#not even united all relationships or else this would get very complicated very soon

[bwobgames]

Beebo's very clear and understandable recount of the events

[magics-neptunes-things]

You Make My Heart Fluttered

Hi guys!

This is a new Luna one, it's been a long time to be honest. And with all that happened those past days we need some fluff!

This is like a 4+1, so four times Lucy almost say « I love you » to Ona and the first time she said it.

Please enjoy ♥

TW : None, I think? Let me know if you find something.

21 May 2023

Lucy is biting her nails, scared to be spotted by some fans or the journalists. She has no reason to come to see this derby officially, she’s playing in Barcelona since this summer and was in Lyon before that. She hasn’t told anyone that she will be here, except the person she wanted to surprise maybe.

She regrets not to have been able to see Ona’s face, when she sent her the picture with her plane ticket and the one to entry to the stadium for this game. Ona and her aren’t really together, they are taking their time even if several kisses were already exchanged. But it was hard for them to see each other as much as they wanted. Lucy feels frustrated, even if she can call Ona when she wants and even if they are texting almost all day long.

Lucy wants for discretion soon get ripped, because no one other than Sarina Wiegman is suddenly patting her shoulder.

“Well, hello there! I didn’t know you would be here. Would you like to come sit with me?”

Lucy groans inside but still offer a smile to her coach and stand up to follow her. She was wearing only black clothes and was with her back turning Sarina, how the hell this woman was able to recognize her?

“It’s great that you take time to come support your national teammates. So, which one are you for? City or United?”

Several weeks before, Lucy would have answer Manchester City. But now her… situationship is playing in United and of course Lucy wants her to win. But there is no way in the world that she will say that.

“I’m neutral here, they both have amazing players.”

Especially number 2 of Manchester United, Lucy thought. And when the game starts, Lucy can’t help but keep looking at Ona. She’s amazed by the way she plays, her rapidity, her strength and her perfect vision of the game. She makes feel like everything is simple, but Lucy knows very well that it isn’t.

She smirks behind her hand when United scores in the very first moment of the game, her chin resting in her palm. It’s just before the end of the first half that Sarina talks to her about something not football related.

“So. Which one are you in relationship with?”

Lucy turns wide eyes in her direction and Sarina rolls her eyes while smiling.

“I know you.”

“Well… Ona Batlle, number 2. She plays for United.”

“And Spain. I know her, very talented and precious for her teams. I hope we won’t have to play against her and Spain during the World Cup.”

The World Cup is in several months and that’s why Sarina is here to look some players, Lucy realizes. It would have been clever for her to think about it before.

“We’re not in a relationship though” Lucy mumbles.

“How’s that?”

“We are seeing each other’s, but we are not together.”

“Your generation is too complicated. Why in the world two people interested in each other would not be together if they can?”

Lucy smirks and shrug. The point of view of Sarina is probably the same as her mother’s would be, to be honest. But Lucy never talked about Ona to her parents for now. She talked about it to her brother though, so maybe they know already about the Spaniard.

“It’s a real question by the way. Is it because you want to have other possibilities if you met someone else?”

“What? No, of course not.”

Lucy frowns while Sarina shrugs. They never told specifically to the other that they don’t want to meet someone else, for Lucy it was obvious. Is it the same for Ona? She hopes so, she never even asked herself the question.

When she received a picture from Jordan about her in the stands, she knew that people would know that she was here. They don’t have any possibility to know why, though.

Lucy still has a strange feeling in her stomach after the game. She looks with pride when Ona received the MVP trophy and she discreetly make her way where Ona asked her to meet her.

The Spaniard is glowing when she finds Lucy almost twenty minutes later.

“Holà Guapa” Lucy says, making Ona chuckles.

They hug each other and Ona takes the time to breath Lucy scent before letting her go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. Thanks for coming” Ona smiles.

“My pleasure”

“Are you hungry? We can go eat somewhere or go to my apartment to order in.”

They decide to go to Ona’s, thinking that they will be more at ease there. At least they won’t take the risk to met someone they know or fans that would post pictures of them on Internet. And to be honest, Lucy would rather have Ona only for her.

She loves Ona’s apartment. It’s pretty, tidy and smells like Ona. She feels like she finds back a small part of Barcelona in Manchester. They choose what to eat before Ona disappears in her bathroom to take a shower. She doesn’t know that she let Lucy alone with her thoughts, the idea of Ona seeing someone else burning in her head and stomach.

She’s not good at hiding her feelings, so Ona realizes as soon as she comes back that there is something wrong.

“Are you ok?” she asks with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine” Lucy lies with ability.

That’s what she thought. Ona raises an eyebrow while looking at her and Lucy bites her lips nervously. She scared about what that scare means. She knows very well how much Ona impacts her, but after her breakup with Keira she didn’t want to get close to someone else again. But it was before Ona came in her life and flops all her decisions upside down.

“It’s just…” she begins while Ona sits next to her. “Do you see someone? Other than me, I mean?”

Ona looks at her blankly before answering. The silence went only for five seconds but Lucy feels like it was three hours.

“Of course not. Who told you that?”

The younger one is frowning, and Lucy shakes her head softly.

“No one. It’s just that we never really said it to each other, so I was wondering if you were still interested about maybe meeting someone else?”

Lucy raises her eyes on Ona when she takes her hand in hers. Lucy has a cocky and funny side, but Ona realizes very soon how much her breakup made marks in her comportment.

“I am not interested in meeting someone else. I want to explore what we have and see where we can go together, if that’s what you want too.”

“It is” Lucy sighs with relief.

She feels like the world is suddenly of off her shoulders and it’s with a new assurance that she takes Ona chin in her hand to kiss her. It’s probably too soon to be in love with Ona. But she knows she is. She could easily say “I love you” but it’s really to soon.

July 2023

When Lucy proposed her to go on holidays together, Ona doesn’t have to think twice about it. Enjoying the sun with her favorite person? What can she ask for more? They choose to go to Mallorca, Lucy asked Mariona about somewhere they can go without being with a bunch of tourists.

They rent a villa with a swimming pool and a private beach, and Ona is almost bouncing on her feet while walking when she arrives at the Island airport. She came right from Manchester and Lucy from Barcelona, the English woman arrived early this morning while Ona’s flight was delay and is finally here at almost lunch time.

She’s spotted by some fans who ask a picture with her, before leaving the crowd of the airport to enter in a black car with tainted windows.

“Hola Guapa” Lucy smiles when Ona has closed the door.

“Hola Beautiful”

Lucy kisses her and Ona feels her heart fluttered like every time they kiss. They haven’t had seen each other from weeks now, both being very busy with the end of the season of their club and the World Cup who is coming.

They kiss some more times before Lucy starts the car to take her girl home. She can’t help but smile in front of Ona’s happiness, her personality having the same effect on her than a sun bath. She has to admit that she loses herself while Ona is still chatting about something, but only because she’s starring at the beauty she has in front of her.

“You’re losing it” Lucy said to herself

But then she takes another look at Ona. The younger girl is smiling while talking with animation about her flight. She is talking with her hands, the veins on it being sinful in Lucy’s mind. Her naturally tan skin is like glowing in the sun and she can’t wait for Ona to actually get a tan to see more freckles in her skin just to be able to kiss more of them.

Lucy knows very well that she couldn’t have ask for someone better than Ona. Everything seems easy and simple with her. She accepts each part of Lucy without any conditions or questions. Lucy knows that she’s not perfect, far from it, but Ona makes her feel like she is.

It’s a real ego boost and probably what she needed right now.

She retains the “I love you” burning her lips when Ona looks at her with her smile and ask “What?” when she realizes how much Lucy is starring.

“Nothing. You’re just so beautiful” Lucy answers.

Ona blush violently, making Lucy chuckles. She’s not playing fair maybe, but she likes seeing Ona becoming shy in front of her.

When they arrived at the villa, Lucy takes Ona’s suitcases in their room before grabbing her hand to show her every part of it. She had time to visit them while waiting for her.

“Everything is perfect” Ona smiles when they are near the swimming pool, in front of the beach and the sea.

“It is” Lucy smiles.

Ona, standing one meter in front of Lucy, doesn’t realize that Lucy isn’t looking at the view but at her, her eyes shining with love and admiration.

I love you, she thought.

20 August 2023

They lost. Lucy is still processing to admit that information, even if she saw the Spanish team receiving the trophy, this asshole of Vilda beaming like he was the one winning it. The only positive thing for Lucy is that the Spanish women will be heard about what they are enduring because of him and the RFEF. She’s pretty sure that the kiss stolen to Jenni Hermoso will make talk too.

She’s sitting on the bench, where the English team was during the game, silver around her neck. No one is next to her; she doesn’t know where Ona is. Lucy isn’t proud of her reaction when Ona tried to approach her after the final whistle. She almost run away from her, even if they promised each other that nothing would change their bond, no matter what the result is.

But she did, and she saw the sadness in her girlfriend’s eyes when she let Mariona recomfort her several minutes after. Ona made the choice not to come for her again and went to find Jenni and Alexia, the last one understanding pretty well what was going on. Ona hasn’t need to explain anything to Alexia, the pink hair woman just passed an arm around her shoulders to give her some comfort.

Lucy knows that Alexia has a soft spot for Ona, when she learned what was between them, she threatened the English woman not to move one ear otherwise she will be very hurt.

“Let her several minutes, she needs time to process. It’s not against you, don’t worry” Alexia wisely said.

Ona only hums in answer, playing without really thinking with her Captain’s fingers. It was before going for the Cup, and now Ona is in the changing room with her teammates and all she can think about is Lucy. She doesn’t know where she is, last time she checks, Lucy was sitting on the English’s bench.

She finally manages to escape Cata and her beers to go on the pitch. She doesn’t know if Lucy would have wait (for her or for anything) but she still has to be sure.

Ona doesn’t know if she’s more relieved or nervous to see that Lucy was still here, in her jacket, looking at the empty stands. She gulps before taking tentative steps towards her girlfriend and she froze when Lucy turns her eyes on her when she spots her.

Ona’s hesitation breaks Lucy’s heart a little more and she half stands up when she talks.

“Ona… Please, come.”

The steps the Spaniard takes less shy now and Lucy is looking at her with tearful eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have – “

“Don’t” cuts Ona while sitting next to her. “It’s ok, I understand.”

Ona’s empathy makes her tears more difficult to keep at bay. Lucy shakes her head and look at the ground, trying to put her feelings in the right order.

“It’s my fault” Lucy says brokenly. “I lost the ball and then Carmona was able to score.”

“None of that. Mary should have been able to stop the ball or one of your strikers should have scored too. You aren’t alone in this team, Lucia.”

Lucy shakes her head again. Those are the exact words she needed to hear, it’s like Ona is able to read her mind. It’s amazing and scary at the same time. She doesn’t realize that her tears are rolling on her face, but Ona does. Leaving her seat, she kneeled in front of Lucy to take her face between her hands.

“I feel like I let anyone down” Lucy whispers.

This time Ona passes her arms around Lucy’s neck, their faces closer that they haven’t been since their trip in Mallorca. Almost two months without a kiss exchanged and when they meet again it’s for breaking the heart of one of them.

“You didn’t let anyone down” Ona whispers back. “You were exceptional during the tournament, the best player of your team. You know as much as I do that your family and friends are really proud of you. I am proud of you.”

She doesn’t know what Lucy search in her eyes, but she lets her look at it the time she needed. They are in their bubble, forgetting the people around them and that there are photographs still in the pitch.

No one can see their faces and just when Lucy wanted to tell Ona those famous three words, the younger one close the distance between their mouths to kiss Lucy softly. It’s not the kind of kiss that you may share after being apart from your lover for two months. Ona’s kiss is sweet, delicate and so loving. Comforting.

They are disturbed several seconds after that kiss by someone walking in their direction. When Lucy raises her head, she realizes that it’s Mariona, who is smiling softly at them.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Ale sent me to tell you that there are still journalists around you.” Mariona says in Spanish.

Ona groans and Lucy rolls her eyes, but the Spaniard sit next to Lucy anyway. Using her jacket, Lucy takes Ona’s hand in hers while Mariona sits on her other side. Like other friends, Mariona knows about Lucy and Ona’s relationship. But Ona wanted to it to stay secret during the World Cup, not wanting to have comment about it from the staff or the Federation.

Lucy kept looking at Ona from the corner of her eyes while they are talking with Mariona. They are supposed to go back to their respective hotels after that, Ona will probably go out with her team to party. But she needs to find a way to have time with her girl. They will go to Menorca in several day before the season’s debut, only the two of them, but tonight she would love to have Ona with her.

Each team has a curfew, but Lucy will manage to make Ona enter her hotel and her room anyway. They didn’t talk about it to anyone. But they missed each other too much and Lucy smiles for the first time after the game when Ona will say that she “Would climb the ten floors to see you, if I need to”.  

August 2023

The hotel they rent has separated balcony and private swimming pools and it’s perfect that way because they almost never left their room. Lucy can only realize how much she is obsessed with her own girlfriend, not able to keep her hand off of Ona. Not that the younger one seems to complain about something, she is rather cuddly and touchy too.

Tonight, they finally decided to go out to eat something on a fancy restaurant Lucy spotted on Internet, but when Ona gets out of the bathroom in her white dress, hugging her body in every right part, Lucy almost jumped on her to rip her clothes off.

“Oh, come on” Lucy groans, throwing her hands in the air.

“What?”

Ona frowns, looking down on her outfit, persuaded that something is wrong. Her longs hairs fall on her shoulder and Lucy knows that it’s probably to hide the hickey she made last night even if they usually chose not to leave marks. She got a little lost in her feelings.

“How am I supposed to breath normally next to you, please?”

Realizing what Lucy meant, Ona smiles and arch an eyebrow while looking at her girlfriend.

“You must be joking right? Have you seen yourself, all abs and arms in display? You’re so hot that it’s ridiculous.”

Lucy smirks, before walking in Ona’s direction seductively.

“We still can cancel the restaurant” she says, grabbing Ona by her hips. “I’d love to order in and stay here”

“No” Ona laughs, putting one finger on Lucy’s lips when she went to kiss her neck. “You promised me the best paella in Menorca. We are going.”

Lucy whines and bites Ona finger slightly. The eyes of the youngest sparkle when she looks at her girlfriend. She seems so happy that Lucy feels her heart melt for her. Ona kisses her softly, stopping it the second when Lucy tries to deepen it.

“Behave yourself Lucia” Ona whispers before kissing her one more time to erase the pout on Lucy’s lips.

Almost a half hour later, they are at the restaurant. The view is beautiful, once again. Ona really like this place and she doesn’t hesitate to say it to Lucy. The latter smiles absently, looking at her girlfriend from the corner of her eyes. Even if it’s almost 8PM, the sky is still blue with the sun going under the sea.

They decided to share a paella and Lucy command them two Sangria. When the waitress left, she turns to watch Ona, just to see that she’s taking pictures of her with her phone.

“What are you doing?” Lucy smirks.

“Picturing the moment. It would be a shame not to have memories of you at that moment.”

Lucy rolls her eyes and take Ona’s chair with her hands to drag the new Barcelona’s signing just next to her.

“At least take one with me”

They in fact take more that one, even if Lucy will only share the ones Ona took of her alone. People don’t need to know that one of the others is her new wallpaper.

Even if it was hard at first to actually get out of their bedroom, they share a perfect moment. The food is perfect, the Sangria excellent (they actually ask for more), the view amazing and they both couldn’t ask for a better company.

When they come back to their room, several hours later, they both are a little tipsy. Lucy isn’t against a glass of wine from time to time, but Ona doesn’t drink a lot. She’s the one giggling, holding Lucy’s arm to be able to walk properly. And Lucy can only smile, she realized early in their relationship that Ona’s giggling is making funny things to her.

They managed to arrive in their room and Ona stumble to the couch, before lying on it, facing the ceiling. Once again, Lucy got struck by Ona’s beauty. She knows that she probably won’t be tired one day to look at her girlfriend’s perfection.

She is so in love.

It was stupid of her to try to fight her feelings in the beginning or to try to stop how fast and big they grow. She couldn’t ask for more or better.

She doesn’t say to Ona that she loves her right now, because they are tipsy and suddenly Ona’s turning her head with this special thing in her eyes that makes her head spin. So she just joins Ona on the couch to start what she wanted to do as soon as Ona got out of the bathroom some hours earlier.

22 October 2023

Lucy knows that it’s late today when she opens her eyes. The sun tries timidly to appear despite the shutters they closed when going to bed last night.

It was late, almost this morning to be honest. They played against Granada yesterday and after that Ona managed to convince her to go eat something in a restaurant. Unable to say no to her, Lucy followed her just to be surprised by a private restaurant, balloons, an “Per molts anys” garland and a lot of her relatives and friends. Her brother and his children couldn’t be here, but her parents and her sister were. Just like some of their teammates and friends.

Ona organized all of that, in addition to her training and her studies and Lucy’s mind blown. How did she managed to do that without her seeing anything? She didn’t have time to ask her the question though, she was way too busy having fun with her friends. Even if she kidnapped Ona to thank her with a kiss at some point of the night.

They won’t be together at Lucy’s real birthday, the national camps being at this date. Ona decided to surprise her girlfriend anyway.

When they got home, they both took a shower before going to bed. In several seconds they were out, and it was almost ten hours before.

Lucy is on her back while Ona is on her stomach, one of her hands on Lucy’s stomach, under her top tank.  It makes Lucy smile and she roll slowly on her stomach too, trying not to wake Ona up.

It’s not unusual for Ona to actually sleep in Lucy’s bed. It has, in fact, became their bed. At first, Ona wasn’t able to find an apartment who was good enough for her. So, her plan was to sleep to Aitana’s, but it’s safe to say that she must have sleep there three times.

She’s not even searching for her proper flat now, her belongings are standing next to Lucy’s and the English woman made place for Ona’s cloths in her closet. Even if Ona likes to wear Lucy’s clothes, just like right now. She’s wearing an old Manchester City jersey, with Bronze written on the back.

Ona wasn’t facing her, so she just has her head and long hair in view. But she strokes softly her hair, clearing the few strands she knows are obstructing Ona’s face. She restrains herself not to wake her, knowing that Ona loves her beauty sleep. That girl could sleep twelve hours non-stop and still take a nap several hours later.

When Lucy kisses her head, the Spaniard stirs and mumbles something in Catalan that Lucy doesn’t understand. But it still makes her smile. Her Spanish is much better since she’s with Ona, who even started to teach her Catalan. But not the “Sleepy from a beauty’s Catalan”.

After a big breathing, Ona turns her head to face Lucy, who start to stroke her face this time, drawing imaginary drawings between her freckles. It makes Ona smile softly and close her eyes again.

The amount of love, the strength of her feelings for Ona are too much. She feels like she will soon explode from affection for her. So, she just says it. For the first time.

“I love you.”

Ona’s eyes are suddenly wide open, looking at Lucy. The English smirks at Ona’s reaction, but in reality, her heart is beating fast. She never said that to Ona before and Ona didn’t say it either. They know obviously how much they care about each other. But never said it out loud.

“Did you lose your tongue?” Lucy laughs after several moments of silence.

“No, I just… Wasn’t excepting this”

“What, me loving you?”

Ona rolls her eyes; she remembers perfectly her confessions one night in Lucy’s bed about how much she rambles to some of her friends about the fact that the Lucy Bronze could be interested in her.

“More about you saying it at a random moment when I just woke up”

“There is nothing random in our relationship. And I should have told you sooner. I love you, Ona. T’estimo bojament.”

The Catalan part makes Ona’s heart fluttered and her smile is bigger than ever. She cups softly Lucy’s face with her hand to kiss her lovingly. Between two kisses, she managed to say

“T’estimo també”

[fandomscombine]

Baseless Jealousy

Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous!Fred Weasley

WC:2307

BG: Fred and y/n’s relationship is currently 3 years long strong. After a summer apart, it seems to be a 3rd party had become closer to y/n. Is it something that Fred has to worry about or is it just baseless jealousy?

a/n: The pairing the won for this fic is Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous! Fred Weasley, Thanks so much for voting!

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

--

You and Fred started dating 3 years ago. Fred would like to believe that the relationship is strong, other people believes it so too. However ever since the start of 5th year, something started to get on his nerves, or should he say someone.

See, Fred had noticed you getting closer to his Quidditch captain, Oliver wood. He didn’t want to blame it on the summer you two spent apart but he could quite help himself. You had spent the entire apart, no letters whatsoever. At first, he tried to be understanding, it was after all a summer you and your family spent in Italy while attending your aunt’s wedding, you had told him that this was the first time in 8 years that the whole side of your mother’s family was present as they were all scattered into various parts of the world. He understood the importance of family so he had let it slide that you and he hadn’t communicated in the past 2 months- besides, it must be really exhausting to overwork the owls to post cross country.

Which was why he was so excited to finally see you in person at Platform 9 ¾ on the first of September, to his dismay, you had arrived with Oliver Wood. Back then he had pushed his jealousy aside and concluded as a coincidence that you had turned up together at the barrier. You and Oliver are just friends, he told himself, and that was completely fine.

Fred had sneaked a hug behind you and whispered into your ear. ‘Had a great summer?’

You had jumped at the touch but once you realised who is was from you relaxed. ‘Ohh Freddie!’ You turned and hit his chest. ‘Don’t scare me like that!’ Earning a laugh from him. ‘I did, I had such great times catching up with my cousins! You wouldn’t believe how much trouble we almost got into. But of course.’ Your fingers played with the back of his head. ‘I missed having my love around.’

~

‘Hey love I’m off to Quidditch practice now.’ Fred informed, kissing your cheek. ‘Will you be there?’ Ever since you and Fred got together 3 years ago, you would go cheer him on during Quidditch practices whenever you can.

This year however, more are at stake.

During the semi-finals, Quidditch matches are dotted with professional quidditch team mangers in hopes to scout for potential recruits to join their team upon graduation.

It is rumoured that the manager for Puddlemere United would be attending the next match, Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor. Puddlemere United being Oliver’s favourite and dream team, he had been pushing the team with more frequent trainings then ever, hoping to perform the best game they would ever play, to further increase his chances to chosen to be part of the team.

You looked up from the letter you were writing. ‘Yep, just gotta make a quick stop to the owlery. I’ll soon you soon okay?’

~

Arriving at the owlery, a large parcel instantly caught your eye. ‘Oh mum..’ Examining for any potential damage, which thankfully weren’t any.

The barn owl nearest it hooted. ‘Alright! Alright! I was looking if there were damages.’ The owl flapped its wings in annoyance. ‘Here,’ offering your owl some treats. ‘You’ll need to store up some energy on the way back.’ Another hoot sounded, this time from a grey owl, that you recognised belonged too your mother. ‘There’s some for you too.’ After the 2 owls finished their food, you attached your letter your owl’s leg. ‘This is for mother, a thank you note on behalf of Ollie. I’ll write another when we see his reaction to this-I can’t wait.’ You bid the 2 birds goodbye, watching until they disappear unto the horizon.

Now you turn to face your major problem. You had thought that your mother would have had it placed in a box, rather what you got was a large parcel that is clearly wrapped with parchment, with no subtlety in hiding what it truly is.

~

You had finally manged to sneak the parcel into the Gryffindor boys’ locker room, though it had taken a lot more effort than you thought.

You were just leaving when you had bumped into someone.

‘oopf! Sorr-‘

‘y/n love! What are you doing here?’  Fred wondered, looking over your shoulder, trying to figure out what you were up to. ‘You missed the whole practice.’

‘ohh it’s nothing really----Ayyeee! Not so fast!’ You grabbed Harry’s shoulder, preventing him in enter any further. In all honestly, you hadn’t hidden Oliver’s surprise well, there aren’t a lot of hiding places in the changing room. Determined to not ruin the surprise, you need, you must get Oliver to see it first. ‘Had any of you seen Oli-‘

Right then you heard his unmistakably Scottish accent. ‘I’m just saying George, with this new and improve game plan, we are for sure going win the House Cup!’

‘Oliver!’ You shouted, pushing your boyfriend and Harry aside to reach him. ‘Come quick, I’ve got something to show you!’ With all your strength you hauled him to move faster.

‘What is it now y/n? Can’t you see I’m……..’ Oliver had come to a stop. Based on his sudden lack of complaining, you knew he spotted it.

‘It’s a gift from mum and dad. We thought it would future help your chances to be in the professional league.’ You noted. ‘I wasn’t sure which one of these was your locker, so I decided to just hide it behind the benches.’

Oliver hurriedly torn away the wrappings. ‘Oh my…. y/n! A FIREBOLT!’ He turned towards his teammates with eyes watery. ‘A FIREBOLT, A 1993 EBONY WOOD WITH BIRCH TWIGS FIREBOLT!’ He declared with glee.

Too caught up in your cousin’s precious reaction to your gift, you however had failed to noticed Fred displeasure.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick. So much for a girlfriend.’ He grumbled to George. ‘Excuse me.’ Shoving his broom to Harry, Fred walked out of the locker room.

The next thing you knew, you were spinning through the air. Oliver had lifted you in celebration, ‘Thank you y/n thank you so much!’ He mumbled into your hair. ‘Pass on my gratitude to Aunty and Uncle.’  

‘Wait? Did you just say Aunty and Uncle?’ voiced a very confused Harry.

‘Yea.’ Confirmed Oliver. ‘Y/n is my cousin.’

George’s bafflement turned into a startle. ‘You’re joking right?’

‘No, why would be joking George?’ You frowned. ‘Didn’t you know?’

‘Nope’ He replied, popping the “p”. ‘Now it clears everything up. Freddie is going to be--.’

‘Speaking of, where is Freddie?’ You scanned around, wondering where he might have gone to. Which was when you spotted Harry holding up not one but two brooms. ‘Harry…’

‘y/n listen…..Freddie is uhh ’ George was trying to come up how to break it to you gently.

When Harry blurted out. ‘He left.’

‘He whot?’ demanded Oliver.

‘He left, said something about being sick of his girlfriend.’ Commented Harry frankly. ‘owhh!’

Even though it would have been too late to stop Harry from spitting out more wrongfully worded sentences- the damaged has been done- It still made George happy to put some sense into him. Praying that a smack on the head would have made Harry shut up, George took control of the situation, hoping it could still salvage the weakening remain of his twin’s and y/n relationship.

‘Listen y/n. Regarding my idiot brother, you got to know that he, like everyone else in the room, had thought that you and Oliver were flirting with each other.’

‘eww!’ You couldn’t control your reflex.

‘yeah, his emotions got to the best of him when he witnessed everything that got down here and stormed out because of jealousy.’

‘Oh gosh.’ You head towards the door, you could see a red figure walking towards the castle, kicking at fallen leaves every now and then. ‘I’ve got to get to him.’

You felt someone grab your arm ‘No let me handle this y/n.’ voiced Oliver. ‘I’m part of this… complication after all, besides I bet Fred’s fuming right now and as your older cousin, I am willing to take the heat and make him see reason until he has finally calmed down to talk to you with a clear head.’ He explained reassuringly.

‘But---

‘No buts.’ Oliver kissed your forehead. ‘Stay here and send for him back so all this misunderstanding could be sorted out. Now…’ he addressed Harry to get his new firebolt. ‘I’ve got a relationship to fix.’ Oliver hopped on the broom and sped away.

~

‘Fred! Fred!’ Screamed Oliver.

Fred choose to ignore him, picking up his pace.

Leaving Oliver with no choice but to cut him off.

‘WEASLEY!’ Oliver jumped off his broom.

‘Get Out of My Way Wood!’ Fred raised his hand to shove the other boy away but met with resistance. ‘I SAID GET OUT!’ Fred tried to free his fist from Oliver’s grasp, but the older boy was much stronger.

‘Not until you calm down and listen to what I have to say.’

‘Fine.’ Oliver let go of him, he raised his arms high in surrender. ‘y/n sent you, didn’t she?’

‘No. I came here on my own will. I told her to stay behind to protect her.’ Oliver confessed.

‘To protect her?’ scoffed Fred. ‘From what? From me?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact.’

‘Oh of course, it’s HER who needs protecting and not me. Not me, after I see you both shamelessly act so close to one another, closer, might I tell you then her own boyfriend! If was as if I wasn’t there’

‘Fred,’

Fred brushed his hand away, ignoring Oliver’s interruption. ‘When did you two get so close anyway? You know at first, I tried to pass it off as friendship but as time when on, I could help but think-‘

‘Y/N IS MY COUSIN!’ blurted Oliver, unable to hear another person thinking that they were other than family. ‘THERE’S NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN US!’

‘what?’  

‘Apparently for some reason most of you lot don’t know. George and Harry were just as surprised too. But yes, y/n is my cousin, on my father’s side. My father and her mother are brothers and sisters. I thought with all these years we’ve known each other that you’d know we’re related. Guess I was wrong.’

‘I….I didn’t know.. I’m sorry.’

‘Apology accepted but we both know there is someone more deserving of hearing that apology.’ Oliver nodded towards the locker room. ‘She’s there waiting.’

‘Thank you, Oliver.’ He held out his hand. ‘Friends?’

‘Friends’ Oliver shook his hand, the stared straight into his eyes. ‘BUT…’

‘but?’

‘But if you hurt her again Weasley, you have me to answer for, that is of course after she’s done her share.’ Without another word, Oliver flew off, testing out his new gift.

~

Fred ran full speed ahead, praying that he didn’t completely ruin a wondering 3-year relationship with the girl of his dreams. Before entering the room, he conjured up a bouquet of your favourite flowers, hoping that could help out his image.

Testing the waters, he called. ‘y/n? are you in here love?’

‘In here’ you sighed. He hated hearing you so sad. He hated it more that it was him causing you to feel that way.

Cautiously he made his way to you with arms outstretched. You accepted the flowers, to that he let himself relax a bit, bringing them up to you nose, you noted. ‘They smell nice, thank you.’

Fred was grateful that you hadn’t scolded him off on his baseless jealousy, still he knew he had to apologize and win his girl back. Kneeling in front where you sat, Fred took your hands and poured out his heart.

‘Y/n, I am sorry. I made a huge mistake, I… I got jealous of how you had gotten close to Oliver this year.’ He confessed.’ Ever since the start of this year, I thought that Oliver was stealing you away from me. I thought that perhaps you two had something going on behind my back.’

Chuckling to himself he continued. ‘I didn’t even realise that you were cousins until he told me just now. I feel so stupid. 3 years together, 5 years of knowing you. It was so obvious.’ Fred closed his eyes.

‘Still, with my worries, I should have asked, asked what you and Oliver were.’ He stressed. ‘I should have come and talked to you, to sort this out like what a, healthy, trusting and understanding relationship would. But instead I keep all my doubts and insecurities brew, I went deep into my own conclusions that were without evidence, I let my jealousy get the best of me.’

Fred brought your knuckles to his lips. ‘y/n love, I’m sorry. I love you and if you want a space, I understand. But there is no a day in this world where I would not rather be back in your loving arms. I hope that you could forgive me.’

‘Freddie, I forgive you.’ You cup his tear stained cheek. ‘It was just a stupid misunderstanding.’

Gesturing for him to sit beside you ‘I thought it was common knowledge that Oliver and I are cousins. Apparently not. Yes, we weren’t that close before.’ You admitted.  ‘But we really did get to know each other in the summer. 5 weeks either being sounded by adult relatives or small children, we hung out often, being the only 2 cousins similar in age.’

You return back into a more serious tone. ‘Of course, I did wish you had voiced it out, we could have avoided this conflict altogether. So, promise me this. Whatever problems may arise, before we delved into our own assumptions, we would always talk it out. Alright?’

‘I promise.’

~

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

Tagging also all those who voted for the~Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous!Fred Weasley~ Thank you! @jenniweaslee​ @ najiler @ im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @ gweaslvy and the lovely anons!

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 1: Night

Liu Kang x Reader

This story contains spoilers from the Mortal Kombat 2021 movie so description and story will be beneath the cut. It's an angsty good time. Thanks @justariellove for workshopping titles with me!! Edit:: Changing the title. Beauty Through Ash will be the name of the series that this will be a part of.

Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

You are a warrior with the dragon marking and ink arcana. You had visions as a child. Complicated sexual history with Liu Kang and a romantic relationship with Kung Lao that lasted a few years after that had ended. Story takes place post-movie! It will be angsty. There will be yelling. There will be tension and smut (eventually, that's just me). It will be ridiculous. But fun.

This is a 'I have zero self control post' Enjoy!

A soft ringing rattled through your head and you hated every second of it. It was a tinkling sound, like metal brushing softly against metal.

A wind chime.

The most annoying wind chime that you had ever heard in your life. Your stomach was sour, like you’d eaten something funny the night before and as you turned in search of the cold side of the pillow, your stomach rejected being awake. The world spun even with your eyes closed.

What had you done to deserve this?

You tried to recall what had brought you to this point of misery. You remembered going downstairs in search of a stiff drink after you’d packed for your trip the next day but after that, things had gotten blurry. It was easy to get lost in liquor these days. You remembered some of the other monks coming to join you but after that, there was nothing. That was why your stomach was sick. Too much liquor. Not an entirely unfamiliar feeling the past few weeks. You’d often needed its help to fall asleep.

You leaned up on your elbow and felt something soft slip over your bare skin. Puzzling. No usual nightshirt, but something else draped over you instead. Oh, no.

Oh no.

You were naked.

You were very, very naked. Crap. You grasped the soft cloth and held it over you to keep decent. Shit. You were sore too. So much for wishful thinking that you hadn’t done something incredibly stupid.

You bit the bullet and opened your eyes but silently panicked at the shirt that was just barely draped over you and knew whose it was before you saw the body of the man lying next to you. A soot-stained shirt. Biting your lip, you prayed that you would turn your head and find an insane explanation for your clothing being gone besides the obvious.

Instead, you found the truth that you had already damn well known the moment you’d moved. Liu Kang laid passed out on the bed next to you, face turned away and completely naked. He had scratch marks down his back, and you followed them down to his perfect little butt and then covered your face and mentally cursed yourself.

Fuck.

Don’t panic. Deep breaths.

It was still dark out. You had time to find your clothes and get out of there before he woke, with any luck. His room was dark and you were dizzy so the odds weren’t in your favor. Head in your hands, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and felt the cold stone beneath your feet. God, you were so sore. What stupid things had you done? At least you were familiar with his room and the way back from it. Not your first walk of shame out of there, you reflected in disgust with yourself. Not that Liu Kang wasn’t attractive or fun as hell, it was just terrible timing.

You rested his shirt on the bed next to you and searched the floor blindly for your clothing. His room hadn’t changed much over the years. It had been that long since you’d found yourself drunk and naked in his bed.

You had been drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

You had clawed the shit out of his back though, he’d probably remember something about that.

You had to get up and go about your day and forget all about it.

Seeing as you didn’t remember most of it, it would probably be fine. You were leaving that morning anyway to go and locate a man in America with the dragon mark. You’d be gone soon and able to delay the inevitable fallout that would come with sleeping with Liu Kang for the first time in years. You found your clothes strewn about the room, slipped them back on as quietly as your hungover self would allow and then snuck out of his room. You thought about covering him up but that risked waking him.

Once in the hall and a few doors away, you leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

Okay.

You’d made it out of there. Now to make it look less like you’d done exactly what you’d done. Your mouth tasted foul and your head split with every step. This was a complete disaster. You hadn’t been careful. You hadn’t been thinking. You’d just passed out. You stopped to get cleaned up and grab a cup of tea to try and kill the headache. Then you returned to your room to finish packing your morning things and find a change of clothing. The monotony of the task made your brain buzz with guilt and unpleasant thoughts and then flashes of Liu Kang in the heat of the moment. You smacked the side of your head to try and shake it out of there.

On your desk there was the last and most important thing that you had to bring with you. An ornamental jade circlet. Kung Lao’s jade circlet. You sat at the desk and brushed your fingers over the beautiful thing. It had become one of your most precious possessions. As it often did, the thought of Kung Lao shifted your mood. Then again, it was rare when you weren’t thinking about him. Lifting the circlet, you placed it to your lips and gave it a soft kiss. “I’m sorry, Lao.”

It had been two months since he died.

You hadn’t been there in his last moments. Instead, you’d been halfway around the world running an errand for Raiden and had come back to find him gone. There had been no goodbyes. No last ‘I love you’. Your last conversation hadn’t even been a good one. Then, while drinking away the pain of his memory and guilt of his death, you’d slept with his best friend and brother.

Liu Kang.

You had never felt more guilty in all your life.

There had always been fire between you, but it had long since been put aside when you’d started dating Kung Lao. You’d stomped it out. Now Kung Lao was gone, and you were broken.

If anyone had suffered more than you after Kung Lao’s death it had been Liu Kang. You hadn’t talked about his death other than vague niceties. He had avoided you and you had avoided him. When you’d been together, you’d snapped at each other. The grieving process had been difficult for you both. It had been like he’d taken on some of Kung Lao’s most frustrating traits to deal with the loss of him.

There was no time to dwell on what wasn’t. You had things to do.

You looped the circlet into the straps of your bag and then took it with you. It was what it was. You couldn’t change the past and that was something you were struggling to come to terms with. This was one more thing to add to the pile of stress on your back.

You were off to South Dakota in the United States, a relatively boring place from what you’d heard. You were to search for a man with the dragon marking known as Nightwolf, a legendary warrior of the Makota people. Lord Raiden had asked you to prepare for a journey and you were grateful to have something to do other than stew in the room you’d shared with Kung Lao before his death. There was no peace for you there, but you weren’t sure there was peace for you anywhere right now.

Peace would come with time, you were told again and again. You were tired of hearing it. The comfort of time in conversation was mostly just to shut down the fixation on grief in the company of others. You shook it off.

After you’d found Nightwolf you would be off to meet up with Sonya, Jax, and Cole in Hollywood to try and convince an arrogant movie star, Johnny Cage, to come to Raiden’s Temple to train. No one knew what Outworld would do after having lost the tournament and you had to be prepared. Besides that, you thought Raiden sending you on a mission was his way of trying to help you grieve. He was fatherly at times.

You threw the bag on your back and then walked through the temple to meet Raiden. Your conversation was minimal and you were grateful for that. Your head was still killing you, stomach beyond sick. You stepped through the lightning and arrived outside of a forest, near a reservation where some of the Makota people still lived. You had been told to check there to see if you could find information about the man with the dragon mark.

There were motels nearby, so you walked there and rented a room. It was a little hole in the wall place with a broken No Vacancy sign just off the side of the highway, the kind you associated with horror movies. It had seen better days, but you weren’t picky at the moment, and you weren’t afraid either. You were a woman who was not to be trifled with. You dropped off your bag in the room and then sat on the edge of the bed with the ugly green comforter for a time. The wallpaper was faded and busy, once white ceiling yellowed with age. The most modern thing in the room was the television and even that was a decade old at least. It was fine. You only needed a place to sleep and this room served that purpose. There was a couch against one wall and a table in front of it- more than most hotels offered these days.

Your head was still splitting, but you had gotten some aspirin from the small convenience store attached to the ancient lobby where you’d checked in. Hopefully, that would help. You would take a car to the reservation and then hopefully be allowed to respectfully ask some questions. From what you’d read, very few people still lived there but it had been the only place you’d been able to locate before you’d traveled.

You were hoping that some of the people there would at least point you in the right direction. Raiden had told you that the title of Nightwolf was given to a great warrior who could commune with the Gods. In this case, it was also a man who bore the dragon marking. You called a car from the phone in your room and waited outside for it to meet you. When it did, you opened the door and climbed in the back and made casual conversation with the driver.

You pulled the door closed, but then someone smacked on the door and opened it again. In crawled Liu Kang and any recovery your head and stomach had made were set so far back that you could have vomited your insides onto your boots. “What are you doing here?” That sounded far more accusatory than you had meant it too.

“Raiden sent me to accompany you.” He avoided eye contact and turned his attention to the driver. He looked just as tired as you felt and addressed the driver. “Sorry about that. Is the fare still the same for us both?”

“You going to the same place?”

“Yes, just together.”

“Then same fare, buddy.” The driver put the car in gear and pulled onto the road. You couldn’t have felt worse. Thanks Raiden. Your distraction was officially over. Maybe he hadn’t sent you to find comfort. Maybe he’d sent you to test your spirit. Great.

Next Chapter >>

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Enies Lobby

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

this is still one of my very favorite nami panels. i think she’s really great through all of water 7 and enies lobby in general, actually, even though she isn’t really one of the characters in focus for a lot of it- like zoro and sanji, she stays pretty steadfast and very badass even though everything that happens, and never gives up on robin for a moment despite being one of the ‘weaker’ members of the crew. and it’s always fun to see her playing with lightning.

one of my favorite jokes from the first half or so of enies lobby is the strawhats both being completely unsurprised that luffy charges in ahead of them as soon as they arrive AND being able to find him immediately by following the explosions. they know him so well. 

luffy’s never been scared of dying, going all the way back to when he told coby he was fine with dying for his dream back in chapter two or three. that conversation is what his exchange with blueno here reminds me of- blueno asks him how long he intends to keep fighting, and luffy says until he dies, like there’s nothing to it.

it’s always been a trait of his to face death unflinching with a grin, so long as it’s for the sake of something he cares about, be it his crew or his brother or his dream, and i just really like that about him.  

i’ll go into it in the dressrosa post too, but i think it’s really impressive just how long oda held off on giving luffy any sort of significant power-up. he gets his first big power boost in the whole series here, forty volumes in. i’ve always liked that oda is very conservative with power boosts like this, because it both keeps the series’ powerscaling in check and makes the times it does happen much weightier. this is a monumental moment, and it feels like it.

also, i love the way gear two is drawn pre-timeskip, especially with the steam. it looks very cool and atmospheric.

i really like how united the strawhat crew feels throughout enies lobby, after all the internal turmoil and discord of water seven. even though the matter of usopp leaving the crew is still unresolved, they’ll all together once more, on the same page, and fully united in the goal of saving robin, whatever consequences it might bring. 

the tree of knowledge has such a cool design- it looks massive, and even more than that, it looks old. you look at that tree and you know its been there for easily thousands of years. its seen entire eras of history, and it would be priceless even without the countless books stored inside it.

and then it burns.

i’m so endlessly sad about the tragedy that is robin’s relationship with her mother. they never even got to see each other until their world was ending, and even then only for a couple minutes.

olvia is a very interesting character, because she’s someone who chose her dream over the people she loved. that’s not an inherently good or bad choice, but it is a choice she made, and it’s what led to the ending she and robin had to have. i’ve wondered a lot what might have happened if she chose the other way, if she never left or if she came back sooner or if she chose to flee the buster call with robin, and how different (and almost certainly better) robin’s life would have been if she had.

in a way, olvia reminds me a lot of kouzuki toki. they both die in order to fling a light of knowledge and hope into the future, and they both send their children away and choose to stay behind to choke on ash for the sake of a better tomorrow. 

i didn’t really notice until putting these panels together, but a lot of things burn in enies lobby. ohara burns, and the pluton plans and the world government flag, and enies lobby itself, and at the end, the going merry burns, too. if you extend it back to water seven, there’s the galley-la headquarters, too. in an arc that deals so much with the preservation and destruction of history and knowledge, it’s a fitting motif. 

the world government flag burning is still to this day one of the most striking panels out of a series full of them, in my opinion. in one act, the strawhats proclaim their absolute defiance against the world government, and their willingness to make enemies of the greatest power in the world for the sake of their friend.

it’s also another one of those moments that’s interesting to think about in the context of luffy’s past. it was a ship flying that same flag that shot sabo down, and while luffy wasn’t there to see it, i don’t think he’s oblivious to that fact, especially given how he says just before this he understands robin’s enemies perfectly.

dadan told him and ace that there was nothing they could do against the whole world, and luffy went and did it anyways.

sometimes i just think about how scary it must have been for robin, someone who’s been weighed down by the shackles of her past with no escape in sight for so very long, to open herself up and let herself hope, for life and freedom and a dream that’s always been out of reach. 

franky has a lot of really great moments between this arc and water seven- his conversation with usopp as usopp is working on merry and his talk with robin on the sea train are two others. it’s almost impressive how quickly he becomes an immensely likable character once we start getting to know him, given how he’s first introduced as an absolute piece of shit.

his burning of the pluton plans is a favorite of mine, and i think it might be because, like so many people before and after him, he’s choosing here to stake all his hopes on the strawhats, on luffy’s ability to pull off the impossible and on robin’s goodness. when robin’s only ever been chased and hated and called a demon by the world, franky chooses to trust her and luffy with the legacy his dad died for, and neither of them let him down.

monster point looks SO FUCKING TERRIFYING in enies lobby, and i LOVE it. look at that. franky is seven and half feet tall, and in front of monster point he’s tiny. monster point is huge, and dead-eyed, and a force of absolute destruction. i do kind of wish we got to see chopper go completely feral like this more often. he deserves to be terrifying!

i love how much FAITH all the rest of the strawhats continue to have in usopp throughout enies lobby. he left the crew and they really would have a right to be angry at him if they chose to, but it doesn’t even seem to cross any of their minds. they’re just happy he’s okay, and they include him again without missing a beat, because he’s still their friend and they know down to their bones they can trust him, even after everything. 

i’ve always really loved zoro and kaku’s little moment of post-battle banter here- zoro relays paulie’s message about cp9 being fired, kaku says he’s out of a job, zoro tells him to try the zoo, and kaku cracks up.

it feels very real to me for whatever reason, and i think part of it ties back into how well one piece handles morality with its characters- zoro and kaku are genuinely pretty similar people who get along decently, it just happens that they wound up on opposite sides. there are series where you’d never see moments like this due to the lines between good and bad being so firmly drawn, and i love how one piece blurs those lines so much they may as well not exist a lot of the time.

this is the other sequence, along with luffy climbing the drum rockies barehanded, that always makes me physically cringe to look at. it looks so painful. robin is so nearly powerless here, but not quite- she can still buy time for her crew to catch up, even if it’s only seconds, even if she risks shattering her teeth or even her jaw in the process. she’s spent so long giving up and has only just started daring to hope- she’s not about to go gentle.

there aren’t many panels that give me catharsis like this one. there really aren’t.

oda’s villains are usually complicated and awful and often a little admirable, if only for how clever or how terrifyingly powerful they are, but every now and then he comes up with someone who’s just pathetic and cowardly and pointlessly cruel. spandam is like this, obviously, and so is orochi, and the celestial dragons, and i’d argue flampe from whole cake island as well. and there’s nothing like seeing characters like them- weak, cruel people so assured in their own power and rightness- get obliterated.

one of the things i really like about enies lobby is that nobody really gets sidelined- everybody gets multiple chances to shine. luffy, usopp, and obviously robin are the most in focus, obviously, but zoro, sanji, nami, chopper, and even franky all get a bunch of individual awesome moments. oda’s ability to handle his cast satisfyingly is consistently really impressive (if sometimes strained in huge ensemble arcs like dressrosa or wano) and it really shows here, i think.

i just really love the entire climax of enies lobby. much like the arc as a whole, it just feels triumphant, even though the situation is extremely dire. luffy unlocking gear three, robin’s cuffs getting unlocked, usopp shooting spandam and the marines all the way from the tower of justice- it’s all just good, a long chain of much-needed victories and catharses, and it feels very good to read.

i’ll always be impressed by just how much characterization oda manages to give merry, a boat. she’s only really a character in water seven and the end of enies lobby, only about two chapters of which she actually speaks in. and yet i don’t think you’d find a single one piece fan who disagrees that merry’s death is easily one of the most heartwrenching in the entire series.

i love the reactions of the strawhats to robin’s thanks. they’ve just gone through hell to save her, most of them are beat to shit and they all risked their lives, and yet they all just smile, or brush it off, because to them there’s nothing else they could have done. it’s all worth it, so long as they got her back, so long as she’s safe and happy.

merry’s funeral just hits me in the chest every single time i read it. it’s tragic, of course, but there’s also something almost lovely about it, something peaceful about her getting to go out on her own terms, carrying her crew to safety one last time, defying every rule of the universe to do it. just like a strawhat pirate.

oda’s ability to communicate emotion through expressions really comes through here, too. merry has the only lines in this scene, fitting for her death in the limelight, but the shots of every other crewmate’s face let us know at a glance just what they’re all feeling and just how strongly they’re feeling it.

you know, i’d forgotten we only learn the name of the new world after enies lobby. we only get proper exposition about the revolutionary army and the yonkou here, too, despite them being set up since loguetown and jaya (or alabasta, or even chapter one if you count from shanks’s introduction) respectively. oda’s ability to parse out exposition and explanation so we always have just the right amount of information is really impressive- we always have more questions, but we also always have the feeling that those questions have answers, and that sooner or later they’ll be revealed.

points at shanks. i just think he’s neat.

it’s my opinion that one of the great joys of one piece is seeing luffy and the crew rise up in the world, and seeing them gain more and more notoriety. i love nothing they do ever happens in a vacuum- everything has impacts, and there are always outside eyes watching, and often those impacts are things that they never could have predicted.

ace and blackbeard is still, i think, definitely one of the coolest looking fights in the whole series. it’s not all that often we get to see two people with extremely flashy and showy abilities go all-out against each other, and the resulting fireworks are still really something to behold, despite how badly it all ends. 

[letterboxd]

Work Horse.

Taking on a rare leading role in his decades-spanning career, national treasure Tim Blake Nelson speaks with Mitchell Beaupre about demystifying heroes, reinventing genres and something called a quiche Western.

“This film is unapologetic about all the tropes that it’s deploying in service of telling the story... You’ve got a satchel full of cash. You’ve got gunslinging, physical violence, and feeding somebody to the pigs.” —Tim Blake Nelson

Described by Letterboxd members as “a national treasure” who “makes everything better”, Tim Blake Nelson is a journeyman actor who has tapped into practically every side of the industry since making his feature debut in Nora Ephron’s This Is My Life back in 1992. Whether you are a Marvel fanatic, a history buff or a parent trying to get through the day, the actor’s distinctive presence is a charming sight that’s always welcome on the screen.

Tim Blake Nelson is one of those rare actors who unites all filmgoers, a man genuinely impossible not to love, which certainly seems to be the case for Hollywood. Checking off working relationships with directors ranging from Terrence Malick and Ang Lee to Hal Hartley and Guillermo Del Toro, Nelson has covered the boards, even crossing over into directing and writing, both in films and on the stage.

Yet, despite being a renowned talent who can take a smaller supporting role in a massive Steven Spielberg blockbuster starring Tom Cruise and carry the film, Nelson-as-leading-man sightings have been few and far between. In fact, it’s quite a struggle to find a film with Nelson in a leading role, as even playing the titular role for directors who understand his greatness still results in him only appearing in the opening section of an anthology feature.

At last, the leading role Nelson fans were in need of has arrived in the form of Old Henry, a new Western from writer/director Potsy Ponciroli. Nelson plays the eponymous Henry, a widowed farmer with a mysterious past who makes a meager living with his son (Gavin Lewis), doing his best to leave his old life behind and hide away from the world. Things get complicated when Henry stumbles upon a satchel of cash and a wounded stranger (Scott Haze), bringing them both into his home. Soon, a dangerous posse led by an intimidating Stephen Dorff comes calling, setting the stage for an old-fashioned throwdown in this twisty Western siege thriller.

Premiering at the Venice Film Festival, Old Henry has been warmly received on Letterboxd. “Old Henry feels like the culmination of Tim Blake Nelson’s twenty-plus-year career, but from another dimension, where he’s highly regarded as a leading man”, writes Noah, speaking not only to the strength of Nelson’s performance, but also to the fact that this leading role shouldn’t be such a rarity. Todd awards Nelson the prize for “Best Facial Hair in a 2021 film”, before applauding the actor for pouring “every emotion in his body to play Henry”.

Letterboxd’s East Coast editor Mitchell Beaupre saddled up for a chat with Nelson about the intentional hokiness of the Westerns that made him fall in love with filmmaking, how the Coen brothers put other directors on notice, and the fatherly joy of keeping it all in the family.

I’ve seen a lot of interviews with you discussing your career as an actor, a writer, and a director. You always speak with such reverence for the art. Where does that passion come from for you? What made you want to pursue this field? Tim Blake Nelson: It’s funny, doing these interviews for Old Henry has been reminding me of my introduction to filmmaking as an art. I’ve realized that I had never quite located it, but it really started with the Sergio Leone Westerns, which I would see on television when I was growing up in Oklahoma in the ’70s. Before that, going to the cinema was always invariably a treat, no matter what the film, but I would just be following the story and the dialogue.

The Sergio Leone movies were the first ones that exposed subjectivity in telling stories on film to me. That was where I became aware of the difference between a closeup and an extreme closeup, or how you could build tension through a combination of the angle on a character with the editorial rhythm, with the lens size, with the music in addition to the dialogue and the story.

How old were you when this shift in your understanding of cinema was happening? I think it was across the ages of ten and eighteen, where I suddenly realized that this was an auteur here, Leone. There was a guy behind all these movies I was seeing—and in Oklahoma, you could see a Sergio Leone movie every weekend. This was a man making deliberate and intelligent decisions in everything that I was seeing.

I started noticing that a character was in a duster that goes all the way down to his boots, even though that’s not necessarily accurate to the Old West. That’s something else. Also, why is he wearing it in the desert? Would that have been very practical? And look at that cigar Clint Eastwood is smoking. It’s not smooth, it looks like it was a piece of tree root. Then later I learned it’s a particular kind of Italian cigar, but somehow it was defining this genre of Western. I marveled at that, and found it unbelievably thrilling to discover. I loved the stories and the dialogue and the intentional hokiness of it all. All of it was conspiring to teach me to venerate this form.

Sergio Leone, his daughters, and Clint Eastwood on the set of ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’ (1966).

The connection there is interesting between the Leone Westerns to where Old Henry is at now. You’ve talked before about how the Western genre is one that is reinvented over and over throughout the years— Oh, you do your homework!

I try my best! What would you say defines the current era of Westerns that we’re seeing, and how the genre is being reinvented? Well, Joel and Ethan [Coen] did a lot of mischief, in a good way, with The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. Genres are always about genres, in addition to their story. So, I would say that Buster Scruggs is the quintessential postmodern Western, if you look at it as one movie instead of as an anthology, because it celebrates the history of the form. The magic of that movie is that it engages you in each story while also being a meditation on death. That’s what connects each one of those tales, and then it’s also a meditation on storytelling to boot. In the final chapter, you have a character talking about why we love stories, and he’s telling it to a bunch of people who you’ll learn are all dead.

The stories are a way of delaying the inevitable mortality. I mean, look at that. It’s such an accomplishment. With that movie, I think Joel and Ethan put filmmakers on notice that Westerns had better always be also about Westerns, because whether you like it or not, they are. I think they probably came to understand that when they were making True Grit, although knowing the two of them they probably understood it already.

Do you feel there’s a direct correlation between a movie like Buster Scruggs and Old Henry, in this era of postmodern, revisionist Westerns? How it impacts a movie like Old Henry is that you have Potsy embracing the Western-ness of the movie. This film is unapologetic about all the tropes that it’s deploying in service of telling the story. You’ve got the cantankerous old man hiding a past, who’s a maverick who wants to keep the law and the bad guys off his property. He wants to be left alone. You’ve got a satchel full of cash. You’ve got gunslinging, physical violence, and feeding somebody to the pigs. Yet, it’s all accomplished without irony in a very straightforward way that is utterly confident, and in love with the genre.

I think ultimately that’s why the movie works, because it’s very front-footed. It’s not hiding from you. It’s not deceiving you and trying to tell you it’s something that it isn’t. It’s a good, straightforward Western.

Tim Blake Nelson as the titular singer in ‘The Ballad of Buster Scruggs’ (2018).

That’s a bit different from those Leone Westerns, with all of their anachronisms. I remember when the movie Silverado came out when I was growing up, and people were calling it a “quiche Western”, which was funny. That was what they would call it in Oklahoma because it had a bunch of movie stars in it, who weren’t known for being in Westerns. It was the Sergio Leone crowd calling it that. I went and saw it, wondering, “Well, if it’s a quiche Western, then why is everybody talking about it?” I saw it, and I loved it. Those folks putting it down like that were wrong. It’s actually a straightforward, hard-boiled, hardcore unapologetic Western. You don’t like some of the movie stars in it, but get over it. The reason that movie works is because it’s straight-ahead and well-told, and I think that movie holds up.

Old Henry is the same kind of animal. It’s more in the tradition of Sergio Leone—or, actually, I would say more in the tradition of Unforgiven. That was a big influence on Potsy.

Unforgiven was marvelous in the way it demystified that old black hat/white hat mentality of Westerns, opening up a more multi-dimensional understanding. You’re no stranger to that. A series like Watchmen takes that approach with superheroes, who in a sense hold the position now that Western heroes used to hold culturally. Do you find there’s more of a demand these days to challenge those archetypes who used to be put on pedestals—be they superheroes, cowboys, police—and provide a deeper analysis? Absolutely, yes. At the same time, I think the demystified Western hero goes back to John Wayne in The Searchers. I think it really started with that character, one of the greatest characters ever in a Western. There’s One-Eyed Jacks, with Marlon Brando, which was made just after The Searchers, and again embracing this concept of an extremely complicated man. I don’t think you get the Sergio Leone movies without that.

I always think of McCabe & Mrs. Miller as a Western that was doing something totally different than anything I had seen before. That’s another one, with that final image with the character smoking opium, going into oblivion after the demise of Warren Beatty’s very flawed character, after you’ve watched what it has taken to really build that town. You have a director, Robert Altman, making the deliberate choice to shoot in order so that they can build the town while they’re shooting the movie, and you really get the cost of it. I think there’s a lot of history to get to a place where a movie like Unforgiven can happen. Then Clint comes along and, as he often does, moves it forward even more.

Gavin Lewis as Henry’s son Wyatt in ‘Old Henry’.

That’s a film that tackles legacy, as does Old Henry, which at its core is ultimately about the relationship between a father and his son. You got to work on this film with your own son, coincidentally named Henry, who was part of the art department. What is that experience like, getting to share your passion with your son on a project together? Well, I think something that is true for the character of Henry and for myself, and perhaps all of us, is that we all want our kids to have better lives than ours. I want that to be true in every respect. Mostly, I want them to be more fulfilled than I have been. My kids look at me when I say that and say, “Thanks a lot Dad for raising that bar”, because they see that I have a pretty good life. Which I do, but I still think they can be more fulfilled than I am, and I want that for them. One of the great privileges of this movie was to watch my son—who was the on-set decorator—work his ass off.

Those are the words of an incredibly proud father. He’s a work horse, and he’s learning about filmmaking, and I think on his current trajectory he will go beyond where I’ve gone as a filmmaker, directing more movies than I’ve been able to direct. Do a better job at it, too. He’s also a singer-songwriter, and I think he can have a venerable career doing that if he wants, but he wants to make movies too, and I hope that’s going to happen for him. It was a thrill to watch him do the work, the twelve- and fourteen-hour days, and after every take resetting and making sure everything was right. It felt like an accomplishment to see him take on that responsibility and do the real work every day.

Related content

SJ Holiday’s lists of Essential Neo-Westerns and Essential Modern Westerns

The Best Neo-Westerns of the 21st Century, according to JS Lewis

Our interview with Slow West director John Maclean

Follow Mitchell on Letterboxd

‘Old Henry’ is in US theaters now and on VOD from Friday, October 8.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Wavelength

Prompt: “I heard a rumour.” -- @challengingwords​ prompt #39

Pairing: Rowoon x female reader

Genre: office au / suggestive

Warnings: a bit of enemies to lovers except the relationship is not fully established.

Word count: 1492

“I heard a rumour,” Taeyang murmured to you as he sat down with haste. His eyes darted around to ensure it was safe enough to elaborate, soon scooting his chair closer to yours. “Apparently, we’re getting a new manager.”

“Nonsense,” you breathed, rolling your eyes in response. “I got told if there was ever a need for new management that I would be offered the role.”

“That’s what we all thought, but Penelope was just telling Jaeyoon that-”

“Rumours are just that,” you interjected firmly, your eyes travelling back to the computer screen in front of you. “Unless it’s based on factual evidence, there’s no point to buying into uncredited information.”

However, you were stunned when your boss Marion introduced a tall man to you all as your new manager the following Monday.

Your mind was reeling. As a senior member of staff, you had been priming for a promotion now for over two years. You had the skillset to become the manager of the department. You knew every person’s weaknesses and strengths to keep the working environment at its best.

You had been convinced it was just a stupid rumour.

So, when the introduction of Kim Rowoon was over, instead of watching the man head to his desk with Penelope and the other females fluttering about, you stormed into your boss’ office and placed your hands onto your hips.

“What’s this?”

“What’s what, Y/N?”

“You told me I would become manager. In fact, you told my entire team to consider me as that. Now they, and I, have to answer to someone else?”

Marion steepled her fingers together and let out a sigh. “I too answer to higher-ups, Y/N. My hands are tied. When the Chairman’s favourite nephew returned from-”

“Does he have the qualifications?”

“He seems adequate on paper.”

“This is ridiculous!” you whined, and Marion shrugged.

“What do you want me to do? Tell the Chairman that I have someone more capable for the job and that his favourite nephew shouldn’t be placed in charge of the department? I have three kids I need to feed, Y/N. Welcome to the corporate world. The good news is, Rowoon isn’t in charge entirely. On paper, yes, but I’d like you both to work together as a team. You’ll be getting a pay raise too. So essentially, it is the promotion you were aiming for.”

You snorted. “Except not one that allows me to rule on merits alone. I’m not angry at you, just the situation.”

“It might be something amazing. Give Rowoon a chance before you instantly pit him in the other corner of a boxing match, Y/N.”

It was hard to accept the dual leadership with Rowoon. For one, he had been overseas for the past five years, and the way he led the way was not how it worked here. It clashed with your approach to everything. Therefore, you were always tense in his company.

It only got worse when the new manager’s office was allocated, and you both had to share the space.

“Have you got the report on the Atticus account?” Rowoon asked from his desk, and you looked up at the man and frowned.

“You’re in charge of that account.”

“Yes, but your team cross-checked the numbers for me and were meant to run it past you.”

“My team? Aren’t we meant to be one whole unit? Stop assigning work to me that I’m not a part of from the beginning. If you got someone to run-”

“Okay! Thanks for the pep-talk, Y/N. It’s always a pleasure working with you,” he shot sarcastically as he walked out of the office, and you threw yourself back in your chair, seething at the interaction.

It wasn’t ever going to work between you with this tension.

You did try, the following week, to be less at his throat, but it was a hard pill to swallow answering to Rowoon’s commands. You had established too many well-oiled systems that were foreign to the man, and subsequently, he was relying on you to teach him everything from the ground up.

This meant a lot more overtime than you signed up for.

“Our Chinese is here,” Rowoon announced as he walked back into the office and placed the food delivery down on the small meeting table in the middle of the room.

Getting up from your desk and discarding your blazer, you smiled brightly. “Thank you!”

“Do you know you only seem to appreciate me when food is around?” he mentioned wryly, loosening off the tie around his neck before unbuttoning his shirt’s cuffs.

“Well, you do have good taste in food. I’ll give you that.”

“I’ll take whatever compliment you’ll give me, Y/N.”

You were midway in dishing out the food when you noticed the way Rowoon rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his forearms. He seemed unaware of how stuck you were on his arms as he sat down across from you until you still hadn’t moved.

“Y/N?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry, lost in thought.”

“About my arms?” he mused, and you snapped your gaze up to his eyes.

So, he was aware after all.

“What? No.”

“It’s okay. I found it difficult to speak on the phone earlier to Clare Neutronics with you twirling your hair around your finger absent-mindedly. We’re even.”

“You did? Even with what?”

Rowoon took his eyes off the food momentarily, his brows dipping before he smirked. “The tension between us is evident, Y/N.”

“I agree to a point. I don’t like the tension, but I think you’re construing it as a different type of friction than I view it as.”

“Really? I was certain there was mutual attraction between us.”

You laughed loudly and then paused, your eyes narrowing on the man before you.

Rowoon was undeniably attractive. He was a classic type of handsome, very gentlemanly in appearance. Had you not met as opponents, you probably would have spent more time admiring him than the little you had.

Staring back at you, Rowoon then smiled meekly. “I guess it’s just me then.”

“You’re attracted to me?”

“Do you want to really get into this with me, Y/N? Think about the position we’re in before you ask for further information. If you’re not already aware of it, this could complicate our working environment.”

“We’re fighting for the same role.”

“No, we’re not.”

You gaped at him. “We are! I was going to be promoted to manager, but you came along, the Chairman’s favourite nephew who stole the show!”

“So that’s why you’re bitter towards me. I’ll have you know I’ve worked my way up from the ground to get to here.”

“I know,” you agreed bitterly, sighing heavily. “I’m aware you have some skill.”

Rowoon pursed his lips together. “Some.”

“I admit, we’re slowly getting there together. This wasn’t how I imagined my promotion, though.”

“I guess we just don’t match the same wavelength in multiple areas.”

“You’re throwing out breadcrumbs for me to pick up intentionally now,” you accused, and the way Rowoon gazed at you confirmed it. You huffed with annoyance at your growing curiosity. “Fine, I’ll bite. Tell me the answer to my previous question.”

“It’s hard working with you.”

“I’m intolerable, I can agree.”

Rowoon shook his head. “Not like that, well… I’m not going to go there right now. You asked me to elaborate on attraction. There’s a whole lot of it for you coming from me.”

“Really?”

“I was convinced you felt the same way, which was why we were butting heads. Eventually, we would have had to address that so our working partnership could improve. I guess we avoided that.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Quite. I’ll have to figure other outlets for the images of workplace misconduct that I’ve thought of.”

Laughing, you watched the man before you as he ate. He had a few mouthfuls before giving up and capturing your gaze with his own. “Are you trying to figure me out?”

“A little.”

“I shouldn’t be satisfied with that,” he replied, lowering his eyes back to his meal. He grew smug. “But I am.”

“I never said I liked you.”

“You’re considering it.”

“I’m trying to figure how you came to that being the answer to our tension.”

“Jaeyoon mentioned…”

“What? What did he say?!”

“Well, he thought that might be the reason for your intolerable ways.”

“So, you admit I’m intolerable.”

Rowoon groaned before chuckling. “There’s no way out of this deep hole, is there?”

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had, you know.”

“I’m aware. I’m enjoying it.”

“I have to admit I am too.”

Sharing a smile, you wondered what this new information would lend to your relationship with Rowoon. On a professional level, you hoped it would break down the barriers between your work ethics.

Though, the idea of figuring out what Rowoon had been imagining had ignited further interest within you.

Maybe you’d find yourselves on the same wavelength eventually.

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[Various Idols/Soloists Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]  

[because-of-a-friend]

GuardianAngel!Jun

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request anon! I really hope you like it!!! This was def a bit out of my comfort zone but in a really exciting way! Also I don’t keep up with absolutely all lore on angels/ guardian angels, so if I say something you weren’t expecting/didn’t really want or left out something you were expecting, I’m sorry and hope it’s still enjoyable anyways! (I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY IT JUST SORT OF HAPPENED IM SORRY)

Warnings: Near death experiences (including almost drowning), mentions of injury and death, and angst

There are rules about being a guardian angel that are so obvious, they don’t need to be spoken

Obviously, if there’s a fixed point where your person has to get injured or even die, you can’t intervene

You can’t ever assist in a way that would get you spotted by your person

You can’t do more than simple guidance when it comes to matters of the heart and mind

And, you cannot ever meet your person and tell them who you are

Jun has always followed all rules to a T

He’s never gotten in trouble or anywhere even close to trouble

He’s an example to his peers

He always does his job perfectly

There’s never been a hitch

And then he’s assigned to you 

At first your life is as normal as anyone else he’s ever been a guardian to

But then things get complicated

It’s honestly like you’re trying to get hurt

Suddenly, there’s just a period of time where you’re constantly in danger

Jun will save you once and then immediately be running off to save you again

Boy is he stressed

He feels like his constant state of being is just standing there, bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath before you need him again

He’ll admit that he’d rather be assigned to you than someone who never required his help at all

He’d be so bored

But still, did you always have to be so... reckless?

One day it gets to be too much

And Jun slips up

You had already walked under an AC unit falling from someone’s apartment window and he had to send a gust of wind to push you out of the way

Then you stepped out into the street in front of a car speeding down the road

Jun was still in the middle of breathing out a sigh of relief from the first incident

So he didn’t have the time to think of how to save you from the next danger

In his panic he steps forward and grabs you

You feel the hand around your wrist

You feel the force yanking you back out of the street

You see someone out of the corner of your eye

But once you fully turn to thank them, no one is there

You’re turning around over and over to see who you could have missed

But there’s really no one

Jun is watching you from a few feet away, now invisible to your eyes, his heart practically beating out of his chest

He didn’t do anything wrong... did he?

Technically he didn’t get caught by you

Technically 

But that was close 

He needs to be more careful

You have a period of time where you’re just utterly confused about what happened that day

You’re constantly looking over your shoulder wondering if maybe it was something supernatural

You start to notice your close calls with injury/death

And begin to wonder what’s stopping you from actually getting hurt

Sometimes it’s a gust of wind strong enough to push you out of the way, or a loud noise to stop you in your tracks, or sometimes just the kindness of a random stranger who is suddenly overcome with the need to help you

It’s starting to feel impossible how many times you’ve crossed paths with death and walked away fine

You begin to almost... test the waters

Instead of accidentally running into trouble, you start purposely running towards it

Jun is unbelievably stressed

Why do you have to do this? 

He feels like he might die at this rate just from how much he’s stressing out about your safety

Then you put him in a situation where he really has no choice but to help you as himself

You’re walking by a community pool late at night after agreeing to help your friend that works there out by locking up for them so they could go out that night instead of being stuck at work late

There’s no one else there since it’s already closed

It’s dark and slippery

And with you being you, Jun is beyond nervous, so he follows behind you from no more than a foot away

It’s going fine and you’re almost done

So Jun is letting out a sigh of relief

But it was too soon

As you’re passing by to double check that the back door is locked, you slip on the wet floor

You tumble towards the pool and hit your head on the way down

Jun watches in horror as you fall into the water and sink straight to the bottom

He doesn’t hesitate even for a moment to jump in after you

He drags you out and sets you down next to the pool

You’re not waking up and he’s terrified

He begins to perform CPR

Finally you sit up, choking, water streaming out of your mouth

You saw him, you know you did

There’s a boy sitting in front of you even though you knew there was no one in the building besides you

He’s staring into your eyes with such great concern

“Are you ok?”

You nod slowly as he helps you sit up 

“You need to go to the hospital, you hit your head”

You nod at his words again, reaching up the rub your eyes since they’re blurred from the water

“How did you get in-”

You stop mid sentence

As soon as you’ve taken your hands away from your eyes, you look up and see that no one is there

You begin to search around but you really are alone

You’re spooked and also worried that maybe it’s just because you hit your head that hard and immediately head to the hospital 

The doctor discharges you quickly, telling you the hit didn’t do any serious damage and that you just needed to rest and take it easy for a few days

You’re still completely confused by the disappearing boy 

Was he the same person that pulled you out of the street that one day?

Jun begins to observe you closely after these incidents

He can tell you must be thinking about him

Most days when you’re not busy, you’ll be staring off into the distance, your mind trying to explain these strange happenings

And for the first time since he’s ever become a guardian angel, Jun really wants to tell you

Usually he had no issues hiding from the people he was assigned to

But you

He likes the way you live

How you speak to people

Your goals and dreams and how you work towards them

The hobbies you enjoy

He feels happy being your guardian

And while it can be stressful sometimes, he never hates it

It feels, ironically, comfortable to be your guardian

He’s honestly grown quite fond of you

Which is also a big no-no for guardian angels

You should never get too attached to your assigned person

There will come a time where they have to get hurt 

Or a time when their life must come to an end

If a guardian angel is too attached to a human

They may try to change what must be

But Jun hates watching you feel like you’re going insane over not being able to explain these instances 

He wants to be able to explain it all to you

In the end all it takes is one more brush with danger before you’re standing there, Jun’s hand locked around your arm, staring into his eyes after he’s saved you once again

He immediately turns to walk away but you grab his arm

“WAIT! Wait!”

Jun knows he should do anything, anything at all to leave you right then and there so he doesn’t get caught

But he also doesn’t hate the idea of that happening

“I know you!” you say. “You saved me the other day at the pool!” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, turning back to you, “but I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” you’re so sure this is the boy from the pool

Jun hesitates

Instead of saying anything, he just holds a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion before finally walking off

And you just stand there in awe

It was him

You go home immediately, beginning to study different supernatural creatures and happenings

You print out pages and pages of all sorts of information on any type of guardian creature you can find

You’re certain this boy is something other than human and you’re sure that whatever he is, he must be in charge of your safety

Now every time you almost get hurt or in trouble, you look around wildly, trying to spot the boy who you’ve only really been able to see twice

Sometimes you’ll catch a glimpse of a figure walking around a corner out of sight, or a being seemingly disappearing into thin air

This boy must be following you everywhere and you’re determined to catch him again

Jun, who is very tired after all of the saving you and then concealing himself moments, sort of just... lets you

One day you turn around after surviving another potentially dangerous moment, and he’s just... standing there

You can’t think of anything else to say, so you just blurt out the question, “Are you my guardian angel?”

Jun just smiles and nods at you, “Nice to finally meet you”

He walks you home that day

And you have a million questions for him

“Did you chose me or were you assigned to me?”

“What abilities do you have?”

“Have you been with me my whole life?”

“Do you have like... a boss?”

“Actually what is the system like?”

“What other supernatural creatures exist?”

“Do you have a name?”

He interrupts your next question by answering, “Jun.”

It silences you for a moment

“I like that name.”

Jun smiles brightly at you

You notice he sort of... glows

To say your relationship moves fast is an understatement

Jun knows your time together will be short

He’s heard what has happened to other guardian angels who have broken the rules

Someone will be coming for him

But he knows he’s in love with you

And wants to make sure he takes advantage of all the moments he has left with you

He’s very forward

But since your safety and comfort is his top priority, he always lets you set the boundaries beforehand

He’ll never do anything you don’t want him to do

But he’s definitely going to do anything and everything that you are ok with him doing

You feel strangely comfortable around him

Obviously you know he’s there to protect you and he’s been there your whole life

But it’s still strange how easy it is for you to just fall right into Jun

He holds your face in his hands and looks at you like you’re the whole world

And to him you are

Nothing has ever mattered to him as much as you

And all he wants to do is spend as much time with you as possible

He wants to go on all the traditional human type dates and do all the cliché human couple things 

The two of you celebrate every human holiday in like a week so he can experience what it’s like lol

On the day you celebrate Valentine’s Day he gets you every cheesy gift he’s ever seen humans get each other

“Jun how am I supposed to sleep with this many giant teddy bears in my room?”

“You’ll figure it out”

Then you two celebrate Christmas and he definitely sets up mistletoe on every doorway

You don’t miss how tightly he holds you at night

Or the way he looks at you like you’re about to disappear

Or the way he always needs to suddenly reach for you to make sure you’re there

You know something is off

Why would your guardian angel suddenly show up out of the blue to spend your life with you?

“Junnie, you’d tell me if I was gonna die right?”

“What? [Y/N], what makes you think you’re gonna die?”

He comes and kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his

“I don’t know, sometimes you just act like... this is all going to end at any moment.”

Jun knows he should tell you 

But he just wants the two of you to stay in your little bubble for as long as possible

“It’s just because I love you so much, and I just want to make sure you’re always safe and happy”

He clings to you even tighter the next few days

He knows he has to tell you asap so he wants to give you the best days of your life

He’s so doting

Makes you breakfast every day

Is always right there to show you affection

Wrapping his arms around you from behind

Resting his head on your chest and gazing up at you

Ruffling you hair

Pressing kisses all over your face

Letting his hands stroke up and down your arms and then all the way down to your fingers sending goosebumps across your skin

And then one day he gives you a gift out of nowhere 

It’s a beautiful necklace that looks like one single angel wing

“Oh Junnie, I love it” you say putting it on immediately

You quickly notice that he’s wearing a necklace with a matching wing

“[Y/N], I need to tell you something.”

He sits close to you and strokes your hands with his thumbs as he lays out the reality of your situation

His heart is in the pit of his stomach by the time he’s finished and he’s ready for you to run away and leave him behind

But when you assure him that you also want to make the most of every moment you have left

He’s so happy he could cry

So you start to take him on all the typical cheesy human dates

So that way the two of you have plenty of happy moments together while also getting to experience everything

The carnival

Picnics

Walks on the beach

Stargazing

And it’s honestly perfect every time

When he stares lovingly down at your face, stroking his thumb slowly up your cheeks then leans in to kiss you slow and sweet under the stars, you feel like you could fly

Your happiness is short lived though

You’re not even surprised when two men show up at your door asking where Jun is

Despite not being surprised, you are devastated 

The two of you put up a good fight

But the ending was inevitable

You watch helplessly as they drag Jun away from you

But before he’s gone completely he calls out to you

“If it’s in this life or the next, in this world or another, I will come back to you”

And as you see the look in his eyes during those last few moments

And see his expression as he says those words

You know that he will

[heli0s-writes]

Heli0s I need to ask this because I've literally thought about this on and off since I read SLH for the first time and this makes me think every time I read it. So at the end I think Steve did choose p*ggy over reader and only after the call when she admitted to not being available to him, Steve went to back to reader and apologised, how did Steve and reader justify it to themselves, because one of the things that hurt her most was that he thought of her like a back up which he did confirm with his actions. Would he have chosen her inspite of p*ggy willing to get back together with him?

So this is going to be a stupid long answer but overall, relationships are complicated and messy and at their core, people with their entirely different lives constantly compromising to fit each other into one unit.

All 3 (Steve, Peggy, Reader) were at fault during this time, and all made decisions out of reflex, but they had their reasons which were highly specific to them.

Steve and Peggy were together for 20 years, they already had a history of compromise (until divorce), and, importantly, had a child. Steve has always, always wanted a family (and to him, there had been one very specific definition of "family"). So his mistake is that he goes back to Peggy because he's got history, and he's convinced it's the best for his child, and it's his immediate reflex.

Peggy's mistake is that she's jealous. Her reflex upon seeing her child (whom she only gets about 40 days out of the year) rapidly growing up and dependent on another mother figure, is to scrabble everything back together. I think for a lot of women who realize after they've had children that it's not "their calling" as its been spoon-fed to us our entire lives, is that they very much feel guilty, and very much still try to be this mythical, perfect "mother". It's obviously not what she truly wants, and she realizes it again when Steve confronts her. She backs off right away, apologizes, and she will stand by it.

Steve would have figured it out soon enough. He had fallen back into a "honeymoon" period, romanticized their dynamic, but it wouldn't have lasted long.

Finally, Reader's mistake is that she takes Steve back. I think it's quite easy to take someone back in the moment, because of course it feels better immediately. She cares about Steve and Sarah and he's betrayed her and picked someone else over her, but she also understands why he did that.

BUT Steve has always been genuine, always tried his best to do the "right" thing no matter how misguided and in over his head he gets, and when Reader takes him back, even though she's hesitant and confused and struggling-- and probably shouldn't have forgiven him because yeah, what a fucking wound he's inflicted-- what Steve does right, and what makes them work out in the end, is that he follows through.

Do I think that every mistake is unforgiveable, for always? No. Do I think that it takes some goddamn hard work to earn back trust? Hell yeah.

But he does it. Over time, consistently, he rebuilds. The best apology is changed behavior. He's learned a valuable lesson, one that's re-written an ingrained world-view he's had his whole life (family does not have to be blood. it can be found. it can be made with people who care about you regardless of their status), and he's not going to lose her again.

TLDR; It's a nuanced situation. In terms of black and white, she shouldn't have taken him back. She does, though, and he follows through with his promise to honor her. So it works out for them.

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

[solohux]

happy 2021! i really hope we all have a better year this year but for now, here’s a list of my favourite kylo/hux fics that were published in 2020, ones that got me through days of lonliness and sadness to make me smile ✧

thank you fic writers of the kylux fandom! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

- keep in the dark (to stay out of the light) by howlingshame Modern AU. Smuggler Kylo Ren runs afoul of Armitage Hux, head of the First Order crime ring. Instead of killing him outright, Hux decides to keep him for his own instead. Kylo is none too thrilled with the situation, but Hux has plenty of patience. He wants Kylo to be his in every sense of the word, and they've got all the time in the world. [E, 247k words, warnings for violence, stockholm syndrome, sub kylo & dom hux]

- Please Remember I Love You by @bumblebae8 After murdering Snoke, Kylo Ren flees alongside Rey, returning to the Reistance and to his mother after ten years. They at once begin strategizing on how to take down the corrupt and evil First Order. [M, 65k words, no warnings, redeemed ben, skywalker family drama]

- Children of War by @starryartemis​ After a complicated diplomatic mission went awry, General Hux and Kylo Ren accidentally find themselves tasked with their most difficult mission: becoming parents. Despite their complex relationship, they both agree that raising an offspring will help bring glory to the First Order. Their original vision of a united family quickly falls apart as Hux and Ren cannot see eye to eye in what they want the future to hold. [E, 162k words, warnings for violence, kylux science babies, slow burn]

- I Should Live in Salt for Leaving You Behind by Asrael_Valtiri Of course, he’d betrayed Ren, to save the Order. To save himself and his people.To try to save Ren, in a way.Strange, Hux thought, closing his eyes against the glare of the overhead lighting. He pretended that the wetness escaping the corner of his eye was from the brightness. He failed.Stupid, he amended. Stupid, Armitage. [E, 65k words, no warnings, a TROS fix-it, kylo clones]

- Against All Odds by Kittens              Kylo really doesn't care for people, but he'll always help an animal in need. When he sees a dog covered in mud on a cold, rainy day, he can't help but try to help. What he didn't expect was for the dog to be a fox and the fox to be a man. [E, 49k words, warnings for violence, modern au, fox hux]

- Hadopelagic by DustOnBothSides [WIP] After a life of staying pharmaceutically heat-free, Hux has to allow his body to go through at least one natural cycle, lest there be consequences. He takes a shore leave and travels to a former omegan retreat, abandoned and all but forgotten after the fall of Old Republic. Ren, not knowing of Hux's predicament, decides to follow, suspecting treason. He finds something else instead. [E, 33k words, omega hux & alpha kylo]

- Sup From My Mouth by @atlinmerrick​ [Kylux Adjacent] Dolly Oblonskaya never precisely introduces her old friend to her children’s new tutor, no. She does put one lonely man in a room with the other again and again and again...and to her delight Konstantin Levin and Francisco Garupe take care of the rest. Or, this is the story of how an idealistic young Russian aristocrat helps heal a mourning young Jesuit priest, one very cold Moscow winter. [E, 58k words, no warnings, Fransisco Garupe/Konstantin Levin]

- Lighting the Fuse by hey_honey "What is going on?" Phasma asked when Hux returned from his meeting with Leia looking pale. He stared at her. "The Queen's son agreed to marry a First Order official on one condition," he said. "And?" Phasma encouraged. "That official has to be me," he said. [E, 30k words, no warnings, omega ben & alpha armitage, mpreg, ben is ruler of naboo]

- Across the Stars, I am Home by @venetumdrabbler [WIP] Before leaving to go undercover in the First Order, Armitage Hux had made promises. Keep an eye and report when able to the republic, and later the resistance. Keep tabs on the dark force user Snoke. And most important of all: Bring Ben Solo home. So far Hux had managed, or was managing, 2 out 3. Then there is an awakening. [M, 42k words, no warnings, jedi armitage au, slow burn]

- Pro Nobis Solum by CarelessHux (AraSigyrn)     Kylo Ren wakes after Starkiller.  Alone. [M, 8k words, no warnings, post tfa au, established relationship]

- sisyphus rolls his boulder to the top by yogurtgun     While trying to convince Rey to turn to the Dark on the Steadfast, Kylo feels Hux's presence in the Force disappear. [T, 6.7k words, warnings for violence, tros fix-it, temporary character death]

- i can make your dreams come by claquesous It feels like the small hours of the morning, the blurry in-between Hux calls early and Kylo calls late. “Can’t even make it through the night without a pillow to hump, can you?” Hux sneers. [E, 3k words, no warnings, somnophilia, sub kylo & dom hux]

- Knot Finished by Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi  Kylo learns a bit more about Arkanis physiology through practical demonstrations. [E, 2k words, no warnings, hux is alien, top hux & bottom kylo]

- 90 Day Fiancé by @bostarsky​ & @sunnywritesstuff​ “Maybe that means you’ll be more inclined to choose me,” Hux hints, glancing over at a drone buzzing by with a sneaky look on his face. Perfect, he’ll create as much support for himself with the public as possible. "What I choose doesn’t matter,” he croons, making it sound as romantic as he possibly can to hide the true meaning of the words. [E, 38.5k words, no warnings, alpha hux & omega kylo, kylo amidala, creepy snoke]

- What if We Tried Again? by @penpenhooray​ Perhaps, but did Pryde bother to check if he was actually dead?Armitage Hux may be many things, but a fool was not one of them. So rather than stay with the First Order and watch it burn, Hux decides that faking his death would be preferable, leaving him free to tie up his one loose end. His ex-husband, Kylo Ren. But what happens when Ren...isn't quite Ren anymore, but just as "dead" as Hux? What happens if they face their feelings surrounding their failed marriage? What if they dared to try again? [T, 2.7k words, no warnings, tros fix-it, mpreg & miscarriage]

- Where Do You Go When You're Lonely? by @vadianna​ Fresh off a grueling undercover mission on an unpleasant Outer Rim planet, Kylo Ren wants to eat, drink, and sleep. Unfortunately, Hux is sitting at the only bar in the area. Thinking that Hux is there to brief him, Kylo soon realizes that Hux is off-duty, and has also never seen him without his helmet on.  Things escalate, and the two wind up finishing Kylo's mission together as they both get to know each other. [E, 29.3k words, no warnings, false identity, bottom kylo & top hux]

- Team Hux or Team Ren? by AdamJensens General Hux overhears a conversation between stormtroopers that opens his eyes to a competition between the troops of the First Order. He discovers his subordinates are not only loyal and devoted but also obsessed – Hux has fans. So does Kylo Ren, and there's a kind of war going on between the two groups calling themselves Team Hux and Team Ren. What Hux doesn't know yet is that there's a third group solely focused on shipping the two co–commanders. There's fanfiction, fanart and all kinds of crazy theories. Shipping, as Hux will soon discover, is a serious business. [E, 11.5k words, no warnings, crack treated seriously, mutual pining]

- Under Covers of Darkness by Camellia Cook (thekurosakiconundrum) Alpha twins Ben and Kylo have a somewhat unusual arrangement with their mate Hux: they're together, all three of them, and it's not strictly a Hux-in-the-middle situation. [E, 3.3k words, no warnings, threesome, sibling incest alpha ben & alpha kylo & omega hux]

- Share the Load by @emperorsvornskr​ Hux runs into Kylo while dealing with his unique Arkanan biology- and Kylo is dealing with some self confidence issues. It's a match tailor made for the both of them. [E, 6.1k words, no warnings, alien armitage hux, trans kylo, eggs]

- Safety in his arms by @redcole​ Kylo knows it's time to bond with Hux, he just wants to make sure that his intentions are clear. After all, it isn't often that an omega courts an alpha. [M, 3.2k words, no warnings, omega kylo & alpha hux, mpreg]

- Horny Hearts by @rattlesnake777​ [Kylux Adjacent] Techie has a new flatmate called Matt and all he can really think about is doing it with him... [E, 18.3k words, no warnings, Clan Techie/Matt The Radar Tech, modern au, misunderstandings]

- Collars and Kisses by koi_boi Kylo loves his little fox and has missed him dearly after a long mission away. Hux, not so much, or so Kylo thinks. Then he actually thinks for once and comes to A Realization™. They fuck, they cuddle, then they get soft and tender. Disgusting. [E, 3.4k, no warnings, fox hux, fluff & smut, dom kylo & sub hux]

- the chancellor's gift by @thethespacecoyote​ Supreme Leader Kylo Ren goes on a mission to retrieve something invaluable for his lightsaber-obsessed chancellor. However, his plans for presenting the treasure to Hux are unfortunately derailed when a group of insurgents kidnap the chancellor and hold him hostage, threatening both Hux's life, and the life of their unborn pup. It seems, even years into their reign, that there are still enemies foolish enough to try to take from Kylo what's his. [M, 5.3k words, warnings for violence, alpha kylo & omega hux, mpreg, protective kylo]

- Entrapped by @kyluxtrashpit​ While searching for a mysterious Force artifact for Snoke, a squadron of Stormtroopers goes missing. Kylo insists on going out alone then, certain he can find and face down whatever might have killed them and succeed in getting the artifact. The creature responsible, however, has other plans for him. [E, 3.4k words, rape/noncon, tentacle sex, protective hux]

- Your Chain Around My Neck by @bastila-s​ After the council meeting about the Sith fleet, Kylo asks Hux to stay behind and "prove" he isn't a spy. [E, 3.6k words, no warnings but dubcon tag, power dynamics, smut, dom kylo & sub hux]

- Regret by @abraxas-drake​ Kylo tries to get Hux to relax under the guise of a work discussion. When things go terribly wrong, Hux must rely on the new Supreme Leader to save his life. [E, 3.8k words, warnings for violence and threats of noncon, alpha kylo & omega hux, protective kylo, forced into heat]

- Invasion by sigo Hux was seated at the long durasteel table in the Steadfast’s largest conference room, Enric Pryde on his left and Mitaka presenting his findings to the group standing on his right, when he felt it: Ren’s hands on his chest, running hot down his skin below his uniform. [E, 2.9k words, no warnings, pwp, bottom hux & top kylo, force sex, semi-public sex]

- In His Grasp by @cosleia​ Kylo Ren doesn't understand why General Hux is shirking his duty over a simple injury. When he tries to find out, though, he learns more than he bargained for...about the general, and about himself. [M, 4.1k words, post-tlj, pining, hand-feeding]

- Heat Sink by @sparrows-trashcan​ Kylo Ren is an omega but so is General Hux. While Hux doesn't mind everyone knowing that his preference is limited to male omegas Kylo Ren is shamed to feel the same. Everything changes after the Starkiller incident: Kylo Ren is in heat and there is only one person on the Finalizer who could possibly help him... [E, 4.2k words, no warnings, omega hux & omega kylo, smut]

- Distraction by @kyluxtrashpit​ Kylo needs a distraction from his hopeless pining over his co-commander, who he's sure he can never have. So he turns to the Knights of Ren to keep his mind - and body - busy. When Hux walks in on the events, however, Kylo learns that perhaps his feelings aren't a lost cause after all. [E, 3.6k words, no warnings, kylo/knights of ren, group sex]

- Between the Stars by Kittens The Finalizer's medical team does not want to deal with Kylo Ren. When he ends up injured during a mission, it's up to Hux to take care of him. It's not exactly what Hux is good at, but for Kylo it means everything. [T, 3.9k words, no warnings, hurt/comfort, bathing]

- Switch Up, Love Eternal by @onewhositswiththeturtles​ When Ren damages consoles aboard the Finalizer during a tantrum, Hux summons him for some much-deserved discipline. Perhaps there would be some hope for Ren learning the error of his ways if he wasn't such a whore for punishment. [E, 3.4k words, no warnings, dom/sub switching, smut]

- Across the Stars (To Find You) by Lady_Faulkner While on a mission for Snoke, Kylo Ren gets kidnapped by pirates and it's up to General Hux to track him down and rescue him before he's sold on the black market. Along the way, Hux discovers that his feelings of hatred for Kylo Ren have been masking another emotion altogether. [E, 10.9k, no warnings, kidnapping, hurt kylo]

- Doom's Desire by @nerdherderette​ Hux never expected to find a jewel worthy of the Empire's crown in an Outer Rim desert wasteland. [E, 10.3k words, no warnings, canon au, gladiator fighter kylo, emperor hux]

- Empire Day Miracle by coldashes         Kylo just wants to relax, to be surrounded by people is to be surrounded by the Force. Except this is the First Order's Empire Day officer party and things never go as well as one would hope. [E, 4.4k words, no warnings, pwp, identity mistakes, pre-tfa]

- Reptile Husbandry by koi_boi Hux is an accomplished researcher who's having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time in the field. He stumbles into a cave filled with secrets and one very large, very curious snake. Hux gets fucked in more ways than one. [E, 13.4k words, no warnings, modern/fantasy au, naga kylo & researcher hux, smut]

- Utapaun Christening by @mcducklet-blog​ Kylo Ren is determined to ensure that his children are the strongest creatures in the galaxy. Armitage Hux is willing to go along with it.Neither of them is ready for what that entails. [T, 6.6k words, no warnings, mpreg, knights of ren, peril]

- so it goes by @msbyjckals​ [WIP] Hux wakes to feel a pair of warm, calloused hands covering his. He doesn’t remember much, just the mission brief, the landing, and the cold. [M, 2.9k words, no warnings, starkiller rescue]

- Rumor Mill by @theweddingofthefoxes​ Everybody has their own suspicions about what Kylo Ren and General Hux get up to in private, but the truth is far more tender than anyone would guess. [G, 1.2k words, no warnings, fluff, cuddling]

- The One with the Eggs by sigo                 Hux turned on his heel, but hardly made it two steps before running straight into Kylo Ren. He knew his face betrayed his dismay. He didn’t have time for this. “I apologize, Ren, but I must be on my way.” Hux stepped to the side and Ren stepped in front of him again. Hux shivered as he felt another dropping sensation inside himself. This time the ‘drop’ completed its path — the inside of his pants was wet, cold gel trickling at a glacial pace down his thighs. Of course, that was nothing compared to what lay ahead. “Ren,” He said sharply. His voice was higher, raising in pitch the way it always did when he was panicked. “I am ill. Let me through.” Ren spoke through his ridiculous helmet, voice distorted. “We have a meeting.” [E, 4.8k, no warnings, alien hux, eggs, bottom kylo & top hux]

- Shadow Of Your Heart by @pangolinpirate​ & @redcole​ & @starkillersbae​ [WIP] After the fall of the empire Luke Skywalker fought a rising evil in the outer rim, a villain named Snoke who tormented his young nephew. With Snoke defeated, Leia sent her son to be trained as part of the new order of jedi, in the hopes that it would keep him safe. [E, 22.7k words, no warnings, omega kylo & alpha kylo, mpreg]

- Clear From Far Away by @pizzzazlut​ “But most of all, curse Kylo bloody Ren for having a chest that sparked pure, unadulterated arousal that has Hux humping his pillow like a fucking virgin.” Or the one where Hux is just trying to get off but his Supreme Leader just won't leave him alone. [E, 1.8k words, no warnings but dubcon, pillow humping]

- Tripped Over A Mouse Droid by @milarca​ & @ranebowstitches​ Hux gets injured while working, and Kylo finds him in the medbay. Who knew mouse droids could be so dangerous? [G, 3k words, no warnings, hurt/comfort, alpha kylo & omega hux]

- with you by @msbyjckals​ “You know I love you, right?” Ren said. “Of course I know that, I’ve always had you; you’ve always been mine.” [T, 1k words, no warnings, sleepy cuddles, soft domestic fluff]

- Unexpected Avenues by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof​ [WIP, Mitaka/Hux] No one wanted to take this particularly grisly task, but Dopheld is glad it fell to him when he realises that all is not as it seems. Can he make a new life on the run with his ex, now that everything he thought he knew has been turned upside down? [E, 84k words, omega hux & alpha kylo & alpha mitaka, mpreg, post-tros]

- Who Needs The Galaxy When There's You? by Mesmeret         Kylo is a simple, lonely smuggler with no one since his accident a decade ago. Or so he thought before his twelve year old daughter retrieves him to help out his long forgotten husband with a bothersome heat. [E, 7.7k words, no warnings, alpha kylo & omega hux, amnesia, smuggler kylo & mandalorian hux]

- By the Will of the Gods by @darktenshi17​ Armitage is chosen to be a sacrifice to his gods in return for his village's protection. It's not the gods who find him out in the woods. [E, 1.9k words, no warnings but dubcon, fantasy/medieval au,

- The Fall of Yesterday by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof​  [WIP] Seven years after Exegol, a nameless sailor works a thankless job onboard an Arkanis pearl harvester and fails to forget all the things he has lost. When the ship arrives at a new port all he wants to do is find a place to sleep through his shore leave. He might find more than that. [E, 10k words, no warnings, tros fix-it, alpha kylo & omega hux]

- Special Delivery by DaisyChainz Hux orders a toy that's supposed to be 'discreetly packaged', but when his hot mailman brings it directly to his front door, he finds out it is definitely not. [E, 3.3k words, no warnings, modern au, smut]

- Most Wanted by @pizzzazlut​ When the most prolific serial killer the city of Arkanis has ever seen is finally arrested and awaiting trial, it takes two of the cities most respected lawyers to represent the culprit and the victims. The only problem is that Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux haven't interacted since law school and will now have to work against each other to win the career-building case of a lifetime. Or The one where Kylo and Hux are rival lawyers with too much history but an equal amount of hate for Snoke. [E, 12.6k words, warnings for violence, modern au, murders and blood]

- Devotion by @kyluxtrashpit​ The Emperor loves to hear about his devoted hound's successful missions, ideally in as much detail as possible. Kylo does not disappoint. [E, 1.9k, no warnings, smut, emperor hux & hound kylo]

- three's a crowd by @thethespacecoyote​ Ren Prime catches Ben sneaking a First Order cadet onboard, and decides an unorthodox kind of punishment is in order. [E, 1.4k words, no warnings, ren prime, smut, voyeurism]

- If we have each other (the world is ours to conquer) by                    thereisnocowboyemoji “You think, what, that I have feelings for her?” “Please, Ren, do not dare try to insult my intelligence.” [G, 1.3k, no warnings, married kylux, mpreg, jealousy]

- In the Vents by @kyluxtrashpit​ Hux returns from his shift to find the bottom half of Kylo sticking out of the heating vent. Kylo is stuck and Hux isn't one to let opportunities pass him by. [E, 2k words, no warnings, pwp]

- the monster in your bed by @thethespacecoyote​ In the dead of night, something terrifying and lascivious comes to a sleeping General Hux. [E, 2k words, no warnings, consensual noncon roleplay, sub hux & dom kylo]

- Old Hornington Rides Again by oorsprong “Don’t be vulgar.” Of course he remembered. The embarrassing nickname had somehow become part of the whole taboo. Sex in the conference room in the early hours; Hux naked but for his boots and his hat and taunting Kylo with dirty talk. Kylo worshiped his cock in those days, treated it with reverence. “I could do it again.” [E, 1.3k words, no warnings, smut, old married kylux]

- His Purpose by partialresonance When Hux hears Snoke's voice in his mind, he thinks it's a caffeine hallucination. Until the voice plants an insidious purpose that Hux has no choice but to fulfill. Thankfully, Kylo is there to save him. Little does he know that the sinister presence was targeting him all along. [M, 5.6k words, no warnings, suicide attempt, mind manipulation, love confessions]  

- Mariner’s Hollo by Eirean Whilst on a diplomatic mission, Kylo is invited to take part in the planet’s ancient ritual, and demands that the Grand Marshall accompany him. Said Grand Marshall is deeply unimpressed by the whole thing. [E, 9.7k words, no warnings, enemies to lovers, smut]

- Let It Happen by @pizzzazlut​ Armitage Hux re-analyzed all his life choices up to this point and could not come up with anything as careless as this. Or the one where Ren joins Kylo and Hux in bed because he doesn't like being left out. [E, 2k words, ren prime, threesome]

- Come On And Slam by @thediktatortot​ Hux and Kylo invite Ren Prime into their chambers and get more than they bargain for. [E, 1.9k words, no warnings, ren prime, threesome]

- A Passing Madness by moreless “It’s a gift,” says Ren simply, folding his large hands behind his back. His gaze moves between the lightsaber and Hux. “It used to belong to the Jedi traitor Mace Windu. It reminded me of you.” Two steps forward, one step back. Another step back. That's how their relationship works. Even now. [T, 1.9k words, no warnings, duel of the fates au, power dynamics]

- Our Impeccable Leadership by roseofgalaxies The Supreme Leader and his treacherous General have begun to collaborate with unexpected success. There's only one problem: Ren's stopped wearing a shirt. [E, 4.8k words, no warnings, lego holiday special, body worship]

- Giving In by Kyram (BrokenApril) Hux has a mission. Millions of lives are on the line, yet Ren's presence teases him. He's desperate to give in even if his job will become all the harder. [T, 2.2k words, no warnings, touch starvation, force sensitive hux]

- to lay your armor down by surrenderer Once in a while, the Supreme Leader likes to wear his Chancellor’s greatcoat around the Capitol building. [M, 661 words, no warnings, role reversal, force sensitive hux & force null kylo]

- Benefits of Force Sensitivity by Kittens After the surprising change in his relationship with Ren, Hux has a lot to think about. But they also have a mission to complete and that may have unintended consequences. [M, 4.3k words, no warnings, force sensitive hux, cuddling]

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 3)

Chapter summary: The morning after, and you and Aaron are getting back to your old routines, and you go to the BAU for the first time.

Warnings: mentions of smut, but nothing really explicit.

A/N: thank you all so SO much for reading this story!! i love that you all are enjoying it! icymi, i went ahead and put up an intro + blog rules that you can read here!! Please, please read these are they do apply to this story!

masterlist || read on ao3

And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end

Masters of the scene

We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more

You know what I mean

-ABBA, “Voulez-Vous”

~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee wafting throughout your apartment. Still half asleep, you slowly blinked your eyes open and slid out of bed. You cursed to yourself as you stood up; your whole body was sore. A small grin grew on your face as you realized exactly why you were sore, the memories from last night coming back to you.

You walked out of your bedroom to your kitchen, where you were greeted with the gorgeous view of Aaron, hair wet and still in just the sweatpants he borrowed. Clothes from last night were scattered around the living room, untouched. “Mornin’,” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked wide awake. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind, I took a shower and made some coffee,” he greeted.

“It’s fine, as long as you made enough for me,” you told him through a yawn, although it was unnecessary, considering you were almost positive that he prepared you some coffee already. Mornings after with Aaron weren’t exactly domestic, per say, but they were efficient and friendly. Both of you knew you had your lives to get to, and you were willing to help out the other one to make sure they succeeded. The routine worked, and you had grown to look forward to it.

Aaron just chuckled and pointed to your refrigerator. “Already done. You still take it iced with caramel syrup, right?”

If the fact that Aaron remembered your coffee preferences after so long made your heart skip a beat, you elected to ignore it. It’s not like it was a complicated order. Instead you just sauntered towards the fridge, brushing past Aaron’s bare skin on your way over.

Aaron turned to look at you as you grabbed the drink out of the fridge. Now that you were more awake, you could actually take in Aaron in all of his morning after glory. Even with it damp, his hair was fluffier and falling into his eyes, free from any styling product he usually used. His shoulders were relaxed and, you noticed with a smirk, broader than they were before. So he had been working out...

It wasn’t until you got to his bare torso that a soft gasp left your lips, your heart sinking to your stomach. There were nine, almost identical scars, all raised and seemingly staring right at you. You had been so distracted last night that you hadn’t noticed them, but now you weren’t sure how you didn’t see them. They looked healed, but they weren’t faded much, and they definitely weren’t there last time you saw Aaron.

“Aaron,” you whispered, unable to take your eyes off the thick white lines covering him. “What happened?” Almost as if you were in a trance, you reached out to him, wanting to run your fingers over the scars.

Aaron moved to the side quickly so that he was out of your reach, his eyes hardening. He immediately went into defensive mode. “Nothing that you need to be concerned about,” he said firmly, signifying the end of the conversation.

Really, he should have known you well enough to know that you would keep pressing him. “Are you okay?” you continued, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Aaron walked towards his discarded shirt from last night, putting it on quickly so that the scars could be out of sight. “These weren’t meant to kill me,” he said finally, sadness seeping into his words.

That’s what made you decide to drop the topic. If the scars weren’t meant to kill Aaron, then they were probably supposed to be a torturous reminder, and based on his reaction, it was working. You also figured that it wasn’t just any serial killer who gave those to him, and bringing up his dead ex-wife's murderer wasn’t part of the lighthearted banter the two of you had perfected.

Clearing your throat, you quickly shifted the topic to fill the silence that was hanging over the two of you. You lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the countertop. “So... what time should I be at the BAU?”

Aaron finished buttoning up his shirt and was now reaching for his slacks, his back still turned to you. But his shoulders looked like they relaxed, even a little bit. He was grateful at the subject change. “As soon as you can. We want to try and wrap up this case as quickly as possible.”

“Shit, I still have to shower and get ready. You should have woken me up when you woke up,” you mused, taking a sip of your coffee.

Now fully dressed in the suit he wore yesterday, Aaron turned back to face you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile. “I tried,” he explained, slowly letting down his defenses again. “It was hard to tell with the covers you pulled over your head, but I think you told me to go fuck myself or something?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he made his way back towards you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you and standing in the space between your legs.

You just shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. “What can I say? I was spent last night and needed my rest,” you told him, feigning innocence.

If Aaron was trying to hide the pride in his eyes at your comment, he didn’t do a very good job at it. His eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “I should get going soon,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. “I still need to stop by my house to get a change of clothes.”

You placed your coffee to the side of you so that your hands were free to cup the sides of his face. “Probably,” you agreed, but you were still leaning towards Aaron. “But you’re the boss. Who’s going to get you in trouble if you’re a few minutes late?”

Your forehead was pressed against his by now and your thumbs were stroking his cheeks. You could see the desire in Aaron’s eyes, which you were sure was reflected in your own eyes, but instead of taking you right there on the counter like you were hoping he would, Aaron simply pressed his lips to yours, just long enough to leave you desperate for more.

“As tempting as the offer is,” he murmured, his lips still brushing yours. “I really do need to get to work to prepare for our meeting today. And... I’ll need the time to field all the questions I’m sure Dave will have for me about my sudden departure yesterday.” He added the last part as an afterthought, as if he just remembered that the entire BAU was watching the interrogation from yesterday.

You pulled away from Aaron ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow. “They know you’re here?”

Aaron shook his head, much to your relief. You weren’t sure if you would be able to face his entire team if they were all aware you had been sleeping with their unit chief. “Just David,” he admitted. “And that’s only because he figured it out before I could even come up with an explanation. But he covered for me and told the rest of them you were just one of Sean’s old friends, so if any of them ask…”

His words trailed off, but you understood what he was implying. You raised your hands in faux surrender. “Got it, don’t need to tell me twice. And don’t worry, no more flirting in front of your coworkers. I will be the epitome of a professional law intern. I can be a good girl when I want,” you teased, and you were rewarded as his eyes darkened.

“The way you said that makes me think you can’t,” he told you, his voice low.

You laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. The kiss was slow and deliberate and you could feel his lips curling into a smile. Aaron’s hand reached up to cup the back of your head, pulling you in closer to him. There was an unusual softness to the kiss, and you were surprised to realize that you liked it.

You pulled away reluctantly, looking directly into Aaron’s eyes. “You should go to work,” you reminded him. “I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron stepped away from you and made his way to the door, patting down his pockets to make sure he had everything. You slid off the kitchen counter, watching his every movement. Aaron hesitated as he reached for the doorknob and instead of just walking right out, he turned around to look at you. “When you said yesterday ‘If you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces’... Did you mean it, or was that just to get a reaction out of me?”

His words were hesitant and vulnerable, which was so unlike him that it took you a second to respond. You realized slowly what he was insinuating: He wanted to keep seeing you. The thought made you happier than you had expected, but that was something to unpack way later.

You kept your voice light in your reply, hoping to calm his nerves. “A little bit of both,” you joked, and Aaron gave you a small smile. “But to answer the inevitable next question, I also would like to see you again and continue this. At least, that’s what I’m assuming what you were going to ask, considering the amount of times you said I was yours last night. ‘My cock whore’ is a new one.”

Aaron let out a breathy chuckle, nodding to himself. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t have to. The two of you knew the rules to this relationship, and it was already coming back like it was second nature. So instead, Aaron just opened the door, leaving you with a “I’ll see you at the BAU.”

~~~~~~~

Luckily for Aaron, his house was on the way to the FBI headquarters, so he was able to change clothes and be in his office in only 30 minutes. He wasn’t there as early as he usually was, but it was still early enough as to not raise any suspicion, and nobody questioned it when he made a beeline to his office, giving general greetings to the people he passed.

When he sat down at his desk, Aaron really did have every intention to do the paperwork that was slowly piling up and consuming his entire office, but his mind was wandering too much to focus on bureaucratic red tape. Flashes of the night before sped through his mind.

He remembered the way Y/N begged for him to touch her and how good his name sounded coming from her lips. He remembered her face as she was pressed against the wall and the almost animalistic smile she had given him when he had his hand wrapped around her throat. He thought about how beautiful she looked as she was coming down from her orgasm, mascara tears running down her face, hair tangled and sticking in every direction, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, and the adoration in her eyes as he muttered praises to her.

Aaron hadn’t planned on asking to continue the situation he had with her. Last night was supposed to be the only time, considering the amount of baggage that came with that relationship for Aaron. He and Haley had technically been divorced when he first met Y/N, but it was just barely and it just toed the line of being a full blown affair. Going back to Y/N now could potentially complicate everything and bring up feelings about Haley that he had buried. But Aaron couldn’t deny that being with Y/N was a welcome distraction. There was no pressure to be “on” all the time. He didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt more at peace than he had in a long time.

“He needs to know you weren’t always so serious…”

A knocking on his office door shook Aaron out of his thoughts. His head shot up to see Rossi, who was leaning against the door frame with a knowing look in his eyes. “You know,” Rossi started before Aaron could even get a word out. He walked into the office and made sure to close the door behind him. “Pretending to do work is more effective when you actually have a file in front of you.”

Aaron audibly exhaled, gesturing for Rossi to take a seat, although it was just a formality; Rossi was going to talk to Aaron about the situation whether or not Aaron wanted to. Rossi leaned back in the chair and quirked up his eyebrows. “How was your night?” he asked, holding back his amused laughter.

“It was fine,” Aaron said in his monotone voice, but it was no use. Rossi just stared Aaron down, patiently waiting for Aaron to elaborate.

“Are you going to see her again?” Rossi pressed, and this time it was hard for Aaron to hide his smile.

Instead, Aaron just side eyed Rossi for a quiet moment. “I am,” he said finally before reaching for one of the files. He really did have to start on that paperwork, and maybe it would send Rossi a hint.

It did not. Rossi nodded approvingly at Aaron’s declaration of seeing this woman again and placed one of his hands on Aaron’s desk. “I’m glad. I think dating will be good for you. Getting back out there is healthy, Aaron.”

Aaron went completely still, thinking of the best way to respond to Rossi. “We are… not exactly dating,” he said slowly, ignoring the shock that flashed past Rossi’s face. For as close as Rossi and Aaron were, their sex lives didn’t come up in conversation much, and Aaron certainly didn’t have the reputation Rossi did. “And I would appreciate it if this stayed between us, at least until after the case. I know how quickly gossip spreads in this office, and I shudder to think what will happen once Garcia gets this information.”

Rossi chuckled and made a zipping motion over his mouth. “My lips are sealed. I am happy for you, though. Maybe she will finally be the thing to get you out of the office on time finally.” Rossi laughed to himself, like he had a secret. “Even if you’ll still be up all night. At least you’ll be de-stressing.”

A knock on the office door spared Aaron from having to hear any more jokes from Rossi at his expense. “Thank you for that pep talk,” he said sarcastically to Rossi before calling out “Come in!” and putting his Unit Chief persona back on.

Emily opened the door, blissfully unaware of the conversation that was happening between the two men just seconds earlier. “Sir, Y/N is here.”

Aaron cleared his throat, ignoring Rossi’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. “Good. We will meet in the round table room, go ahead and brief her. Dave and I will be there in a few moments. Thank you, Prentiss.” Emily nodded and left the room just as quickly as she came in.

Rossi tapped on Aaron’s desk as he stood up. “That’s our cue, but mark my words, Aaron. I will learn all about this mystery girl from you, even if I have to lock you in the interrogation room to do it.”

Aaron laughed ever so slightly at that and just nodded. “I will fill you in before it gets to that,” he promised, and was surprised to realize that he meant it. Somehow over the years, Rossi had become his closest confidant, and it was comforting to know that Rossi was encouraging of this new relationship, as unconventional as it was. “But right now we have a case to focus on.”

~~~~~~~

You knew that the FBI headquarters was going to have high security, but three checkpoints seemed a little excessive to you. Nevertheless, you clipped the shiny visitor’s badge onto the waistband of your pants and waited for the elevator to take you to the correct floor.

It was weird to be going to the BAU, even if it was just for a case. It felt like you were encroaching on Aaron’s personal and professional life, something you never intended to do. You were happy being blissfully ignorant about Aaron’s coworkers. You knew a few of your names and that was all you ever needed to know. Being at the BAU was mixing up the carefully compartmentalized lives Aaron and you had built.

The elevator doors opened and you cautiously stepped out, trying to find your way around. You really should have paid more attention to Agent Prentiss when she was giving you instructions. Luckily, you were in a building full of profilers and one of them noticed your inevitable look of confusion.

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” they asked, and you nodded quickly. “I’m Agent Derek Morgan. You can follow me, I’m one of the agents on the case.”

You followed Derek through the glass doors and to one of the desks in the bullpen. He said something to another agent- Prentiss, you remembered- before gesturing for you to sit down. “Would you like a coffee or water?” Derek offered offhandedly, but his eyes were scanning you up and down, obviously trying to profile you.

Following on your promise to be professional, you had put on a nice pair of grey plaid slacks and a satin button up blouse- an outfit you had worn to your internship and to court a million times. But Derek’s gaze seemed more than just surface level profiling. It felt like he distrusted you. And then it hit you. He was probably watching you in the interrogation room yesterday, as you shamelessly flirted with Aaron. Everyone you were about to meet probably saw it, and they were all going to try and figure you out.

It had seemed funny in the moment, when you didn’t think you would ever have to see these people again, but now? Not so much.

You idly considered taking Derek up on his offer, just to keep him from profiling you any longer, but that would just give him the opportunity to share his findings with the rest of the office. It was easier to keep him close. “No thank you,” you said finally, giving Derek a polite smile. Despite what they had seen yesterday, you were excellent at networking, and you knew how to charm a room. Getting these profilers to like you wouldn’t be too hard.

Derek studied you a little closer, but your eye contact was unwavering. “How do you know Hotch?” he asked.

Thank God Aaron had warned you about this. “I was friends with his brother, Sean,” you lied coolly. “I met Aaron through him and he was nice enough to let me interview him when my studies revolved around an old prosecuting case of Aaron’s.”

Derek looked like he wanted to ask you more questions, but you were saved by Jennifer gathering the team and you to meet in a conference room.

Despite the fact that you had met a good portion of them yesterday while being interrogated, everybody reintroduced themselves to you, albeit much friendlier. Now that you weren’t in handcuffs, the team warmed up to you quickly.

You also chose to formally introduce yourself to the team, considering that you were still probably just a file in their minds. “And I apologize for making your jobs more difficult yesterday,” you added onto the end, only half joking.

JJ- which Jennifer insisted you call her- gave you a comforting smile as she walked to the front of the room. “We understand. Interrogation rooms are designed to get those sorts of reactions.”

You were about to reply when the sound of footsteps caused you all to turn your heads towards the door. “Good, you started,” Aaron interrupted, making his way to the front of the room. “Y/N, glad you could make it.”

You just greeted him with a polite nod, before turning your focus to David Rossi, who was introducing himself to you. He had a good enough poker face, but you caught a mischievous glint in his eyes. At first, you were confused, but then you remembered that he knew Aaron came over to your place last night. Maybe he knew even more, which was an uncomfortable enough thought. You didn’t have time to focus on that at the moment.

You stood up to shake Rossi’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, really,” you said simply, your voice light and polite. You had been around the DC law scene long enough that you knew exactly how to get people to like you. “I’ve written about you and your books for my classes.”

Rossi tilted his head to the side slightly. “I didn’t realize my books translated to law courses,” he questioned, sliding into the seat next to you. You took that as your cue to sit back down.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Aaron watching the interaction carefully, causing anxiety to bubble up in your stomach. He had never seen you in a work or academic setting, with the exception of that first meeting, but that hardly counted. He had read some of your academic work, would help you with the occasional homework assignment, and even let you practice your mock trials runs with him while he gave you pointers, but he had never seen you truly in action. The thought unsettled you.

“I’m in a joint degree program,” you explained proudly. You had to make an appeal to the school to allow you to do this joint degree, and you’ve busted your ass ever since. “On top of my JD, I’m getting my masters in Forensic Psychology. I’ve studied your past cases and examined the ethical implications involving your interrogation techniques, specifically when working with offenders with severe mental health issues.”

You regretted the words as soon as you said them. To anybody else, it would have been impressive. Even some of the other profilers were intrigued by the concept, but saying it directly to David Rossi was a whole different ballpark. To his credit, he just chuckled good naturedly, seemingly completely unbothered by your comments. “I can only imagine what they’re saying,” he joked. “Interrogations are very different now than they were back when I started in the FBI.”

“Rossi,” Aaron interjected, and that word was a simple warning. He was obviously trying to stop the conversation quickly. Tension hung in the air briefly as Aaron, Rossi, and you all remembered the unspoken secret the three of you were sharing. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

[takaraphoenix]

spuffy for the ask game since you have a spuffy story coming up on your schedule?

Yes, yes I do! And sure can do! ^-^

I love Spuffy. It has been one of my absolute favorite ships from all fandoms for many years, but ever since I also read the comic continuation, I gotta say, Spuffy is the favorite ship. The most beloved of all ships I've ever sailed.

They are the embodiment of hero/villain enemies turned lovers.

And they have my favorite m/f dynamic; he's full of snark and bastard energy, but oh is he soft for her.

And they also have that thing that makes me love ships the most; it's a ship between my two favorite characters from that franchise. If a ship unites my two faves, it just instantly gains more of my love, because it means I get them both, at the same time, happy, with each other.

I love the way their dynamic slowly changes over the seasons.

I have a soft spot for early bastard secondary villain Spike, he is hilarious and Buffy's annoyance with him is delightful.

And then he has his literal oh moment of realizing he's into Buffy and he doesn't know how to handle it and he handles it in the whackiest, weirdest way possible. I mean, role playing with Harm? Having Warren build a sex bot? The incredibly awkard stalking?

But things get more serious and less of a comic relief "look at that poor bastard" when Spike becomes one of the people Buffy trusts. One of the people she trusts the most, I'd say, considering she leaves her mother and her sister with him, repeatedly.

Season 5 is such a good Spuffy season in that Spike becomes a Scooby by sheer force of will. Somewhere in my mind still lives an alternate spin where the Scoobies do escape Glory in their RV and just... have a merry roadtrip with each other.

And sure, it's easy to dismiss Spike - easy for Buffy and the other characters. Because he's a vampire, and not a fancy one with a soul like Angel. He might lust for Buffy, but it can't be love, right.

But, and that's what makes me love this ship so much, it is love, even without a soul. (It's also what makes me love Spike so much, because he is such a complex character with so much growth who was already so much more than just a vampire even without his soul.)

Him bringing flowers after Joyce died, not to somehow score points with Buffy, but because he genuinely liked Joyce and they had genuinely bonded with each other. Because he mourns, even without a soul.

And, the biggest evidence as to him genuinely loving her - he stays, when Buffy dies.

If it were all misplaces lust that he blows out of proportion, he wouldn't have stayed. Buffy was dead and since Willow, Tara and Xander didn't tell him about wanting to resurrect her, he had no reason to stay, no reason to believe she would ever be back.

But he stayed in Sunnydale. And not just to mourn and get drunked and fucked up, the way he did when Dru dumped him.

He was a Scooby. For months, he worked with them to protect Sunnydale, to fight demons, to help raise Dawn. He took on so much responsibility and for the first time truly became a hero, a good guy. He fought for the good cause, not to impress Buffy and score points with her, not out of any misplaced reasons. Solely because she was gone and he wanted to honor her legacy, he wanted to do what she would do if she were still there, he wanted to protect those she had died to protect.

I have a very complicated relationship to season 6's Spuffy. It's very self-destructive, on both parts. She's only using him, he becomes her bad coping mechanism with being brought back to life. And he knows that, but he can't stay away. Personally, I think all of Seeing Red was a huge mistake and especially after the build-up of what they had Spike do for Buffy so far without a soul, it... it felt like a whole different writer with entirely different ideas just grabbed the script and hijacked it at that point, to be quite frank. I do think that at that point in how Spike's character was established, it was OoC. Even if you try to argue that their relationship had already been a mess of mixed signals, with "I hate you, you disgust me" being followed by mindblowing sex, I still think that this was pushing things too far.

But it brought us Spike going to get his soul, so I digress.

And then comes season 7 and season 7 is just peak Spuffy. Season 7 is my happy place. Gods. The way Buffy cares for him, the way she protects him, from the others, from the First, from himself. The way she stands up for him. How she keeps choosing him.

The way they banter and raise "the children" together once he feels better.

And when everyone in an act of being incredibly, impossibly, forcibly OoC just turns their back on Buffy and also stabs hers, repeatedly, he is still there. He tells them off the way I was yelling at my screen too and then he found her and comforted her and simply held her.

And then he died. Not for her, but because he actually was a hero. And it wrecked me. (The best thing AtS ever did was bring Spike back to live, imo.)

Let's skip season 8 to the end, where he comes in as the knight in shining armor, having done his research on how to stop the apocalypse unfolding once again and how, even though she had just hooked up with Angel, she immediately starts fantasizing about Spike as soon as he's in the room? I swear, season 8 is a freaking mess.

But season 9... really hurts. That she'd come to him, of all the people she knows and loves, she comes to him when she doesn't know how to keep going, when she considers running away and raising a child, being a family. He is the person she thinks about. And he is the person she comes to for back-up when she decides to have an abortion. Whether she goes to a happy place or a dark place, in both scenarios she chose him over everyone else, to have him at her side.

And season 10 finally gives us the canon romantic relationship between them. Finally, they actually get together and it is so good. The way they communicate with each other, the way she reassures him that she chose him and no one's going to come between them, tells him that he is a good man and also finds for herself that she is not just happy in this relationship, she also finds that she loves herself more, she likes the person she is when she is with him (she literally says that).

Buffy has a freaking mind-journey, traveling into Spike's mind and seeing and feeling just how much he loves her, how regardless of what else is going on, he loves her.

They are... They are everything I always dreamed they could be in a real relationship - they have their problems, but they talk them through, they reassure and support each other, they're domestic and cute, they make each other better, not by changing the other but by supporting the other and giving each other the chance to be their best self.

When they actually are in a real relationship, neither of them is jealous. And both have shown in the past to be prone to jealousy. But when Buffy tells Spike that Angel is her past and that he is her present, he accepts that and he doesn't feel the need to be a jackass around Angel. And when Spike tells Buffy about his could-have-been Dylan, Buffy doesn't get jealous over her, no, she decides they should go to Dylan's art-show and she gets along splendidly with her.

Season 11 is an overall rough ride, I mean, they are literally locked inside an internment camp for nearly the whole season. But the Spuffy keeps you going, because they are so strong together, they make this work, together.

The season ends with them kissing, with Buffy saying "I love you" for the very first time and all Scoobies being together and it's... the picture-perfect ending to Buffy the Vampire Slayer that I could have ever imagined.

(There is no season 12 in my mind. That was Fray-centric garbage that did a disservice to Buffy as a character.)

Send me a ship and I will explain why I do or don't ship it

[dessarious]

The Angel of Death Pt42

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3   Prologue   Beginning  Previous   Next

“We’re screwed.” Tris could only sigh. She was watching the Miraculous users get tossed around by the Blake boys while their sister commented from a tablet. She couldn’t disagree with the assessment.

“They can’t be harmed by normal weapons so at least they won’t get hurt easily. It’s not something I want to do but if Talia’s not alone they’ll be good as distractions.” The oldest Blake threw Chloe into Luka while the other sent Adrien into a wall while fending off Kagami. She was the only one who could hold her own at all. She hoped they’d never get near Talia or any of the League, but she couldn’t chance them being unprepared.

“I know you don’t want to involve anyone else but it might be helpful to bring in an expert. The person who trained us is great with beginners, gets them trained fast, and is very discrete. None of us have the experience to help them properly.”  As much as she agreed with the last part, too many people already knew about the Miraculous. “I can get a hold of her if you want, or you may actually have heard of her. Gina Dupain.”

“No.” Tris could practically feel her blood pressure rising. She wasn’t about to bring her Nonna back into this after she’d managed to get her out of the line of fire. It was bad enough that her error in judgement in staying in Paris had put the others in danger. The youngest Blake let out a sigh from the screen.

“I get it. I also have some possibly good news. Well, good for you anyway.” That sounded somewhat ominous.

“Good for me how?”

“Given the timeline, it’s possible Talia’s coming here for her son, not you. As far as we can tell she was still tracking you by your jobs and only changed course when the mini al Ghul hit Paris.” Tris wasn’t sure what to think of that. Yes it meant that they were safe but given the string between Talia and Damian he was in mortal danger. She shouldn’t care about that.

“Have you told him that yet?” He and his father hadn’t been able to track her reliably before, there was no reason to think they’d managed it now.

“I did. He’s refusing to leave, even after I told him that it would help us figure out which one of you she was after. That boy seems to think he’s the only one who can save you.” Tris couldn’t stop the eyeroll. Even after she’d pinned him he still thought she needed his help.

“He’s being irrational. It would be easier to come up with a strategy if I knew her target and if she knows I’m here.” He really had gone soft, if anyone needed protected it was him.

“Males tend to get protective over someone they see as their responsibility. I don’t know exactly what your relationship is or was but he seems to be under the impression that this is his fault.”

“He’s right.” Tris let out a groan as all four Miraculous users were tied together with one bola. This was nothing but a disaster. “Which is why he needs to keep his head and do what’s necessary instead of make my life harder, again.” She needed a new plan. Maybe she really did need to send them all elsewhere until this was over.

“That’s a lot of hostility Baby Death, want to talk about it?”

“You want to talk about why you hate Talia so much?” Tris winced as soon as the words came out. She really needed to get a hold of herself. This was another reason she stayed away from people. “Sorry.”

“Nah, I deserved that. Your business is your business and I’ve already overstepped.” Tris looked back in time to see the younger Blake brother tie Adrien up with his own tail. This was just pathetic. She was out of options.

“Call Gina and set up a time for me to meet her privately to explain things. Do not tell her what it’s about or that I’m the client.” Worst case scenario she could send them off with her Nonna to protect them. Tris just had to figure out how to keep Gina from learning that Talia was involved. Yeah, she was screwed and this just kept getting more complicated. She never should have stayed in Paris.

“I can try but she’s pretty picky about her clients. Hopefully she’ll just let me vouch for you.” Tris didn’t respond. She had a feeling that just mentioning Paris would bring the woman running. She just hoped she didn’t bring reinforcements. They watched as the Blakes incapacitated all the Miraculous users, again. “I’ll be as persuasive as possible, but you might want to be coming up with contingency plans. Damian is at least trained.” Tris felt her eye twitch.

“I always have contingency plans, but he will never be a part of them.” Her eyes went to the string that led to Damian. It was still pulsing and that worried her. All of this was still too new and she had no idea what most of it meant. She couldn’t afford to have unknowns right now and that string felt… off. She was going to have to deal with it sooner rather than later no matter how much she didn’t want to go near him.

“We’re done for the night.” Tris’s announcement brought relief from everyone. “Go home and get some rest.”

“What about you?” Chloe’s voice was half concerned and half demanding.

“I have a problem to deal with.”

AO3   Prologue   Beginning  Previous    Next

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[feanorianethicsdepartment]

‘today’s silm vocaloid song: clear sky engine (クリヤスカイ機関) by nyanyannya and hara ft. rin kagamine and zunko tohoku

this one’s about elrond, maglor, and the sudden non-ending of the world. you know that thing where you build an elaborate fandom video in your head for a completely unrelated song, but you don’t have the most basic art skills you’d need to make it a reality? yeah, i square that circle by writing them out. here, have an extremely long songfic/filk/commentary/thing

It was just another day, beneath a black sky

The bustle of camp churned on around me

I wasn’t paying attention to what my hands were doing

Dreaming of a shining star-lit sky

we open on elrond, living in a world about to die. the fëanorians were forced to abandon amon ereb years ago, and now the last of the host ekes out a precarious nomadic existence, raiding deserted villages for food and losing more people they can’t replace with each battle. they’re still doing better than everyone else on the mainland, though. their blades, at least, remain sharp

(the smoke from the fires of angband has risen to cover the whole continent in dark clouds. some of the sun’s warmth still gets through, and on good nights the star of high hope is still faintly visible, but the light-filled skies of old are little more than memory. all the survivors know that the end is near. it’s only a matter of time)

He’d broken a promise he’d made to us

So I was a little more annoyed at him than usual

He chatted with me while I worked to make up for it

And I made all my usual complaints

elrond and elros are at this point... i’d say very early teens? not that they had much of a childhood; the fëanorians are so short-staffed the twins have been doing odd jobs around camp pretty much since it became clear they weren’t going to run away. today elrond is taking stock of the medical supplies, less because he has any interest in the healing arts than because it’s a job that needs doing and everyone else is busy

maglor is hovering within talking distance, doing elrond-doesn’t-care-what. the twins’ relationship with maglor is extremely complicated to say the least, their mercurial hellbeast protector who scares the shit out of everyone else they’ve ever met and who has stood between them and the darkness for as long as they can remember. recently, he promised to stay with the twins while they did something difficult, but he failed to do so for a whole host of reasons, including getting into a two-hour shrieking match with maedhros at the last possible moment. elros shrugged it off, like elros shrugs everything off, but elrond is a simmering cauldron of adolescent rage at the best of times

which is why maglor’s checking on him, giving him an outlet for his anger before it can turn into despair. because what would be the point, in the end? they’re all going to die anyway. one of the reasons maglor’s resisted sending the kids to balar so hard is that no matter where they are, eventually morgoth will sweep down and destroy them all. there’s nowhere safe left, nothing they can do to protect them. none of this is even new, it’s a shadow that’s hung over them all since the twins grew old enough to understand this

so maglor and elrond chat, or rather elrond grumbles incessantly and maglor snarks as upliftingly as he can remember to. it’s a day like any other, nothing about it to distinguish it from the hundreds that came before or however many will come after. that is, until one of the lesser minions comes over, yelling, ‘boss! boss! you have to see this!’

elrond turns around. for the first time ever, he sees true hope on her face

“Have you finally grown tired of us?” I hissed

But in that moment excitement ran round the campsite

And someone cried out with joy

“The hour we thought would never be, the return of the light, has finally come to pass!”

far, far away, the hosts of the valar are landing on the shores of beleriand. disembarking from their luminous ships, clad in radiant armour and carrying blessed weapons, their brilliance pierces the dark fog that has settled over beleriand for so long. shining like the stars come to earth, the hallowed army of valinor begins its long march towards the gates of angband. far above, ships riding jets of light slice open the smog

this news - this unexpected, unbelievable, impossible miracle bestowed unto doomed beleriand, this chance that their enemy might actually fall - is the greatest thing anyone in camp’s heard all century. maybe in more prosperous times the host would have groused about the valar finally seeing fit to get off their asses, but in this world turned to ash any chance at victory is to be celebrated. the minions throw a massive impromptu party, of the kind they haven’t since before sirion. elros is right there with them, singing off-key and laughing as loud as anyone else. even maedhros cracks a tiny relieved smile

maglor watches the festivities from the outside, more genuinely optimistic than he thought he was still capable of. elrond joins him, brow furrowed as he tries to comprehend it all. they talk

“It feels like a dream I’ll never wake up from”

“What are you blabbering about now?”

elrond is voiced by zunko, maglor by rin. the song’s more of a dialogue than a duet, so i’ll be bolding maglor’s lines

The sheet of paper I held in my hands read

“The hosts of the West have come! Our world is saved!”

the letter’s from gil-galad, or at least his administrative apparatus. it’s not even that hostile; apparently the armies of the gods showing up out of nowhere to save them all from certain doom has him in a magnanimous mood. there’s some drivel about surrendering and eärendil and all wrongs being forgiven, but neither maglor nor elrond is paying attention to it

“Hey, do you remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Love and justice and valour and hope”

“I remember the sea of blood you drowned everything in for them”

elrond didn’t really have any formal schooling - nobody had the time - but he has managed to pick up a lot of stuff from the stories the people around them tell. that the fëanorians came to middle-earth for high noble ideals, and that it was trying to fulfil those ideals that led them into darkness, is something maglor told him once, when he was in a darkly honest mood

“Haha, that’s just details, everybody makes that kind of mistake when they’re young”

“Why are you like this?”

a mood maglor’s obviously not in at the moment, if he’s laughing off the kinslayings like this; elrond knows this isn’t how he actually feels about them. normally elrond would just roll his eyes and move on with his life, but things are different today

The camp was full of laughter, as if everyone had lost their minds

elrond’s not used to happiness. not full, unironic happiness, untainted by the shadow of their inevitable death, not from the fëanorians. the sheer jubliation suffusing camp is fundamentally alien to him, a child of a world about to end. he doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that maybe they won’t all get eaten by dragons. he doesn’t know what to do with the hope in everyone’s eyes

so instead, when maglor wanders away from the party, elrond catches him with a song

“What if for one more year, ten more years, a hundred more years, the shadow still reigns?”

“Then ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years, a million years later, we’ll see it fall! For certain”

“What if I lay out all one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-eight of the fears I carry?”

“Then there’s one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-nine songs I can give to you”

maglor’s been teaching elrond how to do this, how to snatch someone into a world of music and throw your voice at them until one of you can’t take it any more. maglor wins this one, as usual; even if his song is incapable of anything but violence he’s got centuries of experience on elrond, enough to turn the sharp edges of his voice into blades in elrond’s hands. and that is what he’s doing, clumsy and harsh as he is; he’s trying to give elrond a reason to hope

elrond is the one who breaks the spell, dropping the melody, letting the music dissolve into the air. maglor flashes him a grin and walks off, humming merrily. elrond just stands there, still unable to understand

I’ve heard it before, it’s all anyone can talk about, even if I try to avoid it it stabs into my ears

cut past a decade or so, to well into the war of wrath. elrond and elros are in their mid-teens now. they’re still with the fëanorians, but these days the fëanorian warband is effectively an auxiliary unit to the amanyar army, skirting around the edges of that much larger force. for the first time in a long while, elrond and elros have regular-ish contact with people outside the fëanorian sphere of influence, mostly peripheral edain and the sindar who run messages between the camps. it’s different, talking to new people

(the sky is still covered with smog, but it’s gloomy grey, not oppressive black. the sun is faintly visible through it, most of the time. the rain is much less poisonous than it used to be, and on good nights you can almost see the moon. the closer they get to angband, the darker the clouds grow)

“It is as the gods have decreed, soon the darkness will be swept away and the Enemy will be cast down

And after the war in the purified world, we will all live happily together

Building new homes in a land unmarred by evil”

the people outside the host are much more optimistic about the future, for one. the fëanorian minions are happy morgoth is getting trounced but they don’t really talk about what comes after that, like they can’t imagine a world without war. the sindar, and especially the edain, on the other hand, have all these plans about the cities they’ll build, the arts they’ll perfect, the children they’ll raise in a world without danger. elros is super into this; he barely spends time with the fëanorians any more, he’s so busy going between different edain camps, making friends, planning for the future. elrond, though...

Even my twin knows what future to reach out for...

elrond doesn’t know what to do with any of this. the very concept that someday the war will end and the sky will clear and he’ll have a bright future is still something he doesn’t fully understand. even more, he’s defined himself for so long as not-a-fëanorian, now he’s regularly interacting with people who doubtlessly aren’t he’s having trouble figuring out what else he is. he’s stuck between people who are lowkey hoping they’ll die gloriously in battle and people who have been dreaming about what they’d do in a world without darkness all their lives, and he doesn’t know what he even wants, not really, not yet

so he keeps on living, just like he always has. he’s been promoted to sick tent dogsbody and is learning how to heal with song from the last minion who can kind of still do it. he acts as a proxy between the fëanorians and the more timid outsiders they keep running into. when he goes (or elros drags him) exploring in other camps, he keeps track of every new detail he comes across, in case it’s somehow useful later

and he keeps talking to maglor, with anger and spite and sarcasm and whatever other emotion he’s covering his uncertainties with today. maglor always listens, usually offers to help, and sometimes elrond even lets him. the fëanorian camp settles into a rhythm of buildup-fight-recovery-buildup-fight-recovery, so regular it lulls elrond into complacency. he takes the future he still doesn’t quite believe in one day at a time, until suddenly the ground crumbles beneath his feet

You say it’s to ‘fulfill our ideals’ but what you mean by that is ‘to sate our bloodlust’, I know

With their blades and teeth sharpened for battle, the kinslayers broke away from the light and disappeared into the shadows

there’s a whole mountain of reasons why, as they draw near to angband, the dregs of the fëanorian host abruptly peel off from the valinorean army and vanish into the night. they know they're more effective as a stealthy shock ambush unit, they’re somewhat concerned the amanyar will turn on them the second morgoth is no longer a problem, they're making one last desperate rush for the silmarils, all that and more. it’s not the first time they’ve suddenly packed up and left before their enemies can react, probably not even the first time they’ve done it to the hosts of valinor. there’s just one little difference

Leaving us behind? Leaving you behind

they’re not taking the twins. said twins only find out about this, like, the day before they decamp. maedhros’ justification is something about them not being able to support noncombatants on the march, but the twins believe that about as much as they believe that the fëanorians are doing this for any kind of hope. elros, of course, was half-planning on leaving anyway, going off to chase his own ambitions with his new edain posse. he copes with it pretty well, relatively

but elrond’s mind goes blank. once he thought the day they let them go would be the best day of his life, but now it’s come it feels so wrong, and this horrible coldness is seeping into him. in a flash of what feels like foresight, he suddenly knows the people who raised him will never come back. how dare - why - he can’t -

with a sharp desperate burst of sound that’s a surprise to even himself, elrond lashes out a song to catch maglor

“For ten more minutes, one more week, half a year, please, let me stay with you!”

“In a year’s time, ten years’ time, a hundred years’ time, we’ll see the starlit sky together”

“What if one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-eight times I begged you not to go?”

“Then there’s one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-nine of your other wishes I’ll hear”

and elrond just stops. he lets the song trail off, staring at maglor. he’s in an incredibly weird mood, with something that could almost be compassion in his eyes

there’s only one way he can find out what’s happening, elrond realises

“In that case - !”

maglor was never really demonstratively affectionate with the twins. it would never have come off as real on his part, and they wouldn’t have believed it in any case. still, he supported them. he let them trail behind them, all but cling to the backs of his legs, in those first horrible weeks when they were terrified of absolutely everything. he taught them to ride and he taught them to read, how to reinforce a blade with nothing but song and close a wound with needle and thread. on the darkest nights, when all the world was filled by the howling beasts of morgoth and the wailing of the unhallowed dead, he held them tight and flared his own fires high, a warm smoky bonfire between them and the void. he answered their questions, and told them stories

and sometimes, he tried to be kind

“Sing me a lullaby like the flat of a blade”

“Which one would you like?”

“I want to see a flower that will still bloom”

“I know just the one”

“I don’t care what kind of monster you are! Just please stay with me, for even one more tomorrow...”

“...I’m sorry”

“What do you mean?”

“You were given your name because your parents wanted you to see the stars someday”

it was easy for maglor to justify keeping the twins when they didn’t have a future. the shadow of death blotted out the sky, so why not hold them close for whatever little time they had left? no matter where they were, the void would soon claim them all

except it didn’t. in the end they were not forsaken. the sacred light came out of the west to burn away the darkness and finish the war he once thought they could never win. the hosts of the valar have gotten farther in decades than the noldor did in centuries, and soon enough they’ll cast the enemy down and release the world from his terrible maw. and then the future the free peoples dreamed of will stretch out before them, full of possibilities beyond measure

and that’s why maglor has to let them go. the magnificent people that elrond and elros are already becoming will only wither among hopeless kinslayers who have nothing left but the sword. to flourish into their full glorious selves, they need to be with people who dream, who can travel towards the future alongside the twins with light hearts and songs on their lips. maglor refuses to let his own darkness drown the last people in the world he does not hate. elrond deserves so, so much better than maglor is capable of giving him. he deserves to see the stars

hearing all that, there’s only one thing elrond can say

“You can’t even keep one miserable promise! Don’t pretend like you’re my father, kinslayer!”

and that’s the last elrond sees of maglor. the fëanorians vanish in the middle of the night, leaving elrond and elros (and about half a dozen minions who are taking their last possible chance to get out) behind. elros takes up with his edain buddies and starts making contacts and forging alliances. elrond winds up in gil-galad’s orbit, surrounded by people who are very understanding about how awful his childhood was, which just pisses him off more. he doesn’t throw tantrums or refuse to work, those aren’t luxuries he was raised with, but he spends a fair bit of time spurning every bit of sympathy and aid he’s offered and trying not to cry himself to sleep

with time, though, he finds a place. it starts with círdan, the first person who believes elrond about what his time with the fëanorians was like. then he befriends erestor, and then gil-galad starts actually respecting the way elrond feels, and then he gets officially taken on as an apprentice healer. he starts learning about his own ancestors and their peoples, and reaching out for stories he never knew could be his. as the final battle of the iron hells begins, elrond is doing... better

and soon, the hope that no one in beleriand once dreamed would be fulfilled becomes a reality

And then, as if it had never held power, the darkness was cast down...

they win the war. the armies of angband are crushed. the peaks of thangorodrim are torn down. the prisoners of the deepest pits of the iron hells are freed. the forces of evil are scattered to the four winds. morgoth, the fallen vala himself, is defeated and captured and bound with great chains, unable to ever hurt anyone again. the precious remnants of the light of the trees, the remaining two silmarils, are recovered. the dark clouds evaporate, and for the first time elrond can remember, the sky is perfectly clear. the war of the jewels is finally over

elrond has grown so much since the day he first heard that the hosts of the west had come. he still can’t quite believe it

They held a great celebration beneath a star-speckled sky I’d never seen before

“The world is saved and we are freed! Evil has been vanquished forevermore”

The triumphant voices of the generals poured out over the victory feast while the stars shone true above the happy ending

the soldiers of valinor and the people of beleriand (what’s left of them) throw a truly massive party. it’s still tinged with their grief over everything they’ve lost, but the atmosphere is primarily one of ecstatic relief. they’re alive, and they’ve come out the other side. dwarvish tailors dance with high maiar, humans who don’t remember the moon get drunk with elves who remember cuiviénen. even after the official festivities die down and people start hashing out what they want to do next, the general mood remains buoyant and cheerful. at long last, they live in a world without danger

none of it feels real to elrond. gil-galad’s talking about building a kingdom on the other side of the blue mountains, elros and his grand edain alliance are trying to bully the maiar into letting them set up on tol eressëa, and elrond feels so disconnected from it all, like he’s watching someone else’s life. he’s happy the enemy has been overcome, of course he is, but he’s not feeling the overwhelming joy everyone else is. he can’t let his guard down yet, something is still wrong -

Except he hasn’t come back, they haven’t come back, where did they go, what have they done?

The word raced around as fast as the wind, giving me an answer I never wanted to hear -

where is maglor? the fëanorians broke off to fight the war their own way, but the war is over now, where are they? they were so happy to hear that the amanyar had arrived, he can’t imagine them not thrilled to see the enemy they hated more than anything else fall. in the warm afterglow of victory, it feels like even their sins might be forgiven, and they could finally go home. they have nothing else left; why wouldn’t they take that outstretched hand?

but nobody’s so much as glimpsed their flag since some time before the final battle. elrond quietly assumes, perhaps even hopes, that they all died fighting, and yet he can’t shake the cold dread crawling up his spine

elrond has mixed feelings about the silmarils, and doesn’t particularly care to be near them. by the time the news of their theft reaches him, maedhros and maglor have already fled into the night

Still driven on by their oath, they turned their blades on their kin one last time

“And stole away the hallowed light”

Yes, that light which sank all of our lands beneath a deep dark layer of corpses and ash

all elrond sees is the aftermath, the blood sinking into the ground. it’s far from the first time he’s seen people killed, but somehow now it’s all hitting him, all at once. he sees the bodies and it knocks the breath out of him. all he can see is the dead, from finwë on down, the rotting carcasses of every last person who was slaughtered for these gems, a whole continent bleached with death. they call the silmarils the most beautiful things in the world, jewels shining with the very light of creation, but elrond can’t see it for the blood they’re dripping with

that’s the immediate thing that has his hands shaking and his breath running cold. by morning it’s had a chance to sink in a little, and -

He lied he lied he lied he lied

maglor regretted the kinslayings! elrond knows he did! it was never even something he actually said, it was obvious from the way he talked about them. every single one was a complete disaster, nothing the fëanorians ever got out of them was worth what they lost in the process, and afterwards things always got worse in ways they never expected. and maglor hated the person the kinslayings had turned him into, elrond spent enough time around him to pick up on that much! surely he’d do anything to not have to commit another one?

apparently not! apparently all that regret, all that loss, the arguments and the nightmares and the coldly determined efforts to stop them following his path, it all meant nothing! he still gave in to despair or maedhros or whatever, killed yet more people, stole from the army whose return he said was like a dream come to life, spat in the face of his last chance to go home, and vanished! gil-galad’s people were right! he really is nothing more than a monster!

the shock of it all makes something snap in elrond, whatever fragile optimism he absorbed from the people around him draining away until he feels completely hollow. hundreds of years of suffering and death, and for what?

Smeared with the blood of untold hundreds, untold thousands, untold millions of people

Did they buy us peace for even half a year, even a week, even ten minutes?

Noooooooo!

Even the very land we lived on crumbled and drowned

What was the point?! What was the point?! What was the point?!

I feel like I’m going insaaaaaaane

morgoth may have fallen, but beleriand is dead! nothing remains, not the lush green lands of the stories, or even the dessicated forests of his childhood, just desolate earth and the devouring sea. almost everywhere he’s ever known, almost everyone who lived and fought and dreamed there, are lost forever. nothing was saved, everything was destroyed, what good is a clear blue sky when there’s nothing beneath it?! how can they call this a happy ending?!

elrond can’t see any light here, all the great battles and heroic deeds seem absolutely pointless in the face of everyone and everything immolated in the endless grasping for these gems. the hosts of valinor leave the continent they shattered, the remnants of gil-galad’s people escape the raging forces of nature, and the survivors bicker and fight over resources just like the fëanorian minions elrond grew up around. the world is never going to get better, he realises. the dream of a paradise will never come true

and then one night, running a message down the craggy still-turbulent coastline, he hears a snatch of a distant, familiar voice

I can hear a voice whittled away to a weapon singing what could almost be a lullaby -

elrond leaps off the ridge and onto the rocky beach, scrambling over the uneven ground. he’s heard the rumours about where maedhros and/or maglor went - all of them, there’s dozens of them, he didn’t pay any particular heed to the ones where maglor wandered the coast, but if they were right, if he’s here -

his own voice has grown strong over the years, solid and forceful and mature. elrond screams his song into the emptiness, hoping against hope it will be heard

“What if for one more year, ten more years, a hundred more years, the shadow still reigns?”

“Then ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years, a million years later, we’ll see it fall! Isn’t that so?!”

“What if I lay out all one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-eight of the griefs I carry?”

“Then there’s one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-nine days for you to live!”

“That must be it...”

the impression of a hand touching his cheek, the ghost of a smile. for a moment someone else’s voice slips into the ebb and flow of his song, a shadow reaches out to wipe the tears off his face. live, it whispers. you who i held dearest last, live

elrond’s breath catches in his throat, and the song, and the shadow, vanish. it’s just him on a forsaken beach, the only sounds the waves crashing and the gulls calling. the sky is completely overcast, the clouds dull and grey. he watches them drift along for a while, as his pulse slows down and his airways clear up. live, the word echoes in his mind

he waits until his breathing is back to normal and the churning emotions inside him have settled into a form he can handle. then he wipes his face and clambers back onto the ridge

(life. it’s not much, but it’s enough. it has to be. his home is destroyed, but he is alive; his family is broken, but he is alive. he is alive, and they want him to live, as much as he can while he still has a chance. the world he lives in will never be perfect, but he knows how to work with that)

(and besides - elros, círdan, gil-galad, erestor, the other healers, the small knot of elves of all stripes who seem determined to follow his banner. he hasn’t lost everything, not yet, and he won’t let the world take away what he has left. he’ll never abandon those he loves)

the clouds are lightening. soon the stars will be out. elrond takes a deep breath, and starts running towards his future and the person he’s going to be -

thousands of years later, a memory resurfaces

“Two million, two hundred and forty-one thousand, five hundred and thirty-nine days... Ah, yes. I know I forgot to say it earlier, but you did a very good job”

a smattering of notes are lifted by the ocean breeze. they travel inland, across the worn-down mountains, around the weathered hills, above the tangled forests, up the untamed rivers, and finally into the hidden valley

in the gardens of imladris, lord elrond hears a voice he hasn’t for millennia. a watering can slips out of his hands, and suddenly he can’t breathe

It was just another day, beneath a dark sky

The ocean and the wind roared on all around me

I wasn’t paying attention to how my tears were falling

Trying to remember a clear star-lit sky

that youthful dream of a world free from evil never came true. the shadow came back, and it kept coming back, taking his people, his friends, his family, his wife. everything they built after the defeat of morgoth has been reduced to dust by the weight of time, and every year more of it slips through his fingers. elrond doesn’t know how much more of it he can endure. he doesn’t know how much more he can lose

he chases that scrap of music all the way to the seashore

I ran down the path between the rocks and the spray following that voice I never knew why I loved

But in the end I could only stand weeping

elrond searches up and down the coast, scouring the shoreline for clues, asking the locals, listening. sometimes he hears whispers of song, long wailing lamentations that make his heart ache all the more now that he understands how that despair feels. occasionally it’s loud or consistent enough he can track it, trying to pinpoint the singer’s location in the intense storms of bitterness and grief

but he never finds anything

“You fool, he’s already gone. Like he was never there at all...”

all that’s left is a voice on the wind

[meetthetank]

Beast Code Chapter 1: The Twilit City

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), Original YoRHa Characters (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Transformation, gothic horror, Android Lycanthropy...sort of, Inspired by Bloodborne (Video Game), Everyday i get closer to just writing a Bloodborne AU

Summary:  Break the vicious cycle with tooth and claw. Unleash the beast within and destroy your chains. But the strength to defy fate comes at a grave cost. Will it be enough, little doll? Or will you succumb to despair once more?

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31546982

The assignment to the Twilight Belt comes as a shock to 2B and 9S. Rarely, if ever, are YorHa units sent to this border of perpetual daylight and eternal night. Conditions are always reported as unstable by the infrequent scans by one of the other satellite bases that orbit earth, too dangerous to deploy scanners by themselves, and too depleted of resources for the Council to care about. The mystery surrounding the strip of permanent twilight goads curious operators and scanners alike to comb through files searching for nuggets of data, image or video files, anything they can get their hands on. All but a few pieces of data reveal tantalizing scraps and clues to the puzzle of the Sunset Belt. Photographs of dead machines with toothy, gaping maws that split their spherical heads in two and minerals warped in peculiar shapes. According to one of the situation reports from a scanner that had been sent there, there was an eerie, foreboding feeling about the place; that strange and frightening sounds would echo across the landscape and that he felt close to a forbidden barrier that separated this world from another. Though the file and its contents are now treated as a human “ghost story”, many androids, including 2B and 9S, believe at least some portion of the tale.

9S relays this story to 2B as they descend to Earth’s surface, his chattering easing some of 2B’s trepidation. The pair had fallen into an easy rhythm over the course of several assignments to Earth, most of which involved retrieving data from lost servers buried in rubble or clearing out an area of machine lifeforms. Despite her outwardly cold demeanor, 9S wormed his way past all of her defenses, forming a strong, solid relationship with the battler android. His voice is a centering point for her and assists in ignoring the gut churning possibilities of what could be waiting for them below.

“...What do you think, 2B?” his voice crackles from the comms system inside her flight unit.

“Hm?” she shifts her head to the side, glancing at his jet black flight unit cruising beside hers.

“What do you think made the target go rogue?”

She bites her lower lip. There are a thousand possible answers as to why a normally punctual, efficient YorHa Battle unit would suddenly stop responding to command and not checking in at required times. Only a few of those options were machine lifeform related complications.

“We’ll find out when we arrive, 9S.” she says curtly, eager to shut down the conversation, “Focus on landing protocol.”

He sighs, a sound of annoyance and frustration, “Yeah, yeah.”

“One affirmation will-”

“Fiiiiiiiine.”

The final phase of their descent is spent in silence. They pass through the Earth’s atmosphere in streaks of fire and light towards the border of day and night, and a continent that humans called Europe. Even as they descend, the outlines of ancient, massive structures come into view. Both androids are used to the thick vegetation eating away at the remains of human structures, but here the trees are gnarled, twisted, and void of leaves or blossoms. Their branches reach to the crimson sky and permanently setting sun like bony hands in prayer or a stag’s antlers. As 2B and 9S set their flight units down a few miles away from the outskirts of a sprawling, ancient city. It amazes 9S, as he exits his own unit, that the buildings are in such good condition considering the millenia that have passed it by. Great spires of countless cathedrals pierce the heavens, casting an ominous, looming shadow over the otherwise barren landscape. A well worn cobblestone road, lined with rusted iron lighting fixtures long since burnt out, leads into the city proper. 

2B and 9S stand at the precipice of this ancient beast of stone and metal in awe of its size, and terrified of what might lurk within. A hoarse bird’s caw, jolts the androids back into awareness, 2B drawing her katana and prepares for battle.

“Heh,” 9S laughs, trying to calm them both down, “Just a raven, 2B.”

“What?”

“A large black bird. Harmless to us.” He doesn’t tell her about the chill he gets down his spine as he watches the corvid gaze down at them with beady black eyes, or how humans saw these birds as ill omens or prophets of death.

They begin the trek into the forgotten city. 2B doesn’t put Virtuous Contract away.

Pod 042 alerts 2B to the presence of an unidentifiable android signal, marking the location on both hers and 9S’ map. Since the area has yet to be properly mapped out by satellite imagery (as inaccurate as that process is) only a vague street layout is available through a very low power scan. They have no way of judging what might block their path to the target beyond featureless grey masses depicting buildings, rubble, large trees, or whatever else may lie in wait. Their target, represented by a small orange dot on the map, appears to be near the city’s main gate and inside one of the larger buildings. 2B refuses to admit it to herself, but she’s relieved to not have to delve too far into this labyrinthine city.

“I’ve never seen the sky this color…” 9S muses as he stares up, transfixed by the blood red sky and orange sun hanging low.

Though hauntingly beautiful, she won’t deny, 2B keeps her gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate ahead of them. The heavens disturb her; they are the color of death. Of war. And the sun is… wrong. 

She snaps at 9S to keep focused as they approach the gate to the city. Though scans indicate there are no machine lifeforms, or any lifeforms beyond their target, she’s learned from countless combat assignments to not rely totally on what the support unit reports. She’s encountered and seen machines that mask themselves from scans or camouflage themselves in the environment, and in a place like this anything could be hiding in the shadows just outside of view. 

The iron gate lies ajar, worn from millennia of neglect. Clouds of rust particles burst from the hinges as 2B shoves it open further, the metal grinding against itself with a horrible grating shriek. The sound makes them both wince, and they slip through the partially opened gate as soon as they can.

Standing inside the city gates, 9S can’t shake the uneasy feeling that claws at the back of his mind. The great ancient human structures loom above them, and though he knows that the buildings themselves aren’t alive, he can’t shake the notion that he’s being watched by them. The windows are dark, but when he passes by the light of the setting sun reflects off of them, giving them the illusion of intelligence. Suddenly, 9S feels as if he’s inside a cave, or locked in a room with no exit. Suddenly… He finds it hard to breathe. 9S tugs at the collar of his jacket as if it's tightening around his throat. His synthetic lungs fill with air as much as he can take, then he releases it moments later. It calms him, if only a little.

2B’s gaze is fixed ahead on the building Pod 042 marked as the rogue android’s hiding place. It’s a much smaller structure than the others that choke the sky, but its reach stretches across the streets like a tree’s roots. Judging by the well preserved signs that hang from crumbled doors it looked to have multiple uses. 9S commands his own Pod to run scans on the words and symbols for later analysis. 

“The target’s in here…” 2B murmurs, holding her free hand up in a tight fist, signaling 9S to stop behind her.

This portion of the sprawling building is similar in structure to the massive spires above. It has the same pointed section on the roof, but much smaller in scale, and similar symbols decorate the exterior. A cross, winged humans, various flowering plants, and a number of human figures bowing their heads or supplicating themselves to the winged humans.

“This must have been a place of worship,” 9S muses aloud.

“Focus.”

He nods. Typically 9S argues with his partner about the necessity for recording data like this, or excuse his wandering attention to his designation as a scanner, but he knows the danger within the house of worship, or rather, he doesn’t know. Neither one of them knows what this rouge android is capable of. 

2B presses her hand against the wooden doors to the chapel and pushes it open as slowly as possible. It groans in protest, dust falls from its hinges and frame, but it swings inward. A rush of warm air washes over them carrying the scent of stale incense and dead machines. Clouds of smoke billow out of the doorway, rising into the red sky like twisted fingers. 2B enters first, sliding in sword arm first. She motions for 9S to wait for a moment, then commands Pod 042 to switch on its flashlight. 

9S peeks his head around the door, keeping a few paces behind his partner. He switches on his own Pod’s flashlight to illuminate more of the pitch black interior. Long wooden benches are pushed up against the walls, opening up the center space. Ornate candle holders, rotting books, charred incense burners, and pieces of artwork among other things 9S has no name for are scattered across the ground, each one a priceless human artifact that could fuel hours of study. Yet it’s not these that hold 9S’ attention, but the statue at the far back of the chapel, and the figure kneeling in front of it.

It looks to be made of some kind of marble, a pristine white stone that has been sheltered from time and the elements. The subject is another winged human, this one wearing splendid armor and wielding a great spear. Beneath them, a grotesque, writhing beast bares its teeth and claws at the warrior as the blade pierces its throat. 9S has never seen anything like it in person, and very few records of these kinds of sculptures remain at all. It’s both horrific and beautiful at once. He wonders what the human who made this saw that inspired it. Did creatures like these roam the world during their time?

2B steps in front of him, Virtuous Contract at the ready. The figure in front of the statue rises to their feet as the Pod’s flashlights center on them. A cloak made of feathers conceals most of their form but they appear to be a female android, perhaps a YorHa model. Though, if that were the case it would have been in the mission briefing. That is, unless... 

The android turns her head to the side, glaring at the pair over her shoulder.

“So, Command sent the wolves, did they?” She asks, a distinct rumble in her voice.

2B raises her blade and keeps her gaze steady. She hears 9S also ready his weapon, the golden katana Cruel Oath. 

Lazily, the android turns her body to face them. Her clothes confirm her origins; there’s no mistaking the sharp white embellishments and black velvet of a YorHa uniform; however each piece is ripped, tattered, and stitched together with other scraps of clothing or… animal hide. 

The rouge android drags the blade of a bloodied top heavy sword between her fingers, cleaning the gore from it. “It doesn’t matter, dog.” Her eyes shine with a strange, purplish light that refracts around her collapsed, twisted pupils. “You will fall like the rest.”

It isn’t until the rogue android rushes forward, sword raised, that 2B sees the corpses of YorHa units piled in front of the statue, and the blood that soaks it.

She dashes backward and shoves the bewildered 9S out of harm's way. The android’s bloodied sword crashes into the stonework floor, sending thousands of years of dust into the air. 2B lunges, her katana poised to take advantage of the enemy’s opening, but she sidesteps much quicker than anticipated. The rogue’s fist slams into 2B’s chest, distorting her internal sensors and throwing her off balance. 2B watches in horror as the rogue drives her sword towards her, but a golden flash knocks the blade away. 

“2B!” 9S shouts, brandishing Cruel Oath. “Are you okay?!”

She shakes her head as if it would clear the internal errors from her vision, but she assumes her battle stance next to her partner. “Fine.”

Both androids launch into an assault on the rogue, attacking in tandem. Despite 2B’s scrambled sensors, she and 9S have an undeniable synergy that comes with countless missions. 2B forces the rogue back with singular, powerful blows, while 9S jabs at any opening he can reach from the sides. However, even with their combined might the rogue deflects and maneuvers out of the way of each attack as casually as one would flick away an insect or step around a puddle. She looks to be expending no effort at all as she dances around the two YorHa. Anger and frustration rises in 2B, culminating in a harsh growl. She mimics the rogue’s tactic from earlier, rushing forward and feinting with a crushing overhead strike that is easily dodged but allows no time for recovery. She slams her fist into the rogue android��s face, sending her stumbling backwards. Before 9S can dive in with a horizontal slash the rogue dashes backward, putting crucial distance between her and her hunters.

The rogue android lowers her gaze at the pair, sizing them up, taking stock of their abilities and assessing their weaknesses. 2B watches her eyes dart back and forth between her and 9S, then linger on 9S. Sensing the rogue’s motive and deciding at that moment that the outcome is unacceptable, 2B dives in front of the strike meant for 9S. The rogue’s sword slices cleanly through her chest, coating the rogue’s clothes in splatters of fresh blood. The battler falls to her knees, clutching the wound with one hand while supporting herself on her sword. 

“No!!” 9S screams and lunges at their target. “2B!!”

“Hm. Interesting.” The rogue murmurs, easily deflecting the scanner’s wild strikes.

2B watches through blurred, error obscured vision as 9S drives the rogue back. If she didn’t know any better it’d seem that he has the upper hand, but the rogue’s eyes glint in a way 2B recognizes all too well. She’s baiting him. 

9S slams his blade against the rogue’s, pressing all of his power and weight into the strike. It’s the moment she had been waiting for. Suddenly she pulls back, letting 9S’ weight fall forward and forcing him off balance. She kicks his legs out from under him then shoves him into the floor. 9S lets out a startled, choked gasp as his weight and the force of the rogue’s attack cracks the stone floor, sending up more clouds of dust into the air. 

Clutching her chest, 2B roars and charges at the target with blinding speed. When she sees the smirk twisting the rogue’s lips and the pointed iron rod in her grip, it’s too late. With a flash of her crowfeather cape, the android meets 2B’s charge with her own, the skewer aimed at her wounded chest. 2B tries to divert her body away, but the momentum is too strong. It’s just enough to roll her body to the side so that the spike pierces clean through her shoulder, clear of critical systems. 

The pain, however, is agonizing. 

It’s different from the injuries 2B has suffered in the past. Countless machine swords, spears, and axes have torn through her body and of course all of those injuries hurt, but they were manageable. When the iron bar rips through layers of cloth, skin, carbon plating and frame, and synthetic muscle fibers it's as if her shoulder has been set on fire. She clenches her teeth, muffling a scream to a low growl. Her hand wraps around the skewer, close to the wound itself. Instinct tells her to tear it out immediately, but she knows that without treatment doing so would only worsen her condition. 2B doesn’t get to make that decision, unfortunately. The rogue grabs hold of the end of the iron rod and twists it side to side, driving it further into 2B’s shoulder. 

2B sinks to her knees and tries to hold back the cries of agony. Her injured arm stops responding to commands and lies limp and useless against her side. She swats at the rogue android with her weakening other arm, desperate to escape from this torment. Her strength fades along with her vision; it becomes impossible to even hold herself upright.

She must not fall, she must not… she must stay strong, she must stay alive.

She will not allow him to die… 

Not for the sake of a monster like her….

9S leaps into the fight as the rogue android prepares a killing blow. A flurry of Pod fire, sword strikes, and furious movement all blur together into a white, gold, and black haze. She fights to stay awake, she fights to stand, but her body begins to shut down non-vital systems and conserve as much energy as she can. First her tactile sensors switch off, leaving her in a numbing cold. Then her hearing, quickly followed by sight. A warning flashes across the last vestiges of her vision that she is entering a forced shutdown state, and despite her audio sensors being deactivated, she swears she hears 9S cry out for her.

….

….

…….

………

……….

……..

….

2B opens her eyes to the blinding, sterile white of hacking space. This itself is not shocking. Oftentimes she would run diagnostics on her critical systems when in a forced shutdown, both to manage critical systems and to keep herself busy. 

But now, in the distance, there is an anomaly.

A single figure, black as night, approaches her. It’s shape is human up till its head, which sports pointed ears and a long snout like that of a dog or wolf. It looms over her and leaves a black, fragmented mist in its wake. But most troubling of all in this world of stark monochrome is its eye…. or what 2B believes is an eye. In the center of its lupine face is a strange geometric sigil that emits a highly saturated purple light. It feels… malicious. The thought itself is insane to 2B. Light cannot possess intent or emotions, and yet… 

“This is an unacceptable outcome.” A voice booms in her head. Somehow she knows it is the entity speaking. 

2B opens her mouth to respond, but instead of words, thick crimson fluid leaks from her throat.

“You will die. He will die. You cannot abide by this.”

She shakes her head. Droplets of blood fall to the pristine floor. The entity is right. If she has any strength left, 9S will live.

“Stand, little doll,” the entity commands, “Stand and unleash y-...Be——…..d.”

The entity’s voice becomes warped and distorted with audio glitches, yet 2B understands its words with frightening clarity.

“Take-......l-...s within.” 

It holds a hand out to her, offering her something she can’t quite make out. The shape in its palm is amorphous, colorless, and flickers with lines of jumbled code. Somehow, she knows this piece of herself in intimate detail, yet cannot remember what this does or what its relation to the entity is. 

But it promises strength enough to save 9S.

2B reaches out and takes the code in her hand… 

….

………….

…………………………

………………………………………………………..

Her eyes snap open. A current of raw energy runs through her body, electrifying every nerve and sensor within her. She shakes with each pulse of her circulatory apparatus as a new, terrifying strength takes hold. 2B rises to her feet, flexing her hands, legs, arms. One arm’s movement is restricted by the iron bar still stuck in her shoulder. She tears it out with little effort, casting it to the floor. The rattling, hollow sound echoes against the stone chapel. 

The rogue’s head snaps up from her combat with 9S, who is barely able to hold his sword. Something in her expression changes. She kicks 9S and points her sword at 2B, her arms shaking in a way they had not before. 

2B lunges forward, her sword raised high. The rogue raises her own sword to deflect, but 2B’s newfound strength breaks her guard with one mighty strike. With blinding speed 2B slices through the rogue android’s body. Her crowfeather cape flutters to the floor, soon followed by her arm. The rouge android staggers back, an expression of shock and horror twisting her face. 2B drives her sword through the rogue’s chest, forcing her back further. Instead of drawing her sword back for another strike, a terrifying feeling takes over 2B. She leaves the sword inside the rogue’s chest and tackles her to the ground. With her bare hands and horrible strength, 2B delivers blow after blow to the android’s chest, shoulder, arms, head, and abdomen. Each piece is reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal one after the next until nothing remains but scrap. 

2B throws her head back as she straddles her victim, a horrible, twisted grin plastered across her face and arms outstretched. Her body feels wrong… horribly wrong, yet for the first time since she can remember, her chest is light. She gazes up at the morbid sculpture with an emotion she can’t quite describe. It isn’t the same as a combat high, she is intimately familiar with that heady rush. This is something akin to… euphoria. A laugh begins to bubble up in her throat-

“2B?”

She’s forced back to reality by the 9S’ voice, right beside her ear. Suddenly, the terrible strength from moments before fades from her body. Her arms go limp by her sides, and it becomes hard to sit upright. Even breathing is laborious. 9S wraps his arms around her shoulders and tugs her gently, laying her head and shoulders against his chest.

“I’ve got you. We… I think we’re safe.” His breathing is uneven and ragged, much like 2B’s. He swivels his head back and forth, searching for any lingering threats as quickly as possible. “Pod, run a scan for machine lifeform or android signals in the immediate area,” he commands.

Pod 153 is silent for a moment, then emits a grating, hideous garbled noise. Words try to break through the audio distortions but neither 2B or 9S is confident it isn’t simply what they wish to hear. 

“Alert:” Pod 042 begins, “Interference from unknown source is preventing accurate scans of the surrounding area. Proposal: Relocate to an elevated aaaaaaa…..a-r-....rrr……”

The same audio distortions come from 042, mingling with 153’s until they both cut off, leaving the androids in silence. “Pod?” 9S calls to the floating support unit. “Pod, respond. ... Pod?”

2B mutters weakly to her own Pod, but it's the same as 9S’. No response at all.

9S pulls up a small data screen, map data, from what 2B can tell. Or… where map data would be. Instead, there’s a blank, grey screen and a little message box that reads No Data. 

“What the-...” 9S whispers, flipping through different screens at a frantic pace. “Where-... There’s… all the data is gone!” he shouts, “No map, no signal scans… I can’t even connect to the Bunker…”

“We’re stranded…” 2B muses aloud.

Silence passes between them. Only the ominous wind passing through ancient wood and stone reminds them that the world hasn’t stopped moving around them. 

“We should move to a higher area, like your Pod said.” 9S suggests, rising to his feet. “Can you stand?”

When 9S offers a hand out to her, 2B takes it without thinking. His touch, even through his thick gloves, calms the beast pacing inside her. 

Beast? 

…..What does that mean?

2B rises to her feet, her hands lingering in 9S’ for a moment longer than she normally would. There’s a fog in her head that distorts her equilibrium. She leans on 9S for support, to which he wraps his arm around her waist and positions himself under her shoulder.

“I got you.” He says with a small smile.

2B feels just a bit lighter.

They exit the chapel and make for higher ground. 9S rationalizes that if they simply continue up stairs or inclines they would find a space clear of whatever is interfering with the Pod’s satellite connections. Perhaps it’s the fog that creeps across the cobblestone streets or the odd angle of the sun (not that it makes sense to 9S or 2B but they have to consider all possibilities), or perhaps it’s something beyond that. There’s a strange, eerie feeling about this city that neither can explain, and neither want to talk about. As if there’s a presence constantly watching over them.

They climb the stairs of one of the massive sprawling religious buildings. From what 9S assesses, it seems to have one of the tallest spires in the city. Only a larger time-keeping building looming in the distance is larger. If he could reach the top he should be far enough above whatever is interfering with the Pods. When he relays his plan to 2B who only nods, her eyes unfocused and breathing shallow, worry starts to lace its icy fingers through his chest. Something is wrong with her. 

9S’ first instinct is to prepare a data backup with the bunker, but the Pods are both out of commission for the time being. His next is to contact command and ask how they should proceed, to the same conclusion. Climbing the spire is the only course of action he can take, but first, he has to make sure 2B is safe.

He leads her through the castle of worship, now supporting most of her weight. That… frightening show of strength must have exhausted her power supply. There are plenty of well preserved wooden benches that stretch across half of the main worship chambers, at least it would be more comfortable than the stone floors. Under watch by the countless grotesque statues that sit in the rafters, 9S helps 2B onto a long bench, laying her on her back. She hisses and grinds her teeth as she moves. She must have sustained internal damage from that fight… 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, “I’m going to go to the roof to get a clear signal.”

All 2B gives in response is a slow nod. He lingers by her side before leaving, a moment longer than needed.

Now alone in this spacious, hollow, human structure, 2B takes stock of her condition. There’s pain in her shoulders, particularly her right arm. Her legs are tight, most locking up from the strain of the previous battle and trekking up to her current location. Her back, as well, is tense beyond discomfort. It spasms and jolts if she breathes too hard. At least these are injury related, explainable. The black wolfman with purple eyes lingering in the corners of her vision, is not. 

She sees the entity in the shadows, lurking just out of view. 9S walks right past it, not even sparing a glance at the tall, gangly creature. It doesn’t respond to 9S either, instead focusing on 2B and only 2B. 

The sight of it makes her stomach turn. She tries to close her eyes, but the glowing, purple sigil is burned into her vision. With a groan she digs her knuckles into her eyelids as if she could carve the hallucination out of the air. Defeated, 2B lets her arms down once more. One hand touches the cool stone floor, decorated with elegant mosaics, and she suddenly realizes how warm she is. According to the warning messages displayed in her vision her body temperature is ten degrees above normal levels. 

“Pod,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up, “retrieve water from storage-”

“Report: Mail notification received from Command.”

The monotone voice of her support unit shocks her. Pod 042 had been silent up until now due to whatever interference was in the area, and now it’s getting messages from Command? 9S must have established a connection from the roof.

Her heart sinks. If that’s the case he would contact her. The first thing she’d hear would be his voice.

She opens the message, dreading its contents.

Subject has accessed confidential records. Eliminate the Target.

At the top of the spire 9S takes in the view of the entire city, the wind rushing through his hair. It’s breathtaking. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. The sky dyes the entire urban sprawl red, as well as the mountains on the horizon. His pulse races as he drinks in the terrifying awe of what the ancient humans were capable of, hoping to remember every last detail of the buildings, the streets, and the magnificent sculptures that litter the city. It’s all so well preserved that he feels as though a human might appear, walking down the cobblestone streets as if nothing were wrong. As if they didn’t go extinct. 

Reluctantly he draws his attention away from the splendor of humanity’s ruins, and shakes away the creeping emptiness that comes with that line of thought. He can’t think about that now. He and 2B are stranded. 9S produces a holographic terminal that mirrors Pod 153’s settings menu. Pod’s diagnostics on his end show buildup of foreign material in and around certain receivers, something that 9S expects, but that is only part of the problem. It seems that the atmosphere in this place is clogged with various chemicals and particles that make satellite transmissions more difficult. Considering all of the decaying metal and stone it’s no wonder that there’s so much particulate in the air. Once Pod’s receivers are clear 9S has Pod 153 hover just above the spire’s tip. It stays suspended in the air, the small light on the top of its body turning on and off at regular intervals.

“Connection established.” Pod 153 announces moments later. “Proposal: Contact the Bunker for support.”

“Great! Set up a relay connection for Pod 042 as well.”

“Affirmative.”

9S opens a data screen laden with information and begins composing his message to Operator 21O. With an unreliable connection a live call would be too risky, a simple text based message won’t be distorted or cut out. He records a brief message, attaches a transcription of his words, and sends it to the Bunker. Hopefully 21O would send something quickly-

A flash of movement in the streets below catches his eye. Something running on all fours... “Pod… run a scan for machine lifeforms…” He says, a chill creeping up his spine.

Pod 153 floats down to his side. “Alert: Multiple machine lifeforms detected. Proposal: Regroup with Unit 2B.”

“But-” 

That thing didn’t look like a machine…

“Alert: Anomalous signal detect-”

Pod 153’s words are drowned by a horrific, mournful howl that reverberates through the entire building. 9S clings to the ornate decorations on the spire and covers his ears with his free hand. His body runs cold. He’s never heard a sound like that before. Nothing the machines make comes close to that. The pain and sorrow in that noise is something that no animal could produce either. That left only one possibility…

Another roar wracks the building from within… 

2B clutches the sides of her head, the data screen long dismissed.

No…

Her chest strains under her panicked breaths. 

No.

She hadn’t been watching him. She hadn’t been keeping track of his questions and behavior…

No… No.

And now she…

No no no no no .

She has to…

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

NO.

She will not do this. Not again. 

Her skin feels… tight. 

She will fight off every single goddamn android Command sends until there are none left but her and him. She will not be a part of this cycle again. Her hands curl into fists as a surge rushes through her body, alighting her nerves with energy. With power.

A shadow moves across the stone floor of the castle of worship. The entity, its form inky black, its sigil emitting a baleful purple light, glides towards her. It bathes her in the highly saturated light, a light not even shielding her eyes can diffuse. It bores into her core, it peers into her mind. It speaks into her mind.

“You will not allow this to happen.” Its voice echoes off the hollow shell of where humans once sought God. “But strength comes at a price, little doll.”

The entity plunges its claws into her chest. Heat explodes throughout her body to the point where she fears she might self-destruct. The boiling tendrils of this ethereal monster sink into her artificial heart and her Black Box. Something activates, or… unlocks, and suddenly she feels… confined. Her body… it’s too small….

“Time to pay the toll…”

It rips its claws, now writhing shadow-like whips, out of her chest, then vanishes. 2B’s vision is obscured, but not by warnings and error messages, by blood. Red veins pulse on the edges of her sight in time with her heart. Each beat sends waves of heat, electricity, and agony through her body.

“Stand, little doll. Stand, and unleash your beasthood.”

A scream forms in 2B’s throat, but it cannot break through her swelling throat and gritted teeth. She takes frantic, shallow breaths. Her limbs shake, her fingernails dig into the stonework floor. It’s so hot… 

2B rolls onto the floor and rips away her tight uniform. Far too tight. Parts of her dress were already beginning to tear as her muscles swell. Blood trickles from various wounds where her skin has split, revealing the thick, synthetic muscle cords that lie beneath. Her blindfold is next, but removing it does not help her vision. One eye is unfocused, blurring all of her vision.

She drags her fingernails across her body and lets out a deep, animal snarl when she tears into her own flesh. Looking down at her hands, she recoils at the sight of long, black claws that split her fingers down the center. Skin falls from them in long strips to the point where the mechanical joints of her hands are exposed.

Something snaps inside her, somewhere in her upper back. She howls in agony, in sorrow, as her spine lengthens, twists, and grows too fast for her body to maintain. Her insides are compacted and grind against each other, sending sickening vibrations throughout her. Her throat finally opens up, allowing her to breathe. She watches as puffs of steam escape her mouth into the warm twilight air. 

Another crack and something explodes out of her lower back. Her balance is thrown off and she falls forward, smashing her face into stone. Another snarl, this one combined with the gnashing of fangs. Her mouth warps, splitting out of her face into a muzzle. Eyes follow, one swelling to fit its now spacious socket while the other stunts and refuses to change. She claws at the peeling skin of whatever she can reach, spilling more of her blood in the process. Everything hurts, everything itches, but oh god the power feels so good.

A growth springs from above her unchanged eye, weighing her head down and hunching her body over. She supports herself with one enormous hand, the other scooping the wires and tubing that spills out of her torn stomach and forcing them back inside her abdominal cavity. The twisting extension of her spine, a tail, thuds against the floor and counters the weight of her head. 

2B shakes the mane of bloodied, white hair from her functioning eye, turns her head to the sky, and roars.

[flightrules]

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 3: It’s (not) fine

This was supposed to be a simple hook-up. Harmless entertainment for a couple of days on board the Razor Crest.

This is complicated.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Read on AO3

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff in later chapters. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.

Hyperspace is boring.

You should have run out to a shop on Tatooine to pick up a datapad or something. A puzzle. Hell, maybe some craft supplies. At least you’d have something to do. 

But then, you think ruefully, you'd been planning on doing him. Who could blame you if you'd been a little distracted.

You've already changed into clean clothes, after a quick few minutes in the cramped space that holds the sonic shower. Those things always leave your hair feeling dry and crackly with static. But, how extravagant to be able to shower at all.

The acid burn on your shoulder is still a little tender. When you touch it, you can feel it starting to scab over and your fingers come away dry, so you don’t bother trying to hunt up another bandage. You can always ask him later if you find you need one.

You check the rest of your clothes to make sure the blood and dirt stains have come out, then fold everything and tuck it all back in your pack. You toss the last few dirty items into the machine and start a new cleaning cycle.

Then you stand there, all by yourself down there in the hold, and spend the next two minutes watching the laundry timer count down. 

This is stupid. There's got to be a better use of your time. You can't go back up to the cockpit, that would defeat the purpose of having left. You'll give him whatever space he needs, for now. 

You’d love a closer look at that armory, but you know better than to mess with the man’s weapons. He did ask you to lock the safety on your rifle--for the sake of the child--but otherwise he’s left it alone. You’ll do him the same courtesy. 

Some of the other cabinets probably hide clothing, maybe other personal stuff. What else would a man like this own? Is there a library of data chips somewhere? Toys for the child?

Pictures of friends? 

There’s an open niche in the wall, on the opposite side from the armory, that you’re pretty sure  is a compact carbon freezing unit. 

Supposedly people aren't conscious inside those copper-colored slabs, but--you imagine being stuck in whatever pose you were in when the carbon jets hit you, for however long someone decided to leave you there. 

It makes you shudder. 

Further back toward the cargo door, duraplast cartons are lined up along the walls, secured with cords and netting. The floor in the middle is empty. 

Well, here’s something you can do. Your muscles are feeling stiff and a little achy, the aftereffects of fighting combined with the three-day trek. There’s enough room back here to do some stretches.  Maybe some bodyweight exercises, too. A couple days of rest wouldn’t do you in, but keeping fit is what keeps you alive. It's a good habit to maintain. 

You start by reaching both arms up above your head, trying to get some movement in your upper back, but your hands are flat on the low ceiling before your arms are even straight. Instead, you move on to a couple stretches with each elbow bent above your head, the other hand pressing down. The healing skin over your shoulder blade pulls a bit, but it doesn’t hurt too much. Probably good to stretch the skin there, too, try to keep the burn from contracting into too tough a scar. 

“Will we bother you if we’re down here?” His voice makes you jump. You didn’t hear him come down the ladder but there he is, the child at his feet. 

His tone is neutral and that shine is gone from his eyes. Whatever was going on earlier, it seems to have passed. You're not sure if asking right now would be welcome. 

The child’s watching you with interest. The pose you were in probably did look funny. But, you remind yourself, it's also perfectly normal. You can't do the work you do--or the work you're pretty sure he does--without maintenance.

"It's your ship," you say. "Will it bother you if I keep going?"

“We can stay busy up front for a while.” 

As you work your way through sit-ups, push-ups, lunges, and squats, you can hear the soft murmur of his voice. It sounds like he might be reading the child a story, but it’s not in a language you recognize. Once you hear, “No, we’re not playing that right now. It’ll be our turn soon.” 

You find yourself wrapping up your routine a little early, interested in what game the child might have in mind. You duck back past that carbon freezing nook and find the man seated at a little fold-down table, the child in his lap. They’re looking at a data pad together. 

“Having lessons?” you ask. 

“Just looking at pictures.”

“What language were you speaking?”

His head turns toward you like he's about to answer but then he pauses, lips parted but face blank. Then he sits up a little straighter, upper body going stiff even as one hand's still holding the datapad for the child. “Mando’a,” he says. “We don’t usually speak it in front of outsiders.” 

“I never heard you, then.”

“No, I’ve already--” he looks down at himself, at the shirt and trousers, so different from the armor. “It’s all right.”

You have a very uncomfortable suspicion that it isn’t. 

You think again of asking but he’s already getting to his feet, child held in one arm, and he’s setting the datapad back behind a cupboard door. 

"Trade places?" he asks. 

So you were right, he's got his own workout to keep up with. "Do you want me to watch the little one?"

"No, thank you," he says. "We have our routine worked out together."

This you've got to see. "Can I keep you company?"

When he doesn’t answer right away, you figure he's going to say no. That's all right, you felt a little awkward at the thought of him and the child watching you, and you're used to having your face and body out in the open. You’ll ask to borrow the datapad or something, keep yourself distracted. And maybe afterward, you'll find out what was going on with him this morning--and get back to what he seemed to want when he asked you to stay. 

The child is smiling up at him and waving little hands your way. 

The man uses his free hand to fold the table up against the wall and stow the chair flat beneath it. A quick tilt of his head looks like, Fine, come along.

So you do.

You perch atop one of the stacks of boxes while he warms up. He’s got some of the same stretches you use, and some you haven’t seen before. The best part though is watching the child. When the man shifts into a lunge, one arm stretched forward and the other behind, he’s got a miniature mirror at his side. The child’s balance is wobbly but his little mouth is set. 

When they switch to pushups, the child climbs up to sit between his shoulder blades and you’re a little worried you’re going to die right there, watching the two of them together. You can usually make it to about 25 reps before your arms give out. He’s somewhere around 40, the child holding on to the neck of his sweatshirt and giggling, before he gives up on the last one and lets his chest hit the floor. The child pats his hair as you hear a mumbled “dank farrik” from down there against the durasteel. 

“You ok?”

He rolls over, moving slowly enough that the child can clamber down from his back. “I must have pulled something in my shoulder. Hasn’t been right since we got back.”

Up until now he’s done every movement perfectly, hitting each pose with more precision than you could manage even on your best day. “It’s been hurting all this time?”

He bends one knee and sits up, leaving the other leg stretched out. “It’ll heal.”

“Can I help?”

He’s giving you a strange look, eyebrows raised. You’re not sure why. “Help how?”

“Maybe I can help you work some of the knots out of the muscles. If you didn’t do real damage, I mean.”

Whatever he was thinking, your answer must have cleared it up, because his face settles into a more neutral expression. “Sure.”

The child has wandered a little bit away in the meantime, and when you look over he’s playing quietly with the netting that holds the crates in place. The openings are just the right size for his hands and feet, and he’s using the net like a ladder to climb about. You’re not so sure about how high up he’s getting. The crates are stacked only a few feet tall, but that’s already two or three times his height.

The man seems fine with it.

He’s not your kid, you remind yourself. “All right. Let’s see what we can do.”

It’s been a long time since you’ve had someone to do stretches with. Same for him, he tells you. Learning to fight meant injuries, and as a teenager he’d learned to take care of others’ hurts as well as his own. That was, he says, a long time ago. 

When you learned to do partner work, it was about making bodies feel good. That was a different time, in a different world. Back when you had a home to go to.

He still remembers the movements, and it comes right back to you, too. Except, it turns out he’s terrible at it. 

“You’ve got to let your arm go,” you tell him for the third time. You’re kneeling beside him and trying to help him roll that shoulder, one hand over the joint and the other supporting his upper arm. At first his muscles were so stiff under your hands that nothing moved at all. Now he’s getting ahead of you, anticipating the movements instead of relaxing into them. 

“This isn’t going to work,” he says. 

“Not if you keep fighting it, it’s not.”

“It’s not going to work.” You’re startled how quickly his tone’s turned angry and how roughly he pulls away. 

“Hey,” you say, dropping your hands. “I’m trying to help.”

“It’s fine.”

Things are clearly not fine. “What’s going on here?”

You’re not at all expecting what he snaps back at you. “I can’t take care of another being.”

Oh now, that is not fair. You're not looking for handouts. He <i>asked</i> you to stay. “Fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can catch up to them. “I take care of myself.”

He looks a little shocked. You’re not sure if it’s because of his own words, or yours.

“We already said no strings. You’re not the only one who means what they say.”

He sighs, and just as fast as it appeared, the anger's gone from his tone. “What we started last night. Don’t people get attached?”

“I wasn’t planning to.” You can hear how cold your own voice still sounds. 

His gaze strays toward the child, who’s now perched halfway up a stack of boxes, hands and feet curled in the netting, big eyes watching the two of you. The wrinkles in the little forehead have deepened. 

You try to soften your tone. A child deserves to hear gentleness. You point between this man and yourself, and it’s a choppier movement than you intend. "What do you think this is?”

He gets to his feet and goes over to pick the child up, carefully separating the little claws from the netting. He rubs the little one’s back briefly before settling him in his arms. He always holds the child facing out, so he can look at the world. You wonder if that’s because he’s not used to holding babies, or if he’s projecting. You doubt he'd ever choose to sit with his back to a door. 

“I don’t know,” he says. 

Your defensiveness drains away as you realize, looking up at him, he really doesn’t. What have I gotten myself into? You know what you want, and it’s standing in front of you wearing way too much clothing. Those curls tumbling, just a little too long, over his forehead are killing you. 

But your brain is finally catching up. The casual tumble you had in mind, the chance to blow off some steam with a friend? That’s not going to happen. Not with this man, not with whatever is happening for him here. 

“I don’t know either,” you admit, surprised to hear yourself say it. 

“I can’t make you any promises,” he says.

“I never expected you to.”

His hands, so carefully holding the child, have blue and purple bruises on the knuckles. Yours look like that too, skin over the knuckles still swollen, bruises tending toward dark purple against your darker skin. 

You’ve seen what his hands can do. There was a moment, back there in the jungle, when the child was already in your arms. The kidnapper you��d snatched him from was lying in the dirt, fingers clawing at metal gauntlets as gloved hands closed around his throat. 

This man standing in front of you now, looking soft and serious and no longer angry: he was kneeling astride the kidnapper’s chest. When the body under him went limp, he shifted his weight, moved one hand to the top of the kidnapper’s head and the other below it to his chin, and gave a single sharp twist. 

If this man ever has to make a choice, you have no illusions about who he will put first. 

He paid you for three days of your time, and that time is long since over. You owe each other nothing. You get to your feet, too, so it feels more like equals. “Can we agree on one thing for now?”

He waits. The child watches you placidly.

“Until we get to Pavotha. And as long as we're safe on this ship," you add, because things can change, and you want him to know that you know. "Until then, can we trust each other?”

You’re expecting him to put a condition on it. As long as you promise to leave when we get there.

He reaches out with the hand that’s not holding the child, and waits for you to grasp it. 

You reach back across the space between you and rest your hand in his. 

By the time he finishes his workout, it’s well into mid-day and the three of you gather at the little fold-out table for a meal. You've each had a quick few minutes with the sonic shower, trading places in the cockpit again so you could each get into fresh clothes. The air smells of ozone as the laundry machine runs another cycle.

There are chairs for the adults. The child sits right on the table, choosing the bits he wants from a ration pack. 

“Have you been to Pavotha before?” you ask. Whatever’s between you still feels fragile. Best stick to neutral topics for now.

“A few times.” He turns to speak to the child. “You can eat those first, but you better finish the rest. You’re not getting mine.” The child burbles indignantly back at him. “Complain all you want,” he says. “I spoil you enough.” It’s the most indulgent-sounding scolding you’ve ever heard. But the child gives a sigh--sounding for all the world like his father--and starts eating the rest of what’s in his tray. 

“Rumor says there are Mandalorians there. I’m hoping they’ll know more than I do, about how to find the child’s people.”

Rumor says? “Can’t you just send them a message?”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“But they’ll help you if you find them?”

“Yes, we--” he stops, and for a fleeting moment his expression is one of unguarded panic. He rests his forehead in one hand for a moment, then swipes his palm down his uncovered face. “Gods, I’m-- I haven’t even thought that far. I’ve been so tired.” 

The child is still munching contentedly on his rations. He stops long enough to offer a piece of flatbread to the man, who regards him seriously. “No, thank you. You’ll be hungry later if you don’t eat that yourself. No,” he goes on, almost to himself. “He’s a foundling. They’ll help.” 

So much for sticking to neutral topics. You’d thought you understood what happened last night, but it’s increasingly clear you have no idea. “What haven’t you told me?”

“What do you know about Mandalorians?”

Not a lot, truly. You know that if you see someone decked out in that armor, it’s wise to get out of the way. You knew when he offered you a job, there was a strong chance he’d be good for the money. You know you don’t see Mandalorians often, but you never thought much about why. 

The child goes on eating, pausing now and then to drink from a little cup that’s just the right size for his hands. As the man keeps talking, though, the child scoots over closer, until he’s nestled up against one forearm. He leans in, chewing on a strip of dried meat while both of you listen. 

Your own food sits forgotten.

He told you already how the tradition of wearing Mandalorian armor goes back hundreds of years. You already know that when he let you help him remove his helmet, his armor, he was choosing to set aside a promise he’d once made. You saw for yourself, last night, how raw he’d been feeling before you even met him, and you saw how quickly, given the chance, that had turned into shuddering tears. 

You hadn’t known, because he hadn’t told you: How his people are scattered. Hunted. That the armor isn’t just a symbol, it’s their survival. That what’s left of Mandalore is a fragile chain, stretched across the galaxy. 

And now one more link is broken. 

This wasn’t your doing. You know that. You don’t need to fix it. 

You can’t fix it. It’s not about you. 

You get up anyway, step around the tiny table to his side. “Are you going to let me hug you?”

He’s still looking straight ahead, at the place where you were sitting. He doesn’t look at you, but he nods. 

It’s completely awkward, you leaning down to get your arms around him, the child now trying to snuggle closer, and him still sitting straight and stiff. Finally you can feel him start to let go. His chest rises and falls with a deep, measured breath. His head and shoulders lean into you, muscles finally going soft. 

A moment later he mumbles something against your shirt. 

“What was that?”

He lifts his head, looks down at the child. “Naptime. I need to go settle him down, or he’s going to be a terror all afternoon.”