leg flaring up in pain at the reminder.

"You know damn well what for." I growl at him, shifting off of my leg again, rubbing at it unconsciously.

Snake's eyes follow my movement, realisation dawning on him.

"I already apologised for that." He says quietly, clearly remembering back to the time I'm referring to.

It still plagues me, that one last operation we'd had to do together. Three years ago, back when we were still working together on jobs, good at what we did, the perfect partnership...except for Snake's tendency to protect his ego. It had been horrible that night, rain pelting the ground as we moved on the abandoned construction site, mud slicking our boots and trousers, foggy air making it impossible to see anywhere. I had told Snake we shouldn't go that day,  that it would be better to wait until another, clearer night, but he insisted on the raid. He'd told me that he'd "been in worse" and that this was nothing, so we took our guns, knives and other equipment, and headed out into the wastelands to deal with the threat.

At first, everything had been fine: we'd managed to get in with no problem, creeping around the perimeter, taking out guards as we went, bodies sodden and filthy now, freezing under our light jackets. It was only as we moved to go further into the site that disaster had struck. Suddenly, gunfire was tearing into the ground inches away from us, driving us back behind an old container box, flashes of light appearing in the milky fog around us, our vision obscured by the sheeting rain, the mud making it hard to retreat. We later found out we'd been ratted out to the terrorists occupying the site, and they'd set up a trap for us, hounding us from the place with rifles spewing bullets at us the entire way. We had been close to escaping.

Then I slipped on a landmine.

All of a sudden, I was flying forwards through the air, agony erupting in my left leg as the flash of light and flames exploded behind me, my body crashing to the floor seconds later. Winded and incapable of moving thanks to the pain lancing through me from my leg, I had screamed out to Snake, hoping for him to return to me, the smell of burning flesh soon flooding my nostrils as my foot caught in the blaze. Howling in agony, I had tried to pull myself out, my fingers scrabbling at the slick mud in desperation, only for the pain to become too overbearing. I had looked for Snake, only to see the back of his head disappearing towards our getaway vehicle, paying no mind to me. It was then that I blacked out, my heart drowning in betrayal and hurt.

For a week or so, I'd been held captive by the terrorists, tortured sometimes, my wounds left to fester, bones shattered and out of place, burns turning ugly over the time. Eventually, another team had been sent in to rescue me, the group getting me out before it got too far. Taken to a hospital, it took me weeks to recover, every muscle and bone in my left leg needing to be reformed almost completely, surgeries being done near-daily to realign them all, the skin basically unsalvageable. I'd had four different skin grafts from various parts of my body, only to leave the limb looking twisted and mangled, basically useless to me until I was encouraged to learn how to use it again. That entailed another half a year of time spent working on getting it to full use again, and even now I can't go nearly as far as I used to. Every so often, the leg throbs, memory pain still hounding me since the day I got the wounds themselves, but I suppose I got off lucky: the surgeons hadn't expected me to make it through.

All of that because of Snake's ego.

His apology? A note sent to me whilst I was unconscious in the hospital.

"You and I have a very idea of what an apology is. Especially for something that kept me bedridden for months." I bite out, heart aching now at the memory, "Especially for someone who left me to die."

Snake purses his lips, swallowing tightly.

"I thought you did die." He says, much quieter now, eye roaming my body guiltily.

"You heard my screams. There's no way you didn't." I reply harshly, reminded again of the raw-throated shrieks for help.

He winces, looking down at his feet now, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I didn't think you'd make it. If I went back, I wouldn't have gotten out." He murmurs, sounding somewhat saddened by what he's saying.

"You wanna know how long it took those fuckers to get to me? Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! There was more than enough time!" I spit at him, face twisted in anger.

Once again, he winces at my words, only now realising the extent of what he did.

"And even when you knew I was alive, when I was in hospital, you couldn't even be asked to come and apologise in person. You sent a damn note." I shake my head, looking at him in disgust, "You're a coward. A spineless coward. Why didn't you at least show your face? Why? Why did you leave me to face the pain on my own?"

"Because I couldn't face it! I couldn't face seeing you there, lying in a hospital bed, all doped up, cut-up and bruised because of me! I couldn't face seeing you nearly crippled because of my stupid fucking pride!" Snake finally snaps, voice strained as his eye returns to my face, pain clouding the blue depth, "I thought I got you killed, (Y/n)! I could barely live with myself because of it!"

"Then why wait until now to find me? Why not come sooner?" I question, voice tense.

"I didn't think I'd be able to face you so angry and upset. I cared - care - so much about you, (Y/n), you have no idea how hard this is for me. I've lived with this guilt for so long." He fumbles for words, unable to voice his feelings as he always has been.

"How hard this is for you? Do you have any- argh!" I cut off in pain. As I was speaking, I'd stepped forwards, my leg sending a shock of agony through me as I'd done so, making me stumble forwards.

Snake moves closer, catching me before I can connect with the floor, his arms secure around me as my hands come to rest on his muscular chest. Blushing at the proximity, I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, pushing off of him to sit on a nearby chair, dropping the gun to the floor. Stretching out the affected leg, I sigh in frustration, the anger residing into the same loneliness I've always felt since I got the wounds that have left me like this.

Snake watches me silently, expression pained as he finally speaks.

"Can I...can I see? Please, I want to know what I did to you."

Surprised, I give him a sceptical look, before I hesitantly start to pull my trousers down over my legs. His eye widens at the sight of the limb, lips parting slightly.

Gnarled scar tissue crawls up my leg, discoloured and tight, appearing somewhat ghostly in the light of the room. Snake stares at it in horror, grief swiftly clouding his eye now as he falls to his knees in front of me, hands lifting to hover over it. He flicks his eye up to me, asking for permission, to which I nod, gasping as he removes his gloves and gently places his hands on the sensitive skin, a shiver going up my spine. Ever so carefully, Snake runs his palms over the scars, feeling them over with hesitant fingers, his expression becoming more and more open.

After a while, he looks up, pained eye meeting mine.

"God, (Y/n), I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." He grasps my hips, pushing his head into my abdomen as he wraps me into an awkward embrace, murmuring apologies over and over. Shocked, I hesitantly place my hands on his head, threading my fingers through his soft hair. An old tenderness springs into life within me, reminding me of why I used to stay with him, and what his riendship used to mean to me. Over the years, I had tried to forget it, but it's impossible - as he holds me close now, I realise I've missed him more than I'd ever let myself admit.

Snake pulls away after a few more minutes, caressing my hip as he looks up at me, thoughtful now.

"What job was it you needed help with?" I ask him quietly, twisting a strand of his hair between my fingers, "I'll work with you, if you drop the ego act."

He looks surprised and glad, a smallsile pulling at his lips.

"Of course." He promises, looking away again bashfully, "I only kept it up to impress you."

I blink in surprise.

"To impress me?" I repeat dumbly.

"Yeah, I, err, I've always felt the need to. Wanted to impress you so you'd consider going out with me." He admits, blushing furiously.

I blink again, head tilting in curiosity.

"Wait, what?"

"I always wanted to go out with you. Always." He chuckles, swallowing, "I've always loved you."

"You...you love me?!"

"Yeah, I do." Snake nods, biting his lip.

"Wow..." My voice trails off in surprise, unable to compute what he's saying, "I wish you'd told me sooner."

He frowns.

"What do you mean?"

I smile sheepishly at him.

"I've always had a thing for you, too. I just never thought you even liked me full stop."

"Really?!" He looks astonished.

"Yeah, really."

He's quiet for a moment, until a cunning smirk crosses his lips.

"In that case..." Snake leans up and connects our lips, kissing me softly but passionately.

A quiet moan escapes me, my lips moving instinctively against his, kissing him back in relief. His lips are chapped, but I can't find it in me to care as I pull his head closer to me, smiling as he pulls my body into him, his chest pressed firmly against my abdomen. In his arms, I can feel the pain of the last few years starting to slip away, still hooked deeply into me but starting to lessen, my eyes falling closed with the movement of his lips.

He finally pulls away, a content smile on his face, eye taking my expression in.

"So what's this job?" I breathe out, stroking his hair.

He grins lazily.

"Ever thought about going to LA?"

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘It’s A Dangerous Game’ - Saeran Choi x Reader (Nsfw)

It’s here!! I’ve spent the last three days entirely dedicated to this fic, I really really hope you guys enjoy it! It’s an absolute labour of love and I would really appreciate any likes and reblogs on it and kind words! I’m sorry for the slightly odd formatting, tumblr messes with it! - Violet 

If Day 9 of Saeran’s route ended a little differently. - A song fic inspired by the song ‘It’s a Dangerous Game’ from Jekyll and Hyde: A Gothic Musical, I really suggest listening to the song whilst reading this fic! 

Title: It’s a Dangerous Game

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Saeran Choi x Reader

 You were sat in your room, occasionally getting up to hear if you could make out any conversations on the other side of the door. It was rather muffled, but you heard Saeran’s name muttered a few times, your stomach starting to churn at the mention of him. You were so conflicted. You had loved Ray, that much was evident. You were still so drawn to Saeran, he was a horror at the start and had treated you with such irredeemable cruelty, but he was changing. His turmoil was so plain to see that even the believers couldn’t stop themselves from gossiping about it. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate Saeran, he was hurting you out of his own pain. He didn’t know what to do with his anguish, so he lashed it out on other people. He needed help, but you could only get him out if the two of you could first get to safety. You could tell he wasn’t ready for such an idea. You knew you needed to run far, far away from Magenta: but you wanted Saeran to come with you. Your cold fingertips grazed over the lovebite he had given you, and you felt an urge to see him. You knew it was wrong to feel like this, but you couldn’t help it. Saeran ignited something in you the same way that Ray had done. It felt different, but you couldn’t deny to yourself that it was there.

 Rika’s words had worried you, it was plain to see she blamed you for Saeran going missing and it was just as clear that she was vengeful because of it. But, to you, the fact that this had happened was evidence enough that he was changing, confused and scared. You checked your phone again, but there were no new messages from him. Instead, you read through the messages from Rika once again, lost in her accusations.

‘_____?’ A nameless voice from the back of your room asked. You knew that voice all too well.

        ‘Saeran?’ You whispered back, trying to keep your voice down to ensure that the believers guarding the outside of your room wouldn’t be alerted.

         ‘You recognized me right away. You weren’t waiting for me, were you?’ He moved closer, but still maintained a tentative distance. You sat up in bed and started to move when he stopped you, ‘No need to get out of bed. Relax. I’m not here to torture you…’ He continued. You had never seen him look so… melancholic. Not even Ray had appeared so beaten down and vulnerable in front of you, even when the two of you had encountered V in the garden.

Saeran held your gaze, ‘I will no longer torment you.’

         ‘How come?’ you found your voice from the back of your throat and questioned him, but he explained that it was something he could not summarise in one word. His mint eyes glanced towards the edge of your bed and you beckoned for him to sit down, sensing that he needed to speak.

‘____, you never gave up on me no matter how much I tormented you. You didn’t let my torture and your wounds crush you. I cursed you dozens of times that your eyes are disgusting because you looked like you know a world completely different from mine. And when I kept looking into your face, it felt like I was losing. I wanted to get closer to you, but I also wanted to avoid you. I wanted to know you better, but at the same time, I wanted to neglect you. Even after I tormented you… it didn’t feel like I beat you. That’s why I felt empty. I felt so empty. So, in the end, I got angrier, and I wanted to torment you even more. You’re gentle, but you never fall down. You rebel, but you don’t return your pain to me.’ His gaze dropped for a moment, ‘You avoided me, but you never gave up on me completely… Even now, you haven’t given up on me.’

Your eyes dropped to the hand that he had rested on top of your bedsheets and you tentatively moved your own towards it, gently placing it on top. He startled for a second, not expecting such intimacy. He was so unused to it, it had always been so denied to him.

‘My darkness is melting away, but you still remain the way you are… How can you stay the same?’

‘I thought you were hurting others because you had been so terribly wounded in the past. I stayed the same because you’re you, regardless of whether you’re Saeran or Ray. I care about you both.’

‘You understood me. I should… thank you for understanding me, shouldn’t I?’ He turned his hand slightly to wrap his fingers around yours, ‘Thank you… for understanding me. All those things I said about you, how you were weak and useless, they’re not true at all. I was the weak one. I said all those cruel things to you because I didn’t want people to know I was so weak. I didn’t want to get hurt.’

‘But you hurt yourself by saying such cruel things, you hurt yourself and Ray.’

‘No matter how hard you tried to guide me to the right path, your words couldn’t reach me. Even now, it’s so difficult to accept myself the way I am. I’m ruined beyond hope. It’s impossible for me to throw away my hatred against the world and start all over again in this little hell, but maybe it’s possible for Ray. Right now, he’s speaking inside me… that maybe, just maybe, if what V said is true, he might be able to see his brother again. And that, if he begs for your forgiveness, and if by any chance you’re able to forgive him, then he’ll make you as happy as best he can, with everything he has. I can hear him now, he’s praying in the corner of my heart that everything will work out well and that he’ll be happy one day. I know nothing but anger. I get angry because I’m scared my hope will turn to despair again-‘

‘I won’t let it, not your hope nor Ray’s. I’ll protect it.’ You cut him off. In the darkness, you heard him swallow and it sounded like he started to choke on his own words a little.

‘We already are one. It’s just that my voice is stronger right now. Both Ray and I are… in this body. The monster that had to torture you to hide how pathetic he’s become is me, and the persistent idiot that doesn’t lose hope no matter how much he’s tormented is also me. If I become good enough to keep you unharmed… we’ll naturally become completely one.’ Saeran turned to you, a tear falling from his eye and landing on the hand which sat between the two of you, ‘I must leave.’

‘Saeran, don’t go.’ You clutched at his hand tighter as he tried to flee. The frailness of his hand worried you, knowing that he never ate enough food. You knew all too well that he had strength in those hands, but also tenderness. Softness.

‘I didn’t want to tell you… that I’m sorry. It feels too late, but I should do it anyway. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you.’ He said, stern but sad.

‘I know you did, but it’s different. You’re different. I know you’re sorry. You’re not the same person who did this. You were so…heavily drugged. You aren’t going to do this again, we both know you aren’t.’

‘But I’m the same person who did that.’ Saeran glanced at your neck, at the lovebite. He used his free hand to touch his hand against the bruise. His pale hand stopped just slightly short of actually reaching your throat. He muttered an apology and began to retract his hand, but you caught it and pulled it to your neck so his fingertips couldn’t deny that the lovebite took place. However, there was still such a slight fear of his touch, given everything that had happened, that you gasped at the feeling of his hand on your neck. The chill of fear wasn’t the only reason for the gasp, but he didn’t realise that and attempted to pull his hand away. You held the cold hand against the warmth of your skin.

‘No, no! It’s okay. You’re okay.’ You assured him. It seemed to work as Saeran began to move his fingers up and down the soft skin of your neck, his eyes falling over your bare shoulders and arms.

‘Ray… said that he wanted to be bolder to you, but he’s too scared. I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing right now, but I have the capability of being bolder for him. Do you mind… if I try?’ Saeran didn’t move, but held the intense eye contact once again. You could have gotten lost in those eyes of his, but the racing of your heart and the burning in your gut kept you grounded. You wanted him to bolder, to touch you again, in the way that he’s supposed to.

I feel your fingers -

Cold on my shoulder -

Your chilling touch,

Watching your eyes

As they invade my soul -

‘Of course…’ You breathed out, meeting his gaze with a light dusting of red flushing your cheeks.

‘I can’t be tender in the way that Ray can…’ He trailed off.

‘That’s okay, you don’t need to be Ray for me. You can be Saeran.’ You replied and he seemed convinced by this and you felt as his fingers curled at the back of the neck slightly, bringing you closer to him. He pressed his chapped lips against yours for a moment and you were worried he was going to hear your heart beating so loudly at the contact. Saeran pulled away momentarily to gauge your reaction was a positive one, and then pushed his lips against yours once again with increased intensity. He was rough, that couldn’t be denied. But he wasn’t doing it to hurt you, Saeran just wasn’t as tamed as Ray. Your breath hitched in your throat as he crawled across the bed to be kneeling above you, refusing to break the kiss as he did so. Your arms slide around the back of his neck, working your fingers into his hair as one hand grabbed onto your thigh.

Forbidden pleasures

I'm afraid to make mine.

            He opened your mouth with his own and pushed his tongue inside, causing you to moan. It felt so dangerous, with the believers outside. You knew someone could open the door at any moment and Saeran knew it too. It still felt risky doing such a thing with Saeran after he had been so cruel to you, but you didn’t want to stop. It was so good and you could tell by the way he looked at you, by the way he touched you, that he wasn’t the same person that introduced himself a few days ago.

At the touch of your hand -

At the sound of your voice -

At the moment your eyes meet mine -

I am out of my mind -

I am out of control -

Full of feelings I can't define!

He broke off the kiss first, needing a second to catch his breath. He seemed to be wary of the door opening too and moved off the bed to listen for any voices on the other side of the door. He paused there for a moment, waiting. You missed the connection and the sensation of his body so close, the touch of his lips against yours. An idea popped into your head. You slipped out of bed to grab a chair and handed it to him to slide underneath the door handles so they couldn’t be opened. 

           You also stood with your ear to the door and closed your eyes to concentrate on any slight noise. You couldn’t hear anything except for the thud of your heart and the quiet shift of Saeran’s clothes, which was a relief. Once you were satisfied that no one was outside, you sighed and were about to turn around to look for Saeran. However, before you had the chance to do that, his arms had already snaked their way around your waist and had pulled you close to him with his torso pressing against your back. He muttered your name as he sighed against your ear, placing small kisses along the side of your neck. It took everything you had to not moan in that moment, since you were both so close to the door, and instead you let out a few shaky breaths as he kissed your neck and shoulder with more fervour. 

It's a sin with no name -

Like a hand in a flame -

And our senses proclaim

It's a dangerous game!

           You weren’t sure how far the two of you were going to go, but the heat pooling in your stomach indicated that you didn’t want to stop anytime soon. Evidently, neither did he. Saeran pulled you by the waist and moved you up against the wall so you were facing him once again. His eyes seemed darker, half lidded and needy. Within an instant, his mouth was on yours once again, kissing and pulling at your lips. He let out a very quiet groan as your hands worked their way up his body and onto his shoulders before moving them to grab onto his hair. His started kissing along your jawline and onto your neck again, pausing next to the lovebite he had previously given you and you knew it was bothering him.

           ‘It’s okay. You can keep going.’ You whispered back and the man attached his lips once more to your throat, leaving small purple bruises as he did. Your own hand reached up to smother the moans coming out of your mouth as you got more and more turned on. He kissed every bruise he left, including the original one to change the meaning of it. It was no longer a thing of anguish, he wanted it to be one of affection. 

A strange romance -

Out of a mystery tale -

The frightened princess

Doesn't know what to do!

‘Don’t cover your mouth, I want to hear you.’ Saeran whispered into your neck, giving you goosebumps at the sensation. As though to emphasise his point, he lifted your arms above your head, holding both of your wrists together as he went back into kissing you.

‘Ray wanted to do this to you too…’ He continued, sliding one of his legs between yours as you melted against him.

‘He can. I wouldn’t stop him.’ You practically moaned into his mouth and Saeran broke the kiss suddenly, conflict shadowing his face. You were confused, and a little scared for him for a moment. You were so worried that you had done or said something wrong and almost began to apologise. That was until you felt the source of his conflict pressing hard against your thigh. Saeran lent his head down so his forehead was pressing against your shoulder and sighed. He loosened the grip he had on your wrists in defeat.

‘I should go. This is too much for you.’ He muttered, cursing his body for such a reaction. It wasn’t as though it was entirely unprecedented given how the situation had escalated, but he didn’t want to push too much too soon. He knew he had to be considerate of you and considerate of his previous actions.

‘I don’t want you to go-’ You pleaded, using one hand to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss, ‘stay with me.’ He nodded, even if he seemed worried about imposing on you in such a way. He had you so painfully turned on and you were glad you had him feeling the same way. It wasn’t too much for you. In that moment, it was exactly what you wanted.

All I know is I'm lost -

And I'm counting the cost -

My emotions are in a spin!

And though no one’s to blame...

It's a crime and a shame!

 When he was on top of you, you could feel his growing erection pressed against his suit trousers. There was a sense of urgency, desperation, about this intimacy and Saeran pushed your dress up over your hips, exposing your dark underwear in the moonlight. You were inexperienced, and oh so willing to let him take the lead with this, but still a little embarrassed and squeaked at the sudden cool air to your thighs. You went to close them but Saeran held them open, moving himself to lodge his torso between them, a smirk you had never seen appearing on his face. 

but it's true all the same

It's a dangerous game!

You watched as his eyes darkened again at your consent and he guided you towards the bed, not being able to keep his hands off of you for even a single moment. They grabbed at your hips, your waist, your thighs. Your legs hit the back of the bed and you fell backwards onto the plush sheets with Saeran falling on top of you. He had taken to biting at your lips as one of his hands slipped underneath the hem of your black dress, squeezing at your upper thigh and making you shiver. You couldn’t help but moan each time he touched you somewhere new, and you nearly whined when his body left yours to take off his black blazer and tie. There was something about the way that he yanked his tie down to loosen it which made your legs shake slightly in anticipation. He didn’t take the time to fold them, instead leaving them discarded on the floor. They weren’t what was important right now.                        

‘Do you want to undo your dress? If I have to do it, I’d rather just rip it.’ He said, cocking an eyebrow. You complied and undid the zip down the side of the dress and pulled it off from above your head, wanting to spare the fabric. You hadn’t even thrown the dress on the floor before Saeran was grabbing for your chest with one hand and trying to undo his shirt with the other. His plan wasn’t exactly working, so you reached out your hands to unbutton his shirt for him. You felt so… naked under his intense gaze as he didn’t take his eyes off you as you undressed his pulling his shirt from his arms. His cold gaze followed your fingertips as they trace along the outline of his body, the weak body he hated so much, touching along the many scars he had. You couldn’t help but look in horror at the new ones from the ‘cleansing’ he was put through in order to destroy Ray. There were so many, they were so deep. Some of them had been bandaged haphazardly and disinfected, probably by Ray whilst others were barely starting to scab over. He must have seen your expression drop because he put his hand under your chin to make you meet his gaze.

‘You don’t need to worry about those. I’m okay now.’ He pulled you in to another kiss as he reached around to undo your bra, you were thankful that he decided to not rip it, and the lovebites began moving down your chest as he grabbed at your breasts. You gasped against him, unable to contain how good his hands were already making you feel. You didn’t need to find words to convey it, your body was already acting on its own. Wanting him, needing him. 

‘I’ll ask one more time, are you sure about this? I don’t think I can love you in the same way that Ray can. I won’t hurt you on purpose, but I can’t promise I can do wha-’ Saeran started.

           ‘I’m sure. You’ve already said that both you and Ray are one. You don’t need to love me in the same that Ray would, because you’re Saeran. I trust… Saeran too.’ You touched the side of his face and he planted rough kisses down your body, placing one into the hem of your underwear before he pulled them down and off your legs. He positioned himself between your thighs, his rough hands grabbing and kissing at them, adding the occasional bite. You couldn’t deny that you loved the teasing, but you needed something more, you craved to be touched properly. His mouth found itself on your hipbone, sucking hard to form another purple bruise before trailing his tongue across to between your thighs, finally giving you the sensation you desired. 

           ‘Sa-Saeran…’ Your breath choked in your throat as his tongue brushed against every intimate part of you. He hasn’t tentative, but bold and rough. He licked and sucked until he found out what made you moan the most, savouring the fact that he could make your thighs shake to such an extent that he had to hold them in a hard grip to keep them steady. His soft tongue was rough, but never forceful. It was eager, determined to please for both parties. You were embarrassed to look, but when you glanced your eyes down at him his powerful gaze was holding your own, deciphering every reaction you made. The intensity in his cool eyes caused the knot that had been slowly forming in your stomach to begin tightening more and more, to the point where his hands were the only thing keeping you from subconsciously squeezing your thighs around his head. You threw your hands into his bleached hair, unable to help yourself from needing something to hold onto.

              ‘Does the Princess like that?’ He asked, biting onto your thigh and catching his breath. All you could manage in response was a moan and a few whimpers, silently begging him.

 No one speaks -

Not one word -

But the words are in our eyes

Saeran was also getting painfully hard from watching the reaction he had on you, how good he could make you feel with his mouth. He had never liked his body, but he, at a base level, at least appreciated that he was capable of bringing you such pleasure, even if it had to come at the price of first causing you such pain. He felt the tip of his erection leaking pre-cum uncomfortably into his tight boxers and deprived you of his tongue in order to free himself from the now restrictive trousers. 

‘You’ll like this more.’ He knelt up on the bed, looming over you. The room was so dark, the moonlight providing the only illumination against his icy eyes and smirk. He wiped the wetness from his jaw and used the same hand to circle the head of his dick, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft. You clenched your thighs at the sight in absolute yearning. 

‘Tell me that you want it, Princess.’ He edged closer to you, moving all the way up so that he was practically in your face. He hovered above you on his hands and legs, and you felt his erection touch the side of your leg. You were so desperate to be close to him once again, you swallowed.

‘I want…it.’ You whispered and you blushed and averted your gaze from his in embarrassment.

At the touch of your hand -

‘Say it again.’ Once again, he moved your head so you couldn’t look away from him.

At the sound of your voice -

‘I want it… Saeran.’ Your voice trailed off as you felt him reach down to adjust himself, lining up his tip with your entrance. 

At the moment your eyes meet mine -

            The both of you let out broken groans as he pushed himself into you.

‘Ah, you’re… fucking tight.’ You opened your eyes to see him with his eyes squeezed shut in a mixture of pleasure and concentration. For a moment, you were so lost in the feeling of being so utterly filled by him. He had already felt so good just going in that the idea of him finally moving inside you was nearly enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. He waited until you felt comfortable enough for him to move before setting a rough rhythm. This time, Saeran did have to muffle your mouth to smother your moans. Of course, he made sure not to hurt you in the process. It fuelled his confidence to know he was fucking you that good, but this was not the time to get caught by another believer. He kept his gaze on your face, watching as you closed your eyes and a new wave of pleasure washed over you with every hard thrust of his hips. Occasionally, he dipped his head to bite at your collarbones or groan out a curse in your ear.

I am out of control -

Fighting feelings I can't define!

 I am out of my mind -

It's a sin with no name -

No remorse and no shame -

           Saeran continued to thrust into you, hitting you and new and deeper angles each couple of minutes so the sensations always felt different. His pace was merciless and you didn’t have an opportunity to think between every new snap of his hips. That knot in your stomach was almost unbearably tight and threatened to snap at any moment. Part of you didn’t want it to, because you didn’t want the moment to end. 

           Your arms grabbed along his back, unable to help but claw lightly at the damp skin. Even in your delirium, you made an effort to avoid any of his injuries. The last thing you wanted to cause Saeran was more pain. Eventually, he had to remove the hand from your mouth in order to support himself better. It was clear that he was also reaching his limit as he panted in the crook of your neck, his thrusts getting even rougher and more vigorous than they had been at the start.

And the angels proclaim

It's a dangerous game!

           Suddenly, and without enough time to warn Saeran, the knot snapped and you orgasmed within him still slamming into you.

‘God!’ you cried, and you truly could have thanked God for the man between your legs right now, ‘S-Saeran, a-ah!’ You choked out between slam, your mind numb to absolutely everything other than the overwhelming pleasure he had brought you. He couldn’t handle the feelings of your walls clenching so aggressively around his cock and almost immediately climaxed at the same time, with barely enough of thought to pull out before he ejaculated. He managed to do it, finishing down the side of your inner thigh rather than inside you. 

‘Fuck-!’ His arms were shaking and his eyes pressed tightly together. His panting and exhaustion were overt and you wanted nothing more than for him to collapse next to you, holding one another until you both passed out. When he opened his eyes again, they were so soft. The icy gaze seemed to have melted into pools of sweet oceans, holding infinite depths of tenderness and affection. No words were needed, you understood one another.

Saeran’s tiredness took over him and he collapsed on the bed next to you and you pressed small kisses against his temple, his cheek and eventually his lips. After a few moments, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. You couldn’t stop your heart racing, but it was okay, because you knew your hearts were racing in sync. By the time you had gotten ready for bed, Saeran had already gotten dressed and passed out on the side of the bed. You threw a blanket over him and got into the bed with your chest pressed up against his back, wrapping your arms around him in a silent promise to never let him go. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep and you were lulled into unconsciousness by the sound of his breathing and the quiet drum of his heartbeat. It was probably the best sleep you had had since you’d arrived at Magenta. 

When the morning came, you found you were alone in the bed and feared that Saeran had changed his mind about you. Your hands desperately clawed at his side of the bed. He had left a letter tucked into the bedding for you, with your phone next to it and a spam of messages from the RFA. You’d been reconnected! 

Opening the letter, it read:

            ‘Pack well, but lightly. Be ready, I’ll come and get you.

            Trust me.  - Saeran.’

[captainrexforever]

Trials and Tribulations 2/2

Rating: T

Word count: ~6k

Summary: The reader discovers that she has formed a force bond with her Mandalorian companion. This has some unforeseen complications during the events at the Imperial refinery on Morak.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon typical violence, more Dad! Fett, awkward! Din, use of in-universe curse words

Note: Part 2 at last! There are quite a few pov. changes, so I hope that they don’t interrupt the flow of the story too much. Happy reading, and I hope you enjoy! 

Pt. 1

After settling into the cockpit alongside Fett, the only thing you can do is wait for Fennec’s signal, but that doesn’t mean you have to be bored. 

“Is it too much to ask for a tour of the flight controls?” 

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” He speaks honestly. 

You can only chuckle in response and shrug. “What can I say, I’m not used to holding a conversation with my crewmate.”

“I take it Mando doesn’t talk much.” 

His eyes search your face, and although you attempt to hold his gaze, your eyes fall to the floor as you answer. “No, he doesn’t.”

Fett only nods in response, and you have a sudden urge to change the subject. “So, I noticed that you wear your helmet while flying, even though all the screens are displayed on the console.”

He must note the change in topic, but he doesn’t bring it up. “Yes, I tied all the tracking technology into the visor of my helmet. That way if I have to aim at something while in flight, I can observe it through the viewport and follow the object with my eyes, as if aiming a real blaster.”

“Woah, that’s really cool.”

“Indeed. It’s an idea my father often shared with me, although he didn’t get the chance to implement the changes. I was finally able to make the alterations myself.” There’s a little bit of nostalgia in his voice, and you wonder if you should feel bad for bringing up a potentially sensitive topic. “Perhaps I can let you try it on the retrieval run.” Boba continues. 

“Oh, no, no, no, maybe later, thank you. I don’t want to jeopardize the mission with my novice flying skills.”

“Is that so? You project the aura of a competent pilot.”

“Yes, but it’s been a while since I’ve sat behind the controls of a ship.”

Fett raises a hand to his chin, as if stroking a non-existent beard. “So you didn’t fly Mando’s ship?” It’s definitely a question, but it comes off more like a statement. 

“Well, I...I usually left that to Mando, I felt like it was almost a form of relaxation for him and I didn’t want to take that away.”

“Can I give you some advice?” 

That throws you off a little. 

“Sure.”

“A Mandalorian’s ship is a precious possession, not as important to them as beskar or their code, but still. A ship represents a Mandalorian’s freedom and individuality. If you were allowed to live within that ship for what I estimate to be several months, there was something else going on.”

It feels like someone lodged their fist into your chest and squeezed all the air out of your lungs. Surely he couldn’t mean...“What, what do you mean? Are you saying he was desperate for help no matter the cost?”

Fett wants to bang his head on the console, then bang it against your head to knock some sense into you. No wonder you and the Mandalorian get along so well, you’re both absolutely clueless. 

“Do you know that he carried you up the ramp of this ship last week when you were on death’s door, demanding medical attention from me?” Your eyes widen in response. “When we eventually realized you were losing too much blood, his first instinct was to infiltrate a medical station to obtain the necessary blood samples for a transfusion. Lucky for him, I had some sequencing instruments aboard, and we were able to identify your blood type. By some miracle, you and he happen to possess the same blood.” The atmosphere is becoming more tense by the second, and you can only sit there as Fett recounts the events surrounding your recent injuries. “He stayed by your side during the entire two day flight to Nevarro, refusing to eat or sleep. With the amount of time he spent providing blood to the transfusion system, I was sure he would pass out from blood loss before we arrived.” A choked sound leaves your throat. “The second we landed, he was on his feet, clutching onto your body as he carried you to the Marshal’s office.” 

He lets his words sink in for a moment as he pins you underneath his gaze once again. “I have fought countless battles, lost many comrades, and seen fellow warriors suffer horrible injuries. But I have never seen a man so stricken with grief and despair at the thought of losing a fellow comrade-in-arms. It’s obvious you mean much more to him than either of you realize.” 

He notices that you’re in shock after taking in all of that information, and he opens his mouth to say one last thing. “If you want to take a seat in the hold and let yourself process all of that, I’ll let you know when I receive the cue to take off.” 

The sentence is uttered with kindness, and you can only nod, thankful for his understanding. In a second you’re slipping down the ladder to the main hold of the ship. 

Kriff. 

Tears bite at the corners of your eyes as you suppress a sniffle with your forearm. That damned Mandalorian has been holding out on you. It all makes sense now. The affection you sensed earlier, the brief moments where you often notice his gaze linger for a millisecond too long. He cares about you. The thought has you releasing a muffled sob into your palms, why has he never told you? You would have welcomed his affection and returned it a thousand fold, if he had ever offered you the chance. 

A spike of fear races up your spine suddenly, and you tense in response. There is a familiar tickling sensation in the back of your mind, and you realize that Din is unintentionally projecting on you. After what happened earlier, you’re sure that you are the last person he wants to communicate with. His fear washes over you again, this time accompanied by panic, and you know that something has gone terribly wrong. Feelings be damned, you need to know what is going on down there. A firm nudge against his thought process grants your mind access to his, and the singular pulsing thought that envelops your brain gives you an immediate headache. 

“This is for the kid. The kid needs me, I can do this for him. I can do this for the kid.”

“Din, what’s going on?”

“You need to leave right now.”

“Din, what’s going on, let me help.”

There is no response. You’re so frustrated right now that you want to punch him, and you must be projecting because he allows you to see one more thought. 

You gasp in disbelief and shock. 

“Din...no. You can’t take your helmet off.”

“This is for the kid, Y/n. There is no other way.”

“Your creed, your way. What will you do after you take it off?”

“I...I don’t know. This is the only way I can save him.”

A tear rolls down your cheek.

“I understand.” Then you pull yourself from his mind. 

Even faced with death, while you cried over his limp body, he had refused to remove his helmet. 

No, you don’t understand at all.

~~

By the time Mayfeld and Mando board the ship, you’re seated in the cockpit once again, desperately trying to keep a firm hold on your emotions. The ship rocks with the force of an explosion as Boba makes a hasty retreat. 

“We got company. Hang on.” He announces. 

The ship swerves to the side as he maneuvers away from the blasts of two tie fighters, and you watch in fascination as the scope on his helmet automatically drops into place in front of his visor. 

“These Imperial pilots can’t hit a damn thing.” He complains to you.

“Isn’t that a good thing for us?” You ask.

“I suppose. It isn’t much fun though.”

Wow. Maybe he and Din aren’t so different after all, or perhaps all Mandalorians are just crazy. 

“You wanted to learn about the controls, right? Flip that gold switch I’m pointing to.” He requests.

After grasping a hold of the pilot seat to keep yourself upright, you reach for the control panel and flip the switch. 

“Excellent, now take my helmet.” He removes it and holds it out to you. “Let me know when the two fighters are within 80 meters of each other.” 

You take the helmet eagerly, desperate for some type of combat action to block out your overwhelming emotions. The visor remains dark until the helmet thunks into place around your head, then it bursts into life. There are so many readings on the display that you are overwhelmed for a moment. 

“Look at the top right corner of the HUD, it’ll show you the close-range scans and a distance measurement for the two targets.”

“Got it. The display measures the distance at 100 meters.” 

“Alright, just wait a second. Standard flight path protocol will have them grouping up soon.”

Sure enough, the number plunges down to 90, then 85, then 82. Just a little bit closer…“Now!”

A light flashes somewhere on the HUD as a click filters through the helmet’s speakers. A glance at the top right corner of the display reveals a projectile moving towards the two tie fighters, and you grin at the resulting explosion. There is still a satisfied smile on your face when you hand the helmet back to Fett. 

“Nice shot. And thank you.” You hope that he understands your referring both to the advice he shared earlier, as well as his recent actions.

He nods. “Any time, vod.” 

“Vod?”

“It’s Mando’a, the closest term in Basic is ‘comrade’.” 

That spikes your interest and there is a burning question on the tip of your tongue, but you leave it for later.

“I’m gonna set the ship down, you might want to take a seat.” Fett breaks the silence. 

You scramble to follow his advice, and once the landing cycle is complete he rises from his chair. “Just a moment.” He elaborates, as he descends down the ladder. 

His absence leaves you with a quiet moment to reflect, and you hold your fisted hands out so you can list some facts and organize your frazzled thoughts. Ok, you tell yourself as you take a deep breath. 

One, Din cares about you. 

Two, you care about Din. 

Three, he cares for the child like a son. 

Four...what’s another fact? Dank farrik!

Four, you repeat as you rack your brain. Ah yes, Din’s Creed forbids him from revealing his face to another being.

Five, Din obviously knew he had no choice but to risk breaking his code. The choice was to either reveal his face, or abandon the child to a fate that could be worse than death. 

Six. Well, now that you think about it, you are being a little bit petty. You would also be willing to risk anything, if it was the only way to save the kid. Now that you’ve gone and said it, you feel a little ashamed. Poor Din doesn’t deserve to deal with the loss of his child and your foul mood at the same time. 

You decide to continue your list.

Seven, Boba Fett’s ship is cool as hell.

Eight, Din is kinda hot. Wait, what?! Hold on a second.

Eight, Din is...alright fine. He’s pretty hot. 

Nine, He does have very nice thighs.

Ten, He’s really attractive when he’s fighting.

Eleven, He’s...Wait, you only have ten fingers! 

You really need to get yourself under control, this is completely out of line. 

“Let’s hold tight up here for a moment, Mando’s putting on his kit.” 

You let out an undignified squeak, caught entirely by surprise. What you said earlier was becoming more and more true by the second, Mando and Boba weren’t so different after all. 

~~

Meanwhile in the small fresher, Mando is in the process of attaching his beskar chestplate when you start projectingly very loudly. A blush rises to his cheeks as you approach the end of your mental list. He has always hoped that you felt some semblance of affection towards him, but the thoughts you are currently entertaining are on a whole new level.

After the events in the refinery, he’s still a little shaken, but he feels he owes you an explanation for his recent behavior. Once the last piece of Beskar is attached to his figure, he prepares to ascend the ladder to the cockpit. But, when he approaches, he can distinctly make out your voice, as well as Fett’s.

“There are two words that I sometimes hear Mando use, and I think that they are from Mando’a. Would you mind translating them?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I did once. He didn’t answer.”

“What are they?”

“‘Verd’ and ‘ika’.”

“Interesting.” He strokes at his chin again. “It’s actually one word, verd’ika.” (Little warrior)

“Oh. What does it mean?”

“It means…” 

Oh no, Din thinks. I need to break this up right now. 

“What’s the status on Cara and Fennec?” He blurts out. Affection and amusement fill him when he notices you jump slightly in your seat at his sudden appearance. 

“They should be approaching our position at any moment now.”

Din nods. He realizes he’s awkwardly lingering at the base of the ladder now, but he can’t let Fett share that translation with you. Not yet. Not until he is able to explain himself.

“Fett, could you provide me with the materials to replace the cooling core in my blaster? All my spare parts and tools were on my ship.” 

Boba stares him down. He knows exactly what Din is trying to do. Din sighs, he is far too fatigued, mentally and emotionally, to deal with this right now. He’s just about to give up when Fett gives him a sharp nod, plops his helmet over his head, and rises from his chair before descending into the hull. Din notices him shoot you an apologetic look, which you respond to with a tight-lipped smile. 

Now that at least one disaster has been avoided, Din turns to follow through with his made-up task. A voice crackles through the speakers in his helmet, and he startles when he recognizes Fett’s voice. He hasn’t heard a fellow Mandalorian’s voice transmit through his helmet’s audio channel since the destruction of the covert. 

“I know what you did back there.” Fett states.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I meant in the refinery.” Fett clarifies.

Din tenses in response and whirls around to face Fett again. How could he know?

“I was monitoring all Imperial communications from inside the refinery as a precaution, just in case there was a complication. The Imperial terminal in the base uploaded a facial scan that wasn’t registered to the computer’s database right after you two arrived.”

Din’s hands clench into fists, if Fett saw the scan…

“Don’t worry Mando, I never saw the image. But, I did have to perform a fair bit of technological jargon to approve the scan. And, I made sure the image was deleted from the Imperial database immediately after the files were downloaded.”

Din’s figure visibly relaxes, those were just two more favors he owed Fett. 

“You know, you owe your companion a lot of explanations. Or should I say, gar verd’ika.” (Your little warrior)

If Din didn’t feel so exhausted he would put up a bigger fight, but he can’t help the way he immediately gives in to Fett’s unspoken inquiry. 

“She is...important to me, I just don’t know how to tell her.”

“Well you’re going to have to do better than that. Think about it, then come talk to me. We will figure it out, as brothers.”

Din nods his approval. 

“Are you two done staring into each other’s eyes? Because you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Mayfeld.

“Shut up Mayfeld.” Boba and Din huff in unison as they shoot him two identical helmeted glares.

Later, after Mayfeld is relieved from the crew, Boba and Din agree that they should fly to the nearest friendly planet so that they can restock their food stores and ammunition. While the ship is in hyperspace, Din takes a seat to prepare the message he plans to transmit to Moff Gideon. It only takes him a moment to agree on the wording. He decides to repeat the same lines that Moff Gideon arrogantly delivered on Nevarro several months ago, with a couple key differences. The message will serve as a warning, an omen of what is to come. 

The last line of the speech suddenly gives him an idea. Perhaps he knows what to say to you after all.

~~

Now that Mayfeld is gone, (you don’t even bother to ask why you are leaving him behind) you are free to sit down in the hold once again. But, after spending so much time in the cockpit, you find yourself wanting to stay. Boba Fett still sits in the pilot seat, wearing his helmet as he pilots the ship. Mando sits in the furthest corner of the hold, facing the clear viewport, as he and Cara discuss their next steps towards retrieving the child. You assume that Fennec is also down below, most likely passing the time by polishing her beloved rifle.

Fett breaks the comfortable silence that reigns over the cockpit. “As I recall, I promised you a chance to fly. Even though we’re in hyperspace right now, it’s good practice to just sit in front of the controls and familiarize yourself.” 

“Are you sure?” You’re secretly jumping up and down with excitement, but you don’t want to annoy Fett right as he’s offering you the opportunity to fly his ship.

“I’m quite certain.” He stands up, offering you the seat. 

You sit down immediately, running your fingers lovingly over the controls. It’s been a long time since you’ve been behind the console of a ship as unique as this one. After you’re done gawking, you look over to Fett, only to notice that he’s staring off into space. At least, you assume he’s staring off into space, you can’t really tell while he is wearing the helmet. He looks over to you after a second and removes his helmet, offering it to you for the second time that day. 

“Are you sure I need the helmet?” Please say yes.

“Go ahead, you might as well be familiar with all the aspects of the in-flight instruments.”

You offer him a beaming smile before settling the beskar over your head. “I’ll be right back.” You hear him say, along with the sounds of him descending the ladder. Odd, you think, he seemed to be in quite a hurry.

~~

 As Din discusses his plan with Cara, he hears Fett’s voice crackle through the speaker in his helmet. “You ready to have that discussion? Your companion just announced she’s heading to the fresher, so we have time for a brief chat in the cockpit.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” Din responds.

Din continues his conversation with Cara, and when he notices a blur make its way down the ladder from the cockpit, he politely excuses himself. 

He makes his way towards the ladder, the echo of his feet meeting the rungs causing nerves to bubble to life in his chest. One foot meets the durasteel flooring of the cockpit, then the other follows. He stands there awkwardly for a second, the back of the pilot chair and Fett’s helmet in clear view, then abruptly spills his thoughts.

“I know what to say.” He clears his throat as his voice cracks a little. 

~~ 

Fennec stands from her seat, affectionately patting her rifle as she props it against the side of the chair. As she passes by the supply closet on her way to the refresher, she notices Fett warily peering out from the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

Boba Fett, the famed Boba Fett, actually jumps at her words, hushing her as he continues to peer in the direction of the cockpit. She wrinkles her brow in confusion and glances towards the cockpit as well, wondering what exactly she should be watching for. 

~~

A few moments later, Cara notices that there is not a soul in sight, and she rises to her feet, determined to figure out where everyone has disappeared to. A quick sweep of the hull doesn’t reveal a sign of Mando or Fennec, so she decides to check the hallway on the other side of the hold. As she rounds the corner she notices both Fennec and Fett peering out of the doorway of what appears to be a supply closet.

Her eyes narrow as she stares them down. “What---”

Both Fennec and Fett shush her immediately, their gaze fixed upon the cockpit. Thoroughly bewildered, she too looks towards the cockpit, worried that something has gone awry. 

~~

Meanwhile, you are sitting in the cockpit, trying to scrape your jaw off of the floor as you examine each of the control panels. This really is one unique ship. Just as you are taking a closer look at the targeting instruments, a voice breaks through your thoughts.

“I know what to say to her now, Fett. I will tell her that she means everything to me, that she means more to me than I can ever put into words.” 

You are completely dumbfounded. Does Mando know who he just said that to? 

Fett...that sneaky little bastard...he set you two up, didn’t he. 

Well, you are not one to look a gift taun-taun in the mouth, so you take off the helmet, stand up, turn around, and level your gaze with Mando’s. 

“The feeling’s mutual, vod.” (Comrade)

He panics, because one second he’s standing in the cockpit, and the next he’s disappeared from sight. The clang of beskar meeting durasteel, along with a grunt of pain, echoes through the hold as you drop the helmet and scramble into motion. 

You rush to the top of the ladder, staring down at Din’s splayed out form in shock. A snicker breaks the silence and your gaze flies to the hallway where your other three companions are smothering laughter into the palms of their hands. You can’t help yourself, the ridiculous sight has you falling into a fit of giggles as well. 

“This is not funny!” Din’s voice echoes through your head.

The abruptness of his statement startles you, and one second you’re standing on firm durasteel, the next you’re falling through the air as you too plummet towards the flooring at the base of the ladder. Except you don’t hit the floor. You hit two warm arms that absorb most of your fall, then a beskar-clad chest. 

A pained grunt escapes Din’s helmet. 

“You’re heavy.”

“Yeah? Well you are busted, Mando.”

“Busted?” It sounds like he is still straining for breath.

“Busted.”

More laughter peals through the recycled air of the hold, and you and Din turn simultaneously to fix all three of your crewmates with a glare. 

“You see what you’ve done.” 

“It’s not my fault you're clumsy, Din.”

“Clumsy? You’re the one who fell on top of me!”

“You shouldn’t scare me all the time!”

“Are you two gonna get up, or are you just gonna lay there on the floor?”

“Cara!” You exclaim, your cheeks bursting into flames. 

“I can’t wait till this mission is over, you all need some serious help.” Fennec grumbles, but she’s hiding a grin as she stomps to her chair, retrieves her rifle-just a precaution, she mumbles-then enters the fresher. 

As for Fett, he has a shit-eating grin on his face, and you can’t help but notice that he looks like a proud father.

“Well, Mando, I think we solved your problem.” His grin falters a little. “Or, at least, one of your problems.”

Fett shoots you a wink as he steps over your prone form and ascends the ladder. “Good luck with that one, you’re gonna need it.”

Cara also walks past your sprawled out bodies, taking a seat as she pointedly looks away from you and out the viewport. 

You look down at Mando, a soft smile overcoming your features when you notice he’s been staring at you. One of the hands that was used to brace your fall is now settled on the small of your back and it holds you firmly to his chest. The other hovers in the air beside your left ear, hesitating, and you give it a glance out of the corner of your eye. You so desperately want him to touch you with that hand, just like you’ve always imagined. So you give him a little nudge. 

“Could you brush that piece of hair out of my eye for me?” It’s practically a whisper as you refrain from shattering this tender moment.

A shaky exhale rattles from beneath his helmet, and then his hand moves slowly to fulfill your request. Seconds drag by like hours...and then his touch finally greets your skin. With a tenderness that is so shocking it hurts (has he thought about this too?) the tips of four fingers meet your forehead, sliding down your temple oh so slowly until they glide through your hair, finally curling around the shell of your ear as any stray strands are tucked away. 

You shut your eyes for a moment, every nerve ending fizzling out in complete bliss as you bask in the warmth of his touch. Neither of you move for a long while, and you would think he’d fallen asleep if not for the incessant chatter that hums through your mind. 

“You’re smiling.” His voice surfaces through the haze of thoughts. 

“I know. I can feel you, your voice, your thoughts...I thought you shut me out.” 

“Never.”

You open your eyes and he is still in the same position as before. His hand curled behind your left ear, his visor staring up into your face, and the hand on your back still radiating the same warmth. After another shaky breath, he drags his hand down the side of your face, curls it around the back of your neck, then slides it upward over the base of your skull. Each movement is drawn out, as if he’s moving in slow motion. You both know that he’s only trying to prolong this moment, along with each gesture, for as long as he possibly can.  

It’s your turn to sigh when he bends your head down, closing the distance between your faces so that your forehead rests against the top of his helmet. Your palms, that had previously been supporting your weight, abandon the floor to splay themselves over Din’s beskar chestplate instead. The closeness is suffocating in the most beautiful way, and you’re sure that if he wasn’t wearing a helmet you would be begging for a kiss by now. 

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

His voice has you blushing, but you can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

“I can’t help it. You’re just too damn hot to handle.” It’s meant to tease him, but the response you receive is the complete opposite of what you expect.

“Yeah, especially when I’m fighting, am I right?”

There is a dramatic pause while your brain stalls to a grinding halt. “Were you listening earlier, Din? Why the nerve--”

He backpedals immediately, trying to reconcile his previous statement before you decide to jump up and clock him in the head. “Do you know that we’ve been kissing this whole time.”

Huh? Kissing? Your lips haven’t even touched! He must have hit his head harder than you thought. 

“Are you coherent right now?”

He chuckles fondly, the sound echoing through your mind, and you’re sure it's the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “This gesture, our foreheads touching...it’s called a keldabe kiss. Since my people do not remove their helmets, that is how we show affection to our loved ones.”

“Oh.” You can feel his nerves pulsing through your mind. “It’s perfect.” A searing warmth blossoms throughout your whole body, and you know it is the result of his happiness. “Will you tell me--”

Fennec emerges from the fresher and shocks you two out of your stupor. “Are you two going to stop gazing into each other’s eyes and take a seat?” 

Fennec and Cara both share a chuckle at the way you and Din jump at the sudden intrusion. You are too immersed in your lovey-dovey emotions to even glare at them so you just huff in response. A glance towards Din’s helmet doesn’t reveal much about his current thought process, so you rely on your bond and just let yourself feel. 

The emotions he possesses are so powerful they are blinding, so you guide yourself to his loudest most current thoughts.

“...how’d I get so lucky? I wonder if she will let me kiss her again.”

You just shake your head fondly. “Come on Romeo, let’s go sit down.” You offer a hand once you are standing, and he grumbles, eventually taking it even though you both know he requires zero assistance to lift himself from the floor. He doesn’t release you though, even when he reaches his seat and settles into the chair. Just as you’re about to turn and return to your own seat, he tugs on that hand and sends you barreling into his lap. A wide-eyed look of shock is the only expression you can manage as you fumble to keep yourself on his lap without tumbling to the floor. 

And now he’s laughing into your bond again...great.

“Stop laughing and help me, you buffoon!”

Din quells his chuckling and finally moves to help you right your figure. His hands attempt to settle you into his embrace, but he can’t help but notice that you still seem uncomfortable. He looks to Cara for help, only to realize that her gaze is still directed out the viewport. Instead, he looks to Fennec, and the gaze that she eventually gives him screams you’ve got to be kidding me. He glares at her from beneath the helmet, raising a hand in desperation as he gestures towards you. Fennec glares back, and then mimics the pose of a droid, with her arms out, legs limp, and an impassive gaze on her face. Then she gestures back towards him. He gets the hint immediately, blushing red beneath the helmet, and nods his thanks. She just waves him off and continues to polish her rifle. 

For the first time in his adult life, the Mandalorian slouches in his seat. His spine rounds as he curls himself around your form, providing a protective shell around your body. Both hands guide you into a sideways position, similar to a wedding carry-he blushes even harder at that realization-and then he tucks your head into the crook between his helmet and chestplate, where his cloak will cushion your head. You give him a sleepy smile and snuggle closer to his armored chest, looping an arm around his neck as you get comfortable. 

“So will you tell me what it means?” You attempt again.

“What does what mean?”

“Verd’ika.”

“It means ‘little warrior’.”

The smile that overtakes your face is almost blinding. You fall asleep with the echo of that thought in your head, and wake up to the gentle snores of a certain Mandalorian. There’s an incessant needling in the back of your sleep-addled brain. There’s no way Din would have fallen asleep with the rest of the crew watching. You blink your eyes open, and panic a little bit when you realize that hold is quite a bit darker than earlier. There are a couple blinking lights from the cockpit that shed some light on the room. And after a second, you scan the area only to realize that there is no one else in sight. 

Abruptly, your back twitches in pain and you realize that Mando’s vambrace is digging into your back. You shift slightly, trying to adjust your position without leaving your warm perch. Din mumbles in his sleep, shifting a little bit at your movements, and it causes the hand you slung behind his neck earlier to thwack him rather violently in the back of the head. He shoots to a standing position immediately, and you squeak, clutching onto him like a koala as he nearly sends you hurtling towards the ground. 

His blaster is drawn in a second, and your sluggish mind struggles to connect with him through your bond in order to calm his frantic motions. He must break out of his trance before you are able to form a connection, because he suddenly settles back down into the chair with a tired exhale. 

“Sorry, you startled me.” He apologizes.

“It’s ok.” 

He adjusts you into a more comfortable position, fussing as he tucks you back into his chest. You just hum against his neck, basking in the warmth that he produces. Surprisingly, the beskar itself is also warm, and you note that it must maintain the same temperature as his body. 

“We landed a little while ago. The others left to enjoy a night on the town, they won’t be back for several hours.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Are you even awake?” 

“Yes.” You respond as you peel an eye open. The adorable way Din is tilting his helmet to look at your face sends a wave of affection blossoming through your chest. But, as cute as he looks right now, you really want to be asleep.

“Since we have a moment, I want to talk about what happened today.”

That has your attention, and you’re fully awake in seconds. 

“I know that we disagreed on a couple things today. And, we have both made implications about our feelings, but I want to lay everything out on the table so it is one hundred percent clear.”

You nod in agreement. 

“You and the child will always be the first priority to me. No matter what. Mandalorians value their clan, their family, above all else. You and the kid are my family.” He cuts himself off, voice cracking a little as he tries to continue.

You rush to fill the silence, eager to reassure him of your own feelings. “You and the kid are my family too Din, and I would not have it any other way. I know that you didn’t give me the mission earlier because you were worried about me. And, I know that you had to remove your helmet because there was no other way to locate the little one. I am sorry I didn’t support your decisions. I was bitter and hurt, but I won’t make that mistake again.”

A sound, like that of a choked sob, escapes Din and your heart squeezes in pain. Before you can finish, he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) I am so sorry, I didn’t even think about how you would feel.”

“No! Don’t apologize, I am the one apologizing to you.”

You are both laughing through your tears, and you clutch at his hands with both of yours. 

“I love you Din, I love you so much, and I will always support any decision you make.”

“Ner verd’ika, ni kar'tayli gar darasuum. (My little warrior, I love you) You hold my heart in your hands.”

At that admission, you feel a burning desire to kiss him, but you settle for resting your forehead against his helmet instead.

“I seem to recall that you promised to ‘kick my ass’ once we landed.”

“Stop it, you’re ruining the moment.” You rebuke him as you shove half-heartedly at his chest.

“I think you’re wimping out, ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) You don’t think you can beat me anymore?”

How dare he tease you. The nerve of this man.

“No, I’ll still kick your ass anyways. I hope you won’t be too embarrassed when I school you in front of everyone else tomorrow.” A smug smirk stretches across your face as you finish speaking.

“You’re quite feisty, my dear.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

He grumbles beneath the helmet, neither denying nor acknowledging your statement. 

“I never realized you had such a dirty mouth.” The words are directed through your bond, and you can’t help but notice that the tone is a little suggestive. His words have your face erupting into flames.

Your Mandalorian has some real nerve.

~~

Ending Notes: I am actually really happy with how this turned out. Multi-chapter stories are a little intimidating and I admire all of you writers that can juggle several multi-chapter stories at once. I hope that this did the whole un-masking/face reveal thing justice while still staying as true to Din’s character as possible. ALSO, if I messed up any of the Mandalorian culture/lore stuff, please let me know. 

~~

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Congrats on 2k!!! Everything you've written so far is *chef's kiss* 😘👌 But there hasn't been enough (mirror!)Pike for my tastes... 👀 So I would like to request putting a hand over the other's mouth to shut them up & angry kisses (and also maybe holding the other's chin up?) with Mirror!Pike (or prime Pike if you prefer 😊)

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 2K Follower Celebration Notes: Thank yooou 🥰🥰 I went Mirror!Pike 👀 Rating: T Warnings: Cursing, angst, kissing

You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t been in competition with Christopher Pike. The two of you had always strived to beat one another. It was a race to see who could become a lieutenant first (you did), who would become a lieutenant commander (he was), who would be the first to get a position on the Bridge of a starship (he was), who would be the first to become the Captain of their own Starship (you were). 

You were two of the Emperor’s most ruthless Captains. Where others were more set on making shows of loyalty, putting scares into their crews, both you and Christopher had complete loyalty from yours. The Emperor knew what you were capable of; you didn’t need to concern yourself with pointless competition with your fellow captains. 

Apart from one particular captain, of course.

-- You tended to send crew members on missions— you remained on the Bridge, oversaw things as they needed seeing to. But when Pike had appeared on your viewscreen and issued you a challenge for a planet that the Emperor had ordered cleared. You’d already arrived, and set to clear one half of the planet, but— “Leaving all of the fun to your ensigns?” He’d asked, a teasing smile curling onto his lips, “Surely you can't have lost your touch, Captain.” There was no one in the galaxy that could get under your skin the way Christopher Pike did. 

--

It had started out as a challenge. It always did with the two of you. But as things had cooled, as you’d heard back from your respective crew that they were finding fewer and fewer lifesigns, the two of you seemed to actually relax a little bit. And it was absurd, to think that you were relaxing in his company. You were still goading one another, certainly, but it was fairly less contentious than it had been previously. “Perhaps you haven’t lost your touch entirely,” Pike said, peering around the two of you, your phasers at the ready. “Entirely?” You scoffed, “It’s a wonder to me that you can manage to leave your quarters, considering the amount of grey you’re sporting these days.” “I didn’t know you were taking such stock of my hair.” You hated to admit it yourself. You’d taken stock of far more than that, frankly, but you were not owning up to that anytime soon. “‘Taking stock’ is an exaggeration, Pike,” You scoffed, glancing around. “You’ve paid enough attention to mark a change.” “Well, I knew you back when your hair was entirely dark. One day you turn up on my viewscreen looking like Father Time. You’d note a difference, too.” You heard Pike winding up to answer you— but he never said anything. You glanced back at him, brow furrowing and ready to ask if his dentures had slipped, but before you could he shoved you back against a tree, bracing you against it, his hand covering your mouth. “Sssh,” He urged, murmuring, “Listen.” Your brow furrowed, torn between anger and confusion— before you heard Klingon Warbirds dropping into the atmosphere. You glanced up, peering through the wilted tree line to see a few hovering near where the two of you had been standing. What were they waiting for? “We need to get back to the landing parties,” Pike mumbled, reaching for his communicator. You jerked your head out of his hand, eyes narrowed at him. You were pissed, he’d wanted a challenge— and you wanted to stop thinking of the long line of Pike’s body pressed up against yours. “There can’t be any more than three there,” You said, peering up at him, “We can take them.” Pike opened his mouth to argue, but you twisted out of his hold. “Come on, Pike,” You cooed, raising your Phaser, “Surely you haven’t lost your touch.” -- “It is a joy to see the two of you working together with such efficiency,” The Emperor cooed over the viewscreen in Pike’s ready room. We’d beamed aboard the Enterprise once the planet had been clear and we’d been informed that she wanted to speak with us both. “For your glory, Emperor, I could find it in myself to work with anyone,” You smiled sweetly. You heard Pike huff out an irritated breath beside you, and you fought the urge to look at him and smile. The Emperor just chuckled. “We will speak again soon. It is heartening to know that I can call on my Captains in my hour of need.” The two of you saluted her before the viewscreen flickered off. The image had hardly gone dark before Pike ordered, “Out.” The surrounding officers began to file out of the room, and you turned away to follow, but Pike’s hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You stilled, glancing down at it before you looked up again, catching your first officer’s eye. She was already reaching for her phaser, but you raised your hand, halting her before she could cause trouble. You nodded her out, and she hesitated before she saluted you, leaving. You stayed facing the door, watching the rest of the room file out before you spoke up, “I’ll thank you to let go, Pike.” “That was a stupid stunt that you pulled.” “It’s nothing that we didn’t do when we were in the lower decks—” “Warbirds against phasers—” “And we took them, Pike. Now let go.” You tried to shake him off and his grip tightened. You could not abide by that. You reached into your jacket in a flash, using your free hand to pull out a knife. You twisted a little, reaching across yourself to press it to Pike’s throat. But he was moving just as steadily— he held his neck still as he switched the hand he was gripping you by, his hand now coming up to hold you by the chin as well. You clenched your jaw, eyes narrowing at Pike. “...Put the knife away,” He murmured. “Let go of me.” “You’re not going to kill me.” “You don’t know that.” “You won’t. You would’ve by now if you were going to.” He loosened the grip on your chin just a little bit, as he shook his head slowly, wary of the knife. “...What you did down there,” He says softly, “Was reckless. You almost got yourself killed.” “Oh, you would’ve been fine?” “I was not worried about myself,” His grip tightened on your forearm, and you hissed, pressing the knife a little harder against his neck— though not hard enough to draw blood. “You should know by now, PIke, the only person that you should ever be worried about is yourself.” Pike was quiet for a long moment, eyes searching your face. “You wouldn’t have cared if something happened to me?” He murmured. You couldn’t answer that— you’d known him for too long, he’d surely know that you were lying if you told him no— “Let go of me,” You ordered quietly. “Answer me and I’ll let go.” “Pike—” “Tell me—” “Christopher—” You snapped. He let go of your forearm and reached up, twisting the knife out of your hand. It clattered to the floor as he surged in, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You managed to wrench your hand out of his hold then, reaching up and gripping his jacket, keeping him close. Christopher’s arm wrapped around you, the both of you turning face one another properly. Every kiss was a fight— biting, and rough. Neither of you were giving an inch— neither of you were willing to let the other win. Even now, you were competing. You hardly noticed that you were moving. You suddenly felt the edge of Christopher’s desk hit the back of your thighs. You reached up, winding a hard through Christopher’s hair and giving it a sharp tug. Christopher moaned against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips. You kiss broke for just a moment— before Christopher could pull away, you leaned up, taking his lower lip between your teeth and tugging. He rumbled low in his throat before he pulled away fully, looking down at you. “... Tell me you wouldn’t have cared if something happened to me,” He ordered. You swallowed thickly. “I can’t,” You breathed. Your head lowered, tired and dejected, and you felt Christopher step closer. His lips brushed against your forehead, and your eyes closed. “...I do not look like Father Time,” He mumbled. You grinned, unable to help yourself. “You’re no spring chicken, Pike.” He gripped at your chin harshly, tipping your head and covering his mouth with yours before you could say anything else. 

[razorblade180-heated]

Tension

[Shameless Smut]

Tension, a term Jaune was familiar with. Between Pyrrha pushing his muscles, Oobleck his mind, and the stress of school in general, Jaune and tension had become good friends. Instead of the norm though, tension came in the form of Nora’s well sized chest pressing behind him as he tried to write. A couple days into November and she was cracking. They had both decided to try the challenge and of course, it wasn’t going too well. Nora had all but succumbed to the idea of returning to their routine of frisky behavior.

Jaune tried to stay strong. But the nibbling on his ear and Nora’s hand rubbing his chest under his shirt. He let a tiny groan that made Nora giggle. “That’s it Jaune...let’s relax a little, and forget this challenge.” The sensation of her breath that close gave him chills.

“Last time I checked, this was your idea Nora. Stick by it.”

Jaune tried moving but her but it didn’t work. Nora was on a mission to get some. “Listen, I’m glad you’re so dedicated to my dumb idea; it’s what makes you a great leader. I need you to abandon all of that right this instant.”

“But I’m doing so well. I’m productive. Just look at all the work I’ve-gah!” He wasn’t expecting Nora’s warm hands to start going south. Both of them found their way under his sweatpants and took ahold of his steaming rection length.

“You can’t be too productive like this now can you?” Nora said, stroking him lightly. Doing this challenge was her dumbest idea yet. Nora didn’t understand why she thought this would be easy. Her, the most energetic and into sleeping with her handsome boyfriend. Feeling Jaune in her hands after several days was kinda...intense. Maybe it was her imagination but everything felt a little newer.

“You feel so hard and heavy. Already backed up? That’s not good. Nora bit his neck lightly and began stroking his shaft faster. Jaune finally put down his pencil and hitched his breath. She could feel his resolve break. “Jaune, I wanna ride you so bad~”

“You’re so not playing fair Nora. Just get off by yourself.” His composure was hard to take seriously with his cock basically throbbing. It may have been a few days but with the way him Nora did things, it might as well have been a week already. “Nora...please….” Jaune begged. His naughty girlfriend still refused. Instead she pulled out his chair from his study fest a little more and got on her knees. Nora fully whipped out Jaune’s sizable member and blushed the moment it sprang out, hitting her face briefly. Jaune watched the girl stare up at him as her lips pressed against the base of the shaft and sucked lightly. She then used her tongue to give a painfully slow lick up to the tip and winked.

“I refuse to believe this challenge is more important to you than this view right now. I know I’m being selfish but hey, you make me feel really good.” She said sheepishly, not meaning to get all mushy. “Still wanna stop?”

Jaune looked at his girlfriend with flustered intent. How could she ask that after what she just did!? Still, he did wanna know just how strong his resolve was, so he hatched an idea. “Why don’t I just help you get off then and not cum myself? My hands and tongue good enough for ya?”

“Hmmm, I guess we’ll just have to find out. You honestly think you’re that good?” Nora challenged. They’ve only been with each other two months. She remembered both of them fumbling so hard the first time, especially Jaune. He’s definitely improved since then but they’ve never tried only doing oral.

Jaune stood up and pulled up his pants to Nora’s dismay. The gentleman helped Nora stand up, before pushing her onto his bed, earning a yelp. “Yes…”

“Ooo, confidence. So far so-” Jaune pressed his lips against hers before she could finish. The feeling of his tongue invading her mouth made her quiver. Jaune pulled away to begin assaulting Nora’s neck, slowly working down. “Mmmm, yesss” Nora moaned. She raised her arms to remove her ‘boop’ shirt and let out another yelp as Jaune pulled down her shorts. For someone who only wanted to give, Jaune was acting pretty aggressive. “Someone eager to taste me?” Nora spread her legs for him. Her wet panties slipped off with her pesky shorts. Strands of her arousal clung to Nora’s shapely thighs as her hand dipped down to rub her sensitive flower.

Jaune gulped at the lustful sight of Nora’s hands becoming slick as she moaned with each rub. Her fingers spread her lips and even more of Nora began to flow out. He didn’t think she’d be this wet. This wanting of him.

Nora was equally surprised. The slightest graze against her clit made her body ache in the best way possible. Every nerve felt light lightning and seeing Jaune stare so intensely at her body made it worse. “Jaune…?” Nora moaned, gaining his attention. “Still just wanna use your hands and tongue?” Her spare hand started groping her left boob as she slid one finger inside herself. Automatically, Nora moaned with her hips bucking into her hand. “Because I don’t…”

Jaune was left speechless as he watched Nora finger herself. To an Arc, resolve meant a lot. It was a pride thing. A way to test yourself to the highest degree. Jaune was highly considering changing his last name. He removed his pants and shirt to see Nora give him a very excited smile.

“About time. Don’t worry, there’s next year.” She opened up her arms and welcomed her dorky boyfriend into a big embrace. She was once again caught off guard by a passionate kiss that served as a distraction. Lightning struck again through her body from the full feeling of a Jaune sliding deep inside of her hot and soaked pussy. “Mmmmph!” Jaune started rocking into her.

He couldn’t believe just how tight he was right now, or how wet. Jaune moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “I can’t go easy on you.” That alone made her feel even tighter.

“Fuck me up…” Nora whimpered. She felt his hands grab the back of her thighs and Jaune. Moved her legs until Nora could was staring up at her own knees. Her own heart skipped the moment she realized what position he wanted. “Oh fuck…” Jaune pulled his hips back slowly before plunging straight down into her. “ Oh fuck!” She screamed. “Give it to me Jaune!”

He was more than happy to. Jaune wasted no time pounding into Nora repeatedly, filling the room with the sound of their intense pent up session.

The only thing dwarfing the wet sound of Nora submitting to a mating press was the beds rattling. There’s never been a time their sex didn’t feel good, but Nora could feel a tangible difference this time around as she gripped the sheets and shut her eyes tight. Was it Jaune’s previous reluctance? Putting on a show for him wasn’t new but asking, no, begging for him to join was different. The look he gave her. That desire to fight the urge let her body seduce him. Nora never knew being tempting could be so alluring.

Her eyes briefly opened to see Jaune’s developing muscles shine with the sweat he was working up. His chests rose and fell with each deep plunge that Nora found numbingly good. She grabbed a hold of his forearms to brace each impact. Nora desperately wanted to speak but she found herself mimicking his deep breaths instead, her face turning to the side to bite down on the cover. His stare was just too much. Everything was too much.

Seeing the normally talkative and energetic teammate so meek and flushed made Jaune want to keep going. “You’re so beautiful.” Somehow, Jaune managed to move his right hand enough to turn Nora’s face back to him and kissed her hungrily. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

Nora let go of his arms and wrapped them around his neck again. Her hands ran through his slightly damp hair and held Jaune close. It was impossible to tell how long they’ve been like this, but the building pressure inside her that was wonderfully reaching new heights told Nora that her and Jaune wouldn’t be like this for too much longer.

“Cl..close…” She panted. “I’m so close…!” With the way she could feel Jaune twitch inside her and knock on the entrance to her womb, he wasn’t lasting much longer either.

“Want me to pull out?”

“Whatever you want!” Nora cried. Her climax came not even seconds later. Nora’s entire body tensed underneath Jaune’s. The only thing keeping her from screaming was biting down on Jaune’s shoulder, hard. It was a good thing he had aura in spades.

Jaune kept thrusting into Nora’s tightening walls until he had reached his end too. As much as he wanted to fill her up, he repressed the carnal desire and pulled out, shooting thick strands of clouded white all over Nora’s flushed chest and even a little on her face.

“Whoops…. sorry about that.” Jaune went to reach for a rag but Nora had already decided to wipe off her very healthy boyfriend’s spunk with her finger, then letting it fall into her mouth.

Jaune could only watch Nora do an exaggerated gulp before smiling at him seductively.

“Why use a towel when I can get that look from you with one simple move?” Nora giggled. She wrapped her arms around Jaune to pull him in close. Even after what they just did, the skin to skin contact made her jolt with pleasure. A glance down revealed she wasn’t the only person who was still up for more. “Look at that? And here I was thinking I wasn’t rocking your world. It took some effort to get you in bed. Not that I didn’t enjoy doing it.”

“You always rock my world. I just wanted to go one November to end in completion. Guess that’s never happening with you.” Jaune started attacking her neck with kisses and nomming.

Nora couldn’t control her laughter from the surprise assault. She eventually got him to show mercy. “Aww, don’t feel bad. Who cares about a challenge like that when you have a horny and loving partner. After all, I’m about to make it up to you right now.” Nora kisses his cheek before making him lean back to straddle him properly. “Told ya that I wanted a ride. My turn to do the leg work.”

Jaune blushed watching Nora bite her lower lip as she sat down on his dick. Both moaned in unison from the sensitivity from the first round. Jaune didn’t think it was possible, but Nora somehow felt warmer and slicker than before. His hands took a hold of her hips while Nora’s found a comfortable spot on his chest so she could lean forward a bit. Then, she rocked, teasingly slow. The back and forth motion almost seemed to pull him in deeper before playing with the idea of letting Jaune slip out. The pace slowly got a little faster, allowing Jaune to watch the sway and bounce of Nora’s boobs while she fucked herself.

“Yeah, I’m not lasting as long as the first time.” Jaune admitted. He started bucking up into Nora to make her gasp and see her thighs shake. Her lip bite became harder and her body flattened to lay on top of him, never breaking the rhythm they’ve chosen.

“S-same...ah! Same here…!” Nora had to make a mental note that doing anything after mating press was just asking for punishment. Not just her hips, but her knees and core was just in sensory overload. Jaune must’ve noticed just how much she was trying to keep control. His hands moved from around her waist to her ass, pushing and rocking it onto him harder to help her out. As well as provide sweet torture. “Fuck, aaah~” Nora feel him reaching the same spots from before. “You get so fucking deep…!” She whimpered.

Wet, sloppy sounds had returned to the room in full force. The two felt hot enough to burn the bed. Chests constantly rose and fell as repressed moans snuck out with everybody shift and love bite. Nora placed her face in the crook of Jaune’s neck. As much as she wanted an even spit of doing the work, her body had given up on that idea in favor of letting Jaune pump into her relentlessly until he was good and satisfied with her. A deep red blush came over her by the warm, wet sensation coating their upper thighs that was no doubt her never ending arousal for Jaune’s eager cock.

“H-Hey, cum in me this time.” Nora groaned, riding her waves of pleasure. Jaune only grunted, which she took as an agreement from the way he speared into her with a little more force. Nora only lasted several more thrusts before she milked Jaune of all he had to give. The sudden feeling of immense heat filling inside her body made it shake with pleasure. Finally, the two calmed down, lying motionless on the bed.

Jaune let out a tired chuckle. “Okay, you were right. This was better than any challenge. That...that was….” he couldn’t even speak right.

Nora smiled at her tired night and gave him a big kiss, filled with passion and endearment. “Yeah, it was. Several days and I got this out of you. I might actually be in trouble if I let you get pent. My fucking legs are done!” Her head rested on his chest. “Guess I gotta sleep this off.”

“Not a bad idea.” Jaune grabbed an end of his cover and flung it over their bodies. “Pyrrha and Ren shouldn’t have to witness this sight first thing through the door.”

“That’s my leader, always thinking.” Nora yawned. Her eyes fell slowly and relaxed her body onto Jaune’s. She could feel one of his arms secure her as she dozed off.

Jaune was only a few moments behind her. As usual, another failed attempt this year. Eh, worth it.

[lumau]

This week has been sth else, so I apologize for a lack of editing. Before this whole story goes up on ao3, I’ll give it all another polish. I wanted to get sth sweet out there, hopefully changing the rest of this week for the better... so this has all the fluff. :)

This comes after the events at the beach, here: https://lumau.tumblr.com/post/658330266893434881/a-small-sunday-treat-interlude-ao-shun-in-skimpy

❄🖤🤍❄

Li Ming followed the king down the corridor leading to his private rooms. Ao Shun had not seemed to want to dismiss him yet, so he simply went along.

After the walk on the beach the king had shown himself brooding, and not another word was lost about the somewhat odd end of their conversation. Li Ming was still turning the thoughts over in his mind, when they reached the entrance flanked by a pair of guards. Ao Shun turned to him, as if only now noticing that he was still behind him.

“Ah, Li Ming,” he said, “I will retire early, and should not keep you. However, as you are here now, I would ask you to do my hair for the night. I am not entirely satisfied with the way Xiao has been doing it lately.”

Li Ming gave a polite bow. 

“Of course, my lord. I will speak to Xiao tomorrow.”

Li Ming graciously set down the little tray and unfolded the white towel across the king’s shoulders. He had not been entirely surprised when Ao Shun offered him another task, one that would not involve the presence of other staff. He had done his lord’s hair numerous times before, mostly when they were traveling, but the familiar movements seemed to gain a different quality to him now.

He took a deep breath and steadied his hand, when he reached out to undo the long braid, parting the strands with his fingers, loosening them with care. He looked down on Ao Shun’s back. The way he was perched on the leather and chrome ottoman he seemed suddenly small, so much more tangible and real. Of course nothing about him had changed - he was still the immortal king, the feared and beloved dragon god of legends, eternal, majestic and untouchable. The only difference was in his own perception. Those new, less and less subtle thoughts, the sudden wish to run his hands over his shoulders in front of him and the suspicion that his touch would be welcomed even. Maybe, if he offered a massage? He simply would have to reach out… 

“Li Ming.”

Li Ming felt caught, blushing at the ideas he’d just been indulging. He quickly took the intricate ebony comb from the tray and gingerly began working it through the tips of the long, black hair.

“I have been meaning to speak to you in private.” 

The low, soft tone of Ao Shun’s voice touched a part in Li Ming’s stomach and made it clench in a flutter. He focussed on combing Ao Shun’s hair, carefully, higher up. Combing it, and smoothing its soft lengths with his fingers, and combing it... If he didn’t focus on the task, he didn’t know what else he should do.

“I have been imposing my attention on you lately, acting on the attraction I feel towards you, and I presume you have become aware of it too.”

Li Ming swallowed hard. If his heart was not stuck up in his throat, making it impossible for him to bring out a word, what could he even have said to that?

Ao Shun sat completely still, looking straight ahead out of the window. Only the rise and fall of his shoulders gave a sign of his flattened breath. Somehow this little sign of agitation in the dragon king made Li Ming even more nervous. Ao Shun heaved a deep breath.

“I admit I have not done well, and my actions were not right.”

Li Ming’s hands stopped moving. Whatever he had expected, the low growl and the hint of guilt in the king's voice was not it. He stood stockstill, staring unblinkingly at the hair he was holding between his fingers.

“A man in my position needs to be aware of his influence,” Ao Shun said, solemnly, “and I have let myself get carried away, making advances on you without addressing the matter openly. You are bound by your oath to me. Naturally you would follow along with anything I ask of you. I should not have allowed myself to mingle your obligation with my personal interest.”

Unwittingly Li Ming laid the comb down and took up a crystal flask. He spread some of the mildly scented oil on his hands and once more began working them along the tips of Ao Shun’s hair in thoughtful silence. 

“Don’t you have anything to say to that?” Ao Shun spoke up again after a moment.

“My lord… I appreciate your honesty. I don’t think you have done me wrong, and you have not done anything against my will.”

Ao Shun gave a little nod, encouragingly, but Li Ming was not sure what else he could say.

“And about what else I mentioned -” Ao Shun inquired tentatively, when nothing more came from him, “About the interest I expressed in exploring a more personal contact between us…”

Li Ming continued to run his fingers through the king’s hair for a long moment. He wondered if Ao Shun could feel the slight trembling of his fingers, just like he could sense the electrified tension in his posture. He should have been prepared for this moment, after all that had happened lately. It was not out of the ordinary that royal dragons might request closer company from their subordinates. Growing up at court it was something one simply learned among other things. Yet while Li Ming had entertained the idea once or twice, and maybe slightly more often of late, none of his envisioned scenarios had involved the careful and earnest manner in which the king addressed him, or the blank space in his head where his mind should have been.

“How could I decline this from you?” he finally managed, and knew immediately that that was not the right answer. Ao Shun sharply drew in his breath and twitched his head to look over his shoulder. He frowned up at Li Ming.

“I want it to be absolutely clear that this is beyond your orders,” he growled, “If I have given you another impression, I will need to rectify it.”

Li Ming flustered. His face was starting to burn again, and he was growing desperate with himself. He had not meant it that way. Why was it suddenly so difficult to think, making it impossible for him to express himself?

“I want to know what you want, Li Ming.” 

Li Ming swallowed. The only thing he could think of to say was the truth.

“My lord, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you want?” Ao Shun asked.

“I apologise,” Li Ming said quietly and averted his eyes, “I am afraid I feel confused right now, and that is my truthful answer.” 

Ao Shun considered him for a moment, then his expression brightened again.

“Are you willing to find it out together?” he finally asked with a smile.

Li Ming blinked a little surprised, then he nodded and smiled back. The words ‘find it out together’ echoed in his mind, leaving a warmer feeling and making him more at ease. 

Ao Shun turned his head back, and Li Ming remembered suddenly that he was still holding the lengths of his hair.

“When I ask you for something that you are uncomfortable with, can I trust you to say no to me?” Ao Shun asked, his voice soft again.

“Yes, my lord,” Li Ming replied with a smile.

“And will you also ask for what you desire from me?”

There was a longer silence after that. 

“… I can try.”

Li Ming felt much less confident at that, but for now Ao Shun seemed content with his answer.

Li Ming found that he was still smiling, as he added a few more drops of oil to his hands, almost a little light-headed. The previously anxious flutter in his stomach had turned into something warmer, friendlier now.

He rested his palms on top of Ao Shun’s head, and began moving the tips of his fingers in small circles along his hairline. A head massage was not necessarily a part of his evening routine, but from the deep sigh and the slight sagging of Ao Shun’s shoulders he could tell it was appreciated.

He slowly ran his fingers along to the back, and feeling suddenly elated after their conversation, let them trail down behind the king’s ears, drawing gentle patterns on the soft skin of his neck. This was definitely not part of the regular routine. Ao Shun gave another sigh and let himself sink back against Li Ming, dropping his head slightly back to let it rest against him. Li Ming could see the serene expression on his face, his eyes closed and his lips drawn into a contented smile. He almost regretted that he had not simply said “Yes.” to his earlier question, and wondered for a second, if he would dare to ask to kiss him now.

Then Ao Shun’s smile turned into a grin, and he sat up again, the warmth and weight of his body lingering for a few more seconds where he had leaned. 

“Please, Li Ming,” he said, “don’t raise the issue with Xiao. I’d rather you do my hair every night from now on, if I get that sort of treatment.” 

The mention of Ao Shun’s attendant brought Li Ming back into reality, and made him a little awkward at having slipped from his familiar role. He gathered Ao Shun’s hair in a loose bun on his vertex and fixed it with a hairband. He felt a small sting of regret when he was done and Ao Shun stood up. The king gave him a long look from under his lashes.

“Thank you,” he said simply, and Li Ming could tell that he only partly meant it for the hairdo. Once more he felt the sudden urge to reach out, or to say something to cross the space between them, but there was the ottoman in the middle and the lump in his throat and then Ao Shun blinked, and smiled, and Li Ming knew it meant Good Night.

Sitting in his own room an hour later, he was still too agitated to go to bed. He tried reading one of the new books on his shelf, but couldn’t bring himself to focus. Too much had happened today, and he kept replaying the events in his mind, alternating between furtive excitement and coy bliss and a bit of disappointment at what felt like a missed opportunity in the end.

When he had once more been staring at a page for an unknown amount of time, a polite knock on his door made him perk up. It was Xiao, who apologized for the late disturbance, but she had been sent by Ao Shun to call him up once more. While Li Ming had already shed his tie and loosened his collar, he had luckily not bothered to get ready for bed yet.

He found Ao Shun on his balcony, cled in his black and white silk robe and looking out over the nightly panorama. Li Ming’s heart had already begun to beat faster as he entered the apartment, but now his nerves seemed to stun him once more. How could it be that he kept finding himself lost for words so often these past days, with his extensive diplomatic training and experience? 

“My lord, you required my attendance?” he said, settling on a safe, formal approach.

When Ao Shun spoke, Li Ming could hear the smile in his voice and knew it was not an official call after all.

“The sky is so full of stars tonight. I thought you might appreciate it as well.”

He turned away from the railing to look at Li Ming unblinkingly, long enough to make him feel self-conscious.

“And I thought you would look beautiful in the light of the moon. I was right.”

Li Ming felt ice and heat rush through his veins again. He distantly heard himself stammer, “Thank you, my lord, it really is a beautiful night.” He was certain that his face must have gone deep red, and hoped it wouldn’t be too visible in the bespoke moonlight.

A slightly crooked smile curled Ao Shun’s lips, as he approached him.

“Allow me to be frank, Li Ming.” 

His voice was low and soft, humming with a deep tremor underneath it. 

“I could not get you out of my head. And I wanted to kiss you.”

The words hung between them in the air for a few long seconds. Li Ming’s heart was racing. When Ao Shun held out his hand to him, he automatically took it. There was comfort in the warmth of his touch and the slight shiver he could feel in the grasp. It gave away the king’s inner tension, while his expression remained one of calm confidence.

“You have not declined or turned away yet. I take that as a positive sign?”

Ao Shun took another step closer, until they were almost touching. Li Ming could sense the familiar energy he always radiated, felt the air between them prickle with electricity. He could see his dark eyes gleaming in the low light. He had never seen them so close up. He wanted to lose himself in their depth, but Ao Shun was watching him expectantly. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Ao Shun pursed his lips into a smirk and tilted his head.

Li Ming swallowed and muttered, “Yes, please.”

It had to be his voice, as the words came from his mouth, but he did not recognise its tone. The soft smile was back on Ao Shun’s face, and when he leaned in and their lips met, Li Ming stopped thinking altogether.

As Li Ming opened the door to his private rooms, he still couldn’t stop smiling. He did not know how much time had passed, but the moon was high now and shone in through the windows.

A part of him had wondered if (and maybe even hoped that) Ao Shun would extend his invitation even further. But he had said that he wanted to kiss him, and that was what he had done. And then they kissed again, and again, and some more when Ao Shun had walked him to the door. And they had both smiled widely, and Ao Shun had thanked him before wishing him a good night.

Li Ming felt giddy and drowsy, as if walking through a dream all the way back. He was vaguely aware of a different part of his brain that would in some distant future start nagging him about all the potential trouble he was getting himself into. But for now, the only thing he could think of were the sensations of those kisses he could still feel on his lips.